At 10:00 AM, sunlight passed through the double-pane glass and reflected off the epoxy floor.
Several black Toyota Crowns arrived at the Saionji Biotechnology Center, carrying the scent of sea air. The doors opened, and leather shoes contacted the concrete with distinct sounds.
"This is the famous 'Future Farm'? Impressive," said Chairman Iwamura of the Okawara Agricultural Cooperative. He was in his sixties, portly, and wore a gray suit that was slightly large. His sparse hair was combed back. He looked up at the steel-and-glass dome and whistled. "It resembles a space station from science fiction."
Section Chief Sato followed him, nodding without engagement. As a Hokkaido Agricultural Bureau official, he had no interest in disputes between a zaibatsu and local authorities. He wanted the inspection concluded.
Professor Kijima waited for them in a white lab coat, holding a tablet. "Chairman Iwamura, Section Chief Sato, this way please." Kijima stepped aside and spoke in a professional tone. "We are currently in Zone A, where a full-spectrum automated analysis system monitors each plant in real time."
The group entered the greenhouse.
Iwamura showed little interest in photosynthetic efficiency or nutrient solution ratios. His attention moved to the equipment, and he ran a finger along a stainless steel cultivation rack.
There was no dust.
"This equipment must be expensive," Iwamura interrupted Kijima and turned to him.
"This hydroponic circulation system cost approximately 150 million yen," Kijima answered directly.
"One hundred fifty million," Iwamura said, his expression calculating. "Tokyo budgets are substantial. People who work the land would not earn that in several lifetimes."
He stopped examining the strawberries. With his hands behind his back, he walked toward the VIP lounge on the second floor as if familiar with the location. The lounge had floor-to-ceiling glass with a view of the greenhouse and the sea.
Everyone sat.
"Excuse me." Amy entered with a tray. She wore a neat uniform and a ponytail. Although nervous, she placed the tea and fruit plate steadily.
On the plate were freshly picked Amaou strawberries. They were large and red.
"Chairman Iwamura, Section Chief Sato, please help yourselves."
Satsuki sat at the head of the table.
She did not wear her usual business attire. Today she wore a pale pink dress with a pearl hairpin, presenting the appearance of a middle-school student from a wealthy family.
"So these are the two-thousand-yen strawberries?" Iwamura picked one up and examined it before eating. "I hear they sell out in Ginza. Miss Saionji, you are young and capable. We cannot keep pace."
"You are too kind, Chairman." Satsuki smiled, her voice clear. "I considered it an interesting project, so I asked Professor Kijima to cultivate them. I did not expect them to be this popular."
Iwamura bit into the strawberry.
"It is sweet," he said. He set the half-eaten berry down, wiped his hands with a handkerchief, and leaned forward. His smile became less pronounced.
"But Miss Saionji," Iwamura said, lowering his voice, "good products do not resolve all issues."
Satsuki blinked, appearing confused. "What is the matter? Are the strawberries not sweet enough?"
"No, the strawberries are excellent." Iwamura waved a hand. "I am referring to local farmers. They have been contacting the Cooperative with complaints. Your trucks operate continuously, and the noise disturbs their chickens. The hens have stopped laying eggs."
Amy, standing nearby, maintained her expression.
This area had been undeveloped for kilometers. There were no farmers or chickens.
Iwamura sighed, adopting the manner of a mediator. "We have cooperated on transport previously, and I have addressed concerns. But rural residents are easily agitated. Once upset, roads can be blocked. Pavement may require repair. Accidents occur."
The request was clear.
The previous payment was insufficient. He wanted an additional road maintenance fee and was using the inspection as leverage.
Section Chief Sato raised his teacup, pretended to drink, and looked out the window.
The room became silent.
"I understand," Satsuki said, continuing to eat a strawberry as if she had not heard the implication.
She reached for another one. "Amy, try this." She offered it to Amy behind her, with the tone of a young girl. "This one appears darker than the previous one. It might be sweeter?"
Amy paused, then understood. She accepted it. "Does it? I will try."
Iwamura's expression shifted. He was being ignored.
"Miss Saionji?"
"Apologies," Satsuki turned back to him, still smiling innocently. "What were you saying, Chairman Iwamura? Chickens not laying?"
She frowned, appearing concerned. "That is unfortunate. Should I ask Professor Kijima to examine the chickens? He is from Tokyo University. He may be able to assist."
Amy covered her mouth and turned away to cough.
Iwamura's mouth tightened.
"Miss Saionji, I am not joking." His voice became serious. "For long-term cooperation, the Saionji family should demonstrate good faith."
"Good faith?" Satsuki tilted her head and indicated the strawberries.
"These strawberries are our good faith. Do you know the Brix level? It is 15. If they are not sweet enough…"
She suddenly called toward the door: "Professor Kijima. Professor Kijima. The guest says the strawberries are not sweet. How are you cultivating these? If this continues, I will reduce all your funding."
Professor Kijima did not enter. He was likely confused by the sudden criticism.
Iwamura and Sato exchanged glances.
They had prepared arguments about local politics, profit distribution, and informal agreements. Their approach had no effect.
This was a sheltered heiress who did not understand business conventions. Discussing informal rules with her was ineffective.
Iwamura lost patience.
Continuing discussion with a child was unproductive.
"Miss Saionji." Iwamura sat upright. His smile disappeared. "Regarding regional development, I believe I should speak with your father. When can Mr. Saionji Shuichi visit Hokkaido? I would like to discuss further cooperation with him directly."
Translation: Bring me the decision-maker.
Satsuki sighed.
She reclined in her chair, played with a strawberry stem. Her smile became resigned.
"Father…" She extended the word.
"I wish he would come. But he has been very busy recently."
"Busy?" Iwamura said with skepticism. "Busier than this?"
"Yes." Satsuki nodded and counted on her fingers. "Last week, Yoshiaki Tsutsumi took him golfing for three days. It concerned Seibu Group's IPO. I do not understand golf. Yesterday, the vice-minister of MITI hosted him for dinner to discuss import quotas. And the president of Mitsui Bank calls daily, requesting Father's presence in Tokyo for a new development…"
She sounded increasingly irritated, then spread her hands.
"So Father said Hokkaido is my responsibility. As long as I do not damage the mountains, I may proceed as I wish. Spend what I wish. The priority is my comfort."
She looked up, her expression clear.
"Chairman Iwamura, if you wish to meet Father, you will need to go to Tokyo and schedule an appointment. Would you like me to provide the secretariat's number?"
Iwamura's hand paused on his teacup. His fingers moved on the rim, and his eyes narrowed.
Yoshiaki Tsutsumi. MITI. Mitsui Bank.
As suspected.
Officials from the Tokyo Agriculture and Forestry Tribe had indicated that Saionji's influence had increased. Ancestral political connections had been reactivated, and the family's position in the faction was strengthening. They had relationships with Seibu and finance.
Now it was confirmed. He had underestimated them. Three days of golf with Tsutsumi indicated a close relationship.
No wonder Tokyo instructed the Hokkaido JA to cooperate on agricultural matters.
He looked at the innocent girl across from him.
If Saionji applied pressure using Tokyo connections, JA could resist. But that would expend political capital in the Diet. Using political credit for toll money would be unwise.
JA had already secured concessions in the previous agreement with transport contracts and cafeteria supply. Their position had been acknowledged. Further conflict was unnecessary.
Public criticism did not affect JA's foundation.
"Hahaha…" The calculation required seconds.
Iwamura laughed, and his expression relaxed. He adopted a benevolent manner.
He set his cup down and did not mention the appointment again.
"If your father is that occupied, we will not disturb him. The Saionji family manages substantial operations. Impressive."
He picked up a strawberry and praised it loudly, as if the chicken issue had not been raised.
"These strawberries are sweet. Truly sweet. Miss Saionji has excellent judgment. With you here, Okawara agriculture will prosper."
The matter was concluded. The terms were accepted. No further challenges.
Section Chief Sato exhaled and added, "Yes, a source of pride for Hokkaido."
"Really?" Satsuki's smile widened, childlike. "Then please promote them after you return. Amy, prepare gift boxes for our guests."
"Of course." Amy concealed her amusement and packed two boxes of S-grade strawberries.
Minutes later, the black sedans departed from the Biotech Center.
The lounge became quiet.
Satsuki walked to the window, observed the convoy diminish in the distance, and picked up a strawberry. She took a bite.
"They left?" Amy asked, watching Satsuki's expression.
"They left." Satsuki turned, saw Amy's face, and laughed. "You were nervous."
"I was concerned I would laugh," Amy admitted with a laugh of her own. "I did not know Satsuki-chan could act as a naive heiress. I assumed you were always commanding."
Amy imitated her with exaggerated gestures: "You will comply. All is under my control."
"Do I seem like a dictator to you?" Satsuki said, picking up another strawberry.
"Now, I instruct you. Eat this."
"Thank you, Your Majesty." Amy accepted it seriously.
"But, Majesty. That chairman… will he create problems? He appears calculating."
Satsuki finished eating, her tone casual.
"He is a businessman and a politician. Once he calculates that conflict costs more than cooperation, he will be agreeable."
She stretched, resuming her relaxed posture.
"Amy, come here."
She went to the sink in the corner.
"Did you shake hands with that chairman?"
"No."
"I did." Satsuki turned the tap and dispensed soap into her hands.
White foam formed, releasing a lemon scent.
She washed thoroughly, cleaning between her fingers, under her nails, and across all surfaces. It was methodical, like a procedure.
"Even if it is performance, when you contact that type of avarice, you must remove it. Completely."
Satsuki hummed, making the hand-washing deliberate as foam reached the mirror.
Amy observed their reflections.
One was a zaibatsu heiress who influenced adults strategically.
Now she was playing with soap bubbles, smiling like someone with hygiene concerns.
Satsuki was mature for her age in most situations. But with increased time together, Amy observed the younger aspects of her personality.
Amy laughed aloud.
"What?" Satsuki turned, with foam on her cheek.
"Nothing. I think Satsuki-chan is good like this as well."