A/N: Not mine.

HUGE time jump, and from this point on, Kotoko will be referred to as Kocho. (Akira and Dylan misheard her when she was a toddler.)

"I'm sorry for leaving you in the lurch like this, Nao-kun." Mr. Irie's face had regained some color, but he still looked pale as he leaned back on the raised hospital bed.

"Why, Papa," his wife broke in, "it's not as if you could help getting ill."

He sighed, "Actually, if I had listened to Nao, I probably could. I just didn't want to go to the effort of exercise and counting calories. Once I regain my strength, I'm sure they'll accept you back into medical school. Pandai could even make a donation if they're recalcitrant."

Naoki looked down at the paperwork which he had brought from the office. "You might want to put a hold on any donations for a while. These numbers are not looking good in the current market."

"Yes, I am afraid I became overconfident with my earlier success and stretched myself too thin."

"And then worrying about that is part of what landed you here," his son chided. "Let me take this burden from you. I'm sure I'll find a solution."

"It is possible we will need an infusion of cash from an outside financier. Make sure if that happens you have our lawyers go over every stroke of the contract."

"Papa!" Mrs. Irie exclaimed. "Leave it to our son! Onii-chan," she turned to the young man, "in the future, leave those folders at the office. Your father needs calm and rest in order to recover quickly."

"Yes, Mother."

"Daddy A," Kocho whined into the phone, "Jiisan is at it again!"

A sigh could be heard all the way across the Pacific. "Who's the man this time, Cho-Cho?"

"You mean, who's the company, don't you?" she snarked back. "It's the Irie heir to Pandai. Stupid toy manufacturer."

"You were fond enough of their video game system not that long ago," her father reminded her. "Why is he venturing in that direction?"

"The company head over-extended then had a mild heart attack. That left his older son in charge, although rumor has it that it is the younger one who will take over the enterprise."

"Then why–"

"He's twelve. Not quite ready to take the reins. And his brother was in medical school when this happened."

"Tough break." Dylan's voice could now be heard. "That will make it hard to catch up when the crisis is over."

"Nah, word on the street is that he's some kind of genius. Overall smarts, but I'm not too sure that will translate to business acumen."

"Then you could be of some assistance," Akira took over from his husband. "Even if Otosan is matchmaking again, there's no way you have to stay engaged."

"You guys are no support whatsoever," she complained. "Besides, he's offering him the choice of me or Sahoko, and you know if he picks her that he might as well book the chapel now."

"Yes, well," he tried to hide a chuckle, "she can't help it that she was conditioned to be a wife suitable for the nineteenth century. At least you had some freedom before he insisted on having some part in educating you."

"Again, you're not helping, Fathers."

"She's mad now," Dylan said. "Father, not Daddy. Ouch."

"I can still hear you!" she called.

"This seems like a set-up," Mrs. Irie fretted as she adjusted her husband's tie. Although much improved, Mr. Irie was still months away from returning to work.

"Mama," he patted her hand, "I can't fault Mr. Oizumi for doing his very best to protect his investment."

"But…marriage to one of his granddaughters!"

He chucked her under the chin. "And how long have you been nagging Nao about dating?"

"This is clinical, not romantic," she complained.

"Well, this is just a meeting to see if either of them meet our son's exacting qualifications. Don't worry," he bussed her on the cheek, "Naoki assured me that marriage is not a requirement for the investment."

"It doesn't seem that way to me," she muttered as they headed toward the door. "Yuuki-kun, it's time to go," she called.

He slid around the corner from the hall. "I'm right here."

"Too bad those girls aren't younger, since you're the one who's eventually going to inherit Pandai."

"Girls! Icky!" He fake-gagged as they entered the limousine.

Naoki met them at the door of the exclusive restaurant, having traveled directly from the office. "Ah, good timing," he said as he assisted his mother from the vehicle. "The Oizumis should be here shortly."

The family stood in a line once the Oizumi entourage arrived. "Greetings, Oizumi-sama," Naoki bowed, "please allow me to present my parents and brother."

The wizened patriarch introduced his daughter, a middle aged woman with a serene countenance. "And my granddaughters: the eldest, Kocho, and also Sahoko."

After bowing once more, Mrs. Irie spoke to the older woman, "You are so blessed to have such beautiful daughters."

The other slightly flinched before replying softly, "Only Sahoko is mine."

"Oh?" This was news to all the Iries.

Oizumi cleared his throat. "Kocho is the daughter of my son, Akira. He has shown little interest in our family business and during his travels married into the Saeki family of Hawaii. They are," he sniffed, "farmers."

"Jiisan," the girl's eyes flashed, "Saeki Hala Kahiki is the top producer and exporter for the state and nation. Of course," she admitted with a grin, "Hawaii is the only state with the climate to grow pineapples commercially."

The Oizumi daughter raised her chin. "Please pardon my niece's American manners. She has only recently been allowed to study her Japanese traditions. If I may be so bold, Sahoko would make an ideal wife for a businessman. She can perform the tea ceremony with grace, plan a banquet for fifty, and arrange flowers with consummate artistry."

"Charming." Naoki's expression was bland. "Of course, it is in no way certain that I will remain in a position of authority with Pandai."

"Medical school, right?" Kocho interrupted.

"You are well informed," he replied with a raised eyebrow.

"With my American training, I learned the benefits of acquainting myself with as much information as possible."

"Kocho!" Her grandfather rebuked her harshly.

"No," Naoki raised one hand, "I am interested, Miss Oizumi Kocho. Miss Sahoko's mother has listed her daughter's accomplishments and talents. Would you care to share yours?"

She shot a triumphant look at her grandfather. "I was educated in Hawaii–private school, like Sahoko–but our similarities end there. I followed my…uncle and father around the plantation from an early age and can judge what variety will be society's next darling. I know at least two dozen beverage recipes using our product, and while I may not be proficient in Ikebana, last year I arranged attractive displays of tropical fruits and flowers for a banquet of two hundred and fifty when we introduced the latest pineapple wine from our vineyard."

"Bah!" Her grandfather waved away her speech. "Plebeian accomplishments, girl. Nothing that would interest people of industry."

She wrinkled her nose. "If you say so, Ojiisan."

Naoki cleared his throat and gestured. "Our private room is down the hall. Shall we adjourn there to get better acquainted?"

"Certainly," Oizumi agreed. "Sahoko-chan, take young Irie's arm."

Yuuki noticed the frown on his brother's face and stepped up immediately. "Miss Oizumi," he bowed to Kocho, "may I have the pleasure?"

She smiled widely. "Indeed you may." As they walked, she asked, "Is it true that you helped design the robotic toys from last year?"

As the meal progressed, Naoki could not help but believe that his brother had the more attractive dinner partner. Not necessarily in looks, he admitted, for both young ladies were lovely but the elder seemed to have more liveliness than the other. It was a shame, he thought, that outdated ideas of female behavior had stifled any original thoughts Sahoko might have had.

Suddenly the low murmurs of conversation were broken by an exclamation from Yuuki. "Surfing? I thought you looked familiar! You did a headstand at the Banzai competition almost two years ago."

"How do you know that?" Kocho asked, nonplussed.

Mr. Irie explained, "We were there to do some filming to capture wave action for a video game which had a soft release four months ago. Yuuki-kun convinced us to add your move as an option in the advanced levels."

"And your rainbow hair was so pretty," the boy added. "Why did you go back to dark?"

Mrs. Oizumi sniffed. "It is unseemly for a daughter–or granddaughter–of house Oizumi to sport unnatural colors such as that. One of the first trips we made when Kocho arrived was to the hair salon. My daughter," she raised her chin, "would never do anything so common."

Kocho leaned towards Yuuki and whispered, "Don't believe her. Sahoko uses a rinse to make sure that her brown hair stays lighter. Mine was lightened enough by the sun so that not much bleach was needed to put in the colors."

Naoki gave up on manners and leaned forward. "So, Miss Kocho, how long have you been surfing?"

"Most of my life," she replied. "We spend a lot of time at Uncle Dylan's beach house on the north shore."

"But the danger– Aren't you afraid of drowning?" Mr. Irie asked.

"No, I was loaded down with floatation devices until they were convinced that I swam well enough."

Mrs. Irie's thoughts flew back to the tragic trip of years before. "I don't know that anything could convince me to let my child loose in the ocean."

"Well, my father did not hold such a belief," she averred. "But, to ease your mind, I was on my high school swim team and also at Seaver College in Malibu." She cut a glance at her grandfather. "I had planned to get a business degree there and then an MBA at Pepperdine's Graziadio Business School, but someone decided that I needed to study Japanese literature at Seishin."

"Had you been properly brought to me when you were born, granddaughter," Oizumi stated, "you would not have felt out of place. I blame the influence of your American mother."

Kocho stared down at her plate and said with teeth clenched, "Saeki Aoi died before I could have any are faulting your own son. Sir."

"Still," the man waved an elegant hand, "her blood was impure, so all the more reason to study your family's culture."

Naoki broke the taut atmosphere. "Pardon me, Oizumi-san, but it appears that, despite what you indicated earlier, you show significant favoritism."

Kocho granted the Iries a taut smile. "While Saeki is obviously a Japanese name, my grandmother was Caucasian. Uncle Dylan's hair even gets blond streaks in the summer. That plus my unsuitable educational history and future goals demote me to a second-rate family member."

"Now that is nonsense," Mrs. Irie burst out. "While I revere our traditional forms of entertainment, the offerings of Hollywood are still diverting. There are many things of benefit in other countries. And, dear," she leaned over and patted Kocho's hand, "if it makes any difference," she shot Mr. Oizumi a venomous glare, "no one would suspect from your complexion and hair color that you are anything but full-blooded Japanese."

Kocho lowered her head in a brief bow. "Thank you, Irie-san, but I know well that I am darker than the ideal woman. Even with sunscreen," she grinned, "I still tanned in Hawaii and California."

"As that is your home, it is something to be expected. I cannot believe anyone would be so superficial as to hold that against you."

"Of course not," Naoki put in. "I played tennis in high school and can testify that the sun can be brutal in the summer. And I believe in Hawaii it shines nearly 75% of the year."

"Yes, indeed." She smiled at him for his support before allowing herself to be distracted by Yuuki, who was clearly angling for a visit to another surfing competition.

Naoki turned to the other Oizumi granddaughter. "And Miss Sahoko, do you also participate in a sport?"

"I do not engage in athletic competition, but I am proficient in several forms of Noh mai dance, play the flute in the school orchestra, and have won ribbons in poetry recitation."

"Charming," he replied, settling himself to display not a bit of boredom for the rest of the meal.