dtnovels Chapter 377 The Last New Year
Chapter 377 The Last New Year
Satsuki carried a teacup to the window, and Shuichi followed with a cup in his hand.
The Leningrad outside the window looked more like an imperial city in the night than during the day.
The streetlights cast golden outlines on the Baroque buildings, and a faint band of light stretched across the night sky from the direction of the Neva River—it was hard to tell if it was fireworks or a searchlight. Occasionally, a faint cheer would drift from afar, carried on the wind, intermittent and broken.
"Is someone in Tokyo having trouble sleeping?" Shuichi asked, holding his cup and looking at the light and shadow outside the window.
Satsuki took a sip of tea. "Gondo has probably finally realized that Seibu can't give him a way out."
"Should we handle this in advance?"
"No need. The fact that he's still using the Saionji family's channels to deliver letters means he's still inside the family. For now, those inside are more useful than those outside."
"If we take action against him now, he might do something foolish when he's cornered."
Xiu nodded slightly and didn't ask any further questions.
Another burst of fireworks sounded outside the window, this time closer. Red and gold sparks burst open under the low clouds, only to be quickly scattered by the wind.
"This city..." Shuichi looked at the fireworks, "still looks like the capital of an empire."
Satsuki's gaze shifted from the fireworks to the steaming cup of black tea on the windowsill.
"This is the last New Year in the Soviet Union."
Xiu Yi was stunned and turned his head to look at her.
"how long?"
"Less than a year."
Shuichi was silent for a moment. He silently drank half of the tea in his cup and placed it on the windowsill.
"You're very sure."
"It's written in the history textbook," Satsuki smiled softly.
Of course, she couldn't say this to a third person. In this living room with the curtains drawn, facing her father, she would occasionally loosen that tight shell a little.
Shuichi didn't press for the source of the "history textbook." He was already used to his daughter occasionally making judgments that were beyond her age and experience, and he had long since given up trying to explain these judgments with common sense.
All he needed to know was that if Satsuki said less than a year, then it meant less than a year.
"The way you talk about the Soviet Union sounds like you're looking at an old house that's about to be auctioned off."
"Pretty much." Satsuki's gaze fell out the window. "It's just that this old house is too big. It has housed the army, factories, academies, oil fields, mines, ports, and a whole credit system painted in red. Once its nameplate is taken down, everyone will rush in to grab the most conspicuous things."
"Oil fields and mines?"
"And bank accounts, fleets, warehouses, railways, aluminum ingots, titanium alloys, scientists in research institutes, and those who are eager to exchange rubles for dollars."
Xiu turned his head.
"So you need ports and cold chain logistics."
"We also need warehousing, medical care, settlement, and operating rules that local governments are willing to accept," Satsuki said. "Factory can be bought, mine can be bought, and scientists can be hired, but without doors, without scales, without a road to get goods from chaos to hard currency, even the best assets can only pile up and mold."
Xiu Yi was silent for a moment, then smiled and said, "I thought at least tonight I wouldn't have to listen to the balance sheet."
Satsuki smiled too.
"This is much more interesting than the Kohaku Uta Gassen. Tokyo has a New Year's celebration every year, but this is the last time the Red Empire will celebrate New Year's Eve.
Shuichi looked at her profile.
She was still very young; standing by the window, her figure hadn't quite shed the slenderness of a young girl. Yet, the only thing in her eyes that resembled a young girl's was the desire to possess.
The only difference is that what a girl usually wants is a doll, but what she wants is to tear a piece of flesh from the two extremes of the world today.
Xiu Yi didn't think there was anything wrong with this.
The Saionji family has not gotten to where it is today through gentleness and nostalgia.
When an era comes to an end, there will always be people crying, singing, waving flags, stuffing old badges into drawers, and people calculating transportation costs, exchange rates, storage fees, and the order of takeover. My daughter simply acknowledged this earlier than anyone else.
Xiu Yi shook his head with a faint smile, his gaze returning to the window.
The fireworks are going on at an increasingly higher frequency, which means that midnight is approaching.
……
The picture on the TV changed.
The variety show stopped, replaced by a solemn studio with red flags and pine branch decorations in the background. A man sat at a table, his face serious, preparing to read something.
"Ah, it's starting, it's starting!" Amy sprang up from the sofa. "New Year's greetings!"
She ran to the TV and squatted down, bringing her face very close.
Chizuru emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray with several glasses and a bottle of Soviet-made champagne. The label on the bottle was crudely printed, and the gold lettering was somewhat faded.
"This was left by Kozlov," Chizuru said, placing the tray on the coffee table. "He said it was a New Year's gift."
Amy immediately leaned closer. "Oh—Soviet champagne!"
She reached for the bottle, but Chizuru pressed down on the bottle opening first.
"Let's wait for Miss to explain."
"Hmm." Amy withdrew her hand, but her eyes remained fixed on the bottle.
Fujita walked over from the security room and stood in the living room doorway. He wasn't wearing a suit jacket today, just a shirt and vest, and looked a little more relaxed than usual.
Satsuki turned around from the window and looked at everyone present.
"Let's open it."
Chizuru unscrewed the bottle cap. As bubbles rushed out, Amy let out a small cheer.
The champagne was poured into the glass; its color was lighter than Satsuki had expected, and the foam wasn't very fine. Under the light, it appeared as a somewhat cloudy golden color.
Amy picked up a glass, smelled it, and frowned.
"The taste is so weird..."
She still took a sip. Then her whole face scrunched up.
"It's so sour, and it has a flavor I can't quite describe."
"Soviet champagne has a higher sugar content than French champagne, but it's also more acidic," Satsuki said. "You don't have to drink it if you don't like it."
"Me! It's rare!" Amy forced down another gulp, her brows still furrowed. "Well, how should I put it, it's not quite the same as the champagne we usually drink..."
Chizuru held her cup, took a small sip, and her expression remained unchanged.
"It's drinkable," she commented.
"Chizuru-nee, has your sense of taste gone bad...?"
Satsuki took her cup from Chizuru and took a small sip.
Yeah, it really doesn't taste good.
It's not the same kind of champagne she's ever had in Tokyo or New York.
But within this rough, sweet and sour flavor lies a peculiar sense of reality—like the city itself, unrefined and unpretentious, yet still bubbling with life.
"Fujita." Satsuki looked towards the doorway.
Fujita gave a slight bow. "Young Miss."
"Come over and have a drink. You don't have to be on edge all night."
Fujita hesitated for half a second. In his understanding, drinking alcohol while on duty was not allowed.
However, within his own understanding, Satsuki's words were the rules.
He walked over, picked up the last cup from the tray, and Chizuru poured him a little less than half a cup.
A solemn voice came from the television, reading something in Russian. Satsuki understood—it was the end of the New Year's address, wishing the people of all nations of the Soviet Union unity, progress, and happiness in the new year.
The countdown has begun.
Ten, nine, eight.
Amy counted along, in Japanese. 「じゅう、きゅう、はち——」
7, 6, 5.
The sound of fireworks grew louder in the distance. The sky above Leningrad was illuminated by clusters of firelight—red, green, and gold—as if someone had scattered a handful of shattered gems into the night sky.
4.3.2.
Shuichi raised his glass.
One.
The television presenter raised his voice, and the distant chimes followed. Several fireworks rose into the sky outside the villa, one exploding in mid-air, its light briefly illuminating the snow, the shadows of the trees, and the gray-green outlines of the buildings in the distance.
The Soviet Union entered 1991.
The countdown has officially begun.
"Happy New Year." Satsuki raised her glass.
"Happy New Year." Shuichi clinked glasses with her.
"Happy New Year!" Amy raised her glass the highest, even though she had already drunk almost nothing out of it.
Chizuru nodded slightly without making a sound, but simply raised the cup slightly forward.
Fujita stood ramrod straight, holding the cup, as if participating in some kind of ceremony. He opened his mouth.
"...Happy New Year. Wishing Miss and Master good health."
Amy's voice was so stiff that she almost spat out what she had just drunk.
"Mr. Fujita, have you never offered your blessings outside of work settings?"
"Shut up and drink yours." Fujita's ears turned slightly red.
Satsuki smiled.
Chizuru distributed the snacks she brought to the small plates in front of everyone. Toraya's yokan was sliced thinly and placed on the same table as Soviet pickled cucumbers and coarse bread, which looked quite absurd.
The congratulatory message on television ended, and the camera cut to the clock tower in Moscow's Red Square.
The bell rang.
At the same moment, a burst of intense fireworks erupted from afar outside the window, more powerful than ever before.
Several streaks of light exploded across the Leningrad night sky—red, green, and gold—some resembling professional fireworks, others likely just small firecrackers bought by locals. The ice on the Neva River reflected fragmented patches of light.
Further away, someone was shouting. The voice was muffled, mixed with the wind and the sound of firecrackers, making it impossible to tell whether it was cheering or something else.
191.
Amy pressed herself against the windowpane, her nose pushing the condensation on the glass into a circular, transparent area.
"So beautiful..." she whispered, "Although there are far fewer of them than in Tokyo."
The people of Leningrad were still cheering. In the distance, someone opened a window and shouted out, and the sound of an accordion drifted from a balcony. It was hard to tell what song was being played; the tune was cheerful but a little off-key.
No one knows what awaits them.
Satsuki put down her cup and looked out the window at the flickering lights.
"Happy New Year," she said again.
This time, he was speaking out the window.
This was said to those who had waited in long lines and rushed home carrying cedar trees and cheap champagne. It was also said to those who didn't know what their factories would become next year, or how much their savings would shrink.
Shuichi stood beside her, still holding the half-finished glass of champagne.
"And what about us?"
Satsuki withdrew her gaze and looked at Shuichi.
"Let's go back to Tokyo."
She drank the last drop of wine in her glass. The astringency of the Soviet champagne slid down her tongue, leaving only a faint, bubbly sensation.
"Meet Gondo first, then prepare to collect the money."
Xiu looked at her, and the smile line at the corner of his mouth reappeared.
"By this time next year," Satsuki placed the empty cup on the windowsill, "this country should be renamed."
The accordion was still playing in the distance. The tune had changed, and this time it was played slower, as if the player had drunk too much.
The last New Year has come to an end.