Chapter 1 and 2 because I'm obssessed with OCs like that. Nevermind the millions of unfinished fics languishing on my profile... anyway could someone shout out if she gets too Mary-Sueish? Please and thank you.

I disclaim.

~Mari

Prologue;

Before all else, my father was a businessman. He had spent his whole life building Redman industries, toiling endlessly on products and meetings and business trips and unco-operative clients, but I think he met his match in Mr. Ootori. He was a little like my father, I suppose. He had a strong, commanding presence about him and a look in his eye that would certainly be frightening if it was turned towards you. But he was also distant. Father had never been a distant man. Preoccupied, yes. Busy? Oh yes. But never quite distant. It would've been easy for us to have grown apart, but somehow he was always there.

My mother was quite a different story altogether. She was quite a shrewd woman- I loved talking to her. She seldom spoke, however when she did her tongue was brusque and cutting. She never missed a trick. She was also quite a beautiful woman. Long, long lashes, a soft, round face, and deep brown eyes. Laureli Redmond. Even her name was elegant. She was a social worker. She hated it, I think. I don't know exactly how she ever got pushed into it, but she was quite obviously not a 'people person' as my nanny called it. She was one of the strongest women I knew.

Which is why it was quite shocking and somewhat surreal when I found out she had AIDS. It didn't compute with the image of the unshakeable pillar of strength she was in my head. Sometimes it was really easy for me to forget she was just human. The two years before she died were the two best years of my life. Frequently father would simply drop everything and come back home to see us. Or better yet, he would take us with him. To Paris, Italy, Beijing. All around the world. Anywhere she wanted to go. I knew mum more in those two years than the fourteen previous.

I said as much at her funeral. Mr. Ootori was there. Along with his two sons and other business men whom my father was acquainted with and in whom I had no interest. Just as they had very little interest in me. The wake was a farce. There were people loudly bemoaning her loss and crying very hard whilst carefully not shedding a single tear lest they ruin their make up. I left early and hid in the garden for about an hour, clutching a bottle of stolen whiskey and trying to work up the nerve to actually down it. Eventually I gave it up as a lost cause, bowing in defeat at the image of my mother's disapproval in my mind's eye.

I did go back, when I was sure most people were to drunk to care much about being overly polite. Small talk was frustrating when you were as exhausted as I was. I went to say goodnight to my father, swaying a little because in the end, I had managed a few rather large burning sips of the alcohol and was quickly discovering I had no tolerance for such things.

"Goodnight, dad." I said and stooped to kiss him. He jerked back, nose crinkling at the smell and looked at me pointedly. There would be trouble in the morning, but after a moment he nodded and offered his cheek. I noticed his eyes were a little red. So he did cry. Somehow, it made me feel better.

Mr. Ootori was sitting on the large sofa across from father's armchair with his sons on either side. Looking detached and emotionless. His sons strived for the look too, but there was something in the tenseness of their shoulders and the rigid set of their jaws that told me their stoniness was put on. For their father's sake maybe. The one on his left, the younger one, kept fidgeting. Obviously quite uncomfortable.

"Sir." I bobbed briefly, forgetting for a moment that this was the twenty-first century and only mum still believed... had still believed that girls should do that sort of thing. He nodded back slightly. And stood, towering over me, and his two sons followed automatically like mindless robots.

"You have a lovely home Richard, but I'm afraid must take my leave. There are a few matters of pressing urgency which must be attended before I return home."

"Ah," Father stood, politely. "By all means, its quite late. I'm just about ready to turn in myself." He turned to me thoughtfully. So did Mr. Ootori. Suddenly I felt like I was being scrutinized. Like I was being measured under the gaze of these two giants, and I did not like it in the slightest. I tugged slightly on the sleeve of the- suddenly too tight- dress I was wearing. Black of course. I didn't look away though. Once dad had told me that the corporate world was like that. If you flinched, you lost. Like wolves fighting for dominance.

I twitched a little, but didn't look away. Mr. Ootori nodded at me in what might have been approval, but I was far too scared to understand. Hands were shaken, pleasantries exchanged, staring contests held, and finally father let me go with a brief and cryptic, 'We have much to discuss', and a meaningful look shared with Mr. Ootori that I had not the time nor will to decipher.

That was the first night I ever had nightmares. They chased me throughout the whole night, and when I finally woke up at three a.m, dizzy and sweating, I couldn't remember anything except that I had been alone. And my large, lavish, empty house quietly taunted me as I lay in the dark.