The two of them went over a few more specific handover details.
Oguchi Hisao, ever efficient, rose to leave after finishing his report.
"Hand over your current tasks over the next few days," Takuya Nakayama said, stopping him. That witty smile had returned to his face. "Starting next week, you'll move into the Director's office. The view there is much better than here—you can see the entire night skyline of Shinagawa Ward. You can also take a few of my assistants with you—whichever ones you find useful. I need some fresh blood over here anyway."
Oguchi Hisao bowed deeply, his body bent at the waist.
"I will not fail you, sir. You won't be disappointed."
By late April, the bustle of cherry blossom season in Tokyo had faded. The streets were now a deeper shade of green, and the gentle breeze carried the warmth of early summer.
In Minato Ward, at the Nakagawa family's grand estate, a black Toyota Century pulled smoothly to a stop outside the gate.
Takuya Nakayama opened the car door, retrieved the folded stroller from the back seat, and unfolded it with a practiced click.
Eri stepped out of the car, cradling one-year-old Miki in her arms. The little girl was dressed in a pink spring outfit, her head topped with a soft, knitted hat.
Miki had just woken up. She rubbed her eyes, neither crying nor fussing, but simply burying her face in her mother's neck like a docile little kitten.
"Grandpa! Grandma!"
The other car door was flung open, and Kazuki, who had just turned six, shot out like a cannonball.
Though he wasn't wearing his school uniform today, he still had that square black leather backpack strapped firmly to his back, bobbing with every step as he ran.
Nakagawa Jun and Nakagawa Takako had already been waiting at the door.
"Oh, slow down! Don't trip!" Takagawa Takako hurried forward to catch her grandson as he lunged at her, her smile so wide it seemed she couldn't close her mouth.
Nakagawa Jun, usually an imposing figure at the TV station who made his subordinates hold their breath in his presence, was now beaming. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes bunched up as he reached out to affectionately ruffle Kazuki's hair.
"Why are you carrying your backpack on the weekend?" Nakagawa Jun asked, pinching his grandson's cheek.
"I want to show you my new textbooks!" Kazuki puffed out his chest proudly and slapped the hard cover of his backpack with a loud thud. "I'm a first-grader now! Not a little kid in kindergarten!"
Takuya Nakayama pushed the stroller over, a helpless smile on his face.
"Dad, Mom. This little guy insisted on wearing his backpack out the door this morning. He said he had to report his academic progress to you, and we couldn't stop him."
Eri also greeted them with a smile. "Sorry to keep you waiting. The traffic was a bit heavy."
"No rush, no rush. Come on in, it's still a little chilly outside."
Takako Nakagawa took Kazuki's hand and then leaned over to coo at Miki in Eri's arms. Miki blinked her clear, dark eyes and reached out a chubby little hand to gently grab her grandmother's finger, drawing another round of doting coos from Takako.
The lunch was incredibly lavish, featuring all of Takuya and Eri's favorite dishes.
The atmosphere at the dining table was warm and harmonious.
Nakagawa Jun and his wife couldn't stop smiling as they watched their daughter, son-in-law, and two grandchildren. Even Nakagawa Jun, who usually strictly limited his sake, broke his own rule and had two extra glasses.
After lunch, the sunlight was just right.
On the tatami in the living room, Kazuki took the textbooks out of his backpack one by one, arranging them neatly on the low table like a street vendor's display.
"Look, Grandma! This is my language arts textbook, and this is math!" Kazuki pointed to the illustrations in his books, gesturing wildly, his excitement so intense he was practically spraying saliva.
Takako Nakagawa set a plate of sliced fruit on the table and sat down cross-legged, listening with rapt attention.
"Is school fun? Have you made any new friends?"
Kazuki nodded vigorously, like a little chick pecking at grain. "I did! Kenta, the boy sitting next to me, likes Sonic too. But he's terrible at it—he can't beat me at all. I told him I could pass the first level with my eyes closed, but he didn't believe me!"
Takako chuckled and offered him a slice of apple. "Did you listen carefully in class, Kazuki?"
"I did!" Kazuki stuffed the apple into his mouth, chewing loudly. He added through a mouthful of food, "But math is too easy. Addition and subtraction are just like counting health points in a game. Kenta was so slow, so I taught him to count the way Mario collects coins. One coin for plus one, a turtle for minus one. He learned it right away!"
Eri rolled her eyes beside them and shot Takuya an exasperated glare. "Look at him. His head is so full of video game logic, and it's all your fault."
Takuya Nakayama rubbed his nose and grinned sheepishly, thinking to himself, I'll gladly take the fall for this one.
In the inner room nearby, Eri was gently patting Miki's back.
The little girl had just finished her bottle, and her eyelids were already fluttering shut.
Clutched tightly in her hand was a small Sonic plushie—Kazuki had insisted on giving it to her, calling it his "big brother's guardian deity."
Before long, Miki's breathing steadied, and she fell fast asleep.
Eri pulled a thin blanket over her, then tiptoed out of the room.
In the courtyard, several Japanese black pines were trimmed neatly, exuding the quiet elegance of a traditional Japanese garden.
On the wooden veranda, a small tea table was set.
Takuya Nakayama and Jun Nakagawa sat facing each other.
Steam rose from their teacups, filled with premium Shizuoka gyokuro tea, its fragrance filling the air.
Leaving the warm family atmosphere behind, the two men's conversation naturally turned to serious business matters.
"The consumption tax implemented at the beginning of this month is a disaster," Nakagawa Jun said, setting down his teacup. The smile vanished from his face, his brow furrowing into a deep frown as he let out a heavy sigh.
"The scattered feedback we've received from the TV stations so far is starting to paint a clear picture. The trend is obvious: ordinary people are tightening their purse strings, and the retail data is abysmal. Our field reporters in Ginza say the department store managers are absolutely livid." Nakagawa Jun shook his head, lifted his teacup, and then set it down heavily, the bottom clunking against the wooden table.
Takuya Nakayama picked up the teapot and refilled his father-in-law's cup.
He didn't rush to respond. At this moment, Nakagawa Jun needed a listener more than anything else—someone to vent his professional frustrations to.
In April 1997, the Japanese government had issued a very optimistic assessment of the previous year's economic situation. Based on this judgment—or perhaps simply using it as a pretext—they had raised the consumption tax from 3% to 5%, intending to fill the fiscal deficit.
The result was predictable: it plunged the already fragile domestic consumer market into an icy abyss. Ordinary people were now forced to pinch pennies even when buying a head of cabbage.
"Let's not talk about the domestic situation anymore; the more I say, the more frustrated I get." Nakagawa Jun waved his hand dismissively, changing the subject. His gaze sharpened as he looked at Takuya. "You were spot on about the situation in Southeast Asia!"
He took a sip of tea, the tension in his face relaxing slightly, a hint of relief even touching his expression.
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