The memory struck unexpectedly.
He closed his eyes.
Then whispered.
"I should've come back sooner."
His daughter heard him.
But she didn't answer.
Some realizations didn't need immediate reassurance.
The growers met the chairman in a modest community building.
Several were elderly.
Others were young families who'd inherited small tea farms and were trying to keep them financially viable.
They weren't opposed to every form of development.
Some wanted improved roads.
Others needed better irrigation infrastructure.
Several hoped responsible tourism might create additional income.
But they were concerned about the proposed transfer of land and water-management rights.
One older farmer stood and described the natural spring that supplied part of the village.
During dry seasons, the flow became limited.
Families carefully managed their water use.
And several small agricultural channels depended on arrangements established long before Takamura Heritage acquired neighboring land.
The proposed development required changes to those arrangements.
The company had presented them as technical.
But the farmers wanted to understand how their rights and access would be protected.
The chairman listened.
For once, he didn't interrupt.
A younger grower explained that some families felt pressured by the company's representatives.
They were told the project was already effectively decided.
They worried that refusing to sign would damage their relationship with the major buyer of their tea.
The chairman looked toward his daughter.
She remained quiet.
The residents continued.
An elderly woman spoke about Mrs. Morita.
She described the old tea master as stubborn, generous, and fiercely protective of the hillside.
For years, Mrs. Morita had written letters asking the company to consider the people living below the proposed development area.
Several letters received formal responses.
Others were acknowledged without meaningful discussion.
The chairman stared at the table.
He remembered seeing her name.
He remembered dismissing some of her concerns as opposition to change.
Now he was sitting among the people whose lives those letters described.
And he realized how little he actually knew about the land his company was preparing to develop.
The meeting lasted almost four hours.
The chairman made no promises that every request could be granted.
He didn't claim that all proposed improvements were automatically harmful.
He asked for the independent technical findings.
Requested a review of the legal agreements.
And committed to suspending any binding action on the disputed land arrangements until the relevant questions were properly examined.
The farmers listened cautiously.
They'd heard promises before.
One older man asked whether the chairman would still honor that commitment after returning to New York.
For a moment, the room became quiet.
The billionaire looked toward him.
Then answered.
"Judge me by the documents and decisions that follow, not by what I say today."
His daughter looked surprised.