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(Posted August 30, 2003.)

* * * * *

Tokyo, Japan - The Watanabe Compound, 2020

Four-year-old Yoshiko Watanabe stood in the doorway of the main living room of the mansion. Her younger twin brother Takeo and three year old brother Ryoku stood next to her, just as cautious about to entering the room.

“Come in, Children,” their mother beckoned as she cradled a bundle in her arms. “We have an important announcement.”

Yoshiko glanced at the gathered staff in the background, each with a look of pleased excitement.

She had seen the mysterious visitors that had arrived earlier with the same bundle now in her mother’s arms, but the men were no longer around. She recognized them as being foreigners and speaking a language to her father that she didn’t understand. She was used to such visitors, but none had ever arrived to deliver babies before.

Unless she and her brothers had arrived the same way and she was just too young to remember.

Her father, Ichiro Watanabe, stood over her mother’s shoulder, beaming proudly as he did whenever he had something to show off. “Children, come greet your new baby sister.”

The kids exchanged bewildered looks but entered the room as they were told.

They approached, noticing that no one made a move or sound, including the baby in their mother’s arms.

The baby had light pink skin with round, sparkling blue eyes. She had wisps of hair that was so blond that she almost looked bald.

The youngest Watanabe child wasn’t impressed by the sight. The three-year-old Japanese boy frowned and commented, “She looks funny.”

The adults giggled knowingly.

“She’s from a faraway country called England,” his mother explained patiently.

“Are her parents still there?” the oldest son Takeo asked, the ever-practical boy that he was.

Hesitating, his mother looked at his father instead of answering.

Mr. Watanabe answered simply, “Her parents are not able to raise her. So that’s why we’re adopting her.”

Yoshiko asked quietly, “What was her name in England?”

“She was originally named Constance. But that doesn’t matter anymore. Her name will be Nyoko from now on. Nyoko Watanabe.”

Yoshiko said nothing as she stared at the baby, who silently stared back.

* * * * *

The Watanabe Compound, 2027

Ten-year-old Yoshiko sat quietly as her mother and maids fussed over her pinned up hair, jewelry and kimono. The beautiful young girl was normally impeccable and stylish in her appearance, a natural sense of grace and fashion evident even at such an early age. However, tonight it was important that her appearance be absolutely perfect.

A few feet away, six year old Nyoko sat just as still as a similar amount of fuss was made over her own appearance. Just as Yoshiko was an example of Japanese beauty, Nyoko possessed the elegant narrow features of her presumably English genes; yet, she grew into the absolutely perfect Watanabe child. She was silent unless asked to speak, never fussed or made any unacceptable scene. She was intelligent and charming whenever her adopted parents wanted her to be, and always on standby for the next request for a command performance for associates and strangers to be impressed.

While the two Watanabe boys considered their youngest sister an amusing but ultimately unimportant addition to the family, Yoshiko was highly unimpressed by Nyoko, but was wise to keep her opinion to herself. This was partially because if someone were to ask her to articulate her dislike, she couldn’t put it into words.

When Nyoko was not performing in some fashion, she was ignored and overlooked, which was often in the very large and busy household. The little girl used this freedom in one of two ways: to be completely by herself and stare off into space, or to watch everything with the intensity of a hawk. She made no effort to instigate or strengthen social bonds that weren’t already established. Yoshiko noticed that if one paid close enough attention to the younger girl, she seemed to give off an air of someone who knew she didn’t belong, and who didn’t care.

The only other thing that Yoshiko noticed about her adopted sister was how slender she was, almost to the point of appearing frail. However, any perceptions of ill health were brushed away by the small child’s on-demand energy and charisma.

Yoshiko stared at her own reflection in the large wall mirror before her as her mother made the final touches of her make-up. She glanced over at Nyoko and made eye contact with the other girl. The stepsisters stared at each other for a moment but then broke eye contact, each once again acting like no acknowledgement was made.

“Perfect!” Madame Watanabe proclaimed as she stepped back and looked over the two girls.

Minutes later, Yoshiko walked into the hall filled with a waiting crowd of the world’s most powerful people dressed in their finest. She glanced over at her two brothers, who looked polished in their tuxedos. She saw that down towards the end her father waited with the most important guest whom she had never met before, her fiancé.

She recognized the tall, handsome Kano Mitsushita from his pictures in the business magazines that her mother had shown her. At twenty-seven, the entrepreneur was the darling of the business world, due very much to connections and financing by Yoshiko’s father, who openly considered Kano a younger brother.

Mitsushita smiled broadly as he saw his future wife approach. He leaned over and murmured something into the senior Watanabe’s ear; the men shared a hearty, roguish laugh.

Yoshiko noticed the exchange but made no reaction other than to pause before them expectantly.

Kano bowed deeply to the girl, giving her a friendly smile. “I am honored to finally meet you, Yoshiko. You are even more beautiful than the pictures I’ve seen. You will definitely be quite a prize when we finally marry in five years.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Yoshiko replied demurely, which apparently pleased her father greatly.

Kano’s attention was then distracted by the little blond girl waiting to the side. “Now this must be Nyoko.”

Ichiro Watanabe grinned. “Yes, this is my other daughter. Nyoko, perform that song you just learned.”

“Yes, Papa,” she responded brightly.

Yoshiko stifled a sigh as the other girl captured the adoring attention of the room with her song and dance.

* * * * *

The Watanabe Compound, 2029

Thirteen-year-old Yoshiko watched the male servants carry away the crumpled body of what had been her uncle. The more seasoned female servants were already bringing out rags and buckets to wipe the blood and other human debris from the floor. She looked at her father, who grimly wiped his soiled hands with towels that were ready and waiting, his clothes spotted with red.

No one spoke despite the fact that the hall had the full household of almost 200 people within it. It had been another moment of retribution, when someone who brought shame to the family must pay the ultimate price.

This time it was her uncle, her father’s youngest brother, who been caught in a public scandal involving the wife of a politician friend of the family. While there were certainly no laws against such things, the Watanabes were an old family with traditions that were separate from any form of government justice. If the affair had been resolved, and no ill will had been caused with such a powerful ally, her uncle would have been spared. It was moments like these which reinforced the fact to everyone that their actions are not their own.

Since this was the third such demonstration she had been old enough to witness, Yoshiko glanced at her brothers. Takeo was as quiet and composed as always while Ryo looked quite ashen, bordering on sick. She then looked at her mother, who sobbed quietly in a handkerchief, being comforted by other adult family members.

Then she saw eight-year-old Nyoko sitting quietly against the wall, wearing the simple blue dress that was her favorite. The younger girl was expressionless as her sharp blue gaze took in every detail of the clean up, as if freezing the episode into her memory.

Yoshiko frowned, noting the lack of emotion from the girl who had never before witnessed something so brutal. She herself was raised to be the strong, proud daughter of the family. Yoshiko was expected to be stoic while her own mother was allowed to shed tears.

Yet little Nyoko bore the opposite expectations. Yoshiko even overheard adults wondering if she would sit through such a display without making some emotional fuss or outburst. Since the little girl watched like a life-size doll, she was once again forgotten.

As if feeling the attention on her, Nyoko looked directly at the older girl, their gazes locking. Once again, they both looked away as if no eye contact had been made.

* * * * *

The Tanaka Sports Center, 2030

“Press this against your nose,” the gray-haired coach handed the ice-pack to the thirteen year Ryoku, who was trying to keep too much blood from trickling down the front of his gi.

They were in one of the private locker rooms of the large sports complex, one of the perks for the wealthy and well connected.

“I was rather impressed,” elder brother Takeo commented dryly as he and Yoshiko stood by, both dressed in regular clothes as audience members. “It almost looked like you had him beat you up on purpose.”

Yoshiko barely suppressed a snort of a laugh as the younger boy shot back a death glare.

“Takeo, be fair,” the girl jokingly chastised. “Ryo is clearly better at violin playing than he is at karate. Just like you’re better at tennis.”

Takeo nonchalantly shrugged. “Well, I think this is just the final nail in the coffin in Father’s hopes of having a martial arts champion from this generation of Watanabes.”

“We’d have one if Father would allow Yoshiko to compete in public,” Ryo pointed out, referring to the many times their sister would nail both boys in matches in their private dojo.

The girl rolled her eyes. “I doubt beating your two asses would make me qualified for championship status. Besides, I’m perfectly fine with being spared that kind of pressure. Speaking of which, Father said to meet him out front in fifteen minutes.”

Ryo nodded and then glanced around. “Where’s Nyoko?”

“Who knows?” Yoshiko commented dryly. “You know how she’s always wandering off. She’s either off doing her own thing, or lingering in Father’s shadow. It’s the bodyguards’ responsibility to keep tabs on her, even if they do a horrible job of it.”

As if on cue, the faint whine of a siren could be heard coming from the other side of the emergency exit door leading to the outside.

The siblings exchanged a curious look but said nothing.

* * * * *

An hour and a half later…

The back of the limo was completely silent even though all four Watanabe children were present.

The elder children were trying not to stare at the blond girl, who stared quietly out the window, apparently oblivious of the blood trickles and splatter down the front of her otherwise pristine blue dress.

The earlier ambulance had indeed been because of Nyoko. She had wandered away as usual, getting lost in the crowds of tournament attendees and participants. Without the protection of the Watanabe entourage, the ten-year-old stuck out like a sore thumb by her Caucasian features.

Three teenage boys followed her to one of the side hallways and proceeded to harass her. Nyoko cryptically explained to her father that one had touched her, so she bit him.

The scream of pain from the boy immediately drew a crowd to the hallway. The bewildered adults didn’t know what to think when they saw the blond girl calmly standing to the side with blood dripping from her lips and chin, with a severed finger at her feet.

When the full story came to light, the Watanabe entourage decided to go home once the patriarch confirmed with the authorities that the matter was going to be settled with a check to the victim, to cover both medical costs and to buy silence. It was clear that Ichiro Watanabe was quite amused by the entire incident, even regarding his stepdaughter with a certain amount of pride.

The elder Watanabe children reacted with widened eyes when they were told the entire story in the parking structure. They knew that their adopted sister was strange but this incident was beyond any of their expectations of her.

Nyoko remained silent after talking to the authorities, letting others retell the tale to their gleeful pleasure. She alternately watched the frenzy around her or the serene view nearby windows had to offer.

As they sat in the limo, Takeo leaned over and whispered into his twin sister’s ear, “Guess she’s a real Watanabe after all.”

Yoshiko frowned and thought that Nyoko would have acted the same no matter what family had raised her.

* * * * *

The Watanabe Compound, 2031

Dressed in her gi and with her long hair pulled back in a ponytail, fifteen year old Yoshiko took a deep breath and focused inward, oblivious to the handful of people watching her every move in the large but private training hall. With a sharp burst of energy, she smashed her fist through the tower of four bricks.

The watching crowd of relatives and household staff clapped in response, their politeness keeping the noise down to a respectable level, making them sound a lot less impressed than they were.

Ryo leaned over the Takeo and whispered, “Told you she’d be championship material. If Father actually watched her, I’m sure he’d let her compete.”

The elder brother made no response other than to watch his sister with undeniable pride.

Yoshiko allowed herself a pleased look as she flexed her hands.

She looked up and saw a lone figure in the shadows, which had been present since the practice session began. Nyoko merely stared back from her seat, showing her usual intensity.

At first Yoshiko had been annoyed by her attention, but she had come to realize that perhaps the focused stare was a sign of envy.

As Nyoko grew older, her body showed more pronounced frailty. She never had symptoms such as coughing or shortness of breath. In fact, she had never been sick with as much as a cold. Yet, everyone looking at her would immediately think she had some sort of wasting disease. However, the irony was that her face matured with undeniable beauty, and she was tall for her age, even though she was noticeably gaunt. Even her father had stopped making her perform, leaving her to become even more socially aloof.

Yoshiko ignored her stepsister and began to focus on the next tower of bricks.

The sound of a throat clearing grabbed everyone’s attention. The elderly head butler stood at the dojo door, looking very sad to be there.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he announced with a shaky voice, “but Madame has requested the presence of the children immediately. We fear she is not going to last much longer.”

* * * * *

Half an Hour Later...

With an ashen expression, Yoshiko stood stone-still as her mother reached up with bone-thin fingers to undo her daughter’s ponytail.

“You’ll make such a beautiful bride,” Madame Watanabe whispered, tear tracks down her pale, hollow cheeks. She entwined her fingers in the luxurious, long hair before her. “I’m sorry I won’t be there to see it.”

Yoshiko gave her a soft, reassuring smile. “I’ll feel you with me, Mother. You’ll see the wedding for yourself.”

The ill woman smiled back. However, then she looked at her seriously and said, “Even when you take on another name, never forget that in your heart and soul that you are a Watanabe.”

Her daughter nodded solemnly.

Having already said her final words to her husband and sons, Madame Watanabe looked at her other remaining child. Seeing that she was now to be the focus of attention, Nyoko stepped forward to the bedside.

The woman suddenly took a sharp, haggard breath, and shuddered. She collapsed back against the bed, her expression blank and glossy.

The house staff women suddenly sobbed and moaned in mourning. The father Ichiro and Takeo looked grim while Ryoku openly cried into the nanny’s arms.

Yoshiko herself didn’t cry but she found herself looking at Nyoko.

The eleven-year-old girl looked at the display of grief around her. Her blue gaze finally settled on the body before her. She showed absolutely no expression, either hiding her own grief, or a direct reflection of the fact that she felt nothing at all.

* * * * *

The Mitsushita Mansion, 2033

Sixteen-year-old Yoshiko looked around the richly decorated building, destined to be her home after her wedding in the following week.

“You’d never guess a bachelor lives here,” Ryo muttered to his siblings as he looked around.

“I think it fits him perfectly,” Takeo murmured. “Never around and has a decorator and staff to take care of everything at home. Seems you lucked out, Yo.”

“I have no concerns,” she stated as she glanced over at the servants who were busy moving her belongings into her room. She still had quite a bit of essential clothing left back at the Watanabe Compound, but at least the bulk would be taken care of.

Off to the side, her father was chatting away to the quietly listening Nyoko about the various pieces of Eastern and Western artwork in the hallway. Kano Mitsushita was occupied with discussing things with his lead butler.

Yoshiko walked over to the large windows, which looked over the inner courtyard. Down below was an Olympic-sized swimming pool, framed by elegant Greek artwork and well-kept hedges. The area was empty except for two key figures lounging by the head of the pool.

Two gorgeous young Japanese women were enjoying the sun’s rays, one rubbing suntan lotion on the other. The two women exuded potential sensuality, even more so due to the fact that they only wore bikini bottoms.

Yoshiko glanced at her side to see her brothers staring wide-eyed at the same sight. Blood almost seemed to drip from their noses.

The girl suddenly felt a presence standing behind her. With a clearly amused tone, her fiancé commented, “That’s Rumi and Rika. They live here as well. You’ll meet them at dinner.”

Then the man left without another word.

The siblings looked at each other knowingly, having already grown up with their own father keeping such women around the Watanabe Compound.

“His mistresses, no doubt,” Takeo commented. “I have a hard a time picturing them doing housework.”

“At least not with clothes on,” Ryoku murmured.

Yoshiko looked at the women with a more critical eye. Then she asked her brothers softly, “Would you two acquire mistresses?”

Takeo shrugged. “Only if Shiina proves to be… lacking,” he said, referring to his own fiancee, whom he wouldn’t marry for two more years because she was only fourteen.

“I honestly never thought about it,” Ryoku admitted. Unlike his elder sister and brother who needed to secure the family line, he had been currently spared an arranged marriage.

Nyoko was also unengaged. Although, some people would privately remark that no one would want to marry the girl with her frail health, and especially after the biting episode. Their father also hadn’t pursued the matter, apparently replacing the void of their mother with Nyoko’s seemingly attentive company.

Takeo nudged his older sister and gave a nod at the vision of flesh before them. “Do you have a concern now?”

She looked at the other women for a moment. She answered, “No.”

* * * * *

The Mitsushita Mansion, One Week Later…

Dressed in an elegant Western style wedding dress, Yoshiko gave a nod to the bowing butler, who had opened the bedroom door for her.

Enjoying the moment of solitude after a very hectic day, the new bride undid her veil and pulled out the pins in her hair. She knew she would only have a few minutes of privacy before her groom was expected to arrive.

Approaching the center of the large suite, she paused in her steps as she caught sight of the well-lit, opulent bathroom. Dressed in bathrobes, Rika was tending to the large bathtub while Rumi was looking at the bottle of champagne on the counter.

The women paused and greeted her with a bewitching smile.

“Hello, little sister,” Rumi said, using the private nickname they had created upon their first meeting. “Welcome. We’re here to prepare you for the rest of the night.”

“Oh?” Yoshiko responded carefully, noting that next to the champagne bottle were four glasses and a steaming mug.

Rumi picked up the mug and walked over to Yoshiko. “Here, drink this. It’ll help you get into the right frame of mind.”

Yoshiko accepted the drink even though she never stopped studying the other women. She took a long drought of the warm, sweet liquid with a slightly bitter aftertaste. Almost immediately she felt a soothing warmth start to flow within her and her mind started to float.

Clearly amused, Rika tilted her head and asked, “So, are you truly a virgin?”

“I am,” she said simply, aware that the other woman now stood behind her.

“But she’s not a fragile flower despite her purity,” Rumi remarked with a giggle. She expertly reached up and started to pull down the zipper before her. “Rika, I told you this would be fun.”

Yoshiko felt her entire body start to burn in an unfamiliar but tantalizing way. Her mind couldn’t focus, seemingly overwhelmed by physical sensations. Before she knew it, she felt herself engulfed in provocative caresses and kisses over her now nude body.

For one final moment of clarity, her mind sharpened at the sudden sight of her new husband standing nearby, taking a sip from the champagne glass as he watched the three women with a very pleased smirk.

* * * * *

The Katsuragi Hotel, 2034

Dressed in her most elegant kimono, Yoshiko sat quietly at a table full of some of the most powerful men and women in the Eastern world. After four months of marriage, she was quite used to the role of the beautiful but quiet young wife. She didn’t mind, having expected this from watching her own mother’s behavior whenever her father had guests to impress.

She looked at her father and Nyoko across the table. Her brothers weren’t at the charity event, instead enjoying themselves on a vacation in Hawaii.

Before she could dwell too much on their absence, she overheard her husband tell the table the news of her pregnancy.

“Congratulations, Mitsushita!” the Prime Minister declared with a hearty slap on his back. “Are you going to find out the baby’s gender?”

Yoshiko’s husband grinned. “I haven’t decided yet. There’s something to be said about knowing. But being surprised has its own appeal.”

Her father Ichiro Watanabe beamed proudly. “Yoshiko is young and healthy. You’ll have plenty of chances at sons if you don’t have one the first time, Kano!”

“Too true,” he conceded. Then he added with a roguish wink. “But she’s learned quite a few tricks from my mistresses to make the attempts memorable alone!”

Stunned, Yoshiko’s eyes widened at the comment.

The men all roared with appreciative laughter while most of the lady companions giggled.

At that point, Yoshiko happened to lock eyes with her stepsister Nyoko. The blond girl merely smirked back.

Yoshiko felt her face redden in response but she gritted her teeth and kept quiet, pretending to ignore the comments. For now.

* * * * *

The Mitsushita Limousine, Later…

As usual, the husband and wife sat quietly on the ride home.

With his eyes closed, Kano had his tie undone and his head tilted back, relaxing after an evening of fine food and alcohol.

Yoshiko sat staring straight ahead.

Finally, she said softly but firmly, “Your comments made me sound like a whore in front of everyone. My own father included. Don’t ever talk about me like that again in public.”

As if he was asleep, her husband didn’t move. Then he opened his eyes and straightened. He stared at his young bride, who continued to focus straight ahead.

With the speed of a snake, he punched her in the cheek, causing the young woman to slam against her side of the limousine.

Then he closed his eyes and tilted his head back again. He calmly stated, “You’re sleeping in the hallway until I say otherwise, whore.”

Trying to regain her bearings, Yoshiko gingerly touched the aching corner of her mouth. She looked at the blood on her fingertips as she felt a tooth had been knocked loose.

She looked at her reposed husband and then turned her attention to the view of the passing lights of the city at night.

* * * * *

The Mitsushita Mansion, Even Later…

Even though the servants were clearly concerned about her battered and bloodied appearance upon their arrival home, Kano’s simple command of “leave her alone” kept all of them at a distance, even the waiting mistresses. Yoshiko kept to herself as she quietly took her post in the hallway, outside the bedroom door.

Well past midnight, Yoshiko mentally replayed the events and words of not only that night, but of previous significant events and conversations as well.

She paused and listened, noting that no one else seemed up at that point in the night. She then looked at the tooth she held in her hand. She ignored the numb pain of her mouth as she closed her fingers around her now cherished possession.

With her mind now made up, she stood and walked down the hallway to the study that Kano used as his office when he was home. She walked over to the cabinet of guns that were on display and picked the lock with a hairpin, a skill she had learned from one of her family bodyguards.

The main focus of security was against intruders from outside of the mansion, under the assumption that nothing would ever happen within the home.

Yoshiko picked out the smallest gun with a silencer. She prepared the weapon with expert precision, another skill she learned from the family bodyguards. She loaded as many bullets this model could hold, pocketing the rest of the box in her pocket.

Now fully prepared, she walked back to the bedroom and opened the door. She flipped on the lights, getting a bewildered reaction from the bed’s three occupants.

Yoshiko pointed the gun at her husband and said firmly, “Rika, Rumi, I suggest you two stay in a guest bedroom for now. I have something to discuss with my husband. And please close the door behind you.”

Panicked and scrambling for clothing, the two women hastily left, leaving a wide-eyed Kano staring at the barrel aimed at him.

Yoshiko then smirked at him and stated, “You seemed to have forgotten you married a Watanabe. I am now going to remind you of that fact.”

* * * * *

The Watanabe Compound, Two Days Later…

“You bitch! Do you have any idea what you’ve cost this family?!” Ichiro Watanabe yelled, giving the young woman a powerful slap.

Dressed in a shirt and pants, Yoshiko tumbled to the floor, knowing that this would only be the beginning of her punishment.

The speed and quiet efficiency behind the cover-up of her murder of Kano was the clear silence of the pending storm of her father’s anger.

She looked up at the crowd of people gathered in the large hall, gathered the same way for her uncle’s execution five years before. Half of the onlookers wearing expressions of shame while the others bore heartache. Her brothers looked ashen. Nyoko sat quietly in the background without any expression at all.

Yoshiko suddenly felt her father pin her bleeding face against the wood floor while he screamed other obscenities and insults that sounded blurred to her. She felt him grip the wrist of her right arm, showing that he was ready to wrench it backwards.

The only view Yoshiko had was the staring Nyoko. In that moment, the younger girl gave her a provoking look, as if she was offering a silent challenge.

Yoshiko felt herself react without thinking.

In a flash, she used her legs and free arm to free herself from the older man’s hold. Before anyone could react, she was on top of him, her arm locked around his neck. With a powerful jerk, she snapped his neck, much to the amazement and shock of the onlookers.

Yoshiko calmly got to her feet and stared defiantly at the stunned bodyguards, some with their hands on their pistols, but otherwise not sure of what to do. She then looked at her oldest brother and bowed.

“I submit myself to your authority as the new head of the family, Takeo.”

Her brother blinked and then looked at the crowd as they all seemed to comprehend what she had just said.

Takeo looked at his twin sister, and they exchanged a look that confirmed a much deeper understanding. He then gave her a formal nod and said, “Yoshiko, you are pardoned. Servants, prepare the body for proper burial….”

* * * * *

The Mitsushita Mansion, One Month Later…

Completely recovered, including freeing herself of her pregnancy, Yoshiko lounged under the sun as she enjoyed a relaxing afternoon by the pool.

Rika was floating on a raft in the water while Rumi was doing her daily laps.

“Ms. Watanabe,” the elderly butler said as he approached with a phone on a tray. “It’s your brother Takeo.”

She took the phone, to see her sixteen year old brother sitting in the main office of their family home, still immersed in getting up to speed on all family business matters. “Yes?”

“I don’t know if you truly care, but I thought you should hear it from me first,” he answered, appearing a little perplexed more than anything. “Nyoko seems to have completely disappeared. The servants wager that if she took anything, it would be a bag of clothes at the most.”

Yoshiko arched her eyebrow in response. “Think she ran away? Where would she go?”

He shrugged. “She didn’t leave a note or let anyone know. In fact, we think she had been gone for a day since she didn’t show up for dinner last night, but that’s nothing unusual.  So far there hasn't been any activity on her bank account.”

She pursed her lips thoughtfully for a moment and then said, “The only true connection she had to our family is gone. Thinking about it, she has no reason to stay now that she doesn’t have the role of being Father’s lapdog anymore. Perhaps it was just as well.”

Takeo mulled over her words and replied, “Thinking about it from that perspective, perhaps you ultimately did her a favor by giving her freedom. Father was clearly blind to the fact that she had no affection for any of us, himself included.”

“You make it sound as if she owes me. Or used me.”

He shrugged and said, “Or, she merely took advantage of a side benefit of your actions.”

She dismissed the topic with a shrug. “Well, let me know if anything else comes up.  Keep her bank account open just in case.  Bye.”

Yoshiko looked up at the blazing sun ahead, a little unsettled by the possible thought that she had been a tool for the younger girl.

If that had indeed been the case, as far-fetched a possibility as it could be, she was certain she would see Nyoko again. But under what circumstances, she couldn’t begin to imagine.

With that final thought on the matter, Yoshiko took a deep breath and relaxed, enjoying the goodness of life at the moment.

~ The End ~