“Canceled. The automobile park plan is back to being a blank slate.”
“But…how could that be?”
I wanted to believe that Kozuka was telling a bad joke. But I didn’t sense that possibility in his expression. I felt like my blood was coursing backwards through my veins and like my whole body temperature had risen by several degrees.
“I can’t believe it either,” Kozuka shook his head. “That it was canceled after making it this far.”
“What happened? Please explain the situation to me.”
“I’m going to ask about the details tonight—we’ve got a meeting then. Even so, they might just give us a formal notice.”
“Is it just going to be completely scrapped? Or do they mean that the chances of implementing it are low?”
“The chances of it are zero. The concept of the automobile park’s been rejected.”
I balled my right hand into a fist and struck the palm of my left. “Why, after getting this far…”
“The supervisor was also confused.”
“Of course. Considering how much time was used up for this project…”
“The person also said they would guarantee all the funds we’ve used until now.”
“I wouldn’t think it’d be a matter of money though.”
“Well, that may be the case.” Kozuka scratched the side of his nose.
I stuck both my hands into my pockets and paced in front of the desk. “Nissei Automobile was planning to announce a new car and wanted to launch an extensive campaign. While they were at it, they wanted to improve the image of domestic cars. They hoped for something like a car show, but not just a plain exhibit. To that end, they could use our help. Isn’t that what they said?”
“Of course it is.”
“Instead of contacting a major firm, they asked a mid-sized company like ours because, putting aside the budget, they hoped for a novel idea, right?”
“It was exactly that.”
“But then when the current plan was settled, and all that we needed was the go sign, they got cold feet, is that what you’re saying? The world-renowned Nissei.”
“Well, don’t get mad like that. I know it’s one of the largest jobs we’ve ever had and that you were fired up. But the client was the one who ran away so there’s nothing we can do. It won’t be the last time.”
“I can’t stand having these things happen, even from time to time.”
“The one who’s most annoyed about this is me. I have to redo our business plan all over again. Nissei says that it’s preparing to turn over another job, but we can’t expect much from them.”
“They’re just going to ask us to make another commercial with an idol anyway. May I also come with you to tonight’s meeting?”
“I’d rather you didn’t.” Kozuka stuck out his right palm. “If you go, you might fight with the other side. If we quietly suck it up, we’ll draw some favor.”
That merchant-like thinking was very Kozuka. He wasn’t a creator, but a manager, I recognized anew. After taking a long breath, I asked him, “Is the project team dissolved?”
“That’s what’ll end up happening. Tonight, once I hear about the situation I’ll email you, so based on that, write a directive to the members.”
“There will undoubtedly be others who’ll be even more upset.”
“Probably.” Kozuka shrugged his shoulders.
—
I stayed at the office until late in the afternoon that day, but in the end I wasn’t getting much work done. Why? The sentiment kept bubbling up in my chest. I left early and headed towards my usual sports gym.
I rode on the cycles for nearly forty minutes and sweated a ton, but felt far from exhilarated. Feeling desperate, I went to train on the machines, but my body just felt sluggish. After completing three quarters of my normal regimen, I took a shower.
My cellphone went off just as I left the gym. I had some recollection of the number on the display, but I couldn’t remember exactly from where.
“Sakuma? It’s me, Kozuka.”
“Yes, president. Did you finish your talk with Nissei?”
“It’s over. And so I have something I want to talk to you a bit about. I’m in Roppongi right now, could you come out here?”
“Yes, I can. Where’s the place?”
“It’s ‘Sabine.’ You know it, right?”
“I do. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
After I hung up, a taxi came by with perfect timing. I raised my hand.
Sabine was a place a certain health food company managed for tax reasons. I’d been taken there by Kozuka a few times. It was excessively spacious and flashy and had a lot of hostesses. The interior, which was made up like a decorated cake, was the kind of affair that made you fed up just looking at it. I always thought that if only they would leave it to me I could make a place far more refined with half the money.
I got out of the taxi and got into the elevator of a building nearby.
A tall blonde and a man clad in black stood near the entrance. The male staffer extended an excessively polite greeting and the blond welcomed me in halting Japanese.
“President Kozuka is here, right?”
“Yes, he is present tonight.”
The establishment split to the right and left at the entrance. If you went left, that was where the hall was, and to the right were the counter seats. I was guided to the right, but Kozuka wasn’t waiting at the counter. In the back, there was a private room, a VIP space for special guests. But it wasn’t like Kozuka spent that much here. It was just that he could make some requests through a Dietmember connection. Even now, Kozuka was the brains for that politician’s image strategy.
In the private room, Kozuka was accompanied by two hostesses and drinking a Hennessy on the rocks. When he saw my face, he raised his hand slightly.
“Sorry for calling you out here.”
“No, it was already on my mind.”
Kozuka nodded as though to say, Of course.
The hostess asked how I wanted my drink, so I answered, Straight. The VIP room also had a dedicated counter. The hostess went to get a brandy glass from there. She filled it with Hennessy, but I didn’t feel like tasting it yet.
“Sorry, but we have some business just for the two of us,” Kozuka said, at which the two hostesses left with forced smiles.
“So then?” I tried asking.
“Right, I got the gist of the situation. It seems the cancelation was decided at the board meeting the other day.”
“I understood that. I want to know the reason.”
“The reason”—Kozuka chinked the ice together in his glass—“is that they can’t expect effects commensurate to the large scale. In a nutshell, that’s what it comes down to.”
“Can’t expect? Whose call was it? Didn’t we temporarily have the green light because they judged it would be effective?”
“You won’t be convinced as long as I talk around the bush, so I’ll be straight with you. The one who protested the automobile park was Mr. Katsuragi, the newly appointed executive vice president.”
“When you say Katsuragi, you mean the chairman’s son?”
“Mr. Katsutoshi Katsuragi. Apparently he proposed rethinking everything from the beginning.”
“So the plan we worked on for weeks disappeared on some rich kid’s whim?”
“That man isn’t just a rich kid. After frontline stints in their sales and promotions divisions, he beefed up on marketing techniques at their American branch. He might have been appointed as the EVP before he even turned fifty because he’s the chairman’s son, but he has no reputation at all for being subpar.”
“Mr. Kozuka, did you meet him tonight?”
“I did. He had the gaze of a raptor. And he didn’t laugh even once.” Maybe it was because Kozuka felt incredibly overwhelmed, but he gulped down the brandy in his glass in one go.