Reborn in Tokyo: From Heiress to Global Tycoon

Chapter 353 Matsushiro Tsuru

The light in the study is different from that in the Japanese-style room yesterday.

The Japanese-style room relies on natural light, which filters in through the shoji paper, creating a soft and directional ambiance.

The desk lamp was on in the study, with the light source at the back left of the desk, illuminating half of the desk while the other half remained in shadow.

Satsuki sat behind the table.

She wore a dark navy blue cardigan, the collar revealing a sliver of the edge of a white shirt. Her hair was loose, falling over her shoulders, with a strand on the right side resting in front of her collarbone.

She held a fountain pen in her hand. Several sticky notes were spread out on the table, with ink stains on them.

Chizuru knelt at the doorway and bowed. Her hands were about a fist's width apart, and her forehead rested three inches above her fingertips.

"Sit down." Satsuki's voice was flat, just like yesterday.

Chizuru stood up, walked to a spot three feet in front of the table, and knelt down.

Satsuki placed the pen in the pen holder. She leaned back in her chair, clasped her hands in front of her abdomen, and looked at Chizuru's face.

She didn't say anything, she just looked at Chizuru.

Chizuru waited for two seconds, then immediately realized that those two seconds were reserved for her.

"What Chizuru said yesterday, I am presenting again today."

"explain."

"Chizuru's mother, Matsumuro Shizue, worked as a girl in Lady Yuriko's family home when she was young." Chizuru's voice was low, and she spoke a little slower than yesterday. "My mother was clumsy with her hands and tongue, but Lady Yuriko never disliked her. The two were close in age, and Lady Yuriko treated my mother like her own sister."

She paused for a moment.

"After Lady Yuriko got married, her mother was forced to resign from her position at the girls' school and return to her hometown due to her father's death and the family's debts. Lady Yuriko learned about this."

Satsuki remained silent.

"My mother used her personal dowry to pay off all her debts. She also arranged for her to work as a packer at a tea factory in Uji."

Chizuru's gaze remained fixed on a spot two inches below Satsuki's neck.

The adults only gave one instruction—'Raise your daughter well.'

"My mother passed away when I was thirteen," Chizuru said. "A month before she passed away, she told me something. She said that she only owed one person a debt of gratitude in her life. That person's name was Yuriko."

Satsuki's fingers rested on the armrest of the chair, without moving.

"After my mother passed away, Lady Yuriko entrusted me to the care of Mrs. Kujo. From the age of thirteen, I worked as a girl in the Kujo household. I washed dishes, swept the floor, and groomed the cats. I did odd jobs for four years, then worked as a regular girl in the household for three years, and then went on to work at the Imperial Girls' School. This year marks my eighteenth year."

She spoke of those years in a very dry way, as if these experiences had nothing to do with her.

"In addition, Madam Kujo also gave me systematic combat training. I was trained by an instructor from the Kujo family who was a retired Self-Defense Force member."

She didn't elaborate on the training content, nor did she say what she could or couldn't do.

"That's all." Chizuru lowered her head again. "Chizuru once again begs Miss to allow her to stay by my side and serve me."

After listening, Satsuki remained silent for about five seconds.

Then she stood up.

"Come for a walk with me."

……

Under the eaves of the courtyard.

In November in Tokyo, the sun is low in the morning, around nine o'clock. Light filters quietly through the treetops to the east, falling in patches on the wooden planks along the edge.

Satsuki stood on the edge of the rim, facing the courtyard.

Chizuru stood a step and a half behind her.

Under the silver osmanthus tree, a bird was pecking at something on the ground. After pecking twice, it flew away.

"Chizuru".

"exist."

Satsuki did not turn back.

"You want to serve me because you owe my mother."

"Yes."

"But the person you owe is Yuriko." Satsuki's voice was soft, carried by the cold air in the courtyard, and didn't travel far. "I'm not Yuriko."

Chizuru did not respond.

Satsuki turned around.

The morning light shone from behind her, casting half of her face in shadow.

"What if I don't accept?"

Chizuru's right hand rested on her knee, her fingertips touching Iromuji's fabric.

"Chizuru will return to Kyoto to report back," she said.

"and then?"

"Then she continued to work at the Kujo family's school for girls until the young lady needed someone one day."

"What if I never need it in my entire life?"

Chizuru looked at Satsuki. Her gaze moved up a little from two inches below his neck—to his chin.

"Chizuru will wait forever."

Satsuki's lips twitched slightly. The movement was so subtle that it was hard to tell if it was a smile or something else.

"Second question," she said, walking westward along the edge of the path, "What makes you think you can gain my trust?"

This time, Chizuru's silence lasted a little longer.

"It's not because of anything." She followed beside Satsuki and shook her head slightly.

Satsuki raised her eyebrows slightly.

"Trust is given by the master." Chizuru's speech was a beat slower than usual. "What Chizuru can do is stand where you can see me every day, do what you ask me to do, without being lazy, lying, or hiding anything."

She paused for a moment.

"Enough time has passed; you will naturally make your own judgment."

"A very honest answer," Satsuki said, her tone neither praising nor criticizing.

They walked slowly until they came to a camellia tree at the western end of the path. The flowers had not yet bloomed; only a few tightly closed buds hung on the branches.

Satsuki stopped there, reached out and touched the nearest flower bud, then slowly turned to look at Chizuru.

"The third question—" Her gaze swept down from Chizuru's face, lingering for a moment near the knot of her obi. "As you can see, I have no shortage of people around me."

Why should I add you? What makes you special?

Chizuru answered faster than the previous two.

"I can go to places that Mr. Fujita can't go."

Satsuki did not ask any further questions.

"The bathhouse of a hot spring inn, the changing room of a woman in a ryotei (traditional Japanese restaurant), the bedroom late at night, and the tea party at a girls' school."

"Men can't go into these places."

Satsuki looked at her.

"Also—" Chizuru's hand moved slightly at her waist, her fingers touching a slightly raised area under the folds of her clothes, before she withdrew it.

"My hands can do more than just serve tea and fold blankets."

After he finished speaking, the courtyard was quiet for about three seconds.

The bird flew back, pecked twice more under the osmanthus tree, and then tilted its head to look in the direction of the edge.

Satsuki smiled.

It was a little bigger than the one in the Japanese-style room yesterday, and the corners of her mouth curved up.

"Not bad." She walked to the pillar on the edge of the corridor, reached out and picked up the dark red maple leaf from the crossbeam. She twirled it halfway between her fingers.

Then she stopped laughing.

"The last two questions."

Her voice suddenly turned somber.

To whom do you pledge your loyalty?

Chizuru's answer was without pause.

"For Lady Yuriko's daughter."

"For Yuriko's daughter," Satsuki repeated, omitting the word "sama." "Not for the Saionji family?"

"You can change your family name," Chizuru said, "but you can't change your blood."

Satsuki's fingers stopped.

The maple leaf was held between her index finger and thumb, with the stem pointing downwards.

"Second—" Her gaze fixed on Chizuru's eyes. This was the first time this morning that their eyes had met directly.

"If one day, the interests of the Saionji family conflict with what you believe is right, whose side will you take?"

Chizuru did not answer immediately.

A breeze stirred in the courtyard, causing the branches of the silver osmanthus to sway slightly.

The bird finally flew away, the sound of its flapping wings leaving a short trail in the air.

Approximately four seconds passed.

"I'm standing beside you," Chizuru said.

Satsuki waits.

"You are the one to judge whether it is right or wrong."

Satsuki looked at her for a long time.

A sliver of sunlight, long enough to reach the edge, moved from the third crack in the wooden plank to the fifth.

Then Satsuki smiled.

This smile was different from the previous ones. The previous smiles were just the curve of the corners of the mouth, a way of controlling the atmosphere. This smile, however, moved upwards from the corners of the mouth, reaching the eyes.

"You know what?" She placed the maple leaf on the crossbeam of the corridor pillar.

Of all your answers, the one I'm most satisfied with is the four seconds of silence you had.

Chizuru lowered her head slightly.

"I don't trust people who accept without even thinking." Satsuki turned to face the courtyard, her voice softening. "You thought it through carefully, and then still chose me—that means you made a decision, not just expressed an opinion."

She didn't look at Chizuru again.

"However—" she paused for a moment. "You said the one who is loyal is Yuriko's daughter."

The wind has passed, and the branches of the silver osmanthus are no longer swaying.

"I will make you loyal to me."

This is a declarative sentence. There was neither threat nor enticement; it seemed she had no doubt whatsoever that she could accomplish it.

Chizuru bowed down, her forehead touching her fingertips three inches above her head, performing a standard greeting for newcomers.

Satsuki had already turned back. She didn't stop as she passed Chizuru.

"Get up and come back with me."

……

study.

Satsuki sat down behind the table, picked up the small copper bell, and shook it.

Fujita pushed the door open as quickly as he had yesterday.

"Fujita."

"exist."

Satsuki picked up a pen and wrote two lines on a sticky note. After finishing, she pushed the note to the edge of the table.

"From this day forward, Matsumuro Chizuru will be assigned to the Saionji family's servant ranks."

Fujita's gaze swept across the paper, then he looked up and glanced at Chizuru, who was standing to the side of the desk.

Chizuru stood very straight. Her hands hung down in front of her, her fingertips together, her gaze fixed on Fujita's collar.

"Position: Personal maid (小姐附き)." Satsuki put down her pen.

Fujita's expression remained unchanged.

"She will handle security outside the area and liaison work with Kyoto," Satsuki said. "You'll coordinate with her on the specific duty rosters and movement arrangements."

"Understood." Fujita bowed.

He paused at the door before leaving the study.

"Ms. Matsumuro's room, should it be moved from the guest room in the east wing to...?"

"Move her to the small room next to mine," Satsuki said. "Fujita, give her a key."

"Yes."

The door closed.

There were two people left in the study.

Chizuru stood still.

Her right hand tucked slightly to her side, then relaxed again. The hilt of the sword she carried beneath the folds of her clothing pressed against her lower back.

Satsuki didn't look at her. She had already picked up her pen again and was writing new words on the sticky note.

He wrote for a few seconds, then suddenly stopped.

"Oh, right." Without looking up, she said, "When you were eating in the cafeteria this morning, you placed your chopsticks in the Kyoto style first, and then you changed the direction."

Chizuru's breath caught in her throat for a moment.

"No need to change it." Satsuki turned a page. "There are no Tokyo rules here."

She continued writing.

"Here, I am the rule."

Chizuru stood in the study, listening to the scratching sound of the pen tip falling on the paper.

Outside the window, the silver osmanthus tree in the courtyard stood motionless in the sunlight.

The last few clusters of stamens that remained yesterday evening have all fallen today. The tree trunk is bare, with only branches remaining.

But the flavor is still there.

You can smell it when you get closer.