Evening, April 5, 1991.
Most of the cherry blossoms in Ueno Park had already fallen.
The wind blew across Shinobazu Pond, stirring up layers of fine ripples on the water's surface and sweeping the remaining petals from both sides of the path down to the steps of the Water Music Hall.
With only two days left until the official Tokyo gubernatorial election, Isomura Hisanori's schedule had begun at seven in the morning; after passing through Nerima, Toshima, and Taito, his final speech was scheduled here.
At the entrance to the Water Music Hall, only a single banner with black characters on a white background hung.
"Ensure those who complete the work are paid on time."
There were no flashy campaign slogans nearby, only a few signboards bearing Isomura's name.
Campaign staff in white jackets stood on both sides of the entrance, guiding the arriving crowd into the auditorium and handing out flyers printed with policy summaries.
More than half of the thousand or so seats in the venue were already filled.
Two hundred and thirty veteran members of the Independent Labor Mutual Aid Association were seated closest to the stage.
They wore dark blue work uniforms, with only a cloth badge pinned to their chests displaying their names and job types.
Some were responsible for tying rebar, some for pouring concrete, and others operated excavators and lifting equipment.
Half a year ago, many of them were still huddled under the bridge arches in Ueno Park, their clothes covered in mud and water, waiting for Yamada to distribute the cash for their unpaid wages provided by Saionji.
Today, they still could not be called respectable.
There were indelible cement stains on their uniform cuffs and cracks covering their rough palms, but everyone's hair was neatly groomed, and their work boots had been wiped clean.
A few had come directly from the construction site after their shifts, with measuring tapes and gloves still hanging from their waists.
Sitting behind them were family members, operators of small and medium-sized construction companies, supporters mobilised by local organisations of the Komeito and Democratic Socialist Party, as well as some ordinary citizens who had arrived on short notice after hearing the news.
Several television stations had set up cameras in front of the stage.
Reporters from the Yomiuri Shimbun and Asahi Shimbun occupied positions near the aisle, while those from economic newspapers were searching for company operators at the venue, asking them in advance about their views on financing plans and project payment settlements.
News of Saionji Group's public support for Isomura had already begun to circulate, and at least half of the reporters who came today were waiting for him to confirm it personally.
At exactly six in the evening, the host walked onto the stage and briefly introduced the theme of today's speech.
Several leaders from local organisations of the Komeito and Democratic Socialist Party gave speeches one after another, mostly focusing on small business operations and unemployment; although there was applause from the audience, the atmosphere never really became enthusiastic.
It was not until the host read out the name of the Independent Labor Mutual Aid Association that the two hundred and thirty workers at the front of the auditorium showed a clear reaction.
Yamada stood up from his seat and smoothed out the hem of his jacket.
He had not changed into a suit, still wearing the dark jacket he usually wore to construction sites, with only a white shirt added underneath.
As he walked onto the stage, he looked back at his companions, as if wanting to draw some confidence from those familiar faces.
"Everyone, I am not very good at giving speeches."
He stood in front of the microphone, smiling a little embarrassedly after saying that.
Someone in the front row immediately shouted:
"Big Brother Yamada, are you not quite good at scolding people?"
The surrounding area suddenly burst into laughter.
Yamada was not annoyed, reaching out to point at the person who spoke.
"So if I do not speak well today, I will scold him first later."
The laughter grew louder, and the previously somewhat reserved atmosphere finally relaxed.
Yamada waited for a moment before gripping the microphone again.
He clearly had not prepared any formal speech draft, occasionally pausing to find the right words when he spoke, but everything he said had been personally experienced by those in the front row.
"Many people here know me. I used to be a small subcontractor foreman, responsible for pushing progress and counting heads; I would scold whoever was late, and I would scold whoever was slacking off."
"But in September of last year, I even lost the job of scolding people."
He looked toward the front of the auditorium.
"Our original company went bankrupt. The president jumped from a building, the bank froze all accounts, and the completed projects went unsettled; the wages everyone had worked for over several months disappeared along with it."
The workers who were just laughing gradually quietened down.
"During that time, we lived under the bridge in this park. Some owed months of rent, some had family members lying in the hospital, with their families waiting for money."
"We went to the original union, and the union told us to keep waiting; we went to the bank, and the bank said the accounts were frozen and told us to find the company person in charge."
Yamada paused here.
"But the president was already dead; who else could we find?"
No one in the front row answered.
The sound of the wind coming from outside the Music Hall suddenly became exceptionally clear.
Yamada looked at those who had endured those days with him, his voice slowly deepening.
"Later, people from the Saionji Family came. They took the unpaid wage records left by the company, re-verified the names, work periods, and amounts owed, and then handed the money to us one by one."
"That money could not make up for all the unpaid wages, but at least some could pay their rent first, some could buy medicine for their families, and some finally dared to take the train back to see their wives and children."
"The Independent Labor Mutual Aid Association was established on that very day."
Yamada reached into the inside of his jacket and took out a light yellow envelope with worn edges.
"This is my salary envelope from last month."
He held the envelope up to his chest.
"Members of the Mutual Aid Association receive their wages on the 15th of every month. If it falls on a holiday, it is paid early; whatever is written on the outside is exactly what is inside. If it is even one yen short, you can all take your salary envelopes and block my door."
Someone in the front row immediately said loudly:
"We have not had the chance to do that yet!"
The workers laughed again. Someone took their own salary envelope out of their pocket and held it above their head, and those nearby followed suit upon seeing this.
Soon, rows of light yellow envelopes appeared at the front of the auditorium.
The people in the press section were initially a bit surprised, then immediately raised their cameras. The sound of dense shutter clicks lasted for a good while, and several television cameras also turned their lenses toward those labourers in work uniforms.
Yamada did not rush them, only retrieving his own salary envelope after the reporters had finished taking their pictures.
"I do not understand what an international cultural city is, nor do I know what Tokyo in the 21st century should look like."
"Of course, there are people who will consider those things, but what we consider first every day is whether there is work tomorrow and whether this month's wages can be paid on time."
"The Tokyo Metropolitan Government has allocated project funds, the company has completed the construction, and those who actually did the work should get their money. If the general contractor has operational problems, they can talk to the bank or undergo restructuring, but the people below who finished their work on time should not have to suffer starvation along with them."
He stopped there, turned around, and looked to the side of the stage.
"So we came here today to ask Mr. Isomura to answer one thing in front of everyone."
Yamada's voice raised a little.
"If you become the Governor of Tokyo, for projects issued by the Tokyo Metropolitan Government, can those who actually do the work get paid on time?"
This time, the applause rang out almost the moment his voice fell.
At first it was just the Mutual Aid Association members in the front row, then the family members and company operators sitting behind also raised their hands one after another. The applause spread backward along the rows of seats, quickly drowning out the sound of the wind outside the Music Hall.
When the host returned to the stage, he had to wait a few seconds before raising his voice amidst the applause that had not yet completely subsided.
"Next, please welcome the Tokyo gubernatorial candidate—Mr. Isomura Hisanori!"
The music started playing.
Isomura walked out from the side of the stage, but did not immediately walk to the microphone, instead coming to Yamada first and taking his hands in both of his.
"Mr. Yamada, thank you for your hard work."
Yamada nodded and yielded his spot to him.
Isomura then faced the very front of the auditorium and bowed deeply to those workers who were still holding up their salary envelopes, before walking to the microphone.
Isomura walked to the microphone without immediately opening his speech draft.
He had worked at NHK for many years and knew when the cameras were looking for expressions, and he knew where to pause in a passage so that the people at the scene would truly listen.
But at this moment, what he looked at first was still the front of the auditorium, those people wearing dark blue work uniforms with salary envelopes still in their hands.
"Mr. Yamada just asked me a question."
Isomura's voice spread throughout the entire Music Hall through the amplification equipment.
"For projects issued by the Tokyo Metropolitan Government, can those who actually do the work get paid on time?"
He paused slightly.
"My answer is, of course they should."
Applause quickly rang out from the front row.
Isomura did not rush to continue, waiting until that sound subsided slightly before continuing:
"But the current situation in Tokyo clearly has not achieved this."
"A month ago, I received a letter from Koto Ward."
"The letter was written by the president of a sewer construction company, who has twenty-seven employees under him. The part the company was responsible for was completed, and the inspection passed, and the Tokyo Metropolitan Government's budget had long been allocated, but the general contractor suffered losses on other projects and took the project funds that should have been paid to them to fill debts elsewhere."
"The workers were waiting to receive their wages, the material suppliers were waiting for payment, but the bank was demanding they provide additional collateral at this time."
Isomura picked up the letter, which had been processed to hide the names, from the podium.
"This president has already mortgaged his own residence."
"But he told me in the letter that even going to this extent, the company can only last for another month."
Low-voiced conversations soon came from the back of the auditorium.
Many company owners were no strangers to this situation.
The work was finished, and there were accounts receivable on the books, but when it came time to pay wages and supplier invoices, there was no actual cash on hand.
Every day the general contractor delayed, the smaller companies beneath them had to bow their heads to the bank once more.
Isomura placed the letter back on the podium.
"Every year, the Tokyo Metropolitan Government allocates a massive budget for roads, schools, sewers, and riverbank reinforcement. Once this money leaves the Metropolitan Government Building, it should become usable facilities, it should become income for construction companies, and it should become wages that workers bring home to their families."
"But right now, the funds get stuck between the general contractor and the layers of subcontractors, while the people who actually do the work have to borrow money just to keep their companies running."
"This must change."
He lifted his head, his gaze slowly moving from the front row to the back.
"Once you entrust me with the responsibility of Governor of Tokyo, I will do three things first."
"Projects contracted by the Tokyo Metropolitan Government will be confirmed in stages based on actual construction progress. As a general rule, the portions that pass inspection will be settled within thirty days."
"Thirty days."
Isomura repeated the number.
"For work that has been completed, the Tokyo Metropolitan Government must provide a clear payment date."
This time, the applause was more synchronised than before.
Workers in the front row clapped vigorously, and the company owners sitting behind them also began to raise their hands. Someone in the press section quickly lowered their head and circled the words "thirty days" in their notebook.
"When a general contractor enters restructuring or stops payments due to operational issues, the confirmed project funds will be managed separately."
Isomura raised his voice slightly.
"The debts between the general contractor and the bank can be handled by them. But the work already completed by subcontractors and the labour already provided by workers must not be used to cover losses from other projects."
"The money that should be paid to the construction companies must be paid out first."
Applause erupted again, and this time, many people in the back rows joined in.
Isomura waited a moment before announcing the third arrangement.
"Small and medium-sized companies holding Tokyo Metropolitan Government project confirmation documents will also be able to use these accounts receivable to apply for bridge financing."
"What the bank needs to confirm is whether the work has been completed and how much the Tokyo Metropolitan Government is obligated to pay, not repeatedly demand that company owners put up their homes and family land as collateral."
"The Metropolitan Government will establish a dedicated office responsible for verifying progress and payable amounts. Once companies receive the working capital, they can continue to purchase materials and pay wages, and construction sites will not have to shut down while waiting for settlement."
At this point, his gaze returned to Yamada and the members of the Independent Labor Mutual Aid Association.
"For labourers who have already lost their previous jobs, the Tokyo Metropolitan Government will also establish a unified skills registry."
"People who know how to tie rebar should go to sites that need rebar workers. People with heavy equipment certifications should not be sitting at home waiting for their licences to expire."
"Tokyo still has roads to build, schools and sewers to maintain, and a large number of projects underway in the waterfront area."
"As long as someone is responsible for reconnecting companies, construction sites, and labourers, more people will return to the workforce."
Isomura reached out and pointed to the very front of the audience.
"Everyone sitting here today has already proven that this can be done."
"Half a year ago, some people were waiting under the bridge in Ueno Park for back pay. Today, they are able to receive their wages on time every month and have returned to the construction sites."
"The Tokyo Metropolitan Government can help more people achieve what the Independent Labor Mutual Aid Association has done."
Yamada was the first to start clapping.
The two hundred and thirty members of the Independent Labor Mutual Aid Association raised their hands immediately after, and the families and company owners familiar with their experiences soon joined in as well.
The applause lasted for a long time. Isomura stood behind the podium, waiting quietly without interrupting them with new words.
Once the concert hall quietened down again, he placed his hands on either side of the podium.
"There is one more thing I want to tell you all personally today."
Someone in the press section quickly looked up.
"The Saionji Group has decided to support me in this Tokyo gubernatorial election."
A slight commotion broke out in the front of the audience.
Some people subconsciously looked at the person next to them, while others turned around to look at the press section. Isomura took in all these reactions, his tone remaining unchanged.
"I know that when you hear a large corporation publicly supporting a candidate, you will have doubts in your hearts."
"So I will not just tell you who Saionji is supporting."
"I will tell you what they have already decided to do."
Isomura picked up another document.
"Starting this month, Saionji Construction will expand its procurement and subcontracting scale within Tokyo, and will be the first to adopt the settlement arrangements I just mentioned."
"Partner banks will establish a financing window for small and medium-sized enterprises. Companies that have completed work and are waiting for settlement can submit project documentation and the accounts receivable amount for bank review."
"The Independent Labor Mutual Aid Association will also continue to register the skills of unemployed labourers and arrange for qualified individuals to join new construction sites launched by Saionji Construction and its partner companies."
He set the document down.
"This work will not wait until after the election is over to begin."
"The first batch of applications will be accepted this week, and construction sites that can resume work will do so one after another this month."
As Isomura's voice trailed off, applause broke out in the front row first.
This time, the applause did not stop quickly. The company owners who had been sitting and talking joined in one after another, people in the back rows stood up, and several reporters began to leave their seats, preparing to send the news back to their editorial departments before the speech ended.
The sound surged backward along the auditorium, crossing the last row of seats and filtering into the room through the glass of the second-floor control room.
Satsuki was standing next to the sound and lighting console, watching the scene below quietly.
She was wearing a very plain light-coloured jacket today (picked up randomly at a Uniqlo she had passed by). Chizuru stood a few steps away, holding the jacket she had changed out of, and a bit further away, several staff members from Isomura's office accompanied them quietly, without coming forward to disturb them.
Through the glass, the applause did not sound as loud as it did in the hall, but the changes in the audience were clearer.
Satsuki saw it all: who had been clapping from the beginning, which company owners only reacted when they heard about the financing and resumption dates, and from which sentence the reporters began to frequently lower their heads to take notes.
She was holding a small handbag, her gaze passing over the audience and landing on the centre of the stage.
Isomura stood under the flood of lights, his movements and pauses controlled and steady.
When the workers in the front row raised their hands to applaud, he did not rush to continue speaking; he would wait until the photographers had finished shooting before approaching the microphone again.
This was indeed something he was good at.
Satsuki watched him, and the results of that Tokyo gubernatorial election from her past life gradually surfaced in her memory.
At the time, Isomura Hisanori did not lack support. The Liberal Democratic Party headquarters stood behind him, the Komeito and the Democratic Socialist Party also publicly endorsed him, and coupled with the fame accumulated over his many years in journalism and his distinct internationalist image, he had enjoyed much higher attention than the average candidate from the moment he announced his candidacy.
But the power controlled by Suzuki Shunichi was rooted much deeper.
The Tokyo Federation of the Liberal Democratic Party, the Metropolitan Assembly members, and the local support organisations that had been cultivated for years all chose Suzuki.
Therefore, the harder the party headquarters pushed for Isomura, the easier it was for Tokyo voters to see him as a candidate arranged by Nagatacho.
Tokyoites could accept party recommendations and could accept support from the business world, but they found it difficult to accept central bureaucrats deciding the candidate for governor on their behalf.
To change his overly elitist image, the Isomura of her past life even went to a public bathhouse to scrub the backs of the elderly.
The photos did indeed make it into the newspapers, but that deliberately staged approachability did not change many people's opinions; his status as an NHK celebrity and his internationalist resume were still there, which instead made many voters feel that he was just awkwardly imitating the lives of ordinary people.
In the end, Isomura received over 1.43 million votes.
Suzuki received over 2.29 million votes.
The gap between the two was over 850,000 votes.
Such a gap was difficult to bridge by relying on more advertising and campaign funds, so Satsuki had not intended from the very beginning to let Isomura chase after Suzuki along the original path.
Isomura had his own advantages.
The support of the party headquarters, the fame accumulated from the television era, and the business world willing to invest resources in him were all powers that could truly be utilised.
And what Saionji had to do was turn these powers into projects, financing, and wages that voters could see.
Those two hundred and thirty workers under the stage were the first proof Saionji had handed to Isomura.
They had once been unable to get the wages they had already earned, and they had once crowded under the bridge in Ueno Park waiting for news. Today, they had returned to the construction sites and were able to receive their pay envelopes on time every month.
Isomura did not need to go to a bathhouse again to prove he knew ordinary people.
As long as he let the voters see that he had the ability to get these people's lives running again, that would be enough.
This speech today certainly would not bring in 850,000 votes, but it could make reporters re-evaluate Isomura, get companies waiting for project payments to actively contact the campaign office, and force the Suzuki camp to explain to their own supporters why the other side had already produced financing quotas and resumption dates.
Accomplishing this was already enough.
Satsuki took one last look at Isomura, who was still standing in the centre of the stage, and then turned around.
"Let us go, Chizuru."
She switched her handbag to her other hand.
"To the backstage."