6:30am
        “Good morning Rei-chan.”

        “Good morning Minister Hino.”

        “Oka-san,” he corrected her.

        She did not answer directly but merely shrugged her shoulders at his correction as she sat herself at the breakfast table to join him.

        “I understand that there was a security breach last night.”

        “Oh really?”  Rei glanced up at him momentarily before continuing to choose her breakfast, “I wasn’t aware of it, it must not have been very serious.”

        “Rei-chan, I am talking about your window last night.”

        “I can’t sleep with my windows closed.”

        “Take a sleeping tablet, I cannot have you endanger the lives of any member of my staff here, we are politicians, we can be targets of any political assassin…,” he stopped when he noticed his daughter’s smile, “what are you smiling at?  Do you find the endangerment of lives a joke?  Does security mean nothing to you?”

        “I am merely wondering about your logic, you are trying to win a popular election and winning people’s hearts by day, yet by night you are scared of political assassins?  It seems to me that you are failing dismally at trying to convince people to like you.”

        “Good morning Imaruru, Rei-chan.”  Yukito breezed into the room cheerfully seemingly unaware of the underlying argumentative tone of the entire conversation, “isn’t she a delightfully astute observer.  My dear child, surely you must know that it is impossible for everyone to agree on the same thing.   My dear child, you’ll see today, your dear father is absolutely adored by everyone who meets him.”

        “I must be the obvious exception then.”

        “My dear child…”

        “I am not your dear child, my dear mother happens to be dead should my dear father have forgotten to inform you of the matter.  Excuse me, but I’ve had enough already.”  Rei pushed away from the dining table quickly and left the room.

        Imaruru sighed as he watched his daughter’s response to Yukito’s arrival, “Yukito, I feel that I must apolo…”

        Yukito cut him off with a wave of the hand, “its quite normal for young ladies to be abrupt and be unfortunately perceived as rudeness so early in the morning.  I’m sure that once we spend some time together, we will get along like a house on fire.”

        He chucked, “that doesn’t sound promising either my dear, and I also heard about your sleeping in my study last night, I hope nothing too…”

        “Nothing at all, it was a misunderstanding.  No, we have something much more important to worry about,” she handed him the newspaper; in a few seconds she witnessed him turning several shades of red, “this is going to be a hard one to deal with, we can’t contradict a dead woman’s word without sounding disrespectful, but it is the most damaging words we can receive from them.”

        “INOUYE!!…”  was Imaruru’s only response, “GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANCE!!” he bellowed.
 

7:15am
        “Rei-chan, we are leaving now, I want you to get down here so that Yukito can inspect your choice of dress for the day.”

        “Minister Hino, I am old enough to dress myself, in case you haven’t noticed that is.”  Came the reply from her upstairs.

        “Don’t make things more difficult that it already is.”

        “Then don’t take me with you.”

        “Rei, I raised my daughter to be trustworthy and to keep her promises.”

        “You didn’t raise me.”

        The door slammed and he could hear his daughter’s haughty footsteps from above as she neared the stairwell to the alcove that he was standing at.  When she appeared in his sight, his jaw nearly dropped; he could hardly recognize her as Rei, where had his little girl gone?  Dressed in her white and red miko robe, she stared down at him with raised eyebrows.  She was a splitting image of her mother, less willowy and fragile, but the resemblance was without doubt.  Before him, stood the replica of the woman he had met when he had visited Hikawa Dojo for his campaign more than 20 years ago.

Flashback
       “Hino-san, welcome to our humble grounds of Hikawa Dojo, we have been eagerly expecting your arrival today.”

       “Sensei, it is a pleasure to be here in this magnificent dojo, might I compliment you on the superb maintenance of the grounds by yourself and the other charitable volunteer workers.  My people no doubt informed you of my schedule for today and my reasons for coming.”

        “I thank you for your kind compliments in regards to the dojo, but iie Hino-san, you are mistaken, it was my daughter who informed me about your arrival.”

        “Your daughter?  How?”

        “We are a family of Shinto miko, to read the impending is an art that is passed down and trained.  My daughter is well versed in the limited talent she has in this particular art.  I know you do not believe in such matters, you are here for the media but you would rather not be here at all, would I be correct, Hino-san?”

        Choosing to ignore the question, he got straight to the point, “I want to do a reading about my career, and buy a charm to bless me on my future.”

        “The charm need not be bought Hino-san.”

        “Whatever you say.”

        “Hino-san, before we continue onwards I will forewarn you.  Once you step into the room of the Fire, your life will change; you will find yourself in a position to reprioritize your lifestyle, your habits.  I usually do not warn people in such a way as it will most invariably affect the workings of and paths laid by the gods, but I find the this may affect you to such an extent, it would not be correct for me to not warn you as you have come for our advice.  It is for you to decide if you wish to consult the Fire, but once you accept it into your life, it will be with you forever.”

        “Is this what you say to all your consulting clients?”

        “Iie Hino-san, only to you, only because it is true for you.”

        “Humph… which way is the room?”

        Imaruru followed the man whom he would later refer to as father, and entered a small waiting room.  The old man went on his knees quickly and touched his head to the floor once; Imaruru did the same; as soon as he had done so, a wafting soft voice beckoned for them to enter.

        He could feel beads of sweat already forming when the doors were open, he felt himself engulfed by a room of flames; it was as though he was entering an oven.  The woman in the room bowed to the flame opposite him, then stood and turned to face them.  Politely bowing to him, she indicated where he should sit with a simple gesture of the hand.  During which time the Fire suddenly flared; the changing air pressure blew her long dark hair upwards, it was as though the Fire was laying its claim.  Her face was long and thin, coupled with her dark her, her cheeks were pale but it gave her an oddly calm effect of pristine, as though her health had a direct linkage with her faith and her life was a gift directly from the gods above.  He was surprised that such a seemingly delicate woman could withstand these conditions; her miko robes were completely dry as though she did not feel the heat, whilst he was ready to faint at any moment.

        “Rei, what are you doing dressed in that… that… that thing for.”

        “You know very well what this is called Minister Hino, I believe that your late wife used to wear it.”  Rei answered coldly as she came down the stairs.

        “At suitable and ceremonial occasions only.”

        “A miko robe is suitable for all occasions, it denotes the wearer’s position, religion and belief as well as her humility.  Should you not remember, I am a miko in training; this is what a miko in training wears.  It is the highest honor of any miko in training to receive her robes, and it is also an honor for people to receive visits from one.”

        “I hope you brought other more serious pieces of clothing to this trip.”

        “This is the most serious piece of clothing that I have ever owned.”

        “I meant other pieces of clothing.”

        “I most certainly did, but I chose to wear my miko robes as I found it the most suitable piece of clothing for today.”

        “And pray what is today?”

        “Today is a day of bad omens.”

        “And your clothing is supposed to ward off the omens?  And when are you planning to throw evil wards on my people?” he asked sarcastically.

        “My clothing is representative of the protection that I can offer and the unwavering faith I have with my religion even in testing times.  It is a representation of the integrity of my being even in these circumstances, and it is the representation of morals for those who shall be looking to me.  I offer them the umbrella protection of my faith, and I am a symbol of the Shinto religion when I come to them in this attire.”

        He felt Yukito’s hand on his arm just as he was about to rebuke her, “I think that what you are wearing is a wonderful symbol, I’m sure the elderly citizens we are visiting will be grateful for it.  Although as you know, tonight will be a much more formal evening, seeing your natural ability to choose well, I don’t believe that I will need to help you with your choice of attire.”

        “I don’t need your approval on my dressing habits Kasugi-san, I have dressed myself suitably for the past nineteen years of my life.  I am well aware of tonight’s activities, and I will dress as I please and as I see fit for the occasion.  I assure you that I managed to dress myself appropriately for my own graduation, not that you were there to see it personally Minister Hino nor did I need you there.”

8:42am
        As their car slowly pulled into the elderly populated area of Osaka, they could see the representative citizens and managerial workers of the large Nursing Home waiting for them at the gateway.  Even from behind the tinted windows of their car, the reporters began to hound them, tapping at the windows to ask questions.  Kenta sighed nervously as they converged towards the front left side of the car, pressing their microphones to him even while the windscreen separated them.  In the backseat, Rei, Imaruru and Yukito sat together quietly; Yukito’s ceaseless list of instructions on how to conduct themselves had been stopped short when she realized that she could not hold their attention in comparison to the barrage of reporters outside their safely enclosed sphere of privacy.  Rei could not decide whether the bad omen lay in sitting in such close proximity with Yukito, or the hounding media that they would have to face once they left the protection of their black sedan.

        Once the car stopped, they remained seated until the security men from the leading car came to open the door for them.  Kenta was the center of scrutiny for the media as he stepped out from the front of the car, for a brief moment it seemed that Imaruru, who had sat directly behind him, would be secondary.  Rei, who had sat behind the driver’s seat, declined to exit on the right hand side of the car, instead, choosing to descend after Yukito on the left.  Her entrance had a hypnotic effect on the crowd as they stared at the miko who bowed politely with her hands clasping the beads of prayer in front of her.

        Smiling peacefully, she followed her father and Kenta’s lead towards the greeting procession; she bowed to each member of the convoy, taking each of the elderly member’s hands in her own as she spoke to them in a soft calm voice.  She thanked them and blessed their work, slipping easily into the role of a miko in training with her unruffled attitude and modest eye contact.  With her mind focused completely in facilitating and comforting the people, she barely noticed the astonished looks that her father and Kenta gave her as she reached out to touch the aching joints and worrying foreheads.

        Not for the first time today, Imaruru remembered why he had made the painful decision to send his only daughter several towns to his father-in-law’s dojo once his wife had passed away.  Even now, he was quite sure that his eyes were deceiving him when they told him that his wife was the one standing amongst the elderly population, yet his heart tried to overrule his mind.  Each time he looked towards his daughter he would once again be deceived until his head won the discussion.  His heartstrings tugged tenderly when he looked at her, wishing that he could forget the past pain, but knowing that with the pain, lay the blissful moments.

        When his wife lay sick in bed, he had not had the strength to face the impending fate to come, yes, he did speak of it as a matter of fact, but it never once registered in his mind that it would indeed occur.  When his wife died, he hid behind professional dignity and traditional protocol; from behind the protective walls of his work he never found the time to grieve.  It was only at night that he might succumb to the thoughts of loneliness when he found the space in his bed cold, or when he saw his daughter sitting quietly in the living room patiently waiting for his return.

        The first source of his memory was harder to revoke then the second.  To solve the first problem, he spent less time at home, less time to let memories seep into his consciousness.  As for the second, he merely had to send his child away; out of sight, out of mind, he would never again be reminded by this mirror image.  He did not keep any photos of his marriage visible, they were all imbedded memories in his mind that he would reflect upon when he felt that he was sure he could control his emotions.  As a man he could not be vulnerable – that piece of wisdom had been passed down and implanted into him by his own respectable father, even as a widower, his grief could not be let known.  He could not be allowed to hurt, if love and hurt came hand in hand, then by inference, he could not be allowed to love.

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