PART III
"Opposed!"
Tsukasa rose and slammed his fist down on the desk. The conference room turned to face him.
"I won't hear a word of this. It makes no sense!" Tsukasa scowled, oblivious to the gasps of the assembled shareholders and bigwigs of various sorts. Across the table, his mother smiled cattily, twirling a pen absently between the tips of two red-painted fingernails. "Oh, and why do you say that, Tsukasa?" she said. "Don't you see the necessity for the downsizing in that department?"
"It makes no sense," Tsukasa repeated, firm again, but no longer shouting. "Of course I understand the financial situation makes it necessary in that case, but didn't we just have a meeting a few days ago about the productivity problem in marketing?"
Kaede's smile didn't disappear, but it did fade somewhat. "What exactly are you saying?"
"What I'm saying is, why don't we move some of our people over there?"
This created no little stir in the boardroom. But ignoring the sudden murmurs, Kaede just continued to smirk. "But they're number crunchers, Tsukasa-san. Those people have no skills in marketing."
Tsukasa sat back down and started looking through the sheaf of papers piled at his seat. "I'm positive there was... yes... this guy named Harrison. Wasn't he in accounting and switched over to marketing? What if we were to have him guide them in? A sort of training course? We could transition them over a period of time. If productivity picks up, we'll more than make up our losses. What do you say, Mother?"
A period of silence passed, and when Kaede smiled again, Tsukasa knew he'd won.
Handshakes and polite bows, and promises to meet again to work on the restructuring plan. Kaede lagged behind, and as Tsukasa smiled and bowed to the last of the stragglers, she walked slowly up to him and put her hand on his shoulder.
"You did marvelously today," she said in an approving tone.
"Thank you, Mother," he answered politely, the grin in his heart slowly spreading to his face.
"You've exceeded my expectations," she said smoothly, gathering up her files into a sleek leather briefcase. "To be honest I never expected you to learn so quickly. I'm very pleased."
"It's fun," he said, and then clapped a hand over his mouth. "I'm sorry, Mother... can I..."
"Go ahead." Kaede gave her son a tight-lipped smile.
"I don't know why, but it's fun," Tsukasa said. "I could never remember kanji, but I can remember how everything works here. It feels right. It feels like this is what I ought to be doing."
"Of course," she said as she glided out the door. "It is. You're a Doumyouji."
"Mister Doumyouji?"
The woman knew enough Japanese to communicate with him - she wouldn't work as a secretary for upper-level management if she didn't. But everyone was Mister and Missus to her. It was her quirk, and she'd never give it up for the world.
"Ah, Linda," Tsukasa turned. "You're still here?"
"Just finishing typing the minutes of the meeting," she said briskly. "You too, Mister Doumyouji."
"I'm on my way out," he said. "See you tomorrow."
"Um, Mister Doumyouji?" she asked tentatively, and he stopped.
"I was wondering, Mister Doumyouji... you being so young and all..." she began timidly, but when she looked up his eyes were gentle and she felt courage. "Is this what you want to do? What's your real dream?"
"My dream?" His eyes turned round and boyish.
"I'm sorry, Mister Doumyouji!" she said, feeling squeamish all of a sudden.
But Tsukasa put his briefcase down on a table and leaned back against the cubicle wall. "My dream, huh..." he pondered.
"In my dream," he said, "I'll come to work in the morning and have people look at me like I'm someone important without me having to remind them. I'll do this all day. Things will make more sense to me than they do to other people. I'll make changes and do important things. And I'll feel at home here.
"And then..."
His eyes softened. Linda blinked.
"And then I'll come home to her," Tsukasa said.
"And she'll smile at me and I'll lift her up in my arms and swing her around, tell her what a triumph the day was.. and she'll laugh at me... and yell at me for tracking mud in the house... and we'll eat takeout sushi and talk about our friends... and she'll resist when I try to kiss her... and turn red... and her kisses will taste like sushi... and when I feel her hands touching the back of my neck I'll forget about the world..."
"Mister Doumyouji..." Linda whispered in awe.
He shook his head abruptly. "I'm sorry," he said. "Forget I said all that. I've got to go meet my mother. Please," he added earnestly, "don't tell her I said any of that. No matter what."
Linda barely had time to nod before he was gone.
Kaede was slightly surprised at her son's change in demeanor when he met her at the car to return home. Something had stirred him, deepened the joy in his eyes beyond that momentary delight of success. Nevertheless, he said nothing that she could interpret as concerned. In fact, he said nothing at all, simply stared facing forward as the New York city lights slid across his face one by one and the limo sped into the darkness.
"So, tell me, Tsukasa-san," she finally ventured. "How did it occur to you to make that structuring change today?"
"I didn't want to see all those people laid off," he said. "It's not fair to them." His eyes retained the cool, distant glimmer that she simply could not read.
And then he said the one thing that made her pulse quicken in sudden fright. Her eyes narrowed.
"If I'm going to be the president of the Doumyouji Corporation, I need to think about the common people," he said. "Somebody told me that."
The gloomy, drizzly skyline of New York seemed to hang like a weight over Tsukushi's shoulders. She had come here with such high hopes, with so much confidence. She was so sure of the terrain then. This was a battle like all the others, one about pride, about not backing down.
What she wanted was to be with him, and that had to be what he wanted too. Which meant the witch didn't have a leg to stand on.
It never once occurred to her that the witch could be doing something that might be good for him. She was sure he had to be tied up in the basement like a dog, suffering day in and day out as punishment for the horrible sin of dating her. After all, that had been the whole purpose of taking him to New York, right?
No. She'd been wrong. Apparently she'd been wrong about a lot of things.
She remembered how she'd felt when his mother had first entered the scene. Trapped and panicking, she'd told herself, "He only feels this way right now. It's a momentary thing. I'm sure his eyes will open soon." But they hadn't. For so long after that, he'd been just as consumed with her as he'd been for so long before. And slowly she'd come to realize that maybe... just maybe... she really was the thing he wanted most in life.
But now it occurred to her that he just hadn't found it until now. Perhaps she'd been right all along, and the awakening she'd anticipated had simply come a little later. After all, how many times had she misjudged him in the past? How many times had she underestimated his strength? He wasn't the sort of man who wasted away forever on something impossible.
And impossible was what this whole affair seemed to be turning out to be.
The oppresive fog of the city had burned her lungs with each breath she inhaled, and she hadn't wanted to spend another night under the roof of Thomas's den of depravity. So before long Tsukushi had found herself back at the airport. She certainly didn't have money to go back, but at least the airport was warm, open all night, and it wasn't directly in the city. She stared at the city skyline through the huge paneled windows of the terminal. Her reflection, superimposed over the rows of buildings, stared gloomily back at her. She heaved a long sigh and traced the shape of the Chrysler Building against the windowpane with one lazy finger.
"What on earth do I do now?" she sighed, her breath creating a white fuzzy spot over her reflection's mouth. She wiped it away slowly. Behind her, the constant shuffle of the busy airport rang in her ears... a jumble of languages along with the rustle of suitcases and the hurried beats of anxious feet... shouting children, crying babies, talking businessmen... words that turned into nonsense in the hollow of her ear, that almost seemed like a muffled, mysterious voice calling her name...
...no, wait.
Someone WAS calling her name.
Tsukushi wheeled, and her eyes widened as she fell back against the glass of the window. A figure was rapidly approaching her from one of the flight gates, waving a carry-on bag high in the air and nearly knocking over fellow passengers in the act. Her eyes darted to the sign above the gate: Flight 3580, now arriving from Narita International Airport.........
"Tsukushi!" Shigeru grinned.
"Opposed!"
Tsukasa rose and slammed his fist down on the desk. The conference room turned to face him.
"I won't hear a word of this. It makes no sense!" Tsukasa scowled, oblivious to the gasps of the assembled shareholders and bigwigs of various sorts. Across the table, his mother smiled cattily, twirling a pen absently between the tips of two red-painted fingernails. "Oh, and why do you say that, Tsukasa?" she said. "Don't you see the necessity for the downsizing in that department?"
"It makes no sense," Tsukasa repeated, firm again, but no longer shouting. "Of course I understand the financial situation makes it necessary in that case, but didn't we just have a meeting a few days ago about the productivity problem in marketing?"
Kaede's smile didn't disappear, but it did fade somewhat. "What exactly are you saying?"
"What I'm saying is, why don't we move some of our people over there?"
This created no little stir in the boardroom. But ignoring the sudden murmurs, Kaede just continued to smirk. "But they're number crunchers, Tsukasa-san. Those people have no skills in marketing."
Tsukasa sat back down and started looking through the sheaf of papers piled at his seat. "I'm positive there was... yes... this guy named Harrison. Wasn't he in accounting and switched over to marketing? What if we were to have him guide them in? A sort of training course? We could transition them over a period of time. If productivity picks up, we'll more than make up our losses. What do you say, Mother?"
A period of silence passed, and when Kaede smiled again, Tsukasa knew he'd won.
Handshakes and polite bows, and promises to meet again to work on the restructuring plan. Kaede lagged behind, and as Tsukasa smiled and bowed to the last of the stragglers, she walked slowly up to him and put her hand on his shoulder.
"You did marvelously today," she said in an approving tone.
"Thank you, Mother," he answered politely, the grin in his heart slowly spreading to his face.
"You've exceeded my expectations," she said smoothly, gathering up her files into a sleek leather briefcase. "To be honest I never expected you to learn so quickly. I'm very pleased."
"It's fun," he said, and then clapped a hand over his mouth. "I'm sorry, Mother... can I..."
"Go ahead." Kaede gave her son a tight-lipped smile.
"I don't know why, but it's fun," Tsukasa said. "I could never remember kanji, but I can remember how everything works here. It feels right. It feels like this is what I ought to be doing."
"Of course," she said as she glided out the door. "It is. You're a Doumyouji."
"Mister Doumyouji?"
The woman knew enough Japanese to communicate with him - she wouldn't work as a secretary for upper-level management if she didn't. But everyone was Mister and Missus to her. It was her quirk, and she'd never give it up for the world.
"Ah, Linda," Tsukasa turned. "You're still here?"
"Just finishing typing the minutes of the meeting," she said briskly. "You too, Mister Doumyouji."
"I'm on my way out," he said. "See you tomorrow."
"Um, Mister Doumyouji?" she asked tentatively, and he stopped.
"I was wondering, Mister Doumyouji... you being so young and all..." she began timidly, but when she looked up his eyes were gentle and she felt courage. "Is this what you want to do? What's your real dream?"
"My dream?" His eyes turned round and boyish.
"I'm sorry, Mister Doumyouji!" she said, feeling squeamish all of a sudden.
But Tsukasa put his briefcase down on a table and leaned back against the cubicle wall. "My dream, huh..." he pondered.
"In my dream," he said, "I'll come to work in the morning and have people look at me like I'm someone important without me having to remind them. I'll do this all day. Things will make more sense to me than they do to other people. I'll make changes and do important things. And I'll feel at home here.
"And then..."
His eyes softened. Linda blinked.
"And then I'll come home to her," Tsukasa said.
"And she'll smile at me and I'll lift her up in my arms and swing her around, tell her what a triumph the day was.. and she'll laugh at me... and yell at me for tracking mud in the house... and we'll eat takeout sushi and talk about our friends... and she'll resist when I try to kiss her... and turn red... and her kisses will taste like sushi... and when I feel her hands touching the back of my neck I'll forget about the world..."
"Mister Doumyouji..." Linda whispered in awe.
He shook his head abruptly. "I'm sorry," he said. "Forget I said all that. I've got to go meet my mother. Please," he added earnestly, "don't tell her I said any of that. No matter what."
Linda barely had time to nod before he was gone.
Kaede was slightly surprised at her son's change in demeanor when he met her at the car to return home. Something had stirred him, deepened the joy in his eyes beyond that momentary delight of success. Nevertheless, he said nothing that she could interpret as concerned. In fact, he said nothing at all, simply stared facing forward as the New York city lights slid across his face one by one and the limo sped into the darkness.
"So, tell me, Tsukasa-san," she finally ventured. "How did it occur to you to make that structuring change today?"
"I didn't want to see all those people laid off," he said. "It's not fair to them." His eyes retained the cool, distant glimmer that she simply could not read.
And then he said the one thing that made her pulse quicken in sudden fright. Her eyes narrowed.
"If I'm going to be the president of the Doumyouji Corporation, I need to think about the common people," he said. "Somebody told me that."
The gloomy, drizzly skyline of New York seemed to hang like a weight over Tsukushi's shoulders. She had come here with such high hopes, with so much confidence. She was so sure of the terrain then. This was a battle like all the others, one about pride, about not backing down.
What she wanted was to be with him, and that had to be what he wanted too. Which meant the witch didn't have a leg to stand on.
It never once occurred to her that the witch could be doing something that might be good for him. She was sure he had to be tied up in the basement like a dog, suffering day in and day out as punishment for the horrible sin of dating her. After all, that had been the whole purpose of taking him to New York, right?
No. She'd been wrong. Apparently she'd been wrong about a lot of things.
She remembered how she'd felt when his mother had first entered the scene. Trapped and panicking, she'd told herself, "He only feels this way right now. It's a momentary thing. I'm sure his eyes will open soon." But they hadn't. For so long after that, he'd been just as consumed with her as he'd been for so long before. And slowly she'd come to realize that maybe... just maybe... she really was the thing he wanted most in life.
But now it occurred to her that he just hadn't found it until now. Perhaps she'd been right all along, and the awakening she'd anticipated had simply come a little later. After all, how many times had she misjudged him in the past? How many times had she underestimated his strength? He wasn't the sort of man who wasted away forever on something impossible.
And impossible was what this whole affair seemed to be turning out to be.
The oppresive fog of the city had burned her lungs with each breath she inhaled, and she hadn't wanted to spend another night under the roof of Thomas's den of depravity. So before long Tsukushi had found herself back at the airport. She certainly didn't have money to go back, but at least the airport was warm, open all night, and it wasn't directly in the city. She stared at the city skyline through the huge paneled windows of the terminal. Her reflection, superimposed over the rows of buildings, stared gloomily back at her. She heaved a long sigh and traced the shape of the Chrysler Building against the windowpane with one lazy finger.
"What on earth do I do now?" she sighed, her breath creating a white fuzzy spot over her reflection's mouth. She wiped it away slowly. Behind her, the constant shuffle of the busy airport rang in her ears... a jumble of languages along with the rustle of suitcases and the hurried beats of anxious feet... shouting children, crying babies, talking businessmen... words that turned into nonsense in the hollow of her ear, that almost seemed like a muffled, mysterious voice calling her name...
...no, wait.
Someone WAS calling her name.
Tsukushi wheeled, and her eyes widened as she fell back against the glass of the window. A figure was rapidly approaching her from one of the flight gates, waving a carry-on bag high in the air and nearly knocking over fellow passengers in the act. Her eyes darted to the sign above the gate: Flight 3580, now arriving from Narita International Airport.........
"Tsukushi!" Shigeru grinned.