Signing the last of the paperwork, Jinpachi pushed his chair away from his desk and looked out the floor to ceiling windows of his office. The brightly lit streets of Tokyo sparkled beneath him, creating a colorful nighttime landscape of neon signs and electric billboards. God, he was tired. As the zaibatsu continued to expand, he delighted in its progress but the amount of work it created was becoming overwhelming for one man. Though he'd been reluctant to do so, he was forced to assign Heihachi a progressively larger role in the management of the business. To his astonishment, his son had taken to the work quite well, even surprising him by exceeding his expectations. Jinpachi was ambivalent about the fact that his son was actually proving himself to be a shrewd businessman, simultaneously pleased, suspicious and proud. Heihachi had even left off pursuing his sexual conquests, choosing instead to focus all of his time on his work.
Looking behind him, he saw the photo of himself and Kazuya that he had kept on his desk since his disappearance. He was three when the picture was taken. Seeing the smiling face of his grandson, he wondered if he would even recognize Kazuya if he were to see him on the street. The boy would be sixteen now. Did he blame him for failing to protect him? Was he angry that he had to live in hiding, afraid for his life? Running his fingers over his face under the glass, he suddenly missed Kazuya greatly. The last eleven years had been busy, but incredibly lonely for him. Setting the photo back in its place, he put on his suit jacket and turned the light off in his office. As he had stayed late, Hiroko had already gone and the building was deserted save for the security guard he waved goodnight to. The only thought he had now was how much he needed to sleep.
On the other side of town, Heihachi was just beginning his evening, entertaining some new business prospects in an upscale lounge in Roppongi. "Yamasawa-san," he greeted his prospective client, "so good of you to join me." Indicating the seat across from him in the private VIP room, he called a cocktail waitress over the intercom and ordered the most expensive sake in the house. "Warm, please," he specified. Turning back to his guest, he smiled and said, "I thought you would find our meeting more pleasant if we had some company."
The older gentleman's face mirrored his smile as two girls who looked as if they could be no more than thirteen walked through the door and pranced over to their couches. Their hair tied back in pigtails, they wore their middle school uniforms and leggings as if they had just gotten out of class with the exception of the fact that the waists of the skirts had been rolled up, shortening the hems, and their shirts had been cropped, baring their flat bellies. The skirts were so short that the navy blue bloomers that schoolgirls usually wore during gym class could be seen peeking out from underneath the pleats. Giggling, they bowed and said "Irashaimaseh!" in unison. Without waiting to be asked, they sat on either side of Heihachi's guest and hooked their arms through his. The lecherous grin on his face confirmed that Heihachi's intuition about his pedophilic tendencies was correct. The girls were actually seventeen, but he didn't need to know that, as he appeared to be enjoying himself.
"You really know how to make a person feel at home, Mishima-san," Yamasawa beamed, never taking his eyes off the jailbait flanking him.
Pouring him a cup of the sake, Heihachi handed it to him with both hands. "I look forward to a long and prosperous business relationship with you and your associates. I trust you will find my terms more than fair."
Taking the sake, he titled his head back and drained it. "Pour me another, little girl," he ordered, holding out his cup. Smiling, she dutifully did as he asked. "I like your style, Mishima-san, and your sharp nose for business. I am certain that with the financial cooperation of the Mishima zaibatsu that this venture will bring many great returns for both of us." He lifted his cup in a toast to his host.
"You honor me with such undue praise," Heihachi returned genially. "To our partnership."
After a few hours of drinks and conversation, Yamasawa, who was now more than a little drunk, enthusiastically groped one of the girls as he slurred, "One thing I don't understand, Mishima-san. Your father was always so resistant to investing in weapons technology. Why now does he change his mind?" He ended his sentence with a pointed hiccup, causing the girls to titter.
"My father's way of doing business is archaic, a relic of a bygone era," he explained. "As the successor to his business, I plan to lay the ground roots to steer the Mishima zaibatsu in a more modern direction. To the strong go the spoils and my father must learn to be less…squeamish about his investments." He smiled conspiratorially. "Leave everything to me. In the meantime, I request that we keep our dealings out of plain site to, shall we say, give him time to make the adjustment?"
Understanding his innuendo, the man laughed and held up his glass again. "To a long and profitable partnership," he toasted. Raising his own cup, Heihachi bowed and drank. Now that their deal had been cemented, Yamasawa turned his full attention to the two teens. Heihachi had taken great care in his choice of entertainment, scanning the local talent until he found two that he knew would be perfect for his guest. Having an inkling of his tastes, he had been specific in his instructions to the girls on how to dress and had even thrown in an extra added touch to ensure that Yamasawa was pleased. Clumsily pulling off the first girl's bloomers, he sharply sucked in his breath with a hiss when he exposed her bare mons. Waxed, of course, but he didn't know that. Pulling out a Polaroid camera, he snapped a few quick shots in case they might prove useful later. Fanning the photo, he smirked when the photo of Yamasawa with his tongue buried in the girl's smooth lips came into exposure.
The other girl watched them, a lewd smile on her freckled face. About to push his finger on the shutter button, he lowered the camera and studied her for a moment. Unable to shake the vague feeling that he had seen her somewhere before, he tried to place where he could have met her but his mind continued to come up blank. As Yamasawa began to paw open her legs, Heihachi snapped a few more photos, deciding not to worry about it just then.
When the paper had exited the camera, he again fanned it to speed the exposure. Examining the girl's face closely, it finally dawned on him why she looked so familiar. In the photo that he had just taken, her face looked almost identical to the photos he had seen of his deceased mother. The resemblance was uncanny. It was almost as if his mother had been preserved in time for all those years. His intense scrutiny of her features was interrupted by the loud moaning from the couch and he glanced up from the picture to see his mother's doppleganger mounted atop Yamasawa's erect penis while her counterpart rocked back on forth on his mouth as he licked her with relish. Taking a few more photos, he waited until they were all completely dry and discreetly tucked them in the inside pocket of his jacket as the two girls screamed in unison as they came. Grunting like an animal, Yamasawa ejaculated with a loud groan and promptly passed out. Breathing heavily, the girls both crumpled on top of his unconscious bulk, his semen running down the inside of the look-alike's leg.
Watching the spent group, an interesting idea began to form in his mind. Leaving a large tip for the waitress, he paid the bill and requested that his guest be seen back safely to his hotel. Leaving the first girl still collapsed on his face, Heihachi grabbed the second one by the arm and dragged her into his car, not bothering to put her underwear on. Slumping against the seat, she continued to grin inanely, her fluids leaking onto the expensive leather of the seat. "Clean yourself up," he ordered gruffly, tossing her a handkerchief. Without even looking up, she lifted a leg and mopped up the mess. "Did you have a good time tonight?"
Nodding with satisfaction, she murmured lazily, "Yesssss."
"What's your name, girl?"
"Misano," she purred. She stretched lazily against the seat exposing a long expanse of tummy.
"And what do you do for money, little Misano-chan?"
She narrowed her eyes and opened her legs a little more. "I think you know," she teased, rubbing her freshly waxed skin suggestively. "Did you want to fuck my little cunt, too? I still have some energy left."
Heihachi grinned. Not only was she a spirited one, she was obviously extremely kinky as well, which was perfect for the scheme he had in mind. "Utskushi Misano-chan, how would you like to make a million yen?" he asked.
Though his offer piqued her interest, Misano still looked at him suspiciously. "How would I not? But what's the catch, mister?"
So she was crafty too. This could prove to be a problem. "Just a few things. I need you to pose as someone else in order to seduce an enemy of mine." Tilting his head to one side he added, "He's almost sixty, and you'll have to have sex with him – often, the more the better, but if you can trick him into falling in love with you, during this whole process, I'll give you an apartment, cover all your expenses and when this is over, you'll get a million yen, hard cash."
"Why are you offering me this generous deal?" she asked dubiously.
Playing to her vanity he answered, "Because your particular look is one that I know he won't be able to resist. It won't be all fun and games though. I'll have to train you to completely look and act the part of his dream girl and I will require your services for at least a full year in order to properly implement this charade. Also, and this is of the utmost importance – you cannot reveal that you are at all connected to me in any way." Leaning back in his seat, he lit a cigarette and took a leisurely drag. "So, Misano-chan, are you interested in my offer?" He lazily blew out three perfect smoke rings as he waited for her response.
A bored expression on her face, the girl shrugged. "Yeah, why the fuck not?"
"Excellent," he said with approval. Her lack of class would require attending to, though. Dropping her off at the nearest street corner, her eyes flashed greedily as he handed her a stack of bills. "A little incentive," he leered as she eagerly snatched the money out of his hands. The little harlot began counting it right in front of him. "Be at this clinic tomorrow morning," he instructed her after writing down an address. "9 AM sharp, and I dislike tardiness."
"What for?" she asked tartly, still fingering the money.
"Don't ask so many questions, little girl," he said silkily. "I consider myself to be a very tolerant man, but even my vast reserves of patience have limitations." The threatening undercurrent of his voice was not lost on Misano and she felt a momentary chill race down her spine and began to wonder what she had gotten herself into. "Tomorrow at nine," he repeated. "Get some rest, Misano-chan." Rolling up his window, he ordered his driver home. This was going to be so much more fun than the every day run-of-the-mill coup. It would mean putting off the takeover for another year, but the pleasure he would get when his plan came into fruition would be more than worth it. As of late, he'd been so busy with work, it had left him little time to indulge his sadistic urges, but as he'd, he had discovered that being patient in the beginning could bring even more satisfying torture to his victims. "Chichueh, you are undone," he murmured sarcastically before breaking into laughter.
irashaimaseh: welcome
utskushi: lovely
chichueh: father, extremely formal, usually reserved for royalty
