Prequel 3 - The Bitter Taste of Truth
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Within the penthouse office of the of the largest business complex
in downtown Tokyo, a phone rang insistently. It continued to ring for
several minutes amid the immaculately arranged papers and desk
ornamentation, ignored by the occupant of the large chair.
Finally, the chair turned in a slow arc, and a slender arm
extended toward the device, removing the receiver. Brushing aside her
long lilac hair, the woman listened distantly, then issued a curt, one-word reply.
"Hai," she stated, then hung up.
Turning the big chair back toward the massive windows, she again
gazed out over the city she virtually owned. The years had been very good to
her, and she had managed to amass a personal and corporate worth far in
excess of her wildest dreams. She had taken the successful company her father
had begun, and in just over a decade, transformed it into a major world
empire. At last report, it was sufficient in size and assets to outright buy any of
the G8 countries.
Her accomplishments to date would have made her father proud, had
he not succumbed to a heart attack five years earlier. Yet, at this point in her
life, none of that mattered anymore. She was incredibly rich, incredibly
powerful, and incredibly... Bored.
And had been for the last couple of years.
What made it all so unsettling was that prior to her current state, she
had been unstoppable. She had taken the typical Japanese drive to succeed to
new levels, soon eclipsing any and all competitors. However, she noticed that
with each goal attained, her life became less satisfying... Even less interesting.
It was as if something was missing.
It hadn't really bothered her until the last month or so, when she'd
completed the biggest coup of her corporate career. Normally, she would have
thrown a massive party, and made sure the world knew that her company now
owned the American operation known as NASA.
But his time... She just hadn't felt like it. And in fact, she had
done something this day that she had not ever done in her life. She had
arrived at work at 6:35am. Five minutes later than usual. And what
perplexed her the most was that it didn't bother her at all.
Such a thing would have usually resulted in someone being fired on the
spot, with no options. Shaking her head, she sighed softly to her reflection
in the huge window before her.
"What's wrong with you?" she asked it, almost expecting an answer.
When it didn't come, she grinned at her moment of silliness.
Sighing, she picked up the phone once again and buzzed her personal
assistant. When the girl answered, she uttered a single emotionless
sentence. "I'm going home."
Upon her helicopter landing at her palatial hilltop estate, she
headed straight for her bath house, intent on trying to soak away her
strange mood. Peeling off her business suit and catching a quick rinse,
she strode out into the perfectly temperature controlled water and
stretched out on her back, allowing the warmth of the bath to envelop her
completely.
The sensation brought a content smile to her face, but she still
felt more than a little odd. Something wasn't right with her world, and
whatever it was wouldn't let her relax.
After soaking a bit longer, she made her way to her bedroom and
dressed, wondering what she was going to do next. She hadn't had a
day off in over a decade, which made the entire concept somewhat foreign.
Upon instructing the household staff that she was not to be disturbed,
she sat quietly on her balcony and simply let her mind wander. She had
been told long ago that such a simple act could often help one think, as it
loosened the restrictions of structured, purposeful thought.
Slowly, images began to take shape in her mind, ranging from
business to her earlier bath, all in a random jumble that seemed to make no
sense. She fond herself remembering her father, some of the things she had
created over the years, and even some of the people she had met. Nothing
seemed to have any great significance, however, much to her chagrin.
Sitting up, she sipped at her iced tea thoughtfully, then rose and
walked to the railing of her balcony, casting a long look over her
expansive property. Below her, she noticed a Bentley limousine pull up,
and the driver scurry around to open the passenger door. She smirked to
herself at the sight, noting that it was only a Bentley, and not even
custom made. She shook her head, knowing she wouldn't be caught dead
in such a pedestrian vehicle.
Turning back to her lounge, she knew her staff would send the
visitor packing, so she didn't concern herself with who it might be. Even
so, she heard the conversation at the main entry below her, and glanced
back over the railing to watch the show.
What she saw hit her like a slap in the face.
The woman at the entry wore a dark scarf over her head, and upon
being refused audience, turned and strode back to her waiting car. As she
approached it, she pulled the scarf off, revealing a very full head of poorly
colored flame-red hair. Upon almost diving back into her car, she
departed in a cloud of indignance.
On the balcony, she stood stunned, the image of that head of red
hair replaying in her mind. Who her disappointed visitor had been meant
nothing, but that hair certainly did... Especially when attached to a
certain person.
Suddenly, everything became crystal clear, and a wry smile spread
across her paled face. She now knew what her problem was, and the
realization came as a bit of a shock.
Slumping back in her lounge, she shook her head in disbelief. She
could barely accept what her mind was telling her, even though she knew,
deep inside, that it was the truth.
Most of her life, she had strived to be the best, able to emerge
victorious over any and all challengers... Except one. This one person
had been a constant source of aggravation, because no matter what she'd
tried, she'd been unable to beat her in any decisive manner.
Her wry grin changed to a smile as she put the pieces together. Two
years ago, the person in question had vanished, and at that time, she felt
that she'd won. She had forced her adversary into hiding by becoming
the most powerful woman in Japan, if not the World.
At least, that's what she believed. As she thought about it however,
it became apparent what had really transpired.
With the disappearance of her most hated opponent, there was no
challenge left in her life. There was nothing left to prove, no more
windmills to tilt at, no more... Fun. Life had become routine and boring,
with even major corporate conquests and breakthroughs in R & D holding
no excitement.
It was a bitter pill to swallow, but she resigned herself to the sad
truth of it. Everything she was, everything she had accomplished was
because of one woman. A woman she had spent most of her life hating
and trying to demean and belittle. She suddenly realized that without her
around to remind her of her greatest failure, she was gradually losing the
desire to succeed.
The irony of it all abruptly struck her as incredibly funny, and
she began to laugh out loud.
"Who would have thought that I'd owe it all to you!" she blurted
out, amid a fit of hysterical laughter. As she laughed long and hard,
another startling realization crept up on her.
She needed to get that person back in her life, or she was doomed
to a path of slow self-destruction. The additional irony of that thought
made her laugh even harder, bringing tears to her eyes.
After a few moments, however, she sank to her knees, sobbing
into her hands.
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END - The Bitter Taste of Truth A Project: Ako FanFic by Coutuva.
Comments Welcomed, Flames Extinguished!
coutuva@gmail.com
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