THE PASSING WIND

-TheSilentReader-

[PROLOGUE]

Shimazu Yoshino could hurt anyone with either her tongue or her hand, but all she did was stand in front of her when she heard her say:

"You should prevent her brother from talking to her."

She wanted to slap her, repeatedly, but all she could do was to make sure that her feet were on the ground. Her knees should not betray her now, because if it did, then many of the questions that were on her mind would never be voiced out and be asked. All this time, neither of them knew the reasons. All they did was to gather facts extracted from different sources and accounts, all severely interconnected and disjointed at the same time, and make them sensible to create a big picture. All those weeks of thinking were void when she heard her say:

"Yuuki-san must not know that Yumi has found it."

But she slapped her that moment when she repeated what she said. Everything that she said was tantamount to the same idea. It was repetitive. It was deliberately sewn into different choice of words and phrases, but it was the same idea. It was for them not to know the truth.

"WHY?!" Yoshino exclaimed. It hurt more to demand an answer than to slap her face. "Why are you involved in this? Why are you doing this?!"

Yoshino noticed the bleak expression etched on her face. It was hard, so fucking hard to slap a friend. It was so hard to trust a person who she had thought had betrayed them. She couldn't trust a person that kept the truth from her. She screamed, "Why you, of all people, why you?!"

"Because I was asked to do it." That person admitted. "I was needed. I am needed. And I couldn't take the sadness that I felt whenever I see the one I love so sad."

If ever she had heard these ten years ago, she would have bought this much easier.

Yoshino's eyes revealed the decision that was laid upon her hands as she heard her voice broken by tears as she answered Yoshino's questions. She realized that she would be entangled with the deception, betrayal, and treachery. That she couldn't look at Yumi and Yuuki's eyes after this, even though she said that:

"It is for their own good. You'll see. We reap what we sow. But what is important is the end, whatever the means."

She said those so lyrically, so magically, that Yoshino couldn't even look at her. Everything about her shone, her love covered with the darkness of ambiguousness was shining though its cracks. That someone would be forced to eat his or her own tail. That someone would take all the blame.

But, even with what Yoshino had found out, she couldn't see if this would change anything. When Yoshino last saw Yumi, she thought that nothing would ever change her friend, nothing—not even her painting. She felt the imminent tragedy lying in the future.

But she said that there was hope. All Yoshino could do was to believe her.

It was always hard to slap a true friend.

CHAPTER 24

"We were wrong about her; of about she was going to do. She told Shimazu-san and Fukuzawa-kun about the little stunt in the Ogasawara Mansion."

Teacups were lifted from their saucers as he began to speak. Even with the poor lighting of the immaculate room, they could still see the steam rising up the air, gathering pools and pools of clouds, until it faded away.

"Oh, that isn't a problem. Sachiko was bound to tell anyone she could trust. She was vulnerable that way. Friends do stick around, even with her attitude. Surprisingly, it was not Rei-san, but her cousin."

He rolled his sleeves, then braced himself and stretched his left arm.

"But the brother was there. He is sure to come to his sister and reveal everything."

Simultanous sounds of pop emanated the room.

"Then, good. Let's see how she reacts."

A chuckle drifted with the steam rising, as well as a pop of something that had been hit in a rather intensified speed. Something small, circular, solid. A rough scratch was heard. Then, a sudden movement.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

He looked at the liquid that contained in the cup that he was holding. This was not the right drink for this certain occasion. This should involve alcohol.

"That would change the pace of the game."

Then, another swing was heard. Then, two—three—no, four solid pops until a graze between leather and something close to a glass. No, something else. Something unbreakable.

"That would put us on the spotlight."

"We always love problems like this, the joy of being at the edge."

He placed the teacup onto the saucer with a small tink, left on the elevated gutter. It was his turn.

"They knowing about our little secret won't change anything. The police can't change anything. Shimazu-san couldn't change anything. Even with our insurance, we could still pursue the plan, as we always do, on our own."

Great art is always stolen and seldom found.

"Yuuki-san!"

"What?!"

"I think we should abandon this. Let this go. Let this deceit be left behind."

He was almost running to his car as he explained quickly, "Touma Ryu has the painting. He made a duplicate so to spite with Touma Sachiko and my sister! He knew that they were lovers in the past, and was enraged when his wife is once more reaching out to an old lover! This was to spite them!"

"I know!" She grabbed his arm to stop him from reaching the door. "I know that! But don't you see? Sachiko-san would not testify against him! We had no proof that he stole the painting. We have no proof that it was still in his possession! We couldn't know anything about him because there was no case! Even though Sachiko-san called us to determine if what he destroyed was Yumi's painting, she wouldn't even speak ill against her husband. Don't you see?! We are pawns of the game that we never like to play!"

"I cannot just sit here—"

Her grip on his arm was becoming too painful. "I can't too. But I have no choice! I told you before, that Yumi-san's painting would appear before us before we know it, because this is always personal. Her works had been duplicated. We could have a search warrant but we couldn't file without proper evidence! And that evidence lies within Sachiko-san's statements. She could be charged because she was keeping vital information, but that's all what we could do. Contacting us was something that she supposedly ought not to do, but in panic, she did. If she were smart enough, she would have kept this to herself, and look for it herself. But there was someone pulling the strings here.

"Yumi and Hinomura had given up their cause of looking for it. When Hinomura decided that enough was enough, Yumi did not bother take measures to continue the investigation. I could look, but where would this take me? Could I get Touma-san and throw him to jail? I couldn't. Not when they have the money to buy Yumi's loss and bail themselves out. If we couldn't find them red-handed, then our own professions would be at stake. Can't you see my point?

"We can't do anything for Yumi, thus we wait. We wait for them, until the game finished."

"I couldn't just sit—"

"I couldn't do anything, too. No matter how hard we try, we are weak against them."

"We always think we are all under the law. But the law itself could be penetrated, wounded, mended. I understand you, but how can you be so sure that it will return?" He shouted.

Sometimes, even the most pious and principled could have no other choice but be consumed by the system. Even.

The size of the room was as two-thirds wide of an olympic-sise basketball court.

Touma Sachiko stood in front of a long table that occuppied fourty people, all vice presidents of various sectors and sections and divisions of the Ogasawara Zaibatsu, based on Tokyo. On the far side of the conference room, Ogasawara Kyouiichi, on his wheelchair, was watching the rest of the fourty people seating, evident in their faces that Touma Ryou, who was one seat away from Sachiko and Kashiwagi Suguru, had been gaining the upper hand in the discussion for the next President and CEO of the company. The battle was between Touma Sachiko and Kashiwagi Suguru.

Kyouiichi was silent as he watched through his thick spectacles, boring his eyes on each and every one present in the meeting. Everyone is present, as he ordered, and every one he shall examine, everyone who had sold himself to Touma Ryu. No one had known that he had Kashiwagi as his leutenant, or the other way around.

Either way, they all see Kashiwagi, the strange, unfamiliar person, who walked in the company building who were about to swing the whole room to surrender to the leadership that he was betting for.

What was Sachiko had not done was to reveal that she knew Touma Ryu was involved in this, which Kyouiichi realized as some sort of loyalty. If it were for Ryu, why just now? Kyouiichi questioned annoyingly. Why now, and not before? He watched Ryu's passivity like a sitting duck on a field of vultures and eagles. But Sachiko was now finished with the presumptuous and mendacious report just for formality before the real war in the conference room began.

But when two hours of simply covering their tracks, protecting interests and betraying allies, Sachiko had won the argument. She had acquired the most number of votes. She had revealed secrets and protected the family. She had raised his grandfather's name and protected Touma Ryu while she lambasted each and every one who sided with Kashiwagi Suguru. She revealed what was essential, but hidden what she could use in later future. Everything was planned, and everything that Kyouiichi and Sachiko had countered and anticipated had been drowned away by their preparedness.

Everyone in this room were climbing in a much steeped cliff, and everyone were pulling others' feet downward, thowing them to an unknown pit. In the end, everyone wanted to become the authority. They thought that Kashiwagi, that young capitalist from Kyoto, would be their avenue to the top, either by using him or him using them.

Which would never happen.

Perhaps they worked much better as a team and not as adversaries. Perhaps when two minds of the Ogasawara blood had reconciled and mended, they could defeat everyone, even the superb machinations done by Kashiwagi Suguru.

Even though he was left unscathed by the whole ordeal, hidden in between his pawns' failures and accountabilities, Kyouiichi knew that this matter won't be left unsolved—Suguru would pay his debt.

But he did get away. In the end, he penetrating into the company proved how many was such rats and snakes inside the closest circle in his corporation, who was seduced by Kashiwagi's promise of power and money once he took over. Every name that Sachiko had extracted, every information that she had gathered, were marked forever in Kyouiichi's head.

When Kyouiichi announced that Sachiko would be replacing him, Kashiwagi stopped his ministrations and settled quietly on his seat, satisfied. His face was as blank as ever, as if gaining that announcement from Kyouiichi was his only plan after all. Touma Ryu smirked when that happened.

They had won, but like all wars, they were going to enjoy the spoils. Those who lost would be left with nothing, and would still be extorted until they were dry.

But Kyouiichi had promised. Kyouiichi had a word with Sachiko.

He would give her what she deserved.

She would be taking over in the next year. She would handle all that Ogasawara Kyouiichi would leave behind when he retired. A year would be enough for the transition, for the transfer of power and authority. A year to sort out what had been wrong in the company before he could retire and she could take settle debts, to increase once the year had finished, everyone would welcome the new President and CEO, and everyone would do as she said.

Everyone would welcome a new generation of the Ogasawara, the fourth generation, the first woman who would handle the company with a fist that matched the past generations. All the while, she had done everything for the family. She had done everything to protect it.

That was the only thing that he taught her, in all those games that they played since she was a child. And it finally planted, sprouted, grew and bore fruit in her head.

She had become what he wanted her to be. After all, it was for the family.

Touma Sachiko's secretary, a tall, lithe, and pretty woman in a pale pink dress suit, had been at the door of the conference room ever since the meeting started at a very early of time. She was supposed to be waiting for her employer in her office once the long day conference was finished, but she felt that something was wrong.

Three days . . . three days has it been ever since she was summoned by Touma Sachiko and had done various tasks that were next to impossible if not for Sachiko-sama's quick directive. She knew that her employer had not eaten and slept very well in those three days, not when she compared it with how Touma Sachiko had been taking care of herself in the past weeks.

She had known secrets, scandals that could topple everyone's world, but her employer just heard it with blank eyes, thin lips and tangled fingers, listening and reading to horrid information. All she could do was to shut her mouth, listen, and keep them as secrets. It was as if she was never there.

She intended to stay out of it, to remove herself from Sachiko-sama and her machinations, but she was ordered to stay put. Whether that was because of what she knew or that because Sachiko-sama trusted her, she couldn't tell.

Something did change ever since that day when she was ordered to leave early from the office, leaving Sachiko-sama on her own.

Sachiko-sama's secretary never left her post until her employer leaves the building. She never did, but three days ago, she was summoned in the Ogasawara Mansion and found her so worked up, alert and stern, as she'd never been before. And this was the result.

Sachiko-sama will be the more than just a vice-president in one of the highest divisions in the headquarters; she was to assume her grandfather's position in a year.

Thus came Touma Sachiko bursting out of the conference hall triumphant in completing her objectives. In one swift move, her secretary had stood from her seat and proceeded on reminding her once more of the iteneraries for the remaining day, but Sachiko-sama waved a hand and instantly, she knew that they were to be cancelled. Her employer was rushing to the hall, while her husband, Touma Ryu-sama called her from the room. She did not even bat an eye nor turn back, but walked away with several documents in tow. The secretary now said, "Sachiko-sama, I think it's time for me to get these documents from you. They're heavy."

Sachiko-sama gave her half of the documents, anyway. But as she took the elevator, leaving the rest of the conference's participants away, she comanded, "I want to be alone in my office for a moment. Tell that to everyone who'd want to see me. Not even my husband."

"Yes, Sachiko-sama."

"Good. Now, let's leave those bastards alone. Shall we?" She quipped.

"Very well, Vice-president."

Once they were in the office, the secretary left her alone, and safeguarded the entrance. She had called a staff to prepare tea before they could reach the office, and as Touma Sachiko's staff, tea was already prepared and ready to be served. But when Sachiko sat on her chair, with a tea cup on her hand, she commanded, "Leave me alone."

And they did.

Several minutes later, Touma Ryu came into the floor and wanted an audience with her. The secretary didn't know how this harmless, pleasant man that she was acquainted with had shown differently—fierce, dangerous, livid—when she repeatedly told him that no one was to see her. It was an order, an order she can't disobey, not with the state of how Sachiko had commanded it.

Next thing they heard was a sound of breaking inside the room. A woman's fierce cry tore at the halls of the office. With that, the secretary had no choice but to open the doors and see what happened.

Touma Sachiko was lying on the floor, consciousness lost. There was blood on the carpet floor, mingling with the tea that spilled from the shattered teacups.

Ogasawara Kyouiichi was in his office, sitting at the chair before his long, wooden table, leaning to see the painting hanging on the wall behind his chair. It was a picture of the Ogasawara Mansion, the very heart of him. He looked at it silently, his face nostalgic and sentimental.

Kashiwagi Suguru was sitting before hm, also looking at the picture.

"What do you really want from me, Kashiwagi-san?" He finally asked; his voice a little soft, silent, even for a man like him.

Kashiwagi turned to him from the picture to answer the man, but unlike during their last meeting, he looked like him silently as he measured how rhetorical the question was. Kyouiichi regarded him by taking his spectacles away from his eyes, and waited for an answer.

"I think you know the answer." He smiled as he spoke. "Wheelchair doesn't suit you."

"Doctors' orders. Only they can order me around at this point these days, because they know my body more than myself. Such boldness, arrogance." Kyouiichi answered, grin on his face. "But damn them and their insistence."

Then, he flipped the lid of a wooden box filled with expensive cigars. "Do you mind?" He asked Kashiwagi and was given a reply with a wave of a hand. He then sliced the tip of the cigar with a cutter. He, then, pulled a long matchstick from another box adjacent to the cigar's and produced fire to be left consumed as he dabbed the cigar through the flame.

His breath produced a rich, gray smoke through his nose and mouth.

A cup of tea was served for each of them. Suguru sipped his own as Kyouiichi signaled when he tried to reach out for his own cup. He said, "I swear I could do on my own with a cane, but they don't understand. A man needs to move all the time. A man like me needs to move all the time. Not sit here and rot my bottom and my legs."

"Stubborn as a mule." The younger man commented. "But you have your physical therapists to do those for you, haven't you?"

"They think I am senile. That's why those bastards floors down think I can no longer continue my career in this office. They thought that when you barge into this office to take what rightfully belonged to the Ogasawara family, they took the chance of betraying me, just because of what you could offer. They weren't in this company far too long than my former associates and employees, but they had the audacity to take my share of the pie. Because they think, I don't have any regard for my heir. They think that I am weak to face the truth. I am not weak!" He declared before Suguru, slamming his fist on the hard wood of his immaculate, old table. "I can still work five or seven years more!"

Ogasawara looked at Kashiwagi viciously. The young man eyed him with any trace of neither pity nor sentiment, and remained blank.

"But why did you decide to give it to her?" Kashiwagi asked.

"Isn't that what you wanted?" Through his suddenly wet throat, he groaned.

"Oh, I had no opinion about that. I only did what I enjoyed to do. You people are very adorable to watch." He sneered. Then he finished the rest of his cup and settled it down to the saucer near him.

Kyouiichi asked, distracted, "Do you want a second helping?" When he reached for the intercom for his PA to assist Kashiwagi, he was stopped by the young man.

"No, that won't do. I'll be mother." Kashiwagi said.

Then, he watched Kashiwagi stood from his seat on the sofa set and retrieve his and Kyouiichi's cup. Kyouiichi eyed him suspiciously, and Kashiwagi just rolled his eyes in displeasure, "I won't poison you—for heaven's sake." He said drammatically. "Your humiliation today when you gave your position up was enough for me to last a lifetime. Killing you would be much messier. And boring."

He poured the tea from the teakettle, fresh and steaming hot, walked around the table, and bent a little to place Kyouiichi's cup in front of him. Then, he went back to his chair and enjoyed his own second helping. Then, he started, "You know, I would want to have Shimata-san with me, just like the rest of those men in the conference—their PAs around at the snap of their fingers, but I won't be too harsh on him."

Kyouiichi's face depicted a person trying to remember a memory. "Shimata-san . . . he's one of the branch family, isn't he?"

"Adopted. But he loved Kinomoto so passionately that he looked for me after I was taken away." Kashiwagi added, blowing the steam gently from his cup.

"He, then, was like . . . a father to you." Kyouiichi gulped.

Kashiwagi smirked, "No. He never assumed such a thing. Because I don't want him to. I only had one father, and that was Kashiwagi Otou-sama. Blood ties means nothing to me."

"Then what happened to Setsuna-san? Or to your mother in the Kashiwagi household? Who took the role of mother?"

Kyouiichi smirked, then his lips spouted a full snigger, then a laugh. Kashiwagi appeared not surprised with his reaction; he sipped once more. It seemed that Kashiwagi decided not to answer that question, which said much or nothing about his true intentions of being here. Was he here as an expy of his mother, or was he here for himself?

"We are the same, you and I." He leaned on his chair, rested his elbows in its arms, and locked his fingers. "It means everything to us."

Kashiwagi poured a little emotion into his words as he said, "Blood differs from family."

"True."

Yet, how did Kashiwagi had planned and anticipated the outcomes by just assuming their actions? What was in Kashiwagi, or what did he know?

Kashiwagi asked, because he had nothing else to lose anyway. "Did you plan this? I was so surprised that you announced to the board that you'd be passing the torch to your granddaughter in less than a year. Even Ryu-san was surprised at your decision."

"I just did what you did not expect. Such action is one of the many ways to win, Suguru-kun, remember that." Kyouiichi replied.

He smiled as silence enveloped the office, seemingly emphasizing every word that he was about to tell the old man. "Yet, it must have hurt when you turned it over to her. She's still young to assume such a pressuring position. And you don't have a male heir. Your last hope for one had gone away, taken by his weakness, and came to her because he couldn't handle being with you anymore."

"Tooru is weak." He spat.

"So, was choosing his wife over your orders weak?"

Tooru wasn't perpetually gone out of the lives of the Ogasawara family; no, he wasn't. Neither was Sayako.

Sayako had a weak health, and it has been ever since Ogasawara Sachiko was born. It would take a toll for her to conceive once more for a boy that Tooru would have wanted, but then, she was always so eager, so incline to please. That even when Kyouiichi decided that the city life was no longer an option for Sayako (such absence in the society is better than performing in social functions so pathetically) she was taken away.

Or, she ran away.

Divorce was never an option. No one should ever have that mistake in the family where choosing a wife or husband mattered like a major business venture.

When she was gone, not a word was heard from her, not even Tooru, who was out of the country for two months. Both of them seemed not to care for each other anymore, as the household staff noticed whenever both were in the mansion. But, it was what they expected of him, because that was also what the family patriarch was doing—he was not present in the house where it mattered.

He was as cold with his wife, Sachiko Ojou-sama's grandmother.

Sachiko was still studying when it happened. She was still wearing the dark green Lillian uniform when Sayako seized to exist in the mansion. She had a pretty smile on her face until she heard that her mother had gone away.

It was Oji-sama who she called first after she found out. He gave no explanation, no pleasant reason, or a convincing lie to make her feel better. Instead, he said, "Ask your father."

She never did. She knew that Sayako left because she couldn't handle anymore the humiliation, the disgrace against her pride. She was the wife, but it was not her who Tooru was with. It was not she who Tooru had sharing his problems. It was not she who was encouraging Tooru to be what the family patriarch would have wanted him to be. For her, she thought she was a liability. She was useless.

But Sachiko understood her. She would have run away with her, if Okaa-sama had taken Sachiko with her. If she knew Okaa-sama's plans.

Sachiko never did ask her father where she went. She never asked Otou-sama when he'd come back after work, when he would leave again for work.

Sachiko didn't care that Otou-sama existed, until he left two months ago.

Sachiko had cried when she received a letter from Okaa-sama weeks before. Okaa-chan did not forget her, even when she went away. She was in good health, but it ached because Okaa-chan missed her terribly. Okaa-chan had nothing to do but to watch her every move, look at the television whenever Sachiko appeared. She cut every clip from the newspaper that wrote about her, bad or good. She even wanted to see her, but she decided not to, not when her grandfather was always at their tails.

Sachiko never replied to the letters at first, thinking that Okaa-chan should have taken Sachiko with her, but that was long ago. When she was in college, she started to write back once or twice a year. But when she was married to Touma Ryu, she stopped.

Okaa-chan wrote back, once or twice a year too, even when Sachiko had stopped replying. Later, letters came every month since.

But when Otou-sama had gone away too without a word, the letters stopped.

Okaa-sama must have stopped missing her.

But, it did . . . it did make her happy.

Just when she thought that she would never write back to Okaa-sama, she did, with news.

Sachiko knew that Okaa-sama was happy, somewhere where her fated had taken her. The letters stopped, that's why.

But she did wrote—just because she felt the inclination to tell her, as her one and only beloved mother—that she was carrying a child. Ryu's child.

And it feared her so, she wrote in the letter. Because Sachiko knew, that she was just like her.

That Sayako is like Sachiko.

Again, it was hard to produce Sachiko.

It was hard, that Sayako almost died.

It was hard, that Sachiko almost died.

It was hard, that Sachiko and Sayako almost died.

Then, he dismissed his prodding by standing up to prepare hiself to leave. "Nevertheless, I have served my purpose well. After this, you won't be hearing from me."

He had mentioned Tooru and Sayako. He knew those that were kept only by the family. How did he knew? Touma Ryu had told him about the family? What else had he revealed to Kashiwagi Suguru?

However, was there anything else to hide?

"You have done enough against me. You will pay for this, soon enough. In time."

"When is that? Now? When you're senile and nearly dying?" He settled the cup back to the saucer again. He fixed the front buttons of his coat and arraned his necktie. He was preparing to leave, as he stood up. "By the way, Touma Sachiko proved to be better than you have ever expected. Better than you are. It must be hard to swallow that a woman, in her age, had achieved more. That she was like your father, right? The only person who you most admired but couldn't be."

Kyouiichi said nothing. Kashiwagi continued, enjoying his moment of victory over the Ogasawara patriarch. "Three days was enough to release her full potential. Three days. Yet, unlike her, you took almost a lifetime but you're not even close to what your father could achieve."

"How dare you!" The old man croaked.

He dismissed Kyouiichi's tantrum as he walked away. "This was a service for a friend. He knew he can't do anything by himself, so he consulted me. He wants Sachiko to deserve what was hers all along. He loved her so much, you see. Even if this would destroy him, he sacrificed enough. And we suceeded."

"No. That's not the reason you're here! You are here, because you wanted to destroy me!"

A wicked laugh echoed in the room.

"Thank you for stating the obvious! It's not only I who wanted to destroy you; it was also my mother. Your family had done nothing but leave her in misery." Kashiwagi Suguru grabbed the empty teacup and smashed the teacup on the floor as he fumed—eyes shining, nostrils flaring, veins on his neck bulging. He stomped until he reached Kyouiichi's table, and banged both his fists as he glared at the old man.

"Your family kept her away from me! It's because of you that she lost everything!"

Kashiwagi Suguru left Ogasawara Kyouiichi lost in his thoughts as he pondered:

No, I left her without taking anything. I knew we separated ways in the most pleasant way. I had done nothing but to leave her in peace, without seeing her or looking for her or watching her, because that was what she wanted. She wanted happy memories to stay as they were: happy. Not to break away with bitterness.

I would have not obeyed her insistence, but I couldn't. I want to respect her wishes.

She was always calm, collected.

She could never think that of me. Because I kept my promise. I'm sure I did.

In a very meticulously prepared plan, glitches always appeared because of extraneous variables, which were supposed to be eliminated before the plan executes. Everything was nicely completed, but even the most intricate strategy was left to be judged by chance.

And this extraneous variable was Touma Sachiko being pregnant after years of fruitless effort.

Fifteen missed calls. Twelve unread texts. Three fourths of the battery consumed. The number that you have dialed is either unattended or out of coverage area. Please try your call later.

The number that you have dialed is either unattended or out of coverage area. Please try your call later.

The number that you have dialed—

Battery empty.

Fukuzawa Yuuki yanked his arm away and pushed her to away from him. "You don't tell me what to do! I know, for myself, that I am doing the right thing! Yumi needed me, and I am going to help her. Yumi needs to know who was behind this. She is my only sister!"

"Yuuki-san, no—"

"She is my sister!"

[AFTERMATH]

"Don't do everything by yourself, Sachiko."

A voice she knew so well was heard when she opened her eyes. The room was dim, which was good for her eyes. She tried to look at the bedside, but no one was there. She started to blink more, trying to remember how she ended up here, somewhere, and why was there an IV pinched on her skin. Then, she remembered what happened.

No! Please please please please please please do not do this to me . . . not like this . . . .

Just as she touched her belly with her uninjured arm, she saw with the aid of a lamp on a bedside table: it was on the wall in front of her, several steps away from the foot of her bed. There, in the dim lighting, she finally saw what she thought she could never see again.

There it was, the woman with rotting legs surrounded by yellow smoke. Then, a voice began to drawl from the door.

"That isn't fake, by the way."

The woman with long, straight, blond hair had said. Satou Sei was grinning.

TO BE CONTINUED

A/N: Okay. Kashiwagi Suguru finally lost his temper. He finally lost it. I never felt so free.

"Great art is always stolen and seldom found" is from "Why Great Art Will Always Be Stolen (and Seldom Found)," a title of an article by Judith Hennessee, published in Connoisseur, July 1990, pp. 41-47 and 104. I haven't read this yet, but I assumed that the art theft featured here were of paintings, drawings and sculptures of the Great Masters, old and new. So, to relate that with Yumi (and this plot), getting the culprit would matter less since she's a contemporary painter (still had so many things to prove) and she didn't even count. Therefore, looking for her painting isn't as elaborate, meticulous and doesn't require a major police or government force from whereever just to get it back, unlike with the missing or stolen paintings of Monet, Picasso, and the like. Compared to them, she is still bound for criticism. This is what Yoshino wanted to say, I guess.

But still, this story being so fictional, anything that we assume could happen, even the most delusional ones. I'm babbling.

Thanks to RL, CX, CIFC and S about your commentaries and analyses. Especially those character analyses and chess, thank you, you know who you are. You are so right about Don Quixote. You probably are much better in synthesizing commentaries about this story than myself. And wadys06, for reviewing even though we are separated by our language barrier. I could never understand Spanish, but thank God for the net, I managed to read what you want to convey.

I hope I am living up to your expectations as I continue this story. I hope that the grammar and spelling glitches aren't as conspicuous and glaring. I wish I had a proper beta.

Last breadcrumb: Honorifics.

Reviews are welcome!