Chapter 51 : Searching For Kiyoshi Matsumoto
Midori, a modern university student who transmigrated into a novel that took place in the Meiji Era, had seen her notions of grandeur tossed and turned with each revelation.
The once "lavish" Koishikawa house held only echoes of luxury now, dwarfed by the Takigawa's opulence and the Kinoshita's quiet elegance.
And now, staring up at the sheer scale of the Matsumoto residence, a tremor of awe shook her. Were the others merely wealthy, or was she on the precipice of wealth so vast, so unimaginable, that it redefined the very meaning of luxury?
While Shuugo was still working on modernizing their family house bit by bit, mainly by replacing the furniture, the Matsumoto family already built an entire mansion in Western architectural style.
Against Midori's expectations, her car took her and Arata past the grand mansion, heading directly to the banquet venue.
The party took place in a separate building from the Matsumoto family's residence. Tonight, it practically lit up from a thousand lights.
Several guests were found loitering outside with glasses of wine in their hands, talking in a low voice to each other.
Arata climbed out of the car and went around to open the door for Midori.
"We are late," he remarked with a touch of regret. Most of the guests had arrived.
It seemed that while they arrived early for the party, it was still considered late if they wanted to single out Kiyoshi Matsumoto in his own home.
Beyond the double doors, mahogany titans polished to a mirror shine, was a scene that stole the very breath from Midori's lungs. Chandeliers, constellations forged from imported crystal, cascaded from vaulted ceilings, their prisms splintering light into a million fireflies.
Midori had to blink several times to get used to the light intensity.
Laughter, a foreign concerto of strings and woodwinds, thrummed in the air, bouncing off mirrored walls like whispered secrets.
The hall pulsed with festive energy, brought about by the guests who came to enjoy the party.
The Western guests hailed from various backgrounds, each of them serving a particular function in the Meiji Era.
There were ambassadors from foreign countries, merchants who conducted business and trade with their Japanese counterparts, some great teachers who were there to impart their vast knowledge, and even some missionaries who wished to spread Christianity.
They brought numerous ladies with them, whose gowns of cerulean satin and emerald velvet swirled like waltzing flames, their wearers adorned with jewels that winked like constellations against their pale skin.
"Midori-chan, let's split up," Arata suggested. "I will take a look at the garden outside. You will stay here and try to find Kiyoshi Matsumoto-san."
"Alright, Arata-Niichan," Midori replied with a nod.
As Midori scanned the hall for Kiyoshi Matsumoto, her gaze was drawn to a massive ebony table. It was groaning under a feast fit for a royal family.
The left side was dominated by a tower made of crystal goblets. Inside were liquids the color of amber and ruby, their aroma a whisper of forbidden pleasures.
Western delicacies such as roast goose and grilled sausages were featured at the center, accompanied by mashed potato, grilled corn on the cobs, and vegetables sauteed with butter and fragrant spices.
The right side was full of Christmas treats perched on delicate china. Various kinds of pies and pastries were arranged artistically to form miniature towers of foreign flavors, offering glimpses of a culinary world beyond typical Japanese dessert selection.
Every detail, from the embroidered napkins that covered the buffet table down to the polished silver cutlery, sang of wealth beyond imagining, a stark contrast to the world Midori was used to.
Midori shook her head fervently.
It was not the time to be swayed by luxury. The faster she found Kiyoshi, the better.
Since Kiyoshi was heir to the Matsumoto family, he should be surrounded by important figures, each vying for his attention.
Midori turned her head left and right, looking for a specific person who was surrounded by a group of people, preferably foreigners.
To her greatest dismay, there were more than one such group. All she could do was crane her neck and take a good look at each group before she moved on to the next.
As fate would have it, she did find one prominent figure. Or better said, that prominent figure found her.
"My, my, my, look who is here."
"..."
Dressed in an ostentatious kimono with silver thread sewn into the silk fabric to create a winter-themed pattern and matching hair accessories, Akiko Yamagata looked Midori up and down with eyes full of contempt.
She did not bother to hide her sneer when she was done judging Midori for her appearance.
"This party is by invitation only, Midori-san," she said with a face full of smiles but eyes full of ice cubes.
"Kindly leave this place."
Midori swallowed hard, but she passed the haughty female lead a polite smile nonetheless.
"Fortunately, I have an invitation."
Akiko stared at her.
"Interesting. Take it out and show me."
She extended a hand full of perfectly manicured fingers at Midori.
"I don't have it," Midori said. "My escort has it."
Akiko scoffed and rolled with her eyes.
"Can you not spout a more believable lie? Such a waste of time. Men!"
As expected of the female lead, she always had bodyguards at her disposal.
"Throw this... woman out of this hall!"
The bodyguards had just taken a menacing step toward Midori when a cold, authoritative voice resounded behind Midori.
"While I appreciate your dedication to keeping my house free of uninvited guests, Akiko-san, I wish you would consult me first before throwing anyone out of my party."