When the red light came on, Satsuki pushed the clutch all the way to the floor and shifted back into neutral.
The 911 had a very low idle, the engine behind her turning at a leisurely pace, and the tachometer needle gently trembling around nine hundred RPM.
She lifted her left foot slightly, then stepped back down on it.
Ever since coming out of Daikoku PA, she had already suffered twice because of this clutch.
The first time she lifted it too fast, the car lurched forward and stalled; the second time she simply lifted it slowly, and after a long while the car still hadn't budged an inch, prompting the F40 behind her to flash its high beams at her.
Now she finally got the hang of it. The biting point was a notch higher than the F40's, and once it reached that position, the front of the car would gently dip down for a moment.
In the lane on the right, a red shadow stopped right against the stop line.
The roof of the F40 was so low it was almost level with the windows of the taxi beside it. The taxi driver poked his head out the window to look for quite a while before pulling it back in, turning his head to say something to the passenger in the back seat.
By the Hibiya intersection near midnight, there were hardly any cars left. Half the windows of the Imperial Hotel were still lit, and the trees in Hibiya Park opposite merged into a pitch-black mass.
Satsuki felt for the walkie-talkie on the passenger seat.
"Father, is your back okay?"
"My back's alright, it's just..."
Shuichi's voice was muffled by the roar of the F40.
"This car shakes even when it's parked, how do you manage to sit in it ordinarily? Wouldn't your butt go numb?"
"That's because I'm young."
The other end of the walkie-talkie went quiet for a moment, followed by a long sigh from Shuichi.
"Fine, fine, fine, you're young."
The green light came on. Satsuki lifted her left foot, gave it some gas with her right, and the 911 smoothly glided out.
In the rearview mirror, the front of the F40 lurched forward abruptly when starting, paused for half a beat, and then caught up again.
Satsuki stared at the rearview mirror, the corners of her mouth slowly curling up, her thumb already pressing the talk button, but after a moment of thought, she released it.
She'd save that for later.
The two cars passed under the Yurakucho viaduct, and the buildings ahead suddenly lit up. At the Sukiyabashi intersection, the exterior walls of the Sony building were still brightly lit.
After returning to the city center, the two of them had completely lost any intention of rushing on their way.
Ever since coming back from Haneda, they hadn't paid much attention to the direction of the main estate either, just driving straight along the road. They stopped at red lights, casually picked a side at intersections, and drove wherever the road took them.
When they stopped at another intersection once more, Satsuki glanced at a shop still lit along the street and suddenly felt a bit thirsty.
She pressed the talk button.
"Father."
"Hmm?"
"Just driving back to sleep like this is such a waste."
"A waste? Which company have you set your eyes on again?"
"Huh? What are you thinking? I just feel that since it's rare for us to go out like this, I wanted to get a drink."
"Get a drink..."
Shuichi dragged out his voice on the other end, sounding like he had no intention of refusing at all.
"That's perfect, Ginza is just ahead. There's a place on Namiki-dori; the owner and I have known each other for nearly twenty years, and I still have a bottle of good stuff deposited there that I've never had the heart to open—"
"No."
"I haven't finished yet."
"As soon as we walk in, the owner will come out to greet us, saying 'Oh, Mr. Saionji, long time no see,' then clear out the innermost table, call the mama-san over to pour drinks, and say 'Thank you for your continued support' cup after cup."
Satsuki lowered her voice to imitate that tone, and by the end of it, she laughed out loud first.
"How is that any different from eating at home?"
A muffled chuckle also came through the walkie-talkie.
"Put that way, it really doesn't sound very interesting. Then where do you want to go?"
"To a place neither of us has been to before. Where nobody knows us, and we walk in just like ordinary customers."
"In Ginza? That's a bit difficult. Can there still be a shop in Ginza that doesn't know us?"
"There is. Takahashi from the research association mentioned it to me last time; a small bar recently opened in 8-chome, hidden upstairs. He said the owner's mixology skills are incredible, but his temper is a bit stubborn."
"Which building?"
"...I didn't ask at the time."
"Then we'll just look for it slowly."
Shuichi agreed readily, sounding even more enthusiastic than she was.
The two cars parked at a parking lot in 8-chome near Shimbashi.
Those black sedans in the back didn't follow them in, stopping outside the intersection. Two plainclothes men got out of one of them, each lighting a cigarette, and strolled slowly this way from half a street away.
Satsuki scrambled out of the 911, closed the car door, and turned back to look at the F40.
Shuichi braced himself against the car door frame to push himself out, paused halfway up, and then slowly stood straight, pressing his hand against his lower back with his other hand.
"Are you really okay?"
Satsuki looked at Shuichi with some concern.
Could she have really messed up Father's old back?
"It's fine, it's fine."
Shuichi waved his hand at her and thumped his lower back twice more.
"It's just that the seats in your car are so hard it's practically like driving while sitting on a tatami mat. Let's go, go find the shop."
Satsuki blinked and withdrew her gaze.
Perhaps she could add a soft cushion or something to the seats in the future...
The two of them walked north along Konparu-dori.
The multi-tenant buildings in this area stood side by side, with a directory board erected at the entrance of each building, filled with shop names from the first floor to the eighth floor, mostly high-end clubs and pubs. A few name slots were sealed with tape, leaving a yellowish ring on the vacant spaces.
Satsuki looked at them one by one. Shuichi also looked alongside her, and after checking two buildings, he pointed at one of the boards and turned back to ask her, "Is this it?", earning a glare from her—that was a karaoke place, and a sub-brand of their own at that.
When they saw the third building, Satsuki stopped in her tracks.
Tucked into the top few slots of the directory board was a small wooden sign with five hiragana characters written in brushwork.
Miotsukushi.
"This one! This is the name Takahashi mentioned."
"The fifth floor, huh."
Shuichi looked up and took a glance. The blinds on the fifth floor window were drawn, and a warm yellow light leaked through the gaps.
The elevator was very narrow, and after the two of them stepped in, it was almost full.
The guards who followed them into the building didn't squeeze inside, standing firm at the first-floor elevator entrance with their backs to them, staring at the street outside; another team turned and ran toward the stairs—they had to run to the fifth floor before the two of them arrived via the elevator.
Only a single lamp was on in the fifth-floor corridor. At the end was a wooden door, beside which hung a wooden sign identical to the one downstairs, with two Chinese characters added in small script next to it.
Miotsukushi.
Shuichi stood before the door for a moment.
"It's a shop from Osaka."
"Eh?"
"Miotsukushi is the municipal emblem of Osaka. Back when I dealt with the Osaka City Hall, the envelopes they sent over were all printed with this. I saw it so much I remembered it."
"Father even remembers things like this?"
"Your father has a great memory."
Shuichi said, reaching out to push open the door.
The inside of the shop was much warmer than the corridor.
A bar counter made from a single piece of light-colored wood extended from the doorway all the way to the back, with nine high chairs placed in front of it.
Behind the bar was a full wall of wine racks, with bottles arranged by color from light to dark, the labels of every single bottle facing the same direction. The lights only illuminated the bar counter, leaving the faces of the seated people in the shadows instead.
In the innermost seat sat a middle-aged man drinking alone, with a glass of whisky-and-water placed before him, not looking toward the door.
Behind the bar stood a man in his early thirties with the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to his forearms, wiping a goblet with a white cloth. He raised his eyes to look at the two of them and nodded.
"Welcome, please sit wherever you like."
Shuichi picked two seats near the middle. Satsuki climbed onto a high stool, rested both hands on the edge of the bar, and first scanned the entire wine rack from left to right.
"What would you two like to drink?"
Shuichi didn't even think about it.
"Whisky, with a single piece of ice. I'll leave the brand up to you."
The owner turned around, took a bottle from the wine rack, poured it into a heavy-bottomed glass, dropped in a round-shaved piece of ice, and pushed it in front of Shuichi.
Shuichi picked it up, sniffed it, and glanced at the label on the bottle.
Yamazaki.
He smiled and raised his glass slightly toward the owner.
The owner turned to Satsuki.
"And this customer?"
"Um... I'll have—"
"Pardon me, how old is the customer this year?"
Satsuki blinked.
"...Eighteen."
"Then I am very sorry. As for alcohol, I cannot mix any for you."
Finished speaking, the owner's cloth made another circle around the rim of the glass, his tone flat.
Satsuki was stunned.
She subconsciously turned her head to look at Shuichi.
Shuichi was holding that glass of Yamazaki; before the rim of the glass even touched his lips, his shoulders were already trembling first.
"Father!"
"Cough... It's nothing, nothing."
Shuichi set the glass down and pressed his knuckles against his nose, but that trace of a smile couldn't be suppressed no matter what.
"The owner did the right thing. Anyone under twenty isn't allowed to drink in the first place."
"Just a moment ago in the parking garage you said we were out to play tonight!"
"Playing is playing, rules are rules."
Though he said that, when he turned to look at the owner, his tone softened.
"Then, could you please make her something delicious? This child has been driving all night tonight and is quite tired."
"Yes, please rest assured, Miss. I presume I will not let you down."
Satsuki lifted her chin and placed both hands on the bar counter.
"Owner, then make me a glass of whatever you think tastes best, non-alcoholic."
"If it doesn't taste good, when I go back I'll tell others that this shop isn't as good as its reputation."
Hearing this, Shuichi raised an eyebrow. If this girl really went around telling others that this shop was no good, it would probably go out of business in less than a week, right?
"Please wait a moment."
Yet the owner didn't even twitch an eyebrow, treating it as a young girl's caprice, and bent down to take a pear from the freezer under the bar.
The pear was large, its light brown skin covered in tiny speckles.
He peeled it with a small knife, cut it into several pieces, and pressed them twice in a manual juicer, the pear juice flowing through the strainer into a measuring cup.
Satsuki propped her chin on her hand as she watched him peel, her brow slightly furrowing.
That fellow Takahashi only said the owner had a stubborn temper, but he didn't say he was stubborn in this way.
Another suppressed chuckle came from beside her.
"Father, if you laugh again, you can drive the F40 back yourself."
"I'm the one driving it in the first place."
"...Then don't come crying to me when your back hurts."
The owner took down a small glass bottle from the shelf behind him, filled with a pale yellow liquid, with a handwritten label attached to the bottle.
Pear juice, lemon juice, and the syrup from the small bottle were measured out one by one, poured into a shaker, and filled with ice cubes.
He gripped the shaker with both hands and shook it a dozen times, his movements as steady as when he poured the drink for Shuichi just now, not perfunctory at all just because this was something for a young girl to drink.
Pouring it into the glass, topping it with a little club soda, and finally resting a translucent slice of pear on the rim of the glass.
"Niitaka pear, with a bit of homemade ginger syrup. Please enjoy."
Satsuki picked it up, with a somewhat picky demeanor, and took a sip.
The sweetness of the pear came first, followed by the slight spiciness of the ginger, slowly crawling up from the base of her tongue, the bubbles breaking one by one in her mouth.
Finally, a tiny hint of very faint bitterness remained, pressing on her tongue, washing away the preceding sweetness completely clean.
She put the glass back on the coaster and lowered her head to stare at it for a moment.
Then she picked it up again and took another sip.
Shuichi leaned sideways against the bar counter, watching her drink just like that, his eyes narrowing as he watched.
"How is it? Are you going to go file a complaint?"
"...It's alright."
"Alright, huh."
Shuichi nodded and turned to the owner.
"Then after she finishes drinking, get her another glass."
"Father!"
Satsuki cradled the glass in her hands, took another large gulp, and then set the glass down, flicking the pear slice on the rim with her fingertips.
"Owner, besides ginger, what else did you put in here? That little bit of bitterness at the end."
"Yuzu peel."
"Yuzu peel... Then what about that small bottle you took from behind just now? The one with the handwritten label."
"Syrup."
"What kind of syrup?"
"Homemade."
"...Are you trying not to tell me?"
The owner's hand wiping the glass paused, and he raised his eyes to look at her.
"When the customer said she was eighteen just now, she also seemed rather unwilling."
Shuichi almost choked on a mouthful of alcohol, quickly turning his face toward the wine rack, holding the glass to his mouth while his shoulders shook.
Satsuki glared at the back of his head, then turned back.
"So petty, no wonder the shop is opened on the fifth floor, and there isn't even a decent sign downstairs."
"Being on the fifth floor is because the rent on the first floor really is—"
The owner stopped halfway through. The trailing sound of those last few words turned upward slightly, differing somewhat from the rigidly proper polite speech he used earlier.
Satsuki blinked and turned back to look at Shuichi.
Shuichi had already put down his glass and smiled, lifting his chin toward the entrance.
"That sign at the door, it's Miotsukushi, right? Is the owner from Osaka?"
"...Can you tell?"
"The accent is hidden very well, only that very last bit gave it away. Where in Osaka did you work?"
The owner fell silent for a moment and picked up the next glass.
"Kitashinchi."
"Which place in Kitashinchi?"
The owner named a shop. Shuichi let out an "ah" and tapped his fingers on the bar counter twice.
"I've been to that place, several years ago. The stairs were so narrow you had to turn sideways to go up, and it was so crowded inside there wasn't even room to stand."
"The person accompanying me at the time told me that shop had a young bartender whom customers would specifically request when ordering, willing to wait half an hour in line."
The cloth in the owner's hand stopped.
"...Did that customer not mention what that bartender looked like?"
Shuichi looked at him for two seconds, his eyebrows lifting bit by bit.
"So it was you."
"I worked there for eight years."
"And what about now? Is that shop still open?"
Satsuki chimed in, and as soon as the words left her mouth, she noticed the owner looking at her with a somewhat helpless gaze.
"Customer, at the end of last year in Kitashinchi, does one even need to ask why a shop closed down?"
Satsuki opened her mouth.
"Half of the shop's regular customers were in securities, and the other half were in real estate."
"Once stock prices dropped, the securities people stopped coming first, and a few months later, the real estate people stopped coming too. The owner held out until the end of the year and transferred the shop."
"So you came to Ginza?"
"Yeah."
"Did you want to come before?"
"In this line of work in Osaka, who wouldn't want to come to Ginza?"
The owner finally smiled, raising his hand to point at the ceiling.
"It's just that the rent around here in the past couldn't be paid off even if you worked a lifetime. But this spring, someone told me that the previous place on the fifth floor of this building had gone under and sat empty for several months, and the landlord lowered the price by a huge margin. I took the money I'd saved up over the years, came up to take a look, and signed that very day."
Shuichi picked up his glass and raised it toward him.
"Then this glass is to toast to your wish coming true."
"Thank you."
The owner smiled and bowed slightly, adding a piece of ice to Shuichi's glass.
Satsuki sighed softly, her eyebrows drooping slightly.
"Eh... That must have been really hard for you."
She lowered her head, looking at the slice of pear on the rim of the glass.
A shop that had lines stretching to the stairwell every night managed to hold on until the end of last year before closing.
Kitashinchi was like this; the securities firms in Kitahama and the old textile trading companies in Senba were probably no better off right now.
She had previously allied with the cabinet to force a large number of small and medium-sized enterprises into desperation just for the sake of mergers, but it seemed she had only swallowed some valuable ones in Kanto, and hadn't really looked into Kansai yet...
Another day, she should send people to take a trip around Osaka.