novelones Chapter 376 The Eve of the Empire's Demolition
Chapter 376 The Eve of the Empire's Demolition
(Thanks to "Listening to the Rain is Not UB" for the amazing certification! Two chapters today~)
On December 31st, it got dark in Leningrad much earlier than in Tokyo.
Just after three o'clock in the afternoon, the sky outside the window had already begun to darken.
The wind blowing from the direction of the Neva River swept away the last few withered leaves from the branches, leaving only bare birch trunks standing in the snow in the villa courtyard, like a row of plucked specimens.
The atmosphere at the state villa on Cammane Island is completely different today than it was a few days ago.
Sobchak did not arrange a meeting, and Chubais did not send any more documents. When Kozlov left yesterday, he said, "I wish you all a pleasant New Year's Eve," and his tone finally lacked the air of using official rhetoric as a lubricant in the conversation.
Amy was lying on the long table in the living room, with a small TV borrowed from the restaurant in front of her.
The screen was showing something that looked like a variety show, with several men in flashy costumes talking on stage, and Russian subtitles scrolling by rapidly.
"What is this person saying..." Amy pressed her face close to the screen, trying to decipher the lip movements. "Chizuru-nee, can you understand it?"
Chizuru was arranging the Japanese sweets she had brought onto plates one by one on the counter in the kitchen. She glanced up at the television screen.
"Can't understand."
"Sigh—" Amy pressed her face against the table. "The Soviet New Year's programs are so strange. They're completely different from Japan's Kohaku Uta Gassen."
"Do you understand the Red and White Song Festival?"
"You can listen to the songs even if you don't understand them," Amy said, lifting her head from the table. "I can't even understand the songs in this."
Satsuki sat in an armchair by the window, a Russian travel guide that was already more than half-read on her lap.
Her gaze followed the windowpane outwards, landing on the embankment across the river. (Kamenée Island is an island in the Neva River delta.)
People occasionally pass by on the road.
A middle-aged couple wearing old cotton-padded coats were carrying a small fir tree with several colorful paper ribbons tied to it, which were fluttering in the wind.
An elderly woman wearing a headscarf slowly walked by, carrying a paper bag. A section of the metal seal of a champagne bottle was visible inside the bag.
Further on, three young people ran across the road. One of them opened the lid of a candy box he was carrying amidst the bumps, and colorful candy wrappers flew out and landed on the gray-white snow like scattered flowers.
Supplies are still in short supply. The day before yesterday, when I passed by Nevsky Prospekt, there were long queues in front of the shops.
But today, these people, carrying cheap Soviet champagne, a few pieces of candy, and a fir tree that wasn't even as tall as their arms, walked much faster than when they were queuing.
Satsuki closed the travel guide and placed it on the windowsill.
This city is very interesting.
On one hand, he was so poor that he was about to sell his medals, but on the other hand, he insisted on putting a cedar branch on the windowsill and a bottle of cheap champagne on the table.
She thought of the empty shop windows at GUM and the workers holding up cardboard signs in front of the Winter Palace. Those people would probably be sitting at home tonight, watching TV, waiting for the New Year's bells to ring, waiting for things to get better after midnight.
She wouldn't laugh at these people, but unfortunately, things aren't going to get any better.
Barring any unforeseen miracles, the Soviet Union in this world will likely disintegrate on December 26th of next year.
As she looked out the window at the people hurrying home, something else came to mind.
If an old palace is marked as slated for demolition, then before the bulldozers arrive, it's worthwhile to determine in advance which bricks can be removed, which iron gates can be dismantled, and which pillars have another use for their stone.
When Moscow television stops broadcasting the Soviet national anthem next year, oil fields will be fought over, mines will be eyed, and fleets and arms factories will be contested. Everyone will be watching the biggest and most conspicuous ones.
Which bricks are worth removing, which pillars can be reused, and which iron gates can be melted down and recast?
Satsuki had already mentally listed them all out.
Just as she was thinking, there was a knock on the door downstairs.
After a moment, Fujita pushed the door open and came in. He was holding a kraft paper envelope, sealed with the standard sealing tape of the Saionji Group headquarters, and with a white air express label attached to it.
"Miss, year-end letters forwarded from Tokyo. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs mailbag arrived in Moscow yesterday, and the liaison office sent someone to Leningrad this morning."
Satsuki reached out and took it.
The envelope was thick, but there wasn't much she actually needed to read herself.
No shortage of New Year's greetings would arrive at the Saionji family's residence at the end of the year. Greetings from former noble families, business cards from bankers, congratulatory messages from cooperative companies, courtesy letters from local politicians, and New Year's greetings from subordinate company employees as was customary—enough to fill several boxes in the general affairs office of their Tokyo home.
But those things won't be sent to Leningrad.
The General Affairs Department will register the items, the Secretariat will return the gift, and Endo and his office will select the parts with business implications. In the end, only things that the Tokyo side believes "the young lady shouldn't wait until she returns home to see" will make it into this manila envelope.
The first document is the group's general affairs department's year-end routine summary, listing the main congratulatory messages and gifts received at our residence. It's a standard official document with little content.
The second document was a short message from Endo in Osaka, confirming that the first batch of letters of credit on the Sumitomo manufacturing side had completed the entire process and would be fully settled by the end of the year.
The third copy was tucked behind a white sticky note. The note had Endo's handwriting on it.
—"This document appears to be a year-end greeting, but it concerns the review of old project data for the Saionji construction project in a cold region. Signed Gondo Tokuhiro. Subordinates believe it should be reviewed by the young lady herself."
Satsuki's finger paused on that line of text for a moment.
Gondo Dehiro.
She thought for a while before remembering who the former president of Daito Construction was.
This person doesn't have much interaction with me, so the fact that they're writing to me alone like this probably means...
Satsuki unfolded the letter.
The first part is a respectful New Year's greeting.
The wording was formal and the sentence structure conservative, using the format of old-fashioned business letters. Phrases like "Happy New Year" and "Wishing the Group continued prosperity" would not attract attention in any year-end greeting letter to a superior.
The tone changed in the second half.
"...During the review of parameters for old projects in cold regions, when subordinates were compiling the correspondence between cost figures and externally disclosed information, they discovered an interpretation risk. The nature of this matter was not suitable for explanation via telegram or usual written channels."
"I urge you, Miss, to allow me to report the details in person upon your return to the country. Until then, this information will be submitted as per the group's instructions, and I will not handle it separately."
The letter ended there. After reading it, Satsuki chuckled softly.
Amy looked up from the TV and glanced at her. "Satsuki-chan, whose letter is this?"
"It's a job offer from Tokyo," Satsuki said. "It's nothing important."
Amy said "Oh," and turned back to watch TV.
The variety show on the screen had a different cast; a female singer was singing something, and the melody was actually more pleasant to listen to than the men's voices from before.
Fujita's eyes flickered slightly.
"Young Miss, should the Tokyo authorities immediately take control of the relevant personnel?"
"Not for now." Satsuki folded the letter again and put it back in the envelope. "Reply to him that he should wait for an audience after returning home, and continue organizing the documents as usual. No additional action is needed."
Fujita lowered his head.
"clear."
"The words 'No further action needed' should be returned exactly as they were."
Fujita lowered his head again.
"Yes."
Satsuki placed the envelope under the folder beside her and didn't look at it again.
The mess Gondo was already discovered in Maki's second month in office. His letter came neither too early nor too late.
However, in reality, the money he embezzled actually exacerbated Yoshiaki Tsutsumi's burden. From the perspective of poison, he could even be considered a contributor.
The problem is that this makes it easy for the other party to seize on a weakness and turn the tables on you.
The fire in Tokyo hadn't even started yet, but he could already smell the smoke, which at least showed that he wasn't foolish enough to sell himself directly to Seibu.
A person who knows fear is always more useful than someone who thinks they can get away with anything.
Seibu couldn't give him a way out.
What Tsutsumi Yoshiaki needs is a pretext to reopen discussions about Gokurakukan, not to protect Gondo's reputation in his later years. When things really come to a head, Gondo, a remnant of the old Daito Construction faction who was co-opted by Saionji, will become the most suitable witness and dirty glove to be pushed to the forefront.
If he couldn't even understand this, he wouldn't be alive today.
……
Dinner was prepared by Chizuru.
The dinner menu had originally been prepared by the Soviet kitchen.
Cold dishes, smoked fish, aspic, sour cream salad, caviar, roast chicken, desserts, and several bottles of Soviet champagne were all listed on the paper, even accompanied by a small line of neatly written French names. Even though long lines were forming outside shops throughout the city, the state guesthouse's supply system managed to maintain a semblance of decorum.
However, after looking at the menu, Satsuki crossed out most of it.
"Let them go home early today too," she said.
Leaving a group of Soviet chefs and waiters at the villa to serve the Japanese guests on New Year's Eve seemed too much like some outdated imperial tradition. What Sobchak needed now was not this kind of superficial formality, but rather to reduce the resentment of everyone willing to work for him.
So in the end, all that was left were a few things that had already been prepared: bread, sour cream, smoked fish, pickles, a small box of caviar, and a chicken that had been marinated in advance.
Chizuru put the chicken in the oven and then used miso soup dumplings and rice brought from Tokyo to put together a New Year's Eve dinner that was neither fish nor fowl but surprisingly edible.
Amy ate two bowls of rice, then held the pickled cucumber on her chopsticks, twirled it three times, and finally put it in her mouth, her expression complicated.
"It's sour."
"Soviet pickles are sour." Chizuru placed the miso soup in front of her. "Drink the soup to rinse it off."
Shuichi sat at the head of the table, slowly eating the smoked fish in front of him. He was in much better shape than a few days ago, and the fatigue on his face had faded somewhat, probably because he hadn't been assigned to sit at the conference table to entertain Soviet officials for several days in a row.
After the meal, Fujita cleared away the dishes. Chizuru brewed a pot of black tea she had brought from Tokyo, a habit of Satsuki's—she always carried enough black tea with her wherever she went.