In Islamabad, Pakistan, a receptionist of an office building was surprised to see a package placed on the counter, thickly-wrapped in brown paper, and it was addressed to the head of the local bureau of a well-known news channel, whose offices were on the fifth floor. He'd seen anonymous drop-offs like this before, mostly Hi-8 tapes or compact discs with some insurgent propaganda video recorded on, but sometimes contained any explosive reportage, such as the beheading of a captured soldier or a spectacularly gruesome roadside IED explosion. The anonymous recordings were handled meticulously, making sure they left no fingerprints or any indications of their origin.

Picking up the intercom phone, the receptionist promptly called the bureau office upstairs.

"Yes?" the man on the other line answered.

The bearded receptionist sighed. "You may have to come and pick this up," he said. "This video here could be your next scoop, but as usual, not pretty."

MARIA-SAMA GA MITERU: NINETEEN
Chapter 2: Funeral Wake
Written by soulassassin547
Rev. Date: 9/28/2010 19:20 a9/p9

The crash site was located about eight kilometers north of Nemuro, a city in Hokkaido. Eyewitnesses there said that they heard an explosion, before looking up to the sky to see a fireball, which from there flaming debris could also be seen flying away in all directions.

The fragments of the fuselage, the wings and its engines were the first to hit the water. Any remaining aviation fuel spilled onto the surface of the sea was ignited by fire from the debris, creating scattered islands of flame. Soon, this patch of water became crowded with floating junk, including half-burnt luggage, clothing… and bodies and parts of passengers.

About a day passed when the recovery teams found the bodies floating on the water, and while rescue helicopters flew overhead, trying in vain to find any survivors and keeping an eye for anything out of the ordinary, sailors belonging to the Maritime Self-Defense Force and the Coast Guard undertook the grim task of picking up the bodies, debris, and anything that might help explain the mid-air detonation. Of course, the MSDF also brought in a ship equipped with a deep-sea submersible to find the black boxes buried under the cold ocean.

Six hours later the remains of the passengers, loaded onto C-130 Hercules cargo planes, were airlifted back to Tokyo for further forensic identification and study; the recovered remains of the aircraft were being collected in a hangar reserved for investigators.

While the investigation was at full steam, the news networks have focused their attention to the tragedy, and the Japanese people and the world were watching, everyone mourning, questioning, and demanding immediate answers.

Meanwhile back at the Ogasawara family mansion, Sachiko's almost-distant relatives belonging to the Kashiwagi and Matsudaira clans have finished preparing the household for a funeral wake.

On the grounds, just near the mansion, they erected a large tent to serve for the funeral wake, with black-and-white striped curtains hung around the walls. Inside, large portraits of Sachiko's parents and grandfather were propped up. Below them were large bouquets of flowers (mostly red roses to honor Sayako's time as Rosa Chinensis) and wreaths, placed by their closest friends, former classmates, employees and business associates as they streamed in and gathered inside to pay their respects, bowing before the portraits before placing their offerings of flowers at the shrine.

Of all the mourners, the hardest-hit was Yumi's mom, Miki, who'd once looked up to Sachiko's mother while back in her Lillian days, and at the moment Touko's foster mom was trying to console her as she sobbed; meanwhile Yumi's dad was talking to Touko's foster dad, talking about Tohru, recounting how they were once rivals while studying at Hanadera.

Away from the tent, in her bedroom on the second floor, and on the four-poster bed, Sachiko had just finished crying along with Yumi and Touko. Behind closed doors, they were mourning for about an hour after they were informed that the remains of her parents have arrived and identified, due to be cremated later at a mortuary, but the younger soeurs tried their best to console their eldest sister, who came home yesterday in a state of near-catatonia.

Indeed, they were summoned to come at the infirmary, to keep an eye on her after she screamed and then fainted right in the dean's office. It was then while bed-ridden Sachiko told the girls the truth before both soeurs burst into tears.

Yumi, her composure now returned, handed Sachiko a box of tissues. She nodded in thanks, pulled away one of the tissues and dabbed it onto her cheeks, before she sighed.

"What can I do now?" she asked bitterly. "I couldn't decide what to do."

"I have no idea either," Yumi answered, sniffing.

Indeed Sachiko had little idea what she had to do next, other than waiting for the family lawyer to present the will. For a long time she had little idea of how to cope with the unexpectedly-uncertain future, under the false impression that everything was prepared for her, like an unfurled red carpet.

Now she was left with so many questions running in her mind, trying to find the answers to her doubts. Sachiko, being so used to Catholic doctrine, pondered if this tragedy was also God's will.

Was she was being tested, to see if she could stand up to the unexpected? Yes, it could be, but she was worried about what to do in the next few days, or maybe the next few decades.

Sachiko felt overwhelmed, so she covered her face with both palms. But then the three soeurs heard the knocking on the door. Touko got off the bed, walked over and opened the door.

It was Yumi's dad, Yuichiro. He looked tired after working on the wake preparations, but even then, he was determined to do everything to honor Sachiko's parents.

"Oh, sorry for disturbing you all," Yuichiro said. "But it's important."

"What is it, sir?" Touko asked.

"Tell Sachiko that your classmates are here," he said. "They're waiting for you girls."

Back in Islamabad, right in their offices, the news bureau chief and the pool of reporters grimly watched the video on one of their monitors, listening to the declaration made by one of the masked leaders onscreen for twenty minutes. Behind the man was a banner identifying themselves as the Ten Rings, allied with Al-Qaeda and the Taliban; their mission was the same as the former terrorist organization, but more militant, deadly and sophisticated, their ranks growing by the day.

From their clandestine location, the Ten Rings leader claimed responsibility for the destruction of Flight 3209, and went on ranting about Japan's defense alliance with the United States. The honcho warned of more reprisals against Japanese interests, should the Americans refuse to abandon their operations and military bases in Japan and in Afghanistan, before delving down into the usual condemnation of Israel's actions against the Palestinians.

As the rhetoric continued, the reporters wrote down notes, exchanging opinions, but they unanimously agreed that they had an exclusive. One of the reporters started writing down a script.

A half-hour after the video ended, along with a reporter voice-over finished in a jiffy at the studio, one of the in-house editors began uploading the raw footage and the processed two-minute video to the company server in Qatar with a dedicated high-speed broadband line.

It was a solemn reunion of sorts for the entire Yamayurikai council, as the three Red Roses came face to face with their friends, and by tradition they greeted themselves with Gokigenyou.

"I'm sorry for what happened," Yoko said almost quietly to Sachiko, who looked somber.

Sachiko sighed. "Didn't expect this… But I can't find the words."

"Look," Yoko said as she placed her hand on Sachiko's shoulder. "Don't try to worry too much. Be glad that we came here."

Indeed, the past and present members of the Yamayurikai and their friends all stared at Sachiko with complete sympathy; the Rosa Gigantea and the Rosa Foetida families were grouped together: Sei Satou, Shimako Todou and Noriko Nijou held their bouquets of white roses, while the group led by Eriko Torii, along with Rei Hasekura, Yoshino Shimazu and Nana Arima had yellow roses with them. With the exception of the former Roses, most of them wore their school uniforms.

In addition, the representatives of the Lillian Kawarahan were also here, not as reporters but like everyone else: Tsutako Takeshima, along with Shoko Naitou and Mami Yamaguchi; they held each a red rose.

Even though she was never selected as a member, but nevertheless an important ally thereafter, Kanako Hosokawa towered over them, with a mixed bouquet of all three rose colors.

Finally, as a gesture of goodwill and solidarity, even the student council boys from Hanadera, including Yuuki as its (almost reluctant) school president, were also present with their large red-rose wreaths.

"We're all together in this," Yoko declared. "You'll need our support, just like the old days."

The tribute moved Sachiko. "Thank you," she said, trying not to burst into tears but failed. Yoko consoled her by embracing, letting her cry on the older girl's shoulder.

Afterwards, with Sachiko watching them, her friends walked over to in front of the shrine, bowed deeply, and then one by one they solemnly placed their offerings of roses, while Shimako and Noriko whispered Buddhist prayers for the dead.

After the whole group finished paying their respects, they all went to the mansion and settled down at the living room for a private get-together; while some of them were talking about their awful plane explosion, much of the Yamayurikai were clustered around the coffee table, seated on the couches, voicing their concerns for Sachiko's future.

Liston and two maids served tea, hot cocoa and coffee for Sachiko's visitors, passing the drinks around, before another maid carted into the living room a trolley full of pastries.

"May I ask something?" Shimako said, seated and facing Sachiko.

Sachiko looked back at her, eyes still somber. "Yes?"

"I'm worried as to how you'll be able to live on your own."

The former Rosa Chinensis sighed and shook her head. "I just don't know," she said, instinctively brushing her long hair away. "But I'm sure it'll be harder."

"You can still learn," Sei added. "I know you have that knack somewhere in your heart, to keep on living."

Sachiko said nothing, except she sighed.

"I understand that this is really painful for you," Yoko said, "but as soon as the funeral is over, you have to move on. Instead, think about of the living; Think about us, and you'll never be alone." She then pointed out Yumi and Touko, who nodded in agreement.

Sachiko shook her head, wishing this tragedy never happened, for her parents were trying to get their relationship back on track, the Ogasawara men reforming themselves out of self-conscience. Watching them improve themselves made her happy, bolstering hopes for the future.

But it was all too soon, gone before they could make the most of their second chance in life.

Now, just as the news pundits were asking since yesterday, who is to blame for the explosion, then? If so, why? How can such a grave heartbreak happen to her family? If it was indeed a terrorist bomb, then why they do it, and for what reason?

She heard everything about terrorism from prime-time news, footage of rough-faced men in scarves, crawling in the desert sand with their guns, throwing grenades into houses, blowing up trucks, talking on the camera about killing Americans and anyone who opposed them, telling their captive audience to take up arms and destroy their enemies…

Sachiko couldn't understand why such men regard their bloody deeds as a tribute to the deity they worshiped. Why?

She remembered some weeks ago, when a visiting bishop came to Lillian for a symposium on religious tolerance and understanding. Standing before his audience, he lectured first about the centuries of prejudice, intolerance, and misinterpretation of faiths, causing religious wars through the ages; while a projector showed images of violence and war, he talked about the European Thirty Years War between the Catholics and the Protestants; the Crusades in the Middle Ages; the Holocaust during World War II; and, with a tone of disappointment, the current conflict between the West and the Middle East, including car bombs, massacres, air raids, hostage-taking...

The bishop asked his audience, why such needless violence must be committed when those religions were supposed to emphasize love and understanding between men and all of humanity? Why try to destroy one religion for the sake of another? Is it not a travesty, a complete violation of the supposedly peaceful tenets that their teachers, prophets and priests have established centuries ago?

From his podium, the bishop then suggested that if true peace needed to be obtained for the survival of mankind, the extremists from all faiths must be suppressed with moderation, all believers should be educated about religious differences, and above all, religious leaders should be taking the lead as examples of tolerance, unity and peace, not ignorance, division and destruction.

But the bishop warned that it would take time and effort to reach that goal, with many roadblocks of unawareness on the way, and he told the students that they have the will and the opportunity of youth to change the future.

Now, if the explosion was an act of terrorism, why her parents and hundreds have to die for such pointless violence in the name of God? Sachiko asked herself.

Why?

On the other hand, Yumi almost had the same thoughts as her onee-sama; she still couldn't believe that this tragedy could happen without warning.

Yumi remembered that almost three years ago, Sachiko's grandmother died; she had to go through that phase of grief, of losing that irreplaceable connection to the past. Back then, the reason there was a spectacular case of misunderstanding between them, was that Sachiko was asked by her grandmother not to tell Yumi of her dying; the old lady heard of stories about Sachiko's younger sister, rekindling those long-lost days. The resulting miscommunication, along with Touko's presence, nearly derailed their relationship, before it took a request from Sayako to summon Yumi to deal with her older sister.

Now, Yumi shook her head, this is the worst that Sachiko had to contend, for with the death of her parents the world she lived in was in peril, and an uncertain future awaited.

Yet she thought of one way that might help Sachiko, and voiced her idea.

"I thought that…" Yumi trailed off, trying to pick the right words, "if it's all right that, after I ask them, you could stay with us?"

For a moment Sachiko gazed up at the ceiling, attempting to make up her mind. She wondered, what would happen long after the funeral was over? What would she do here?

Given the immense size of the mansion, it didn't take long for Sachiko to comprehend that she would be very lonely. Terribly lonely.

The past year since her graduation was the only length of time that Sachiko was confidently able to talk to her parents, as her father tried to restore and rekindle everything that was lost. Once absent, Sachiko's father came home early, quite unusual at first but it turned out that he was taking the first step in making life within the mansion more bearable.

Encouraged, Sachiko performed for her parents some pieces on the grand piano every Saturday night after dinner, as the living music of the ivories filled up this otherwise-silent living room. But now the grand piano was silent, untouched since last Saturday, as if it was hushed not to make another note.

"I'm not sure," Sachiko said. "But I'll try to talk to them and see if they might agree, okay?" she added, referring to Yumi's parents.

Yumi nodded.

In his office, amidst the reports strewn about on his desk, and the general atmosphere of urgency around him, with his aides moving back and forth, answering telephone and fax inquiries, Prime Minister Murasaki was watching the recent Al-Jazeera news update on his TV set, a statement made by a representative of a terror group on video.

He was suddenly angry, pounding his fist on the desk in outrage, as the scarf-wearing spokesperson belonging to a group called the Ten Rings, claimed responsibility for the bombing of Flight 3209 and made demands for the Allies to withdraw from Afghanistan, and the United States to leave Japan. Murasaki quickly picked up the phone and dialed the number for the Defense Minister's office.

"I want to talk to your boss immediately," he said to the secretary manning the phone, taking notes. "Tell him that the situation has become critical."

"Yes, sir," she answered.

Once he placed the phone back to its cradle, Murasaki tried to analyze just how many feet his country has stepped on. So far, he knew that Japan's gesture of international intervention was largely humanitarian, with aid groups giving assistance in developing countries. But at one point his predecessor sent SDF troops to Iraq to support the occupying forces by providing aid, much to the consternation of legislators in the Diet, arguing that the move was a complete violation of Article 9 in the Constitution, which prohibits the other uses of the SDF other than internal national defense. Thus the resulting furor forced the then-prime minister to pull out the Jietai contingent from Iraq.

Now, although Japan's association with the United States was principally based on the need for mutual defense, this, Murasaki thought, made the country a prime target, as one of those terrorist leaders promised that he would attack anyone allied to America. And, considering the Ten Rings' demands, what could he do, drop everything that they worked hard for decades after World War Two?

Overwhelmed, Murasaki sighed in frustration.

Among the visitors that were streaming into the Ogasawara estate in cars, every one of them invited personally, Vincent Hayashida, behind the wheel of his late-model Honda Civic, had a lot of questions running through his mind, as the deaths of his employers had left the whole company almost headless.

The 48-year-old man had already seen the newscasts, read off the websites and the dailies, heard the news on the radio; there was no escaping that it was one of the worst peacetime disasters in Japanese history; the last time there was a plane crash involving hundreds dead, it was back in 1985 when a Japan Airlines 747 crashed into a mountain on a foggy day.

As Vincent turned to a vacant parking lot and parked there, he remembered that, about an hour ago the board of directors finished discussing about the contingency plans they have set to take effect tomorrow morning; they have also selected an interim CEO and a president to take over the vacant positions left by the Ogasawara leadership.

For a moment, Vincent paused to look at himself in the rear-view mirror, to make sure he looked right, adjusting his tie, before he opened the door and stepped out. He then straightened out his three-piece suit, sighed and began to make his way to the tent. Already people milled about on the lawn around the tent, talking and gesturing, trying to do something to get busy for a while before going home. Vincent saw some familiar faces, so he made small talk with them, for a couple of minutes until he was free to enter the tent.

There was a table placed near the entrance, and two women, acting as receptionists, asked Vincent to present either his invitation or any credentials, and he was obliged to show them his company calling card:

OGASAWARA GROUP
Hayashida Vincent
Deputy Chief Security Officer

Satisfied with his calling card, the women thanked him and gestured Vincent to come inside, the man pausing for a while to take off his shoes, as the tent was laid with tatami mats. Finding a spot for himself, he sat down cross-legged and began to wait.

As the deputy CSO, Vincent was tasked to assist the company CSO in all matters of security, including measures against espionage, petty crime, computer hacking, misuse of funds, and other white-collar crimes. The corporate security apparatus was also tasked with the safety and integrity of all Ogasawara assets, properties and personnel, and most recently, disaster planning and coordination.

The last item was what Vincent came here for, as he waited for the interim CEO, Hiroki Munetaka, to finish, who was at the moment preoccupied with an interesting yet muted conversation with the chief financial officer and the chief operations officer.

Vincent reorganized his thoughts, wondering if the surviving daughter could cope with the loss of her parents, and, should she be named a possible successor, deal with the inevitable responsibility of leadership.

No, Vincent disagreed. Miss Ogasawara is still too young to take that role.

He remembered being hired for the job two years ago, once out of the United States Navy; he'd been born in Hawaii, to a couple of Nisei, Japanese-Americans living since the 1900s, his ancestors working on the sugarcane plantations.

After high school he was accepted at Annapolis as a cadet, and once he graduated, passing with flying colors he joined the Navy. Not content with his butterbar rank for a couple of years at sea, and always eager for an adventuresome challenge since his days playing quarterback in the high school football team, he applied as a volunteer for the Navy SEALs, one of the toughest elite forces on earth. It took him two tries to make it through the infamous Hell Week, before he made it and diligently studied the down-and-dirty intricacies of special operations work. Once he earned the coveted eagle insignia on his chest, and then happily married to a fellow Nisei, Vincent found himself in every trouble spot in the world, in Kuwait, Somalia, Bosnia, Kosovo, Afghanistan, and then Iraq.

The last assignment was supposed to be the culmination of his duty, when he received a call that his wife had ovarian cancer, forcing him to leave early. The next few years Vincent had to take care of his dying wife, and tried to look after his son while having to train new SEALs at Coronado.

But once his wife died, Vincent made the decision to retire early as lieutenant-commander, and took himself and his son to Japan. Thanks to his parents, who schooled him in the native tongue at home, Vincent prospered, landing a job at the Ogasawara Group, after the corporate headhunters pored over his resume and decided that they needed a specialist who could help them see through the post-9/11 era, in these days of car bombs, unstable governments, and terrorism.

From there Vincent was assigned to make security surveys in countries with stability problems, whenever the Ogasawaras planned to visit those countries; at home he undertook the job of checking the security of every branch across Japan, instituting proper security measures and putting security personnel through his methods of training on matters of counterterrorism, crime detection and prevention.

Now, as one of the men responsible for disaster management, taking the dour business of setting their measures in motion, Vincent was to personally brief his superior on the current situation regarding the destruction of Flight 3209.

Just then Munetaka saw him and walked over, causing Vincent to get up onto his feet and they bowed, before the new CEO asked, "So, what's the matter this time? You should've called me."

Vincent shook his head. "Can't. Turns out it's a real bombing. A group called the Ten Rings claimed responsibility."

Munetaka frowned. "Ten Rings?"

"Yes," Vincent confirmed. "New terrorist cell that's been making headlines in the last couple of years. Usually they do the dirty work in Afghanistan and in Pakistan, but now they made the claim, that's been changed." He then explained what the Ten Rings were for about eight minutes.

"What business do they want with us? They think we're bothering them just because we have American bases right here," Munetaka remarked sourly.

"They'll strike whoever is associated with the Americans, and unfortunately the Ten Rings wasn't joking," Vincent replied.

The other man sighed in frustration. This, and the fact that Ogasawara Group stock have plummeted along with the rest of the Tokyo Stock Exchange in the last 36 hours had put them in a quandary; investor and stockholder confidence was at a fragile time when things aren't coming up roses since the last prime minister and his cabinet failed to turn everything around during the burgeoning economic crisis.

"I see," Munetaka concluded. "But I forgot to ask… Do you have anything else to do here?"

Vincent nodded. "I'd better pay my respects to Mister Ogasawara, because he's the one who picked me out."

Yumi had memories of mingling with the elder Ogasawaras; about two years ago she first met Sayako on New Year's Eve, her kindness dispelling Yumi's nervousness as the girl stepped into the mansion. From there, Yumi felt special whenever she came here, or at the family vacation home up in the countryside, and they told him that they accorded her respect because of her close friendship with Sachiko, through thick and thin.

Now, as she sipped her cup of green tea, Yumi was deeply concerned for the future of her one-sama, facing an uncertain future where anyone caught unprepared may suffer.

What would she do?

Yumi then remembered the last New Year's Eve when both families got together for the first time, along with the Matsudairas, and between their parents memories were rekindled; while her father finally got over with his old rivalry with Sachiko's dad after all those years; her mother, in a far corner, was talking to Sachiko's mom about their days back in Lillian.

The last was quite an eye-opener, as her mom showed to Sayako a library book that she hid for many years; as she opened to the first page, there was her handwriting, and suddenly everything came back to her.

The next minute Sayako and Miki explained everything how that happened on that fateful afternoon, in the old greenhouse where Sayako was then taking a nap when Miki walked in without warning; Miki then recounted how she absent-mindedly had Sayako autograph the library textbook, before she realized her mistake in which she had to replace the book with a new one.

For the three Roses it was a revelation, and Yumi wondered aloud if it was a cosmic coincidence that their mothers never knew that one day their children would become soeurs.

Now Yumi looked up from her half-full cup and watched Sachiko talking to Yoko at a far corner, seriously pondering about the future.

"She's no different from me," Touko said.

Yumi blinked. "Why?"

"I'm an orphan just as she is, now that Uncle and Auntie aren't… Here anymore." Touko then sighed as she held Yumi's hand. "So I'm worried as you are," she added.

Within Touko, she understood Sachiko's plight, for she lost both of her parents in a car accident when she was an infant, and then adopted by a classmate of her mother whose firstborn died in birth. However her fate was sealed when she was in line to inherit the country hospital north of Tokyo, but as she was still young, years away from obtaining a medical doctorate, Touko then wasn't sure of herself.

Completely torn, Touko ran away but finally sought brief refuge in Yumi's home, and was surprised that Yumi offered her to come into her room, a rare gesture that Touko would've preferred Sachiko to take her place.

Going back to where she was contemplating, Touko knew that there was no way that Sachiko would ever try to rejoin Kashiwagi again, now that the man had finally made his choice by not taking her as a bride; lately she heard rather unsavory rumors that he was seeing someone of the same sex in Harajuku, so the idea of Sachiko turning to Kashiwagi was no longer possible.

Now what alternatives Sachiko would have to choose from? Touko knew that she could try to find another man, preferably equal or exceeding Sachiko's wealth; after all, her newfound friendship with some of the Hanadera men, especially Yuuki, altered Sachiko's perception of the opposite sex, as not all of them were womanizers, lechers or playboys;

But, no, Sachiko wouldn't accept another wealthy man, as she had already voiced her disappointment with the constrictive trappings of wealth, and wished that she could live simply as her petite soeur.

The only way left then for Sachiko was to fend on her own, but the problem was that how she could manage her life in such a way? Drastically, if Sachiko needed to live as she wished, she'll have to give up everything.

Yet to surrender would be tantamount to dishonoring her parents and her ancestry, who'd been working for all of their lives to create and nurture what the Ogasawara Group has become today.

Touko sighed. If Sachiko needed to preserve her heritage, and to live as though the plane crash never existed, she'll have to hand over the corporation to other men who would manage it in her name, which explains why the interim CEO, Hiroki Munetaka, was here not just to pay his respects to his long-gone boss, but presumably also to ask for Sachiko's full permission to run the corporation as part of an emergency measure.

"Where's your father?" Sachiko asked Yoko. Both young women were standing by the window, watching the crowds outside as the night slowly crept in, the lightposts turning on automatically.

"Since last night, he's been working on your granddad's Last Will and Testament," Yoko said. "Of course I don't know much about the details."

Sachiko nodded. "I see," she whispered.

"You're a few days away from your birthday, and I'm pretty sure you'll make up your mind as to what to do once that testament comes into your hands."

"I know… Yet whatever it would say wouldn't matter much to me," Sachiko admitted.

Yoko had a double-take. "What?"

"If all this," Sachiko said, upraising her hand as if to emphasize that the mansion was an example of her wealth, "No, if all this were to be given to someone else, that's okay; if it's for charity, I wouldn't mind." Sachiko then bowed her head, and added, "All I want is to live simply as I really wanted; I don't want to go on living a very complicated life."

"But… Sachiko, your parents have worked hard to get this far, and then you wanted to leave all this behind? It's like you're throwing it all away."

Inwardly, Yoko was alarmed, for she figured out that Sachiko wasn't thinking rationally since yesterday, and she knew that at times of emotional distress and given her near-isolated upbringing, Sachiko would regress and retreat from within. So, wearing once more the old mantle of Rosa Chinensis, she took hold of her and added, "Look at me and listen."

Obediently Sachiko stared into Yoko's eyes.

"You have to snap yourself out of that deep funk, and it's not going to give you any good," Yoko said, pausing only to sigh. "You're smart, you still have some talent, and I know that you were able to lead the Yamayurikai without much of a scratch, so why can't you use those abilities for this kind of situation, just like now?"

Yoko shook her head. "Sachiko, you're almost a woman now, one step closer to a riskier world where survival is everything and you have to be smart. I hate to say this, but you have to preserve your parent's legacy, as you're their only heir, and you've been raised to take on the responsibility. Now, I ask you one thing: can you handle it?"

Trying to make up her mind, Sachiko closed her eyes.

"I'll try what I could," she whispered after a moment. "I promise."

"You're sure?" Yoko asked.

Sachiko nodded. "Yes."

Author's Notes: Sorry if I was working IRL, trying to get some free time to think and write while dividing that free time between this and my other fic. It's not easy multi-tasking, you know, as I'm more of a "one at a time" man. So I have to get each chapter out every week as much as possible, as I understand that I don't want to leave my audience hanging, nor my writings unfinished.

Now, if you have any questions, comments and criticisms, just tell me. I'm welcome to listen, and if possible address your issues. Thanks and just wait for the next installment!