THE PASSING WIND
-TheSilentReader-
CHAPTER 16:
Kashiwagi's pitch-black hair and light tan complexion shone even though the dark tint of the sedan filtered the sunlight from the outside. Yumi watched him once more as he sat and looked at outside his window without a single movement.
It was now late afternoon.
They were heading to her old place, the gallery, because she was being summoned to discuss an important matter. Sei mentioned before she left Kashiwagi's compound about the summons, and went ahead before Yumi. Kashiwagi joined her later.
She did not realize that they were already in the gallery; Shimata already opened the door of the car for them yet Yumi still felt that she could not move. It had not been a long time since she went here—it has been her haven for almost four years, yet she felt foreign coming back. Maybe, it was the dread that she would see her old painting of Sachiko hanging on the wall as replacement for The Passing Wind. And indeed, when Kashiwagi prompted her to move, with sudden nudge on her unsuspecting shoulder or his hand on her back, she felt a little relieved to move on. When they passed to the east wing, the Nihonga section, she could not help but glance at Sachiko—the unpolished image of her. She wore her guilt in front of Kashiwagi, who somehow understood her and smirked: yes, she was quite a closet pervert in her university days. Yumi making something like that.
Sachiko was crazy to show that to the whole world. Her purpose, whatever it was, was still an enigma. Wow, she is stupid—a trait Yumi would never associate to Sachiko.
Hinomura, her boss, was surprised when he saw Kashiwagi with Yumi. The painter resumed covering her ears as Kashiwagi and Hinomura discussed Yumi's performance with the Kinomoto paintings. (So, Hinomura knew that the paintings belonged to the Kinomoto's?) Kashiwagi discussed the matter as if it were never a secret; maybe he trusted Hinomura that much. After what happened in Kyoto with Hinomura's father, her old professor and mentor, she was still surprised on how that bastard's son was so different from him. The man that she almost fell for even after she vowed herself never to love someone after Sachiko.
Sachiko—her mind wandered further away; Sachiko—she was always the standard. After her, little seemed to matter. But then, Yumi sulked as she remembered: damn her.
"Fukuzawa-kun?" Kashiwagi's voice interrupted her.
This was when she found her brother and Yoshino at the door, the former closing it. She realized that it was about her missing painting. Then she heard Kashiwagi once more, "I need to go, Yumi, since this doesn't concern me. I shall wait for you outside."
Yumi looked at him levelly, "No, thanks. But I'll see you later then."
Kashiwagi stared at her a second longer, but replied rather flatly, "Alright."
Yoshino and Yuuki, who were watching the exchange, thought without restraint the reason why Yumi was not showing irritation at the mention of her name in an unprofessional way. Yuuki bowed to his sempai as he walked through the door but his eyes remain focused and unmoving, darting Kashiwagi a questioning look. The latter ignored it. Yoshino, however, took a step and bowed to Hinomura.
Only four people were in the room.
"Fukuzawa-kun, I know we summoned you in such a short notice, but in respect for your efforts in this gallery, we intend to make this announcement as acceptable to you." Upon hearing this from Hinomura, Yoshino braced herself. Yuuki and she knew about this, but they had no choice about the matter. It was not their call. "I'm afraid I need to call the search for your painting is discontinued."
Yoshino jerked to look at Yumi to gauge her outburst, but she found Yumi to be calm. Even though Yumi's hands were balling into fists in her pockets. Yet, Hinomura seemed unaware of Yumi's fury emanating just from her firsts. "You seem not surprised, Fukuzawa," came Hinomura's words with genuine concern.
"Why should I?"
Yuuki interrupted. "Everything that we do leads to a dead-end. We have tried our hardest; the police department took every measure to identify a clue from what the witnesses and suspects had been saying and the gathered evidence, but everything leads to a dead-end."
Yoshino, feeling that Yumi needed further explanation, decided to interfere, "The insurance company decided to just stop looking for it, and just secure the insurance covered for it. Satou-san took care of—"
"Fine. Chief, is this all I need to know?" Yumi asked nicely.
"Yes, Yumi-san. I'm sorry I could not keep my promise." Hinomura replied.
"Can't be helped. Am I dismissed?"
"Yes."
Then, Yumi headed out for the door.
Yoshino eyed Hinomura and gave him an incredulous look. Her irritation to Yumi's reaction was emanating in her tired features—she fought tooth and nail against her superiors and Hinomura to continue the search. Yuuki was with Yoshino's side, but his slightest hesitation got the best of him, that soon he folded to his superior's orders. In other words, Yoshino's predictions came true—Yumi's work was not perpetually a matter of importance. There are many things in life to consider; why would they waste their time for a painting?
She grunted. Hinomura noticed her irritation. "You know my intentions, Shimazu-kun."
"I know; I know. I hear you. Insurance is insurance."
Sei, where are you. Where the fuck are you?
Yumi rushed to Sei's office and found it empty. The papers messily piled on her table and floor were gone. Pencils used as darts sticking upon the ceiling were gone; instead, they were neatly arranged in a can at the shelf behind Sei's table. The air was devoid of musty, saturated, old specks of dust. Paintings were dusted. The completely stuffy office was cleaned.
When she asked for Sei, the secretary told her that she had not reported today. Sei's mobile phone was unattended.
She didn't like this.
Where are you, Sei? Where are you to explain things properly?
Yoshino and Yuuki both walked out and found Yumi looking at Sachiko's portrait. She looked unruffled, but when she noticed the two walking around, she gave them a bored smirk. Yoshino would rather find Yumi in a fit of disappointment and sadness, but she gave the Yoshino a nonchalant glare. How could one produce a nonchalant glare?
Yoshino said. "I'm sorry."
"I know this time will come. But still, I just can't believe that this trash of an unsigned painting replaced The Passing Wind. How . . . amusing. You remember Yuuki," his sister looked at him coyly, "back when we stood in front of this wall, when it used to be blank? I prefer it that way."
Yoshino noticed Yuuki's neck muscles constricted. She noticed how the investigation mattered to the police officer, yet all they were hearing from the painter was indifferent remarks. They knew that they've tried really hard. Yuuki, however, was thinking of the very same scene Yumi described: Just get my stuff back where it belongs. I'm busy.
Yuuki scowled at her sister, "We have no choice. The police gave up; the gallery gave up."
Yumi seemed not to notice the heat in her brother's eyes. "Finally, you agreed with me."
Yoshino looked at Yumi incredulously. Couldn't she see why Yuuki was like this? He did not give this job up. He tried his best to continue because he knew that the painting is very important to you. He tried even though he knew searching for it was futile from day one. It was a hopeless case, but he did try. Couldn't she, at least, appreciate that?
Yoshino was beginning to itch to have the old Yumi back.
The male Fukuzawa gritted once more; he was still not done with her sister. "So, is it always about that? You never moved on. You kept that painting to yourself because it retains what you are now. You painted your hatred to that piece, and awe on it. Do you think everyone would want you to be like that forever? Touko may have accepted that, but I don't. You are destroying yourself."
Yumi scowled. "Do not give reasons because you fail, Yuuki."
"Sometimes, I just hope that painting's burned to ashes. So that you'd forget your petty attachment." Yuuki muttered as he stalked away to the hallway.
Yoshino glared at Yumi, who was now walking away to her old office. She hollered. "He is just concerned about you. Do you think he liked what his superiors told him? Do you think he wants to end this?"
"No, I don't."
"Then why are you provoking everyone?!" Yoshino asked friskly.
Yumi just walked away, not even considering that Yoshino was behind her.
Yumi was not even inside her workroom in the gallery when she smelled a waft of expensive perfume in the air, almost battling against the dominant odor of turpentine and glue. She hurriedly strode inside, and found that her office was empty, just like how she left it months ago. Still the rose-scented perfume was still hanging in the air. Yoshino, who was behind her, stopped at the scent. She immediately thought that this was not the good time for them to meet, but when she saw Yumi opened the door of her workroom, she found Sachiko standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by canvases that were facing the walls.
Fukuzawa Yumi's unfinished businesses.
"What are you doing here?" Yumi immediately demanded from the woman.
Two days ago
"I need to leave now, Yumi. Hinomura-san is already waiting for me in the gallery." Sei said, after a day of staying in Yumi's workroom. She was already upon the slide doors. "You are needed in Musashino two days from now. I've spoken to Kashiwagi-san about it. I hope you won't forget that."
Yumi fought the urge to ask her about her painting for a day, tumbling into series of phrases that would lead Sei to mention The Passing Wind in one of their threads of conversation. It proved to be difficult—she noticed the twinkle of amusement in Sei's eyes, which signaled her pride to force back the question. Most of the day, Sei just watch her restore the Setsuna painting, sprinkling little praises for the painter here and there—sometimes teasing Yumi to try harder to be at par with the unknown painter—but Yumi just ignored them. Yes, she was truly amazed on how the Kinomoto family saturated their talent generation by generation.
(Sei had been skewering Yumi's faults of being unable to produce a finished art for two years).
Too bad—Yumi reckoned—it all ended with Setsuna.
Yumi finally asked, while she was tending on the Setsuna painting: "Sei, what happening with Yuuki and Yoshino's search?"
Sei replied quickly, "They had no idea of where it is. They had been going on circles. Instead, they were just digging things that were buried to the ground a long time ago, nothing leading to it."
Yumi's eyes narrowed at the shadow of Sei's form elongated on the tatami mats of her workroom. She settled her brushes down and removed the multiple lenses on her eyes. "How do you know, Sei? I don't think Yuuki would be too open with you about his search; Yoshino might have given you the info, then?"
Yumi heard Sei giggled faintly. "You're right."
She then stood from her stool and removed her gadgets from her person, then her apron. She grabbed on a clean towel from a table and cleaned her hands and arms. Then she went outside the room, leaving Sei upon the door. Yumi smirked, "Come on, I'll show you out the compound. That's the least I can do."
They were walking side by side, Sei towering Yumi. The former White Rose looked at her little kouhai, and remembered the times when she would looked down at Fukuzawa Yumi with a smile on her face—a calm, unhurried face—and small trot by her energetic petite legs. Now, she was looking at Yumi's smug grin and dead, half-closed eyes—every step of her feet weighed heavily. Sei was a hypocrite, and she knew it.
"We should tell Kashiwagi-san that you're leaving." Yumi advised, as they turned at another hallway.
It was not an unusual suggestion, but Sei still raised a brow at the recognition of Kashiwagi's name. "You don't have to. He doesn't care when I leave. Leave him be, Yumi."
Yumi copied the same expression.
When they were already at the tall wooden walls surrounding the compound, Yumi stood at the gates to bid farewell to her good friend.
"Before, when you learned that you were going to Kyoto, you were terrified, even just the thought of it. It reminded you of Hinomura-sensei and his treachery, but most of your fears centered on Sachiko's leaving you. It's not the place, but what happened there. Everyone tampered on your trust. But now, you seemed not to care about Kyoto anymore. You just get used to it, and you forget. Maybe because you spent most of your time here in the compound." Sei said.
Sei stood near Yumi and gently kissed the skin at the side of the painter's mouth.
Yumi was astonished. She could not move in her spot, stiffly planted on the ground. She could not think of a reason Sei would do such a thing. They were not high school students anymore—and such gesture from both of them is an awkward welcome. She could have considered it as a playful kiss, but when she looked at her eyes, she saw nothing of a teasing Sei.
"I'll remain loyal to you, no matter what happens. I'll be seeing you."
She did not realize Sei was already walking away in the sunset without explanations.
In the evening, Kashiwagi resumed to his usual spot in the hallway, again sipping another cup of hot tea. Yumi was a little annoyed with his return; a few days off of his presence here and she thought that it would be a long time before she could get used to his absence, but now, what she did not predicted pissed her off. Yeah, the aroma of tea would stick once more in her workroom's air. Damn it, she hates being wrong.
During the course of her intricate restoration of the first tenths of Setsuna's painting, she was frequently bothered by a stare from the outside of her workroom; she found out that Kashiwagi was a little bit attached to the painting, watching the painting losing chipped paint and being sliced by ex-acto knives. In the second hour in this night shift, she spat out in her annoyance, "Yo, Kashiwagi, you know what? I can stop working this baby, leave you alone with it the whole night, rather than staring at it through my back as if you were aiming with a sniper's scope. I can't concentrate with you spying around. Jesus."
"Something off?" Kashiwagi was caught, but he did not allow Yumi to notice.
"Just an exhausting day." She answered. When his response was just a loud slurping sip from his tea, Yumi's head jerked off and faced him. "Why did you not tell me Sei was coming over?"
He looked at her quizzically, "You know how she is; she likes to give herself flashy entrances."
Yumi remembered how Sei reacted before when Yumi talked about Kashiwagi and his obsession with the Kinomoto paintings back at the Ginkaku-ji, when Sei and Yoshino was around Kyoto. She noticed how Sei's gray eyes darken in amusement when she remarked on Kashiwagi's dealings, as if Sei were remembering a private joke between her and him. Yumi overlooked this before.
(Why does she feel this creepy thought that the world is really smaller than she thought?)
"And you allowed that. My first impression of you is that you don't like it when people just loiter around your place without you knowing their every move. But you let her in." She grunted. "Suddenly I feel that you know her more than I think I know."
"Why do you think so?"
"You were sizing me up, even before, Kashiwagi-san. Just like what you did when Touma came here for an overdue picnic. You challenged me to into them. Is that to make fun of me, or do you have noble intentions behind that?"
She just heard a slurp.
She heard Kashiwagi stood up from his seat outside the hallway; he went inside her workroom—the aroma of a freshly prepared tea saturating as he walked. He handed down a cup of tea to Yumi's side and the latter accepted it. "Touma Ryu and Sachiko really angered you. And Satou Sei's appearance made you remember them." Kashiwagi supplied.
"Because she knows everything. Which I suspect that you do, too. Ne, what else do you know about my life?"
He looked at her, and from the look on his face, he was weighing words to be said by his mouth. He said slowly, "Do you know why I am always here every evening sipping tea?"
"To piss me off?" Yumi answered coolly. She resumed on her work, and responded with a hoarse voice and bleak interest. "Or fuck me, maybe? That's what I thought after you kissed me days ago. No, when you did a fucked-up alternation of a confession before that. Waiting for the right moment? Honestly, I don't take you as a romantic type. You're rough, aren't you, baby?" She paused to gulp on her cooling tea and then drove back to her work.
"You talk about sex like the weather and news." He appeared not surprised by her explanations. "I thought we agreed never to bring it up again."
Yumi replied flatly. "It's as natural as the weather and the news." Another question unanswered.
He appeared offended. "You are confusing."
Yumi felt Kashiwagi's gaze upon the painting. She ignored him, trying not to look at his face more than she should. A memory resurfaced and reminded herself not to be too distracted—she remembered that she once consider him a good figure model. A sketch of him would not be so bad, she remembered herself thinking that, but she never had the opportunity to extract a prologing motivation to do so. She remembered the face he wore when he inspected the decrepit paintings during her first days of stay in the compound, and she admired how he was possessive with them. Just by watching.
Again, the question: What makes him so attached to the Kinomoto's?
Kashiwagi asked abruptly. "Why did Touma Sachiko left you?"
Yumi recovered without breaking the brush she was holding. "A while ago you accused me of being rude."
"Just answer the question." He snapped.
"It's not your fucking business." She answered quickly.
Suguru said, "Few days after we came back from Musashino, one of my men noticed a man upon the west wall of the compound, walking around the area. He had this uncanny habit of wearing a fedora hat. On the first day, he loitered along the elevated woodlands just near the wall. On the second day, he rented a room near a coffee shop that he used to meet another man for a chat. On the third day, he was gone. I was about to dismiss the man's movements when a few days later, he appeared once more. I was sipping tea outside and I could see his fedora hat sitting on his head as he watched us. More so, when the Touma Ryu came for a visit. Few days ago, I told Shimata that I'm done with him."
(Done with him?)
He noticed a curious worry in Yumi's face. "I confronted him. I was able to convince him to run an errand for me: to return to his master. He was spying on you."
"Who is his master?"
"Ogasawara Kyouichii. Why is he after you?"
Ogasawara Kyouichii. Ogasawara. She realized she knew the correct answer.
Anger was boiling in her once again. She did not notice the ex-acto knife she was holding and in her struggle to bottle up her emotion, she cut the middle finger of her right hand. She felt the sting in her finger and grumbled a sharp expletive.
Suguru noticed her distress. He immediately put down the tea he was holding and crouched near Yumi, trying to take hold of her right arm. When Yumi pulled her hand away in surprise ("I can take care of this."), Suguru asked her, "Do not move. Do you have a clean towel?"
Yumi looking around the room for anything that could stop the bleeding, but she grunted; no clean towel. He rolled his eyes and frowned. Drops of blood splattered on the tatami mat.
"Put your finger to your mouth."
"Are you kidding me?! The blood—"
"What an idiot. Give me your finger." He held her wrist and took half of the injured digit to his mouth.
She sat rigid as she felt saliva soaking her broken skin. When she felt that it was not bleeding anymore, Kashiwagi took his cup of warm tea and released her finger to dip it to the liquid. Then, he settled the cup on the tatami mat with the finger submerged.
He went outside and the room and spat out the built saliva from his mouth. He then ordered, "Don't take the wound out until I come back."
He came back with a first-aid kit. He tended on the wound while Yumi just watched her hand. While Suguru was tearing gauze, he asked, "Why is he after you?"
She felt intense pain as the clean-cut flesh rub against each other. She flinched as Suguru held her hand. "Don't act like an idiot; you know it. His grandfather and Sachiko—they're at it again. I knew it."
"What are you going to do about it?"
She looked at her wound and dismissed the pain. "Ignore it while I can. You should have told me sooner. Sachiko doesn't understand that I don't want her around; this is the reason."
Kashiwagi narrowed his eyes. "It's all about his family, Fukuzawa-san." He fastened the gauze. "He does everything to protect it. It means that you may be a threat to him. I will make sure he doesn't bother you anymore."
Present Day
"What are you doing here?"
There was more to Kashiwagi Suguru that she remembered his words.
Yoshino almost tumbled through the door as she heard Yumi shouted. This never looked good. Yoshino asked Sachiko to meet her; she just was not expecting the heiress loitering around Yumi's workroom. For an intelligent woman like Sachiko, she was stupid enough to know that she was Yumi's landmine never to be stepped on. And she was here, at the cradle of Yumi's disappointments. "Shit shit shit . . ." Yoshino whispered.
She should have not called for the meeting here at the gallery. But what was done was done. Yoshino had to suffer Yumi's wrath again. She braved out, "She came with me."
Confusion clouded Sachiko's eyes but hid it well. Yoshino noticed Yumi suddenly backing away to the door. She looked at Sachiko with contempt, but she—what is this —does she see sympathy in Yumi's eyes?
"Do not—stay away from me." Yumi clenched.
In time, Yoshino shut the door of the workroom. None of what would transpire today will go out beyond its walls. "Stay put, Yumi."
"Who do you think—?"
"I said stay put, Yumi." Yoshino ordered. She heaved paint-smelling air, and continued, "She came here for you."
Yoshino knew that Yumi decided this was a trap. The painter's glare was slicing her already but she did not respond to the question. Instead, she remained silent.
"It is not too late. I'm here to help."
Yumi snapped. "I don't need your help. And besides, our little Miss Sherlock here said that it is a lost cause."
Sachiko pursued, "There will always be other ways to look for it."
"No, Sachiko. I will never turn to you." Yoshino's grip to the doorknob became tighter as she heard Yumi's replied calmly; her voice thick and grim. Yoshino blanched. Again, Yumi was shelling herself. "Or to anyone now. That painting . . . is a reminder for me, Sachiko. I can make another one; I can do that. Another replica. Besides, I still have inspiration to do it."
"Yumi-san, do not think of the worst."
Yumi raised her palm to stop Sachiko. "No. It's just that I don't trust you. I don't trust that your help will just be out of your good heart and not a disguise for a favor or a deal from the devil."
"Why would I do that?"
"Then what will you gain from helping me? My trust? Our friendship? Nothing. No one does that nowadays. If the painting were found, what should I do in return? Do I owe now the Ogasawara family?"
Sachiko tried, "My family—"
"You can never help me by yourself. You will always depend on the power of your family to be able to move."
Sachiko glared at Yumi, taking offense on Yumi's words. "Do not include my family or anyone in this."
Yumi rumbled, "They are always on my back whenever I am with you! Don't you understand? Whenever you are with me, the shadow of your grandfather will always be there! Ever since you came back, he does nothing but to watch me! He does nothing but to watch you fail and punish everyone because of it. He does nothing but to torment everyone I hold dear!"
"What?"
Yumi's look away from Sachiko. "He sent someone to watch me ever since we came back to Kyoto after the party. He must have known that you've tried to see me, and he watched how you've tried to settle things between us. If it not for Kashiwagi-san, I would never realize, that ever since then, your grandfather just loves keeping you to himself.
"Everything that you do, the weight of your family is always behind you. Everything that is between us is always your family. Your grandfather is always watching you; he manipulates just to place you to where he thinks you belong. You know that from the start and you've done nothing to change it.
"You are his slave. You will never release yourself from them; your family will never set you free. I thought you never liked to be chained, but deep inside you loved being in a leash. No, you love being your grandfather's center of attention. You love that you rile him. You love being his disappointment."
Yoshino gasped when Ogasawara Sachiko, the ever-calm princess of the Ogasawara Group, slapped Fukuzawa Yumi in front of her. Yet Yumi did not flinch at the contact; her face was cool, as if she were expecting it.
Sachiko shook. She touched the hand that hurt Yumi, gripped it to stop it from fidgeting, as if it were possessed. Why did I slap her? No—I would never do that. I'd never do that . . . never . . . never . . . .
When she looked at Yumi and found the latter showing her nothing. Sachiko said dejectedly, "You truly know me, Yumi. Even after all these years, you can still read my heart."
This is why I hate seeing you. For I know your true intention. Yumi thought as she endured the pain on her cheek in feigned indifference.
Yumi's small flinch was not unnoticed by the woman standing before the door.
Sachiko evenly said as she straightened herself. "I will look for it, with or without your permission. I will bring it back to you. This is all I can do as your grande seour."
Yoshino opened the door for Sachiko.
She was lost the moment she slapped Yumi. She knew that somehow, her grandfather would extend his limbs just so he could push Yumi away from her. Just like what he did before. Of what he ordered her to do. What Yumi said was true—no, there was more to that—they both want to torment each other.
She was thankful that he had done nothing perilious. She was thankful Kashiwagi was there. She would make sure Ogasawara Kyouichii would know Touma Sachiko had been stretched too tightly. This would not go overlooked.
But now, this is not about her and her grandfather anymore. She made her choices in the past; she accepted it. She has the present as her hope. And she will not give up on that. To walk to the arms of her present and future.
She walked away from the gallery. She needed to talk to Kashiwagi Suguru.
The atmosphere in Yumi's workroom dropped as Yoshino remained quiet as Yumi stood in the middle of the room. Time ticked as both of them tried not to react to what transpired between Yumi and Sachiko a while ago. Yoshino wanted to follow the Ogasawara heiress outside to see her condition, but she decided not to. Yoshino was now convinced that Yumi was much more of a problem than she was.
Yoshino warned. "That was too low."
"Eventually she has to hear it."
"From you? Last time I check you don't have the right to say that to her." Yoshino tried not to shout.
"It's not about me having that right. It is about her being a real bother. It is about shoving the truth to her face." Yumi failed to produce a smirk. That effort alone raged Yoshino.
She walked towards Yumi. "The truth?" Yoshino tried to control her anger by balling her hands to fists. "Do you want me to tell you what I think?"
"Try me."
"You always think about yourself."
"Is that a bad thing?"
Do not shout. It does not do anything. "Yumi, what do you really want? Do you want it to be found or not? Because you are not helping. You did not even take a portion of your time to look for it! Instead, you behaved as if it wasn't important to you. Then, I'd see you like this, turning away from everyone when they did not meet your expectations? What about you, have you even tried? What are you? What happened to you?"
Motherf—this again! Yumi said, "What—is this about the old Yumi again? I am tired of you—"
Yoshino shouted back. "Yes, this is about you! That fucking old you! I tried to know you again, to understand you, of whatever happened to you, but you are getting out of hand. You act as if you had the most horrible past. You act as if God had abandoned you, that everyone abandoned you. You act as if the whole world turned against you! You don't want to be pitied, but here you are, parading yourself as if you lost all your arms in a war. As if you've lost everything. This is not about Sachiko leaving you. Not anymore. You should have not given yourself up with just this one failure! Sachiko is not what defines your whole life! You are more than just Sachiko!"
So much for restraining herself from shouting.
Yoshino noticed Yumi was shaking in anger: her jaw stiff, her teeth baring out and biting her lower lips, her hands clenching. Yumi was looking downward trying not to look at Yoshino's eyes. Still, Yoshino did not care a shit anymore, whether her name would appear in Yumi's black list. She was determined to knock pettiness and immaturity out of her friend. She felt that Yumi stunted herself ever since Sachiko left her.
Yumi should have moved on. She should have forgiven Sachiko, regardless of what she had done. She should have looked to the future with her usual cheerfulness. She should have hurdled through these petty trials. She should have braved herself. She used to be like that. She was more than this.
She was more than this.
"Ever since you turn yourself like this, you love the attention people are giving to you. You love how they try hard to earn your trust. And you love to play them to your bidding, to reach out to you, then shove them away." Yoshino fought not to free her tears. If ever she sound and looked heartless, she didn't care. Yumi should taste her own medicine. "This is you being such an immature, phony, cowardly whore."
Yumi bawled throatily and slapped Yoshino. In bitter anger, Yoshino heaved, drew out her fist, and punched Yumi squarely on her left cheek—the same cheek that Sachiko slapped.
Yumi staggered backward and Yoshino took her chance to push Yum backward. Yumi fell on her behind and Yoshino held her to the ground, fearing that Yumi would retaliate with punches.
Yoshino's fist was readied, her other forearm defending her front if ever Yumi would attack. The painter, however, gave up when she saw Yoshino's white knuckles positioned. "When do you want us to save you from yourself?" A hoarse whisper came. "When will you want yourself to be saved?"
Yoshino was crying—her vision blurred—and Yumi could not look at her.
Yumi froze and blurted a violent "Tsk." Of course Yumi knew her faults. It was already too long a time since she allowed ignoring herself before others. Now, it would be just herself she'd care about.
Selfish, she is. But she did have her choices, she just chose the easiest way.
Yumi smirked, unafraid of the poised fist hanging just above her head. "Do you think this is old news to me?"
Yoshino's face was hardened even in tears. "No, it's not. And it's not new to you that your friends tried to drill the truth to you. They just got tired of reminding you what you were. I have all night, Yumi. I can keep up with your bullshit until you break." Yoshino said, anticipating vengeful reprisal. But she kept her head high, not fazed by fear.
Yumi pushed Yoshino away. "You don't understand!"
"Yeah, I don't understand your pain. But I expected that you'd be so much mature than I'll ever be, but you disappoint me. You're supposed to be ahead . . ."
Yumi direct a finger against Yoshino's chest. "I don't intend to comply with your expectations, Yoshino. You are just like everyone else, looking for something that isn't there."
"No. It's there. You get tired from time to time. The arrogance that you're showing off is just defense to stop anyone from salting your weakness." Yoshino struck her fist against the ground, just wheezing near Yumi's left ear. "Shit. Should I pound your skull to prove my point? You're not stupid." Yoshino pulled Yumi's shoulders upward and embraced her tightly.
"I love you, Yumi." Yoshino sobbed as she held Yumi. "You're my best friend."
Yoshino felt tears soaking her shirt by the shoulder. It's still here, she believed. It's still here.
Yumi shoved her away.
She was crying as she tore herself from what she believed was a warm embrace.
Eventually, you all will leave me. True, it was not about Sachiko anymore. It is about everyone. Soon, you will leave me. Why bother?
Yoshino turned away. The heaviness in her heart yearned to collect Yumi to her arms, to console the aftermath of their fight, but she hesitated. She loved Yumi so—she told her—but does Yumi needed to suffer greatly to understand her foolishness? Not just to acknowledge them, but to take action? Does she want everyone, including her, to wish Yumi to suffer to see the consequences?
She did not watch Yumi leave the door, closing it gently, which surprised Yoshino.
Yet, as she sulked in the middle of the workroom, she realized that she somehow wished for it. In sheer fear of her thoughts, she felt the poison of her silent betrayal. She is Yumi's best friend. No, wishing her demise is unbecoming.
But then, was it a necessary evil?
No. Not when she learned that Ogasawara Kyouichii indeed was playing in the field.
{AFTERMATH}
There were one thing that Kyouichii regretted the past few decades; it was not having courage to settle debts to those who he owed long ago. It was not because he deliberately allowed it to happen; he chose not to deal with it. And it was not related to bank papers. His debts were more abstract, shifted mainly to the moral scale. He was never used to debts—he was rich to begin with. When he thought of Setsuna, he knew that his weakness was being poked at. And Kashiwagi Suguru was the last straw.
He read the letter several times just to know if this indeed was true and legitimate. He would never guess that Setsuna could say goodbye to him in this carefree manner, almost not herself. She was always the serene one and very privy of her thoughts. Not even him could gauge what she was thinking. In the short surreal months that they have indulged together, he gave up reading her after the third time he was surprised by her spontaneity. She was truly an artist—never to be fully comprehended.
Their parting was devastating for her—he was sure. He made certain that it was the case and he regretted it when he himself orchestrated it. But did he have a choice? Deep inside him, he knew he had options, but he was too blind to consider them.
But to have regrets was being weak. It was done and over three decades ago, and it should have left him indifferent if he would be confronted by it at present. He thought wrong. He never did fulfill his promise, neither payed his debt. And it killed him that she was coming back through a letter—a piece of paper with no certainty of reply.
He never presumed that sleuthing into Sachiko's business would spring forth more problems. No, he contradicted; it was she who was bringing problems. He taught her to be loyal to the family, to do everything for the family. He told her that for her not to suffer the same mistakes that he had done in the past. Yes, he was the second generation, but such title meant that he was a successor to a business single-handedly built by his father with all his blood and flesh. It is true that the Ogasawara family was very old, but that did not mean that it was constantly strong. By far, his father's line was the one that only survived until now. And that line was used to be considered as the weakest branch family. Long ago, they were the small fry. Long ago, his father's family was deemed nothing more than leech, scouring into the main branch family just because they happened to belong to a family called Ogasawara.
Soon, they were abandoned by the main branch. They were betrayed until they were cut off.
His father persevered, and soon he had money. Then immense power. Then, pride.
No one knew that. History, in reality, is not entirely written into a book.
But that line—his father's line made history better than those in the main branch. It was now being written and recorded. The main branch was not able to achieve even that.
That was why he strongly advised Sachiko to stay loyal to his orders. Because he knew, he was right. Youth were expected to behave differently from the predecessors, which were scornfully branded as outdated, however, the essence of the world had not change since his time, his father's time, and his father before him. Youth are adventurous, but incredibly reckless, and they would realize in their failures that they should better listen with an open ear and another closed.*
He had seen more, experienced more than Sachiko had. He lost more than she did. He witnessed the darker side of the world than she had.
He never thought that Fukuzawa Yumi would lead him to Kinomoto Setsuna, with a piece of green letter from Kashiwagi Suguru. He would have thought that the man—who was recently popular in his corporate circle—had threatened him with privy information. No one must know about Setsuna. How did he know?
Before he knew it, Kashiwagi Suguru had breached more of his defenses than he expected. He had crawled inside the Ogasawara Zaibatsu discreetly and already made himself a niche, only to prop himself a seat for the next stockholders' meeting. How he breached passed Sachiko's and even Ryu's radar quickly was beyond Kyouichii. How Kashiwagi passed even his own radar was even more abysmal.
Murata told him that Fukuzawa Yumi was in Kashiwagi's compound, but he missed out that it was the Kinomoto's former home. He failed to give importance to Kashiwagi, knowing that he was just Yumi's employer. He was too focused on whatever Sachiko was doing behind his back. He was paranoid that Sachiko would give up the family's future, wherein the family's building legacy would end in her generation.
Because, until now, she was still unable to produce an heir. The next son that would bear the name of Ogasawara. That soon she would fail her obligation to the family. She is fortunate to have everything with a raise of a hand.
But now, Kashiwagi Suguru was forbidding him to act rationally, especially when he held the memory of Setsuna like a proud banner. She was a banner never to be raised.
TO BE CONTINUED
A/N: *"Pakinggan mo ang sinabi ko sa isang tenga, at 'di ito ilabas sa kabila." – is a common saying in Filipino wordplay that one, particularly a junior, should listen to his senior and plant the words to their brain and not forget it. Unlike listening on one ear and reject it with the other. Something like that.
A/N2: Just like the last chapters, this monster is hard to procure. It took a very hurting spank and the-reason-you-suck speech from le sister to overhaul this chapter and make this presentable. I have to admit that the last post was anticlimactic—I just shoved important information to the readers without a building the tension and adding hints. But assume whatever you may want to assume. XD
I really thank those who reviewed the previous chapters. It means so much to me that you took time to let me know your thoughts. Though I am deeply sorry I could not reply to them this time, in fear that my reply would be just a sentence or two back then. Real life is rather an aggravating troll, and it took a damning toll in my writing. I really love long discussions and much so, with you who took time and long sentences expressing your thoughts, thus I feel that you don't deserve just a quick note for a reply. You deserve much more than that. I really regret that I could not thank you more often.
Thank you so much for reading! Please drop a review. Review and I will be immensely happy! And if authors are happy then readers will be happy! :)