The Old Senpai
A Nephrite & Makoto Drabble in Five Chapters
By Adins
Chapter 1 – The Lonely Millionaire
REUTERS, Tokyo – Following an unprecedented single day gain of over 325 in the Asian market the previously unknown Gemini Corporation plans to unveil its landmark organic microchip technology at this year's Progressive Electronics Summit in Los Angeles. This new organic CPU technology promises to redefine how the electronics industry benchmarks processor speed, offering tremendously enhanced performance over even the most powerful of Intel's silicon-based Pentium microprocessor.
A true rags-to-riches story, Gemini was founded in 1995 by CEO and then-recent college dropout Sanjouin Masato. Under Masato the company entered the dense technological market and through innovation in both research & development and leadership has now poised itself to become a new major competitor against Intel and AMD for dominance in the microprocessor market.
Continued on page 18.
Long, wavy strands of auburn hair spilled into Masato's face as he scanned the newspaper. A quick hand over his scalp righted the problem and he glanced unfavorably at an open window in his office. It had been a mild, calm spring day a few moments earlier and now it felt like winter was trying to make a return appearance with chilling breezes and an ominous gray sky on the horizon.
The millionaire frowned at the window, not bothering to close it, and leaned back in his chair, winding his fingers together to support his head. The plush, executive leather was impossibly comfortable and he dreaded the thought of having to leave it. The Day Timer in front of him was pathetically trying to motivate him with pages upon pages of hastily scribbled appointments and engagements. His head was pounding with a merciless headache most likely attributed to the absurd amount of champagne he'd indulged in the night before at an Associated Press party in his honor. Alcohol. Of all the inventions man hath wrought …
Finding the will to continue, he reached for his coffee mug and downed the bitter black contents in one gulp, spilling quite a few scalding drops on his newspaper in the process. Unfazed, he continued reading down the headlines that for the last several weeks have been about or expressly mentioned him and his company. He smiled every time he saw his name in print. It was a far cry from the endless tongue-lashing and menial labor he'd endured through his education working at his father's welding business. He could only wonder what sort of taste lingered in his father's mouth after having to eat his own words for so many years.
Masato would call and ask if only he knew his own father's phone number.
Perhaps it was the brief thought of his estranged family that drew his eye to the police reports section of the newspaper. He grimaced again noticing a very similar headline as he'd seen for the past few weeks.
Local Athlete Found Dead– The fifth in a bizarre string of deaths, a prominent local athlete was found dead in her home late Saturday night. Suspicions were raised after the tennis star failed to appear for several media engagements earlier in the day. Police have refused to release the woman's name until the family is notified. As with several other murders in recent weeks the woman was found alone in her home with no visible marks or wounds. Preliminary tests confirmed she was free of poisons or other toxins and her condition at the time of death was similar to that of a coma victim. Police are wary to call the similarities in these cases the work of a serial murderer but local gossip has called the unexplainable deaths the work of a "shadow killer."
Masato's jaw tightened and his vision crossed for a moment as he tried to force down the knot in his throat. He was generally a peaceful man but something about this story made his head swim with disgust. A brief glimpse was all he saw: a face in terror. It was cloudy and featureless but it was inexplicably burned into his memory as if he was there when that poor girl met her grim end. He shook his head vigorously, forcing himself to focus on the day's tasks ahead.
Taking one last look through the paper he set it aside and walked out of his private office where at least a dozen people were waiting with messages and memos for him. Taking everything in polite stride he eventually found himself in the elevator, and then the lobby, to the spinning doors leading out of Gemini's headquarters. He fumbled with the sunglasses tucked in the inside pocket of his luxuriant blue suit and they eventually found their way to the sidewalk. Before he could bend down and reach for the fallen glasses he was met by a sickly crunch and they were no more.
The perpetrator jumped almost a foot into the air as she stepped off the broken glasses. Sanjouin Masato groaned to himself and looked up at her through squinted eyes, now forced to deal with the blinding midday sun. The first thing he noticed was how tall she was. Even from where he was half-kneeling on the ground he could tell that she easily stood to his chin and Masato was a rather lanky man himself. His heart began to bleed immediately as he saw she was almost on the verge of a seizure she was apologizing so fast and so forcefully. Her chestnut ponytail bounced around her head like a rubber band as repeated her regret over and over.
"What's your name?" he found himself asking as he picked up the smashed remains of his glasses, not particularly perturbed as he could easily buy another pair.
"Kino Makoto, sir!" she cried with a bow, "I'm terribly, terribly sorry. I didn't even see you dropped them until I--"
"Hey, calm down," he said soothingly, "It's just a pair of glasses; it's not a big deal."
"But… but they look really expensive and--" she was cut of again.
"And I can buy a dozen more just like them," he chuckled, enjoying the perks of being a multi millionaire, "What's more important is that you calm down and take a few deep breaths before you pass out."
She nodded her head and tried to breathe normally which proved difficult in the given situation. Masato had to smile to himself having so easily subdued the hysterical girl but his grin immediately disappeared when he noted the clothes she was wearing: a green and white school uniform with a long pleated skirt. He realized that she couldn't be much older than fourteen years old, maybe fifteen or sixteen at a stretch. He suddenly felt extremely self-conscious and became acutely aware of the concerned faces leering at him as people passed by on the busy sidewalk.
Makoto seemed more or less composed but that didn't make him any surer of his next actions. The crowds rushed around them giving them their own personal bubble to inhabit in the middle of the crowded downtown street and as Masato watched them passing by he could only wonder if this schoolgirl even knew whose glasses she'd stepped on. She was intently studying the ground at her feet, apparently wondering what the next course of action should be.
"I guess you're on your way to school to be in such a hurry," Masato asked apprehensively and the girl nodded in reply, "Where do you go to school?"
"I go to a private school in the Juuban district," she told him quickly.
"Juuban?" he asked astonished, "That's two or three miles on the other side of the city!"
"I know," she replied sorrowfully, "Usually I take a bus across town but I was late this morning and I don't, uh…"
She trailed off and Masato asked, "What? Why don't you grab a taxi over?"
"I don't really have the money …" she said distantly.
"Couldn't your parents give you the change to get a ride across town?" he asked.
Makoto's face fell slightly as if she'd had to answer this question dozens of times before but she simply answered, "I live alone."
"Oh," he replied tersely, wondering just how much he'd hurt her while making a genuine ass of himself.
"I'm very sorry about your sunglasses," she quickly returned to apologizing, "I could get them fixed for you if you'd--"
Again Masato cut her off, "I already told you not to worry," he took a breath and sighed, "But I'm sure this whole thing has made you unacceptably late for school so why don't you let me give you a ride?"
Makoto's eyes went wide and she stuttered, "What?"
"Trust me, I know the value of a good education." The college dropout smiled, "My driver is one of the best in the city. He can have us in Juuban in less than ten minutes."
"No, I couldn't ask you to go out of your way for me," she refused politely, "Besides, I'm the one who should be doing something for you after running over your glasses!"
"I'm not going to ask you again to forget about it!" Masato ordered in a placatory manner, "And it's my fault for dropping them like an idiot in the first place."
Makoto wanted to refuse again but taking in the millionaire's stern glance somehow began to soothe her and she relented. Masato smiled and voiced his appreciation as he led her to the edge of the sidewalk where a sleek looking limousine stood waiting. Inside she was met with the most luxurious, elegant vehicle she'd ever laid eyes on. The rich brown leather seats were accented with numerous gold and silver appointments. The seats wrapped around the interior of the vehicle in a U shape and a low table sat in the middle currently littered with newspapers, memos, and the occasional Guitar Player magazine.
"I'm kind of a wannabe rock star," Masato confessed with an impish grin and shouted to his driver, "Juuban district!"
"I don't really know what to say," Makato said slowly, "I don't know how to thank you, I … I don't even know your name!"
"My name is Sanjouin Masato," he introduced himself and reached out to shake her hand, "It's a pleasure, Mako-chan."
"Mako-chan?" she asked herself, obviously struck by the fact that he'd be so openly friendly with her. She immediately shook her head and tried to compose her thoughts and said, "I think I've seen you on television before."
"Yeah that stupid box really likes me," he replied evenly, "I'm a rather successful businessman."
"I would imagine you'd have to be to drive in a car like this," she replied, marveling at the details of the limo.
"I don't lie to myself about my success and ask whether or not I deserve it," he explained, "I can't afford to be second guessing myself all the time and that's also why I can't afford to get hung up on a silly thing like broken sunglasses."
"I really am sorry," she stated with finality, obviously wanting to drop the subject as well, "Although I feel guiltier about having you drive me across town."
"It's nothing, really." He said and gestured out the tinted window, "I'm going to be all over the city today so it's not like I'm going out of my way."
"Oh." Makoto replied somewhat dejectedly.
"No! No, no, no!" Masato mentally slapped a hand to his head as he tried to repeal his last statement, "That's not what I meant! I mean, I'm going out of my way, but, uh … I mean, I'd probably eventually be on this side of the city anyway!"
"It's all right," Makoto said laughing lightly, "It's just nice to know that there's still people out there who, um …"
Again she trailed off and Masato asked, "Who … what?"
"People who will unconditionally help other people," Makoto finished, "It's nice to know there's a couple genuinely good people left."
"I think there's probably more than a few," Masato said cheerfully, impressed by how worldly wise this young woman was.
"Sir, we're here," the gruff voiced driver suddenly announced.
"Wow that really was fast!" Makoto exclaimed as she saw her school building loom into view nearby.
"I told you, he's one of the best!" Masato proudly announced as the driver opened his door for him from the outside.
The unlikely duo stepped out of the limousine in front of Makoto's school where the majority of students outside in Phys Ed class stopped dead in their tracks to gape at the tall girl and her stunningly handsome companion. Her face flared bright red immediately and Masato chuckled as he placed himself between Makoto and the leering children.
"I'm sure you'll be the center of attention today," Masato said to her.
"Yeah, I guess," she replied less than enthusiastically, "I don't really relish the thought of having to explain this situation over and over again to the whole school. I'll have enough problems at it is explaining why I'm so late."
"Here," he said and hastily scribbled something on a piece of paper, "If your teachers give you any problems just tell them to call my office. I'll let them know what happened so we can use the sunglasses as your cover story."
"I… I don't understand," Makoto stammered, "Shouldn't this be going the other way? I'm sure you're late for some kind of meeting or something now."
"Probably," he chuckled back, "But like I said I'm sure there's more than a few of those 'genuinely good people' around, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't do my part."
"I still don't know what to say," she said while looking at the ground and then her eyes, shimmering emerald, shot straight up into his, "I have to repay you."
"No, that's quite all--"
Now it was her turn to cut him off, "Do you like curry?"
"I, uh … what?" he tripped on his words, surprised by the question before it registered, "Yes, actually."
"Well then I'll cook you up a batch of my world-famous pork curry," she announced and winked at him, "I use an exotic South American annatto seed in it that gives it a real kick so I hope you like it spicy."
"You really don't have to trouble yourself," he said warily both fearing for her own monetary security and that of his gastrointestinal system.
"Nonsense!" she shouted defiantly, "I know you're probably a very busy man so I'll just drop it off at your big office building on my way to school tomorrow."
"Um … all right," he acquiesced without much effort, "You'd better get going before they start sending people out to look for you."
"I will, thanks again," she agreed with a bow and began to back away, "Thank you so much."
"Anytime." He said and waved goodbye to her as she deftly ascended the stairs of her school, never taking her eyes off him until she passed through the doors.
Sanjouin Masato had to smile in spite of himself. Makoto certainly was young but she seemed to possess an ageless wisdom, as though she'd lived more than one lifetime. His thoughts drifted back to their brief conversation and he assumed that she lived alone because she was either an orphan, or her parents had for some reason disowned her. He could not imagine why anyone would refuse such a gentle, beautiful creature so he figured the first option was more viable.
He could appreciate her reluctance to allow him to driver her to school. Many times he'd refused much of the same aid when he was working graveyard shifts to help finance his failed college effort. His parents had decided long ago that they were not going to support him in any of his endeavors leaving Masato to forage for himself in the untamed urban jungle. It was only through sheer determination and ceaseless hard work that he'd attained the success his father had always told him would forever be out of reach.
Makoto's smile held no agenda or double meaning; she was simply a friendly girl who, like him, was alone in the world. For all his wealth, friends, and success, Masato was a very lonesome man. A good deal of wine in the system could spell the difference between whether or not he brought a woman back to his bedroom after a party but the following mornings always left him feeling empty and worse. He shuffled through his pockets again and pulled out the broken sunglasses and smiled. For as foolish as her irrepressible need to repay him was Masato would indulge her. Perhaps he'd be surprised and find that she was a wonderful cook, or perhaps he'd end up eating a bowl of unbearably spicy, rubber-tasting curry but he would enjoy it either way just knowing he'd helped her.
Cries of unrequited love and attraction from the Phys Ed fields snapped Masato from his daydream and he sheepishly turned to wave at the throng of adoring adolescents before climbing back into his limo and speeding off into the city. The rest of the day through media interviews, meetings, and mixers he couldn't live down the anxious feeling of seeing what kind of culinary concoction Makoto was going to bring to him the following day and he wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to put it out of his mind.
The girl screamed as she ran. Drops of rain pelted her face and her shoes kicked up sprays in the collecting puddles. A wall loomed in front of her heralding a dead end. She moaned and shrieked in panic as she searched the walls for something to grab on to or a door that would lead her from her terror. There was nothing nearby but a dumpster full of rotting plants but even if she wanted to she lacked the strength to climb up and hide inside. The case of her violin clattered loudly on the ground as she dropped it and the young redhead collapsed to her knees crying for the entire world to hear.
A pale light from the moon breaking through the layers of rain clouds cast a horrifying shadow over her. Her assailant glanced down at her through dark brown eyes that seemed to burn around the edges with a red flame. The man cracked his knuckles through white dress gloves and the thin slivers of his teeth stretched across his shrouded face in a sneering grin. The girl shook and shuddered beneath his terrifying gaze and a brief streak of lightning illuminated the space around him revealing a uniform of military gray with strange epaulettes on his shoulders which were almost covered by his long, billowing auburn hair which somehow remained dry in spite of the pounding rain.
"What do you want with me?" she screamed at him and tried to stand.
The man didn't speak as he reached down with his right hand and clamped his powerful fingers around her throat, lifting her off the ground to hang in his grip as though she weren't even there. Her hands shot up to his and unsuccessfully tried to pry his iron grip away from her throat. She pounded her fists into his arm but her blows continued to weaken as the burning in her lungs increased. The man's only reaction was a satisfied, malevolent smile.
"P- please!" she begged hoarsely, "Let me go!"
"Silly girl," he suddenly spoke in a deep, rasping voice that was strangely recognizable, "If I did that my Queen would be displeased."
He stretched out his left hand far away from his side and wisps of blue energy like smoke began to coalesce at his fingertips, drawn directly from the body of the helpless redhead. She opened her mouth to scream again but no sound emerged. Her eyes darted back and forth and spasmed in her head before rolling back lifeless. She hung limp in the man's grasp as the wisps of energy continued to travel from her, forming into a shimmering azure ball hovering just above his hand.
Finally after her life had ebbed the attacker released his grip on her throat and the girl crumpled to the wet ground. The Cheshire grin never wavered from the murderer's face and just as he had come he quickly receded leaving absolutely no indication that he was ever there at all. Sirens could be heard quickly approaching but the hapless police would never find him and another dead woman would fuel the gossip about the mysterious "shadow killer."
That suited him just fine, for now.