In safety and in bliss / May all creatures be of a blissful heart. / Whatever breathing beings there may be, / No matter whether they are frail or firm, / With none excepted, be they long or big / Or middle-sized, or be they short or small / Or thick, as well as those seen or unseen, / Or whether they are far or near, / Existing or yet seeking to exist, / May all creatures be of a blissful heart. / Let no one work another's undoing / Or even slight him at all anywhere; / And never let them wish another ill / Through provocation or resentful thought. /

And just as might a mother with her life / Protect the son that was her only child, / So let him then for every living thing / Maintain unbounded consciousness in being, / And let him too with love for all the world / Maintain unbounded consciousness in being / Above, below, and all round in between, / Untroubled, with no enemy or foe.

And while he stands or walks, or while he sits / Or while he lies down, free from drowsiness, / Let him resolve upon this mindfulness. / This is Divine Abiding here, they say.

- A Prayer for the Dead, Metta Sutta

Holding a can of coffee in his right hand, Vincent flicked his wrist around to check the time on his battle-scarred Luminox watch; told him it was past eight in the evening as the funeral wake was still in full swing, with more guests arriving.

Vincent sighed, but he still has to carry out his duties, which included supervising the security team that was assigned to patrol the estate grounds and the perimeter fence enclosing the 8-acre property. So far the guards told him there was only a few incidents with some TV reporters and a pair of photographers trying to get close as possible to the funeral wake.

He then looked up at the mansion, built a few decades after Commodore Perry arrived in Japan, which commenced the opening of the country to the world. Like many Japanese buildings during the Meiji period, it was patterned after common European design of the time, elegant and imposing, a definitive sign that the family was old money.

Historically the Ogasawaras weren't known for public exposure (barring the open knowledge that the family males traditionally had mistresses until a year ago) and they were strictly conservative, and in fact Vincent once heard from Munetaka an anecdote as to how their old boss Harumi once, back in the eighties, refused an offer by the producers of The Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous to document a slice of their lives. When asked why, old Harumi told them that, unlike the noveau riche in the billionaires' club, their family traditionally eschewed ostentatious displays of wealth. The story since then became legend among many in company lore.

Recalling the tale somehow amused Vincent, as he tossed the can into a wastebasket and ambled back to the tent, with guests filing in. Halfway across, he felt his cellular phone vibrating and pulled it out quickly from his pocket.

"Yes, this is Hayashida here. May I ask who this is?" he asked.

"This is Prime Minister Murasaki," the caller answered, the familiar voice from the post-election interviews causing Vincent to blink twice. Well, the man himself, he thought.

"Your Excellency, what can I do for you?" Vincent asked, using the formal address and title, "…and how did you know my number?"

Murasaki cleared his throat. "Mister Hayashida, I was informed that, after my aides tried to contact your superiors, and sorry to say that they were probably busy, you are the only one available at the moment, as I would like to pay my respects for Mister Ogasawara, his wife and father."

Vincent nodded. "I see. I'll have your request arranged, sir. No problem."

"Thank you," Murasaki answered. "We will be here in a moment."

Once the call was cut off, Vincent thought, Definitely this family do have a lot of people in high places. The former Navyman then turned to the mansion and walked up the stairs.

MARIA-SAMA GA MITERU: NINETEEN
Chapter 3: PRAYERS FOR THE DEAD
Written by soulassassin547
8/20/2011 2:41 a8/p8

With the rest of her companions still inside the living room, trying to make the most of their time by playing card and board games and some small talk in between, Sachiko kept her station by the window, watching the guests park their cars and head towards the tent.

She wanted to come back in and try to entertain their guests, but the mere voices of her friends were preferred music for her ears; Sachiko could hear them bantering about school, home, and in the case of the former Roses, term papers and part-time jobs.

From her past exchanges with them since her graduation, Sachiko knew that Sei Satou had spent a summer internship working for an American firm as a translator; that Eriko Torii had a stint as an aide for an avant-garde fashion designer; and Yoko Mizuno, being in line to inherit her father's law firm, did after-classes intern work at their office.

Sachiko wondered what if the responsibility fell into her hands, should she attend the reading of the will. Sure, she knew that the family firm held a wide sway over the Japanese retailing industry, but admitted that she then had a scant idea as to how things work from inside, hence her enrollment at the business school.

Being repentant, her father invited her to come visit the main department store in Shibuya, introducing to her the inner workings of retailing, the tricks of the trade and how products were being marketed to potential customers. Sachiko was able to appreciate her father's critical role in day-to-day operations, surprised at the far extent of resources needed to sustain the corporation's existence.

Going back to the question, Sachiko decided that she would only take the helm after being prepared for that role, and she now knew that it would be arduous, and effectively on she was on her own.

But then she suddenly thought of the future, of what she would look like about two decades later.

Sachiko pictured herself, of being the last to leave the penthouse office right on top of the company skyscraper, packing her papers into a briefcase, and then glancing out of the huge windows at the night-time skyline, before focusing back to her reflection on the glass…

Her hair tied in a bun, face showing a bit of age lines, the weariness hidden beneath layers of makeup, and her eyes behind a pair of horn-rimmed glasses.

Blinking back to the present, Sachiko wondered if that would be her future, with Yumi and Touko on their own, both girls more likely to marry and eventually have children of their own someday...

But what about herself?

After her time with Suguru Kashiwagi, which led to them calling off the relationship and becoming friends only, Sachiko still didn't thought much about men in roles other than a few as trusted allies, such as Yuuki and the eccentric Hanadera student council.

Throughout the year since her graduation, Sachiko didn't allow any men to ask her for a date (and none of them tried to do so), not quite sure as to how she could conduct herself with a man whom she doesn't know about. Indeed, she doubted men outside her circle, most of them weren't sure-footed or too childish for her tastes.

Sachiko sighed; there was little choice except to live with the sordid possibility of loneliness for years to come…

"Pardon me, miss," said a voice that was behind her. Startled, Sachiko whirled around to see Vincent Hayashida standing before her.

"What do you need?" Sachiko asked, as she blinked.

"Oh, I'm sorry but I have to inform you that the Prime Minister is coming," Vincent said. "Naturally, your presence is required."

Sachiko nodded. "I see. Murasaki was my father's classmate back when they were studying at Hanadera," she said. "They were on the student council in those days."

"How did you know that?" Vincent asked.

"He told me about him, when he was selected as Prime Minister a few months ago. By the way, I… Who are you?"

Vincent sighed and then smiled. "I'm Vincent Hayashida, deputy chief security officer, and I'm the one managing the guards here right now. So far, nothing out of the ordinary, miss." The former commando then peered out at the window; saw the Prime Minister's limo arriving into the compound.

"He's here now," Vincent informed her.

Stepping out of the Mercedes limo, Prime Minister Akio Murasaki was accompanied by two of his aides while several National Police bodyguards in severe black suits got off their SUVs, and they all headed to the funeral tent. As he requested and out of respect for the dead, Murasaki disallowed any official press coverage, yet outside the fence the television crews – the vultures, really - were already reporting about his unannounced stopover.

Once he stepped into the tent, everyone stood up and bowed deeply, as Murasaki walked up to the shrine and for a moment he stared at the three portraits, whispering his prayers before he bowed.

Afterwards he turned back and began exchanging whispered small talk with the relatives, guests, and Sachiko's classmates, until he saw the young woman standing there. Promptly he approached her, bowed and said, "Miss Ogasawara, I presume?"

Sachiko bowed in return and replied, "Yes."

"I give my sympathies for your loss," Murasaki whispered.

"Thank you, Your Excellency," Sachiko responded.

Murasaki sighed. "Right now, we're trying our best to find out as to who is responsible for this… tragedy. I assure you that sooner or later we will have an answer to all that."

Sachiko nodded.

The prime minister looked around and he said, "May I have a word with you? Just for a few moments?"

"You may do so," Sachiko answered. "Come with me into the house. The library would be fine, and do you wish for some tea?"

"Of course," Muarasaki agreed.

The library inside the mansion afforded a degree of privacy, with books lining the shelves, and already the fireplace was lit. Sachiko let Murasaki sit down first on one of the cushioned chairs before she sat down and, with a nod, Liston laid down two cups of tea on the coffee table. The butler then left the room without a word.

They sampled the tea by sipping, before Murasaki decided that it was time to tell her the truth.

"Even though it's too early to conclude," he began, "investigators have told me that this isn't a freak accident or a case of mechanical failure…"

"So, is this the work of terrorists?" Sachiko asked.

Murasaki nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. According to experts I talked to, the plane is essentially new and put up with so much safety features that any problem can be fixed before taking off, but an explosion of this magnitude no doubt makes it a terror bombing. You may have not known this yet, but already a group calling themselves the Ten Rings claim responsibility on television, yet we're still finding out if indeed this is their handiwork."

Sachiko blinked twice, as if she couldn't comprehend what she was hearing. "The Ten Rings?"

"It's a terrorist group based in Pakistan and Afghanistan, dedicated to the removal of the American presence in both countries," he explained, "and are already taking over roles that Al-Qaeda once did, such as the September 11 attack in New York, and those embassy bombings in Africa. Now if their allegations are true, then this is their first attack abroad, and against a country other than the United States. Why? Because for years we allowed the Americans operate their military bases here for national security reasons, such as keeping our country safe against the possibility of a nuclear attack, and to maintain what they call a 'check and balance' on the movements of China and North Korea."

"But why attack us? Why do they have to kill many innocent people?" Sachiko asked, almost sounding indignant.

"Because we're allied to the Americans, the Ten Rings are obliged to attack anyone who is tied to that country, because to them America is their great enemy that is curtailing their beliefs and thus they must destroy. Killing civilians with no apology is one way they want to make a point, to make other people doubt the security that the state provides, to instill fear and uncertainty, to the point when citizens will distrust their own government."

Murasaki watched Sachiko sigh and then prop her head sideways against a free hand, as if she was hit by a migraine.

"What can we do?" she questioned. "I mean, if they're the ones responsible, how can they be stopped?"

The most powerful man in Japan at the moment shook his head. "I'm afraid that only the Americans are capable of doing everything they could to bring them down. Yet because the Americans are divided over themselves and with their foreign policies, they spend more time politicking and worrying about public criticism, than taking real action. Because of that, as an example, Bin Laden and his followers are still at large, never caught despite having the best-trained military forces in the world.

"For now, the only thing we could do is to be vigilant, and of course an investigation is now underway to determine who actually planted the bomb, because, as one of my aides told me while we watched their declaration on television, there's no way a member of the Ten Rings would come here and do just that; because with his thin face and long nose he'll stick out here in our country like a sore thumb."

Sachiko was taken aback. "You mean… This is the work of someone else?"

"It's possible," Murasaki said. "It's possible that the Ten Rings probably contracted somebody who could blend in and plant the explosives on the plane, and, considering that group is getting very large amounts of funding from unknown sources, they could pay anyone mercenary enough to carry out their orders."

Sachiko couldn't believe that Murasaki was able to polevault into such speculations like he was saying now, and so she asked, "How… How did you come to that conclusion?"

Murasaki gave her a sheepish smile. "Because, pardon me, Miss Ogasawara, I'm a fan of mystery and detective novels," he admitted. "Your father also once led the detective club at Hanadera, and that I was a member."

Murasaki began telling his tale to Sachiko, as to how he crossed paths with Tohru at Hanadera; he was then a transfer student, and on the first day not sure how the sons of the well-to-do could accept him in his ranks. Later on that day a bunch of bullies cornered him and suddenly gave Murasaki a beating, kicking him down until Tohru appeared before them. Enraged, Tohru threatened them to report the bullies to the principal but the bullies did otherwise by venting their anger at him. Yet Tohru was trained and obtained a black-belt in aikido, and he took on all five of the toughies until he had them spitting dirt.

The next day Tohru came up to Murasaki and asked if he could join the aikido and mystery clubs, and the latter accepted the former's offers. Murasaki surprised his new friend with his knowledge on detective mysteries, anything from Sherlock Holmes to Agatha Christie, all the while offering the club his own fiction writings, which the mimeographed novellas and the manga doujinshi adaptations sold like pancakes during the school's cultural festival.

In gratitude Tohru asked him if he could join the school council, and out of friendship he accepted one of the positions as vice-president, holding the post until graduation.

Since then both men went their separate ways, with Tohru staying in Hanadera University for business management studies, and Murasaki tackling both economics and political science. The next time they saw each other again, Murasaki was then running for a representative seat in the Diet and was also looking for someone to bankroll his election campaign. After hearing of Murasaki's intentions for election and promises to the voters, as the generous friend once more Tohru gave him enough secret funding to ensure his victory.

Thereafter Murasaki rose in rank, pushing his way up while keeping his reputation clean, which endeared to the voting public, until five months ago he became the most likely man in the party to become prime minister. As always, Tohru gave him a blank check with no preconditions, and Murasaki went ahead, finally clenching the position left behind by his disgraced predecessor.

"I didn't regret what he did for me," Murasaki told Sachiko. "But you and I know that there's a word for it: gakubatsu… No, it's not for a bad reason, but your father saw that I had better things to do for this country, like cleaning up the mess that the last guy left behind."

Mursaki sighed. "Your father was a good man. Womanizer maybe, but he was still human. I knew that because at one time – last year - he asked me to come for a drink."

Down south and on the eastern portion of the Miura peninsula, beyond the port city of Yokohama lies the smaller city of Yokosuka, which possessed the largest American naval base west of Hawaii, and is currently home to the Seventh Fleet. In addition to the American military presence, the city is also home to a portion of the Maritime Self-Defense Force's fleet of destroyers, and the Defense Academy.

Just a half-kilometer west of downtown Yokosuka, in the warren of narrow streets formed by tiled-roof homes tight-packed in the usual Japanese way, a 20-year-old man was hunched behind his custom-built computer, playing World of Warcraft, and he also had his headset on for the use of Ventrilo, the popular voice-communication software used by most online players.

Online and in the game, he'd been busy killing monsters with his party, some of them his former elementary-school classmates back in the States, and some of them were kids living within the base, kids studying at Niles Kinnick High School behind the wire fence.

As Seiji "Shaun" Hayashida commanded his high-level Death Knight to buff the party (they're all Horde loyalists) and blast a withering assault against their foes, his mind was busy calculating about how much damage they were dishing; hit points popping out with each attack, while he and his posse looked out for the hurt they were getting in return.

Oh, it was still a thrill playing, and even more that he felt at home with these guys more than he could try to integrate with the locals, some of them who had a double-take with Seiji's brand of accented Japanese, which instantly marked him as a gaijin.

But that didn't stopped Seiji from studying computer and information science at Temple University in downtown Tokyo, where there were students who were more like him, especially those coming from elsewhere: Americans, Europeans, Africans, Chinese, Latinos... Every one of them had a reason to come here; some to simply study, others who liked to appreciate Japanese culture and all, and, lately, those who come for the sake of fulfilling their anime fanboy/fangirl fantasies.

The last type annoyed him within, and on their first day the newbie-fanboys would gush loudly, how they were finally walking the hallowed ground of their favorite characters, how they were looking forward to go ride the train to Akihabara and then raid the famous geek shops with their pocket money, hoping somehow their haul of figurines, DVDs and junk would be shipped back home. Seiji snorted, that (except for the few and sensible who kept their anime enthusiasm in check) some of those creatures don't quite last the school year, almost penniless from all the goodies they bought, and by the end of the semester they quit and fly back to where they came from.

The thought made Seiji laugh, as he saw his experience bar creeping close to 99%. Oh, damn, another friggin' level!

99.1%...
99.6%...
99.8%...
99.9%...

He did it, having done to clear level 65, and Seiji was whooping right there, exclaiming how he claimed his new level, telling his party buddies, who were congratulating him in return:

"Congratulations!"
"Hey, that was kick-ass, buddy!"
"Awesome!"
"Good job!"

Seiji sighed and replied, "Thanks, guys. It's been long enough to get there." He looked up at the clock and noted that it was twenty minutes before 11. He wondered, What's Dad's up to right now?

The young man grabbed his cellphone and dialed the number, before he waited.

Back in the Ogasawara manor, Vincent felt his cellphone vibrate and he pulled it out of his pocket. He then paused for a moment to look at the caller ID, told him it was Seiji, and he answered, "Yes?"

"Dad, what time you're coming home?" Seiji asked.

Vincent sighed. "I don't know. Why?"

Seiji sounded disappointed. "What's going on, Dad?"

"Haven't you heard the news?"

"No. I'm on the PC, working on my term paper," Seiji lied, but then he already shut down WoW, opened his browser and logged onto the Mainichi Daily News website. He was surprised that a plane explosion had already occurred this morning, and began reading off the headline.

"You say that… The folks running the store got killed up there, right?" Seiji questioned as he read.

"No kidding, son," Vincent said, "which explains why I'm stuck here and have to do my job. We have to keep an eye on the mansion, too."

"Mansion? Where are you now?"

"I'm right at the Ogasawara place, you know. I told you about it."

"Oh, I remember… What about the girl you also said?" Seiji asked, recalling the small tidbit about Sachiko.

"Miss Ogasawara? Well, she's here, but in mourning."

Seiji gave out a sigh of disappointment.

"I'll tell you more once I get home, okay? Maybe I'll be home before dawn," Vincent said. "Anything else?"

"Tell that girl my condolences. I hope she'll appreciate that."

"Okay. I'll see you later, son. Goodbye," Vincent said.

"Goodbye, Dad. Love you," Seiji answered before he heard the line click off. The young man put down his phone on the desk and pondered.

Ever since his father started working for the Ogasawara Group, the old man came home with some after-dinner stories to tell, as if to make corporate life more palatable; he said of office politics, of the little naughty things occurring behind the scenes, of people trying to scoop the cash register, fudge the figures, steal off some merchandise…

But sometimes his father would speak about the family that ran the corporation, describing each member of the Ogasawaras and their personalities, yet what interested Seiji the most was the only would-heiress to the empire, and his father told him stories about her.

Sachiko.

"What kind of girl she is?" Seiji asked after Vincent said about Sachiko. Both father and son were at the dining table, almost done eating their takeout dinner of bento boxes from the local Lawson's.

"Well," Vincent said as he shook his head, "Even if she's that beautiful, elsewhere they would've call her an ice queen, because she's silent and isn't interested in men. Why she can't? It's because her cousin also happens to be her… fiancé."

Seiji blinked twice. "What? That's odd."

"That's right," Vincent emphasized. "I know this because at one time I saw them together, but she didn't want to hold hands with him, as if trying to keep that guy away from her. You could tell people by the way of their body language, how they make faces, and how they speak, and in this case she hated her cousin."

"How she could cope with such a thing?"

Vincent thought of it, before he said, "As with rich people, I think she still has this will to have this grace under fire, to keep her reputation intact no matter how hard circumstances could be for people like her."

Seiji thought of something else. "Do you have a picture of her?"

"No," Vincent replied.

"Ah… never mind, Pops. I think I could find it."

Seiji made a few clicks with his mouse and opened a picture he downloaded from the Mainichi news website sometimes ago, showing Sachiko at some charity ball, stunningly beautiful and dressed elegantly in an empire-cut gown as she smiled for the camera.

The young man sighed for a moment, for a girl like Sachiko was a dream, attainable only by those who had the money, not to mention the looks, to court her.

But then Seiji tried not to think of the last breakup he had a week ago, when his girlfriend of about eight months dumped him, with a curt declaration that she was bored and expected her boy to be "exciting".

Disappointed, Seiji shrugged, and went back to WoW by logging in once more.

"At that one time," Murasaki began, "your father, being so drunk, admitted that he had a quandary, a dilemma really, about having to deal with your mother and his mistress, and how much of a balancing act he had to do. I asked him why he drank too much, and he said that he felt that he failed being a father, and he was blaming himself for being so much of a screw-up… oops, pardon me."

"That's okay," Sachiko said. "I have little issue with gutter language, although still not easy for me to listen to."

The Prime Minister sighed and added, "I told him, 'Look, my friend. As much as you try to maintain that tradition of keeping a mistress, it's not going to work in the long run, for sooner or later those mistresses would be asking for more than you could provide, even if you're one of the richest men in Japan.' Then he said, 'If you're thinking about my daughter, seems that you could be right.'"

Sachiko nodded. "I see," she said. "So that's how he decided to change?"

"Yes. In a nutshell, he was terribly worried, what with having to do a juggling act between family, mistresses, and business, and the last thing he wanted was to die without having a sense of contentment. So he told me outright, that from there and now, he promised to come clean."

The would-heiress only produced a sad smile.

"By the way," Murasaki said. "I hope that someday, you'll understand much about how much your parents have done not just for you, but for other people."

Sachiko nodded. "I'll try, sir, but at least in the last year things became better for us, especially with my father's change of heart."

Pleased, Murasaki smiled. "I didn't know that, but that's a good sign. Too bad there's a lot more waiting for him, mostly good turns in the tides of your fortunes."

"I know; it's just it's indeed sad that he still had some unfinished business, which I may have to deal with once I graduate."

"You're taking up business administration?"

"Yes sir, at Lillian University."

"Sounds like things have changed somewhat in that school," Murasaki remarked, before he rose from his chair. "Well?"

"I think I felt better about you talking about my father," Sachiko said as she stood up.

"So do I," Murasaki replied as he checked his watch, before reaching into the pocket of his coat and brought out a calling card. "Here's my card," he said, holding it with both hands.

In the time-honored tradition of card-exchanging, except for Sachiko having no card of her own, the young woman received the card anyway, before they bowed deeply to each other.

"Thank you, sir," Sachiko said.

"Thank you, too, young lady," Murasaki replied. "I also hope you could get your bearings right after this, and I'll keep your parents in my thoughts tonight. Good night, Miss Ogasawara."

"Good night, Mister Murasaki," Sachiko said as she watched the man leave the room quietly. Only then she picked up her cup of tea and resumed drinking.

As Murasaki was about to exit the mansion, he found Munetaka coming towards him, along with his two aides, along with a lawyer carrying a briefcase.

"I have to go, Mister Munetaka," Murasaki said. "Guess the company can't wait at all, neh?"

"Yes, and how's your little chat with Miss Ogasawara?" Munetaka asked as he straightened his tie.

"It's personal, but it was all fine… At least we had some issues taken off our chests, and given her some assurances that we'll try to resolve the bombing case."

Munetaka grinned in approval. "Have a nice sleep, your Excellency."

Murasaki nodded. "Thanks," he said before walking off, waving his hand in the air before opening the door. "Still have much to work on the next morning."

As she put away her empty cup, Sachiko heard the knocking on the library door.

"Who is it?" she asked, before Liston swung open the door.

"It's Mister Munetaka, milady," Liston said as he ushered the interim CEO into the room, and provided the empty chair that Murasaki had earlier used, while the aides dutifully hovered from behind, before they exchanged introductions and small pleasantries before sitting down.

Afterwards the lawyer with the briefcase laid it down onto the coffee table, unsnapped the latches and then flipped it open. Munetaka asked for the folder containing the papers, and the aide provided it from the briefcase, before the executive opened the folder and presented the document to Sachiko.

"Let me explain about this, miss," Munetaka began. "But since I'm aware that you have little idea about how we operate, I shall simplify this matter to make it easier for you to understand."

"Thank you," Sachiko said.

"Now," Munetaka said. "These documents consist of a letter of authorization and an agreement, in which you, as the would-be designated sole heir to all holdings and properties of your family, which includes the company, would authorize me to operate the Ogasawara Group as an interim chief executive officer."

"For how long?" the young woman asked.

"I suppose that I should last until the stockholders call for a general meeting – which should be in the next two weeks - and then nominate new officers before making a consensus by vote."

Sachiko nodded. "I see."

"For now, as this is an emergency situation, I volunteer myself to take the lead in guiding this company at least even in a temporary role," Munetaka said, before he nodded to the aide to hand him a folder containing his curriculum vitae, and gave it to Sachiko for her to read.

"I humbly say that I have the operational experience necessary for the position, miss."

"Would you like some tea?" Sachiko offered, laying the folder down on the table.

"Green tea would be fine," Munetaka said. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," she said, before the young woman began read the lengthy dossier carefully. Hiroki Munetaka was fifty-five, a University of Tokyo graduate who hailed from Saitama Prefecture, then went on studying at Sorbonne, earning his MBA, before coming home to be hired in by the Group as a division chief. Slowly he ascended through the ranks; working in both home offices and in the field, before eventually he was chosen as a chief operating officer prior to the bombing.

In a nutshell and on paper, he seemed to be perfect: trusted, loyal and fit for the job. Sachiko then glanced at Munetaka as she returned the dossier.

"Can I see the letter and the agreement?" Sachiko asked.

Munetaka nodded as he presented the folder, with both hands, to the young woman. She then read the documents carefully, despite the man's earlier warning that the legalese may be too hard for her to grasp. Already the documents had the signatures of the board affixed, approving Munetaka's intention to lead the corporation. Satisfied, she returned the folder to Munetaka, who was waiting for any remark from her.

"I have finally understood your intentions, Mister Munetaka," Sachiko said. "As I have yet to attain qualification, experience and the necessary age to lead this company of ours, I have decided that, along with the approval of the board of directors, I authorize you to serve as the interim CEO for the time being until, as you have said before, the stockholders will gather for a general meeting, nominate and elect new officers."

Munetaka smiled, personally impressed with Sachiko's comprehension and authority. "Thank you, milady," he said, before offering to her a fountain pen. "Should the day comes that I must step down, I shall heed according to the words written on the documents," he promised.

Sachiko nodded, before the young woman, guided by Munetaka's lawyer, was instructed to sign the documents, before Munetaka added his counter-signature, and then that of the lawyer and the two aides present, who also serve as witnesses. Finished, the lawyer promptly returned the signed documents to its folder, and in turn placed the folder back to the briefcase.

At that point, they all stood up, and with Munetaka leading they all bowed deeply to Sachiko, who returned the favor.

'Thank you, Mister Munetaka," she said. "That was very noble and selfless of you."

"It's my duty to serve, even in times of crisis," Munetaka said. "There is no other higher calling for me. I shall take up this duty no matter how hard it would be, or as a heavy burden on my shoulders."

Only then Sachiko noted that the older man's eyes were welling with tears, and so she dutifully picked up a box of tissues from a side table and handed it over to him. As he daubed his eyes with a couple of sheets, inwardly the young woman was greatly moved by this man's passion to his work, and the will to do anything to keep the company afloat.

"Pardon me for expressing my gratitude towards your generosity," Munetaka said as he wiped the tears off his cheeks. "That is something very rare within your family."

"No, again I must thank you," Sachiko said before she smiled, and then she pinched the ducts to her eyes, trying not to cry. "You are free to go, Mister Munetaka. I believe that you need to be at home and get some sleep."

Again the men bowed deeply to Sachiko, and once they rose upright, Munetaka said, "I'll never forget this day, and your parents will be in my heart as always. Good night, Miss Ogasawara."

Sachiko nodded. "Good night and thank you once more, Mister Munetaka," she replied, before they quietly left the room. Once they left her alone, except for Liston waiting by the door, she then inquired, "Has Yumi or Touko left? I mean, Misses Fukuzawa and Matsudaira."

Liston shook his head. "Not yet, milady," the butler said. "They're still here."

"I just need to have a few words with them before they go home," Sachiko said as she stood up.

The next morning saw Sachiko, wearing a black dress, standing before the grave of her parents and her grandfather, decorated with wreaths of flowers, and she was among many other dignitaries who showed up to pay their final respects. They were all in a local cemetery not far from home, attended by a Catholic priest who presided over the funeral.

Flanking her were Yumi and Touko, both dressed in black, as they listened to the priest reciting final rites; behind them were their friends, classmates and families, with their mothers almost silently grieving, their fathers painfully thinking much of the memories; there were also some relatives, including Suguru, who stood by while wearing sunglasses; the employees and executives who attended likewise thought of the uncertainty they'll have to face tomorrow; and a select few who were friends of Toru, mostly government officials, other corporate leaders, and a top-ranking official of the National Police.

Tens of meters away, plainclothes security detail and cops patrolled and kept guard over the mourners, disallowing any reporters or strangers from trying to come closer; among those men standing alert was Vincent, as he used his binoculars to scan the surrounding area, and periodically radioed in his status while checking the rest of the security detail.

For once he paused and through his binoculars, the only expression of grief Sachiko that she able to show was the tears coming down her cheeks, before Yumi helpfully daubed them away with a handkerchief.

With the graves blessed, the priest intoned the antiphon "I am the Resurrection and the Life", after which the jars containing their cremated remains were lowered into the grave. The Canticle Benedictus was then sung, before the antiphon was repeated once more, followed by the Lord's Prayer.

Taking the advice of others, including that of Yoko, Sachiko understood that no matter she would try to deny it, there was nothing she could do to prevent death or to reverse it; hysterics would do no good either, especially in public. Like most members of high society, she did her grieving with silent dignity and sobriety.

Instead, as she cried, the young woman leafed through the pages of her memory's photo album, afterimages impressed into her mind, of being with her parents in happier times, before she imagined they were back in the vacation home in the countryside.

Indeed, those days were gone, memories to live by.

What would matter more to Sachiko was to deal with the uncertainty of the future, and even in this state of sorrow she now focused her mind elsewhere, figuring out what she should be doing in the next few days, weeks, months, and even years; later tonight she would commit these to paper.

Only then she'll have to fight her own battles, thrust into the real world and having to stand on her own, learning as she went.

I will not run away, she promised in her thoughts, remembering the times she had to deal with the worst fears during her tenure in the Yamayurikai.

Once the jars were laid down carefully, the priest sprinkled them with holy water, mumbling as he performed his duty. Finally, after a brief response, the priest recited:

"Grant this mercy, O Lord, we beseech Thee, to Thy servant departed, that he may not receive in punishment the requital of his deeds who in desire did keep Thy will, and as the true faith here united him to the company of the faithful, so may Thy mercy unite him above to the choirs of angels; Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

Afterwards the priest spoke of the final petition, "May his soul and the souls of all the faithful departed through the mercy of God rest in peace." Only then he and some of the Catholic-bred mourners made the sign of the cross, marking the end of the burial.

It was nightfall by the time most of the guests and her closest friends have left Sachiko's home, except for a few who remained for many reasons. One was the family attorney, Keiichi Mizuno, who was kept on retainer for years, and hence he was also Yoko's father; another was Vincent and his security team; finally there was Yumi and Touko, who, despite being asked to come home with their families, decided to stay on to provide Sachiko emotional support, as it was going to be the young woman's first night without her parents.

In an hour, Sachiko knew that Kashiwagi would be coming from Shinjuku after spending time with his lover, the bachelor having promised her earlier to pass by for a cup of tea and small talk before going home.

Right now the young women were at the living room, taking a rest from the day's exertions, sitting on the couch, when Mizuno came walking from the kitchen after partaking some coffee. The man carried a briefcase, which he placed on the coffee table, and then he said, "Pardon me, milady, but it's time for me to present to you your grandfather's last will and testament."

Sachiko nodded as Yumi and Touko watched the lawyer open the briefcase, brought out a single folder as he sat down opposite of the girls, and took a breath.

"To begin with, months ago your grandfather had the will changed," he said.

The would-heiress blinked. "What?"

"Actually, in addition to his rather interesting language, the contents of this will was also simplified for your benefit," Mizuno admitted, and then he opened the folder and began reading.

"'To my only granddaughter, Sachiko, dutiful and faithful, having proven herself by merit and character as a mature woman worthy of the Ogasawara family name, I am bequeathing to you all of the family possessions and properties for your own use. You may see it fit how you use them, but you also have the options to divide, liquidate or dispose any of the assets if necessary and according to your needs.

'This includes the following major assets: our six leisure resorts, eight amusement parks, twelve malls and thirty of our department stores and supermarkets across Japan; some properties and lands in Honolulu, Hawaii; vacation houses in Okinawa and at Ogasawara Island; as well as the vacation house, the ancestral home in Nagano Prefecture, and this mansion;

'In addition to any minor assets, you are now in possession of 30% stake on our company, and in addition there are stocks, securities, bonds and other financial instruments made in the company name. You also now have numbered bank accounts deposited here, and in New York, London, Zurich, the Isle of Man, Liechtenstein, Bermuda, and Nassau. All are detailed in a list that's attached separately with this document. Furthermore, you also have full access to every document, legal or personal, most of which are in the vault at the penthouse in company headquarters, and the very important ones are in a personal safe at Japan Trust and Savings.

'All told, more or less, and of last count, according to our trusted accountants, these assets amount to the equivalent of six billion US dollars. That said, once you turn twenty, you will be wholly responsible for it, you will be held liable for whatever happens to this largesse, and you will have to exercise full judgment on the use of these assets; should the government asks you to pay taxes for it, or any creditors inquiring you, they must be paid for, because every debt must be paid.

'Finally, it's also up to you to find a suitable suitor of your own choice, and were I'm still around and you finally find one, I shall hold no grudge against your wishes. As for your soeurs, however, Yumi Fukuzawa and Touko Matsudaira deserve a partition of their own, should they accept it, for they have proven themselves worthy, despite these young women are not related to us by blood, and for that I thank them for helping you grow up.

'From your grandfather, Harumi Ogasawara.'"

Mizuno looked to see that Yumi and Touko were both stunned, having been named in the will. Slowly they turned to Sachiko, who was just as flabbergasted as her soeurs.

"Any questions?" the attorney asked as he set the folder aside, but he wondered what dilemma was taking place within Sachiko's mind; was she happy, elated, sad, doubtful, angry? By experience Keiichi Mizuno had come across a wide variety of heirs and heiresses, making their reactions known after listening. But with this young woman all he found on her face was complete incredulity.

"Yes," Sachiko said. "I find it unbelievable that Grandfather included two of my soeurs."

"Indeed, the last part was the codicil he requested to be included," Mizuno said, before he went back to the folder containing the will, and presented to Sachiko the hand-written version of the will, along with the codicil; she could readily recognize his hand-writing.

"As he handed me over the codicil, he said that your companions deserve much," the lawyer added.

Inwardly the staggering, immense amount of wealth that was waiting for her hit the young woman so hard that it made her feeling light-headed; she could not imagine how much six billion American dollars looked like: was it gathered in a huge pile of bundled Benjamin Franklins, or was it an ocean of yen bills, or more likely kept neatly in a pair of oversized suitcases?

Prior to the tragedy, Sachiko received a monthly allowance equivalent to US$10,000, which was still a princely sum by Yumi's standards, but typical for a scion.

As for Touko, even a small fraction of that wealth was indeed more than the country hospital she stood to gain from her grandfather years from now, yet she was moved by the unusual gesture of generosity more than being temped by the riches waiting for her.

Yumi, on the other hand, found her head spinning; it was like she won the lottery, but without the usual outburst of joy and excitement. But then her conscience quickly took over and insisted that friendships were infinitely worth more than the inheritance.

"Six billion," Sachiko mumbled almost quietly as she returned the folder to the lawyer.

"You will have it all only if you turn twenty," Mizuno said. "That's the only precondition your grandfather has set, and, well, your birthday is only a few days away, right?"

Sachiko nodded.

"For now, I'm sure you have a personal bank account from which you could get your allowance to sustain you."

"Yes, I still do," the young woman said.

"Good," Mizuno approved. "You'll have to use that for now, as I may have to arrange with the in-house accountants to begin stocktaking of everything you have, first thing in the morning. You'll have to wait, of course, and considering the dire straits you're in, I insist that while waiting you need some down time to meditate and reflect, take a rest, or do something constructive before you return to your studies. Should I arrange it with your dean?"

"No, I'll talk to him instead," Sachiko replied.

The lawyer rose from his seat, prompting the young women to stand up as well, before he said, "By the way, should you need anything else or something to suggest or talk about in connection with the will, you can call me at anytime you wish. Do you still have my calling card?"

Sachiko nodded. "Yes."

Mizuno sighed in satisfaction. "Good," he said, and then they exchanged bows. "I will be back after your birthday, milady. Thank you and good night."

"Good night, attorney," the young woman said as they watched him leave the room. Once they were left alone, Sachiko sat down on the couch and sighed.

"I feel weird," Touko said. "I don't know whether I could laugh or cry."

"Me too," Yumi chimed.

"As Mister Mizuno said, I received a monthly allowance of 730,000 yen per month," Sachiko said. "It might be so much to you two, perhaps even too much, but I actually spend a fraction of that. I mean, I'm not a spendthrift and you know how I do."

Indeed, unlike her counterparts in the same economic class, mostly the noveau riche who tend to follow the dictates of Shibuya or Paris like crazy, snapping up designer labels, or buying anything without blinking an eye, Sachiko indulged herself in very simple pleasures, dressed conservatively or casually in the same manner as her soeurs. Despite being an owner of a genuine Maserati, most of the time she took the train, the bus or taxi to bring herself anywhere in the city.

But six billion dollars, or considering the rather unfavorable current exchange rate, four hundred thirty-eight billion yen, was still an insane amount, and Sachiko realized it would take much effort to effectively manage this fortune on her own. She was nobody's fool or spendthrift, and the young woman made a mental note that she would like to talk to the chief company accountant the next day. In fact, it dawned upon Sachiko that to deal with this wealth on a day-to-day basis would require the effort of many men and women, people she needed to gain their trust and to rely on, hence she'll have to draw on her Yamayurikai experiences on how to deal with people outside her circle.

Overall, Sachiko felt more like Atlas in which she'll have to bear the immense burden that was about to be foisted upon her shoulders, and more than ever the world suddenly became a difficult place, and therefore she was on her own now.

Dear God, Sachiko mumbled that thought inwardly, not knowing that in the hours and the days to come she would be facing greater challenges – and dangers – coming out of nowhere, and the first feeling she gained was that of dizziness, caused by the overwhelming wealth and responsibility awaiting her.

I'm not sure if I'm indeed ready for all of that, she thought.

"Yumi, Touko," she finally said, breaking the silence. "I need to take a rest… I don't feel well."

Somewhere, at the other side of the city, one could hear metal striking metal, as magazines full of bullets were slotted into submachine gun wells, the slides of pistols clicking into place; one could smell cigarette smoke, a mixture of cologne and body odor, and the fragment of exhaust pipes; and one could feel the slight warmth of the van's heater as it circulated around and above the heads of the hard men dispatched to wreak havoc and kill, to leave nothing intact but embers and ashes.

And further out, in a tall building in a distant country, someone was waiting, eagerly anticipating for the news of the possible demise of Sachiko Ogasawara.

He was waiting for her to die, in exchange for the death of many of his kin.

Author's Notes: When writing a continuity fiction story, long after a book has concluded, it takes much to contemplate how the plot goes. Furthermore, it also requires me to get into the shoes of the characters and try to feel their five senses. Finally it takes much time and research; whereas my other work, Light and Water, delves into an alternate-universe Japan and thus allows for some changes in that setting, Nineteen deals with the real world, necessitating more detail to get as close as possible to walk the same corridors and breathe in the same air as our girls do.

I apologize that I have taken too long to provide a new chapter, but I'll try to update this story if possible, now that I decided to give Light and Water a momentary "break" (before I would write its concluding season) and try to give this and another fic more time and attention.

Thank you.