"Speaking of which, Satsuki."
Shuichi tapped his fingers twice on the cloth-bound cover of the booklet.
"Hmm?"
Satsuki still had food in her mouth and responded vaguely.
"That new garage you specifically had built next to the residence a while ago seemed to be fully parked up a couple of days ago, right?"
Satsuki stopped her chopsticks.
"...So fast?"
Shuichi looked at her with some helplessness.
"How many cars did you buy yourself? Don't you have any idea?"
Satsuki opened her mouth.
Then closed it again.
She really hadn't counted.
Was it packed full already?
Shuichi turned to Fujita, who was preparing to take the tea tray and back out.
"Fujita, what is the current situation with the new garage?"
Fujita put down the tea tray and sat back up properly in a kneeling posture.
"Reporting to the Master, the first floor of the new garage has a total of sixteen parking spaces, all of which were completely filled the day before yesterday. The second floor is still undergoing interior decoration, and construction says it can be delivered before the end of the month."
"Sixteen."
Shuichi repeated the number and looked at his daughter again.
Satsuki had already put down her bowl and started counting on her fingers.
"That row at Cornes the other day was eight cars."
"Plus the F40 sent by Uncle Tsutsumi, that's nine."
Counting to this point, her fingers paused.
Things after that became a bit blurry.
In the days after buying the cars, Cornes and a few other imported car dealerships heard the news and took turns sending catalogs to the main residence.
She was preparing to go to New York at that time. Every night when she got tired of reading documents, she would casually flip through a few pages and check off the ones she liked.
How many did she check off?
Satsuki turned her head back.
"Chizuru."
"Lamborghini's Diablo, Porsche's 959, Honda's NSX, Nissan's GT-R."
Chizuru paused for a moment.
"And Mazda's Eunos Roadster."
Shuichi's eyebrows twitched.
"Roadster?"
"What's wrong with it?"
Satsuki said righteously.
"That one is very cute."
"In the middle of a bunch of Ferraris and Lamborghinis, you bought a two-million-yen little convertible."
"Cuteness has nothing to do with price."
Satsuki counted her fingers over again.
"Nine, plus five more, fourteen."
She raised her head.
"Fourteen. Aren't there still two spaces left? How is it fully parked?"
Fujita bowed slightly.
"Reporting to the Eldest Miss, the other two spaces are parked with the Master's cars."
The Japanese-style room went quiet for a moment.
Satsuki slowly turned her head over.
Shuichi picked up his teacup and took a sip.
"Father?"
"...The old garage has high humidity."
Shuichi put down the teacup, his expression as usual.
"The new garage has constant temperature and dehumidification, so I had them move that 911 and that old Mercedes over. Leaving them there is better for the cars."
"So it's full because of you."
"Those fourteen were also bought by you."
Satsuki wouldn't take the bait. She leaned forward, staring intently at her father with bright eyes.
"When did you have them moved over?"
"Last week."
"When was the first floor of the new garage completed?"
"...Last week."
"Moved on the same day?"
Shuichi did not answer.
He cleared his throat and pulled the topic back.
"Let's talk about your matter first. Out of the fourteen cars, how many have you driven since buying them back?"
"I've driven the F40."
"And what else?"
"And..."
Satsuki thought for a moment, her voice lowering a bit.
"When those later cars were delivered, I was already in New York."
"That means you haven't driven a single one."
Shuichi sighed, though there was no blaming tone to be heard in his voice.
"The 348's clutch is so heavy. With your height, if you really drove it onto the Shuto Expressway and got stuck in traffic for half an hour, your left leg would cramp up."
Satsuki was originally prepared to retort about her height, but when the words reached her lips, she suddenly got stuck.
"...How do you know the 348's clutch is heavy?"
Shuichi's hand holding the teacup paused.
"New cars need to be broken in."
He brought the cup to his mouth.
"It's the same whether the vehicle management personnel drive it or I drive it."
"How many did you drive?"
"Not many."
"How many?"
"...NSX, 348, and that GT-R."
Satsuki sat up straight all at once.
"I didn't even get to touch a Mustang in California, yet all my cars were driven by Father first?"
"It's breaking them in."
Shuichi corrected her earnestly.
"Does breaking them in require you to do it yourself?"
Shuichi put down the teacup and simply stopped defending himself.
"Hmm, the NSX is very nice."
He looked at his daughter, his tone turning serious.
"It's the most worry-free to drive. Good visibility, light steering, and driving it in the city all day isn't tiring. Honda really put in the effort this time."
"Right?!"
Satsuki was instantly hooked, unable to care about her previous dissatisfaction of being beaten to it.
"That's exactly what I liked about it. Sitting in other supercars requires fighting with the car; only this one makes you forget you're driving a supercar while driving it."
"It's just too worry-free."
Shuichi changed the subject's tone.
"There's not much fun in driving it."
"Huh?"
"The car is too obedient. It gives you however much you step on, and calculates everything for you. In the end, driving it is about the same as driving a slightly nicer sedan."
"Then what does Father think is fun?"
"That 911 of mine."
Satsuki immediately wore an expression of 'I knew you were going to say that.'
"That car is even older than me."
"The body is light, the steering has no power assist, and whatever is on the road surface is transmitted to the steering wheel."
Shuichi's hands rested on his knees, his fingers instinctively twitching to make a steering-wheel-gripping motion.
"In '73, that car I picked up in Stuttgart."
He paused and laughed first.
"At that time, the family thought I was inspecting factories in Germany, but actually, every day after my inspections, I would run over to Zuffenhausen."
"On the day of car pickup, the salesperson put the keys in my hand, and without even returning to the hotel, I went straight onto the highway."
"Germany's highways have no speed limit, you know that right?"
"Driving all the way to Munich, I remember hardly pressing the brakes at all. When I arrived and got out of the car, my legs were still weak."
Saying this, he paused, and then leisurely added another sentence.
"Later... I also took a trip to the Nürburgring."
Satsuki widened her eyes.
"The Nordschleife? You've driven the Nordschleife?"
"Back then, you could pay a few marks and go up for a lap."
Shuichi's tone was calm, but the corners of his mouth couldn't help curving upward.
"I was overtaken by a local inside. They were driving a Volkswagen van, with two cases of beer piled in the back seat."
Satsuki had just picked up her teacup, and upon hearing 'two cases of beer,' her hand trembled, and the tea almost sloshed out of the rim of the cup.
She hurriedly put the cup back on the table, supporting the edge of the table with one hand and covering her mouth with the other, laughing so hard her shoulders shook and she couldn't straighten her back for a long time.
In her impression, her father was forever in a kimono or a well-tailored suit, holding a wine glass at cocktail parties, able to chat warmly with anyone in just two or three sentences. She had never seen him in a flustered state.
She could never have imagined that this person, in his youth, would be overtaken at the Nordschleife by a Volkswagen van carrying beer.
"But that's a '73 car."
She finally managed to stop laughing, and lifted her chin defiantly.
"It's one thing for it to be fun to drive, but comfort is another matter. When you drive the 911 for an hour, isn't your lower back sore?"
"At least it's more comfortable than that F40 of yours."
"The F40 was never meant to be comfortable!"
"That car doesn't even have carpets laid out, and you have to pull a rope to open the door (that's right, the inside of this car's door has no handle)."
Shuichi shook his head.
"The engine is roaring right behind your head. After I drove it for twenty minutes, my ears were still buzzing when I came out."
"You even drove the F40?!"
"...Breaking it in."
"What is there to break in for an F40!"
"New cars all need to be broken in."
"Then Father, tell me, which one is actually the most comfortable to drive?"
"For long distances, the 911."
"Even the seats of the 911 are hard!"
"Only hard seats can support the lower back. Your NSX seats are soft, and after driving for two hours, they sink down."
"No they don't!"
"You haven't even driven it."
"..."
Satsuki was choked up all at once.
She really hadn't driven it.
A full fourteen cars were parked less than three hundred meters from her bedroom, and she hadn't even touched the steering wheel of a single one.
As for the person opposite her, in one week he drove her cars one by one, and now he was sitting here telling her which seats would sink down.
Satsuki puffed out her cheeks and glared at him.
Shuichi also looked at her.
Chizuru still sat kneeling with her head down. Fujita's movements in packing up the tea tray became very, very slow.
After a while, it was still Shuichi who guiltily averted his gaze first.
He cleared his throat.
"...Fine, this matter is my fault."
"Your own cars, you haven't even driven a single one yet, but you let me try them all out one by one instead. If it were me, I'd be angry too."
Satsuki snorted, her face still puffed up, and turned her head away.
Shuichi glanced outside the paper sliding door.
In the small courtyard outside the side room, the stone lanterns had already been lit. The October night breeze blew in from under the eaves, already carrying a bit of chill.
His fingers tapped twice on his knees.
"How about..."
"Going out for a spin?"
Satsuki still kept her head turned, but the corner of her eye couldn't help glancing over here.
"...Now?"
"Now."
"Hmph."
Satsuki turned her face back a little bit and deliberately kept a straight face.
"You want to dismiss me with just this as an apology?"
"Then forget it?"
Shuichi made a motion to pick up the teacup.
"Who said forget it!"
Satsuki pushed herself up from the low table all at once.
"Let's go!"
East of the main residence, the S.A. Security Department duty room.
The clock on the wall pointed to 8:40.
Dojima Gen sat behind the desk, with today's security daily report spread out in front of him.
The fourth day of the Eldest Miss returning to the country, everything as usual.
The handover signatures for the three guard posts on the outer perimeter of the main residence, the route plans for next week's two outings, and the inspection records sent from the Saionji Tower in Odaiba.
Every single one had to be personally reviewed by him, signing his name in the lower right corner.
Various equipment at Saionji Tower has entered the testing phase, and will be officially put into use next year.
Recently, he had been running to Odaiba every few days, checking all the way from the entrance and exit of the underground parking lot to the rooftop helipad. Where surveillance had blind spots, which door's access control reacted half a second too slow—every single one had to be noted down and fixed.
In the record sent today, five of the seven loopholes marked last week had already been fixed.
This was something he had to do every day after dinner.
Today's daily report was viewed by him with exceptional comfort.
The Eldest Miss returned early today, with no unplanned stops along the way. The Master also stayed in the main residence all day.
Dinner was set in the side room, and both of them were there. He arranged people at the doorway, people in the courtyard, people outside the wall, and all the residential houses in the circle outside the wall also had people.
Dojima Gen finished signing the second page, unusually loosening his tie by half a notch, picked up the cup of cold tea beside his hand, and took a sip.
Very good.
Tonight would be a quiet night.
He put down the teacup, turned to the third page, and just as his pen tip landed on the paper, it stopped again.
For some reason, the back of his neck felt a bit chilly.
Dojima Gen raised his head and glanced outside the window. The lights in the courtyard were all on, everything at the guard post was as usual, and even the wind was not big.
He frowned, suppressed this inexplicable feeling, and lowered his head again to look at the report.
Having only read two lines, the internal phone on the desk rang.
Dojima Gen did not look up, picking up the receiver with his left hand.
"I am Dojima."
"Director Dojima, the Master and the Eldest Miss are getting ready to go out."
The pen tip did not stop on the paper, finishing the last word.
"Hmm, arrange vehicles."
"No... the two adults are preparing to drive themselves."
The pen stopped instantly.
"Drive themselves?"
"Yes."
Dojima Gen switched the receiver to his right hand, pressing his left hand on the daily report in front of him.
"Where to?"
"Shuto Expressway."
"..."
The person on the other end of the receiver seemed not to know how to continue, pausing for several seconds before hesitatingly adding a sentence.
"Also, the Eldest Miss said she wants to drive to her heart's content tonight."
Dojima Gen slowly put down the pen in his hand.
"Which route?"
"The Eldest Miss said... not decided yet, depends on her mood."
"Which car?"
"The Master seems to be driving that 911. As for the Eldest Miss, she's still picking in the garage."
Dojima Gen didn't ask further.
He hung up the phone and stood up.
The other three people in the duty room had originally been buried in documents and monitoring screens, but upon hearing the sound of a chair pushed backward, they all raised their heads simultaneously.
Dojima Gen had already grabbed the walkie-talkie on the charging dock at the corner of the desk.
"Attention everyone!"
"Stay alert!"
"This is not a drill! The situation is extremely serious!"
He paused for half a second, his voice as heavy as if he were reading a combat order.
"The Eldest Miss and the Master are going street racing!"
The entire duty room went quiet for an instant.
Then everyone stood up.
On the other end of the walkie-talkie, responses from various posts poured in one after another.
Dojima Gen walked toward the door while snatching his suit jacket off the coat rack.
"Vehicle team, four escort cars, two in front and two in the back, arrive at the entrance of the new garage within five minutes."
"Medical team, bring a first aid kit, follow with one car, and travel at the back."
"Communications team, equip the Master's and the Eldest Miss's cars with a walkie-talkie each. If they don't fit, strap them onto the passenger seat."
"In addition, dispatch an advance car to get on the Shuto Expressway first, and report road conditions every ten minutes."
The walkie-talkie went quiet for a moment, followed by the somewhat hesitant voice of the vehicle team leader.
"Director... the Century and the President cannot keep up with the F40."
Dojima Gen's steps paused.
"Then go to the vehicle management room and transfer the fast cars out."
"Director, the fast cars in the vehicle management room..."
The other person's voice grew even smaller.
"Are all the Eldest Miss's."
Dojima Gen stood in the corridor and closed his eyes for a moment.
"...Then drive out those two modified Mercedes-Benz cars."
"Yes!"
He put on his jacket and pressed the talk button again.
"Call Fujita Tsuyoshi back."
"Director, Fujita is on rotation rest tonight—"
"Call him back."
"Yes!"
"Also, give a call to Yokoyama from the expressway squad. Tell him that if there are any accidents on the Shuto Expressway tonight, no matter big or small, notify me at the first instance."
"Director, should I tell him the reason?"
Dojima Gen was silent for two seconds.
"No need."
He pulled open the door at the end of the corridor.
The wind outside poured in all at once.
In several affiliated buildings on the east side of the main residence, lights lit up one after another.
The rolling shutter of the vehicle management room rattled upwards, several black sedans had already started, and the low engine sounds rose and fell in the courtyard.
In the distance, in the direction of the new garage, a car lit up its headlights first.
Dojima Gen looked at those two beams of light and said the last sentence into the walkie-talkie.
"Prepare a car for me."
"I will follow personally."