Reborn in Tokyo: From Heiress to Global Tycoon

At this moment, the lights in the VIP room dimmed even further.

The staff on both sides of the stage quickly retreated into the shadows, and the audience members who had been walking in the aisles returned to their seats. The sounds in the stadium gradually converged on the same spot, and tens of thousands of eyes simultaneously fell on the center of the still unlit stage.

Izumi Sakai emerged from the side and behind.

She wore a white shirt and dark trousers, her hair falling naturally over her shoulders, with almost no ostentatious adornments befitting a large public performance. Compared to the lighting rigs and the entire stands, her figure even appeared somewhat slender.

Quanshui walked up to the microphone and bowed to the surroundings.

"Good evening."

She paused, as if to confirm where her voice had traveled.

"I am Izumi Sakai."

Someone in the audience immediately called out her name. Several rows of people near the stage raised their hands at the same time. Quan Shui seemed to be interrupted by the sudden response and smiled to herself.

"Thank you all for coming today."

Quan Shui looked up at the outfield stands in the distance, as if suddenly realizing just how big the stadium was, and paused for a moment without being able to continue the sentence.

Yoshiaki Tsutsumi waited a while before turning his head away.

"Is this your main character tonight?"

Satsuki responded softly, her gaze still fixed on the stage.

"It seems like she forgot her lines."

"I guess so."

Satsuki was not surprised by this, and even smiled slightly.

"She's never been good at saying these things on stage."

Yoshiaki Tsutsumi had expected her to at least say a few words in defense of her artist, but upon hearing her response, he gave her an extra look.

Satsuki merely raised her chin towards the stage.

"I can't sing anymore."

The words had barely left his mouth when the band began the intro.

Quanshui glanced back at the drummer, her previously stiff shoulders relaxing. After the first line of lyrics, the unfinished opening remarks were quickly left behind by the audience.

As the first chorus reached its end, people in the rows closest to the stage had already joined in. When the melody repeated itself, scattered voices also rose from the field seats and the third base side stands. Although every word was indistinct through the glass, it was clear that they were singing along very fluently.

Yoshiaki Tsutsumi stopped resting his fingers on the armrest.

"This doesn't sound like the first time I've heard it."

"That wasn't originally the case."

Satsuki looked at the stage, her tone casual.

"She has recorded more than 400 karaoke songs over the years. Among the people sitting here tonight, there will definitely be some who have heard her songs before the records."

Yoshiaki Tsutsumi looked again at the audience who were gradually joining the chorus.

They might not have known the names of the people in the recording studio at the time, nor could they remember which song they had heard. But when the familiar voices appeared again, their memories would still help them recognize them.

"Should we make people remember the voice first, and then give them the name...?"

"It's as if I arranged this all in advance."

Satsuki denied it outright, but a slight smile lingered on her lips.

After the second song ended, Quanshui walked back to the microphone.

She thanked the students who had warmed up the crowd, and then mentioned that when she first came to Seibu Stadium, she only watched the game from the stands and never imagined that one day she would stand in the middle of the field.

Just then, someone in the front row shouted something towards the stage. The VIPs couldn't hear clearly from the distance, but the surrounding audience quickly laughed, followed by applause.

The spring water paused, then lowered its head to avoid the light in front of it.

"Thanks."

She replied with just two words and then signaled for the band to continue.

Looking at the applause that had not yet stopped, Yoshiaki Tsutsumi suddenly laughed.

"That saves trouble."

"Save what?"

"If she can't continue, the audience will take over the situation for her."

Satsuki did not refute.

Quanshui still wasn't good at talking too much between songs, but the audience clearly didn't mind. As soon as the music started again, that brief pause quickly became her own rhythm.

The door to the VIP room was then pushed open from the outside.

Shimada walked up to Yoshiaki Tsutsumi with a newly compiled report in his hand, pressing the paper down to avoid blocking their view.

"The wait time at the women's restroom on the third base side has exceeded twenty minutes, and both souvenirs sold out before the show started. After recalculating, the railway authorities believe that the originally scheduled number of trains leaving the show may be insufficient."

Yoshiaki Tsutsumi glanced at the numbers on the paper and then pushed the report in front of Satsuki.

"You brought them here, but it seems you haven't figured out what to do with them after they come in."

Tonight's audience was still predominantly young men, but the number of women was far higher than at a typical baseball game. The stadium's original layout of restrooms and counters, designed for game attendance, quickly revealed its inconsistencies during the concert.

After reading the names of the sold-out items, Satsuki turned around and waved to Chizuru.

"Let's set up a registration table at the exit first. Sold-out items can be ordered by mail; viewers can register with their ticket stubs, and we'll cover the shipping costs."

She glanced again at the beverage counter inventory on the report.

"There's still stock in the outer warehouse, have them send another batch in. Also, direct the people in line outwards, so they don't block the entrance to the stands."

After making a note of it, Chizuru quickly left the VIP room with the staff.

"The merchandise goes to Saionji, the restrooms go to Seibu, how about that?"

Yoshiaki Tsutsumi tapped the report with his finger.

"You've got it all figured out."

That's why we need to solve it together.

Satsuki sat up straight and casually flipped to the last page of the report.

The number of people entering Seibu Stadium Station today has exceeded that of a regular match day, and the number of bento boxes, drinks, and small goods sold at stations along the line has also increased. The venue rental fee is only the first bit of money to be pocketed; the performance has been making money for both companies since the moment the audience boards the train.

"Will a sixteenth class be added after the show?"

Satsuki glanced at the schedule and then handed the report back to Tsutsumi Yoshiaki.

"That shouldn't be enough."

Yoshiaki Tsutsumi remained silent, waiting for her to continue.

"In baseball games, some players always leave early in the second half."

Satsuki gestured towards the still-filled stands below.

"But tonight is different. Not many people will want to leave before the encore (meaning 'one more song') ends. We also have to process the registration of out-of-stock items at the exit, so the crowd will be delayed even later than originally planned."

Yoshiaki Tsutsumi nodded and closed the report.

"Notify the railway authorities."

He will submit the report back to Shimada.

"We need to re-estimate the passenger flow after the event and prepare additional train services as early as possible. Tonight, we can't let first-time visitors be left with the impression of waiting for a train."

Shimada nodded.

"In addition, the signage outside the station should not be removed too early."

Yoshiaki Tsutsumi looked out the glass at the exit where the lights were gradually coming on.

"There must be people there until the last group of audience members leave."

Shimada acknowledged and left.

The stadium lights swept across the stands in sync with the changing music, illuminating the scattered wisps of clouds above.

Yoshiaki Tsutsumi looked up for a while.

It won't rain tonight.

"No problem tonight, of course."

Satsuki's answer, however, did not convey much relief.

"A large-scale performance needs to have its schedule confirmed six months or even a year in advance. SA can't rely on the weather forecast every time to decide whether a show can start."

Yoshiaki Tsutsumi's gaze slowly moved along the top of the infield stands.

The stadium already has railroad tracks, land, and seating for tens of thousands. Yet, it remains largely empty outside of matches. Tonight's attendance proves that those empty days can generate revenue, provided someone can bring in spectators.

"What if we added a roof to it?"

"It's so strange," Yoshiaki Tsutsumi suddenly said.

Satsuki then turned her head.

Yoshiaki Tsutsumi's expression didn't seem like he was making a spur-of-the-moment joke. He had begun to re-examine the stadium he had known for so many years.

"First, let the engineering department calculate the load-bearing capacity, grass coverage, ventilation, and fire protection."

Satsuki raised her hand and roughly measured the position of the stage and the stands from outside the glass.

"We also need to leave room for large equipment to enter. If the roof is completed but the stage can't be brought in, we can only continue watching baseball."

"Seibu is in charge of the plan."

Yoshiaki Tsutsumi placed the program schedule on top of that report.

"SA gave me my venue requirements for the next three years. They wrote them out separately for live performances, TV recordings, and Campus Voice, telling me how many seats and how much preparation time I needed for each."

"Has Uncle Ti already arranged work for me?"

"You just said you'd solve it together."

Satsuki thought for a moment and reluctantly nodded.

"Three weeks."

"It's too short."

"Then we'll just have to ask Mr. Shimada to sleep a few less nights."

Just then, Shimada, who had just returned by pushing open the door, heard the last half of the sentence and paused slightly in his steps.

Yoshiaki Tsutsumi glanced at him and finally laughed.

"Then three weeks it will be."

As the concert neared its end, Quanshui stopped glancing frequently at the stage markers. After the first exit, calls for an encore quickly rose from the center of the field, then converged along the stands, until even the glass of the VIP lounge vibrated slightly.

The spring water has returned to the stage.

She changed into a simple white top, her hair already damp with sweat. After standing in front of the microphone, she first bowed deeply to the surroundings.

"The last song."

She looked up at the outfield stands, which had already blended into the night.

"Good-bye My Loneliness."

As soon as the intro started, audience members began clapping along.

Halfway through the first verse, people near the stage started singing along. As the melody entered the chorus, the singing spread from the grass seats to the infield and outfield, quickly drowning out the accompaniment coming from the loudspeakers.

Satsuki recalled the chant tapes that Izumi had recorded in the past.

Back then, she sang song after song for strangers through the glass of the recording studio, but her name never appeared on the tapes. Now, those voices scattered in the karaoke rooms have finally returned to her.

The Japanese are more nostalgic than she imagined, especially when it comes to memories of that wonderful era.

As the final chorus began, Quanshui slowly lowered the microphone.

Tens of thousands of audience members sang the next line for her.

She stood in the center of the stage, seemingly forgetting for a moment what she was supposed to do next. Only when the chorus was almost over did she smile and raise the microphone again, singing the last verse with the entire stadium.

Yoshiaki Tsutsumi waited until the song ended before turning around.

"Shimada".

Shimada stepped forward.

"Call the people from the stadium, railway, and engineering departments over tomorrow. Also, find all the previous renovation data and re-evaluate the roof plan."

After giving his instructions, he looked at Satsuki.

"I need to see SA's demand in three weeks."

"Let me see how Seibu plans to build it."

The stage lights went out one by one.

The announcement for the end of the event quickly came on, and tens of thousands of spectators moved along the passageways towards the Seibu Stadium train station. The stadium gradually darkened, but the lights on the platforms and surrounding shops remained on.

As the first extra tram departed, some passengers were still humming the chorus from earlier.

Satsuki stood in front of the glass, watching as the seats in the center of the meadow gradually emptied out.

The next time she and Yoshiaki Tsutsumi come here, it will probably be much quieter.

On that day, all they would want to see was where the roof would fall from.