December 25, 1988.
Christmas Morning.
The heavy snow from last night had stopped. Pine trees in the garden wore thick white coats, and sunlight reflecting off the snow cast a dazzling glare.
Bunkyo Ward, Saionji Main Family Residence, Sunroom.
The air carried the aroma of black tea and Darjeeling.
Shuichi sat in a rattan chair with that morning's newspaper spread across his lap. The front-page headline featured a black-and-white photograph: Prime Minister Takeshita Noboru's deeply bowed back after the consumption tax bill passed in the Japanese Parliament.
The headline was printed in bold, black characters: 'Decision and Conclusion.'
"He was a remarkable man," Shuichi said as he took off his glasses and wiped them with a soft cloth. His tone held a trace of lingering emotion. "He knew it was a pit of fire, yet he jumped in anyway. For the sake of this country's finances, he offered himself as fuel."
Satsuki sat across from him, slicing a piece of freshly toasted bread.
The knife glided across the crispy crust, making a faint, rustling sound.
"He was indeed," Satsuki said, pausing as her gaze fell on the newspaper photograph. "In this den of calculation that is Nagatacho, someone who sacrifices himself for the 'public good' may look foolish in my eyes, but he still deserves everyone's respect."
She placed a small piece of toast into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully.
"Mr. Takeshita has completed his historical mission. He forcefully shoved the toughest bone to chew — the consumption tax — down Japan's throat."
Satsuki set down her knife and fork and dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin.
The respect she had shown the politician moments ago was now carefully folded and tucked away into a corner of her heart.
"Since our predecessor has paved the way, the best tribute we can offer as successors is not to waste this foundation," she said, looking up at Shuichi.
Shuichi paused for a moment, then put his glasses back on. "Satsuki, what do you mean?"
"Father, for politicians, the consumption tax is a responsibility. But for us, it's an opportunity," Satsuki replied.
"An opportunity?" Shuichi repeated, turning the words over in his mind.
Satsuki stood and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window.
Outside, several sparrows were scrambling for scattered breadcrumbs in the snow.
"There are three months until the official implementation on April 1st of next year," she said. "During these ninety days, the same thought will echo in every Japanese person's mind: 'Prices are going to rise. The money in my hands is going to be worth less.'"
Satsuki turned around. With her back to the blinding sunlight, her entire figure was outlined in gold.
"This 3% tax rate will create a massive psychological disparity for the Japanese, who have long enjoyed no direct taxes. That 3% price increase will be magnified psychologically to an extreme, generating a collective anxiety of 'if I don't buy now, I'm losing money.'"
"When anxiety reaches a certain level, and we add some guidance, panic is inevitable."
"And panic is the best salesperson. People will frantically buy things they don't even need, just to save a few hundred yen in tax."
She glanced at the wall clock.
Eight in the morning.
"Notify President Yanai, Managing Director Endo, and Itakura. I want to see them at headquarters in half an hour," Satsuki said. "We're going to help the people of Tokyo spend the money in their pockets on the cutting edge this winter."
Nine in the morning.
Marunouchi, Saionji Industries Headquarters, First Conference Room.
Seated around the long conference table were the three core generals of the Saionji Group at this stage.
Tadashi Yanai wore his signature gray suit, with a thick stack of inventory reports in front of him. His eyes were bloodshot from a poor night's sleep, but his spirit was unusually exhilarated.
Managing Director Endo sat upright, the gold-rimmed glasses on his nose reflecting a cold light. Given that the young lady had summoned them right after the consumption tax bill was forced through last night, he sensed a major move coming. He was already thinking about how to support her plan.
Sitting at the end, Itakura lacked the sharp aura of the other two, but he sat ramrod straight. A business proposal for the entertainment industry lay neatly before him, and his expression was calm. The timidity of the small Akihabara shop owner from years past had vanished.
The large door swung open.
Satsuki walked in. She had changed into a smart black wool suit, with a simple pearl brooch pinned to her chest.
Shuichi followed behind her and took his seat at the head of the table. But everyone knew who the main character was today.
"Good morning, President," the three men said in unison as they rose.
"Merry Christmas, everyone," Satsuki said, raising a hand and gesturing for them to sit as she walked to the whiteboard and picked up a red marker. "However, I imagine none of you are in the mood for celebrating."
She wrote a red number on the whiteboard: 3%.
"Gentlemen, I trust you're aware of what happened last night, so I won't dwell on it. In business terms, we can view this 3% tax as the switch for loss aversion," Satsuki said.
She tapped the number sharply with the marker tip, producing a crisp tap.
"Human consumption psychology is fascinating. People might be indifferent to our usual 10% discounts, but they absolutely cannot tolerate the government taking 3% from their wallets for no reason. From today until April 1st, in the consumer's subconscious, cash is depreciating and goods are appreciating."
Satsuki turned, her gaze sweeping over the three men present.
"These three months are a window for inventory clearance, gifted to us for free by the government."
"We will utilize this 'fear of missing out' panic psychology to conduct a thorough front-loading of demand. We will forcibly compress the consumption power originally meant for next spring and summer and release it now."
"What I want you to do isn't simple promotion. It's a purge. We will turn those backlogged old goods in the warehouse into the most liquid cash."
"Remember, for the retail industry, goods sitting in the warehouse are liabilities. Only cash flowing in is ammunition."
"Before the 'winter chill' of the post-tax consumption cool-down arrives on April 1st, I want to see our warehouses cleaner than your faces."
"President Yanai," Satsuki said.
"Yes!" Tadashi Yanai straightened his back abruptly at the sound of his name.
"What is the current inventory at the Chiba warehouse?"
"As of eight o'clock this morning, 1.2 million units of S-Style basic T-shirts, 800,000 sweatshirts, and 500,000 sets of thermal underwear," Yanai reported without hesitation. "All are backlogged items shipped back from the Shanghai factory, per your request."
"Good."
Satsuki uncapped the marker and wrote a line on the whiteboard:
****
Yanai's pupils contracted slightly.
Even factoring in the extremely low cost from the Shanghai factory, the price still left profit. But to consumers, it would look like giving money away.
"President Yanai, I want this price plastered on every Uniqlo store window within three days," Satsuki said. "The slogan is: 'The Last Tax-Free Winter of the Showa Era.'"
"Tell them if they don't buy now, they'll have to pay extra tax next year. Tell them this is the last chance to stockpile underwear and socks."
"Don't worry about unit profit. I want clearance. I want to occupy their closets."
"Understood!" Yanai was so excited his hands trembled. He understood the destructive power of this strategy better than anyone.
Satsuki shifted her gaze to Endo.
"Managing Director Endo."
"Yes, young lady."
"Regarding S-Food, I want you to leverage our control over the three major convenience store chains," Satsuki said.
She drew a simple sketch of a can on the whiteboard.
"Launch a 'Family Disaster Preparedness Stockpile Pack.'"
"Bundle all those long-shelf-life curry meal packs, canned goods, rice, and even toilet paper and detergent."
"On the most prominent shelves of 7-Eleven, FamilyMart, and Lawson, put red labels that say 'Price Increase Warning from April 1st.'"
"Housewives are the shrewdest and the most prone to panic. When they see those words, they'll fill their storage rooms without hesitation."
Endo wiped sweat from his brow and nodded repeatedly. "But... what about Chairman Suzuki Toshifumi..."
"He'll agree," Satsuki said flatly. "Because he needs performance too. In the final frenzy before the price hike, no one turns their nose up at money."
"At most, have them release different versions of the stockpile pack. Collaborate with a few anime IPs."
Finally, Satsuki's gaze landed on Itakura.
Itakura instinctively shrank his neck.
"President Itakura."
"Ah! Yes!"
"S.A. Entertainment doesn't need to sell goods. Services cannot be stockpiled," Satsuki said, writing two words on the whiteboard: ****.
"However, we can sell the future."
"Issue 'Permanent Tax-Free Membership Cards.'"
"Charge 100,000 yen now, and members will enjoy a 3% consumption tax exemption for the next three years at all S.A.-owned KTVs and arcades."
Itakura was stunned. "Tax... tax-free? Who covers that 3%? Do we subsidize it?"
"Of course we cover it," Satsuki said, looking at Itakura as if he were a slow student. "But Itakura, what you get is 100,000 yen in cash right now."
"In this era of inflation, 100,000 yen today is worth much more than 100,000 yen three years from now."
"Moreover, once they buy the card, they're locked into our stores. To earn back that 3% tax money, they'll return that sum to us tenfold, a hundredfold, through frequent consumption."
"This is called interest-free financing."
Itakura's mouth hung open, unable to close for a long moment.
Looking at the girl standing calmly before the whiteboard, he felt a chill shoot from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.
This was too ruthless.
She was exploiting human weakness to its absolute extreme.
Yanai and Endo, watching Itakura's shocked expression, felt somewhat disdainful. This was nothing. They both remembered when the young lady had...
"Is everything clear?" Satsuki asked, capping the marker with a sharp snap and interrupting their thoughts.
"Crystal clear!" the three men answered in unison, their voices echoing in the conference room.
"Then get to work," Satsuki said.
She tossed the marker back into the pen tray.
The crisp impact made everyone's nerves tighten.
"Meeting adjourned."
At those two words, the three executives stood simultaneously, grabbed their documents, and headed for the door.