Chapter I
I looked at the blossoming lilies in the pond, I missed being here with him, it felt ethereal, like a dream fleeting to live amidst a garden a thorn. It’s been a while since I got to breathe this air, the ambience I got when I was 21 and first landed here earlier, this time vanished as soon as the similar landscape came into sight.
I am tired of being responsible, I don’t even remember the last time I laugh. My children, are worried for me. Even though it’s been 12 years since I left this country, the void didn’t fill. No matter how hard I work, how high I get, how far I go, the incident still burns in my memories, like it occurred just yesterday.
“Mom, are you going to wait here, looking at those lilies or play with me and brother?” My 17-year-old, Junnie, asks me.
“I am coming, don’t you bother him too much.” I replied.
“Seriously mom? We hardly went to any vacation together; you and brother are always working.” She further added.
“I said I am coming, and I know we haven’t had any vacation since your 12th birthday. I am trying your best, my sweet princess.” I sighed.
“Thanks mom.” She cheerfully squealed.
“Brother! How is my daring sweet little brother?” Seokjun exclaimed.
“Yes, but what does my sweet little cat want? We both know that you act like this when you want something.” Jeong retorted to his sister.
“I want that. Pleeeeeeease. Please. Please brother. I will be good.” She pleaded.
“No, you aint getting anymore chocolate boxes, you have a fridge full of it.”
“If you buy me this, I will give Teiko’s number” She smirked.
A few minute later, “There you go.” Jeong huffed.
“Thanks brother, you are the best. And here is her number.”
Seokjun snatched the box, quickly slipped a folded paper into Jeong’ hands and ran away with a mischievous grin. Jeong opened the slip, his heart thumping, only to find a single number 8, his smile faltered.
Junnie one, Jeong zero.
_______________________
Away from all of this, a person stood out in the crowd off Ganzhou market. His broad chest complimenting his sharp features. The unmistakable golden frame glasses hiding sharp eyes who managed to woo every girl, yet held many sorrows. His large hands carrying many bags. He looked as if God himself carved his features. This was Taro Takahashi, heir to the undergrowth of Japanese Yakuza.
He looked at these two strangers from afar, wishing his sister too would be like this. Yet unknown to what was waiting for him. Carrying his bags and a heart full of longing, he drove towards his home, with city lights fading in his rearview mirror.
He reached his home as a bustling bungalow nestled between acres of widespread gardens, extravagant fountains and heavy security. The weight of the day finally settled on his shoulders as he stepped inside.
From inside, loud noises of chattering and cutlery filled the Takahashi Estate, a staking contrast to the silence of his loneliness. The sweet, heavy fragrances of various flowers, and aroma of culinary and spices filled the air as he entered the dining room. The dining room, a resplendent hall with magnificent sculptures and paintings readied for the Takahashi’s guests, the polished mahogany furniture scintillated under the soft light of the chandelier, the crisp linen napkins set meticulously, the chairs neatly tucked and the traditional China cutlery, usually reserved for special occasion, were aligned with every chair, complimenting the crystal stemware.
The old Takahashi, Taro’s grandfather and former leader of the Yakuza, Takumi was quietly sitting on his armchair, lost in the pages of poetry. Taro’s grandmother, Hana, was knitting sitting in her usual place. “Everything is set, right? We can’t get anything misplaced here, it’s a matter of Sora’s in laws. All the meals are prepared- - Taro? Is it you?” Yumi, Taro’s mother stopped in her tracks upon seeing her son after 3 years. “Mother.”
“My son, how are you these days, you know how worried I was, since you moved out, you never called me?” she desperately cried.
“Mom, I am fine, you know I am busy, I usually get home late so I so not have much time to speak on phone.” Taro replied.
“It is because of your father; you are not calling? I know you miss her, but not talking to us won’t solve the problem.”
“Mom, I know not talking to you won’t solve the problem but it would hurt less.” Saying this Taro went away while Yumi stood there knowing her words won’t make him leave his life and return. Yet both don’t know what fate has for them.
_________________________
“Mom, come here and look at these. These look so good on me. Oh gosh I love these earrings. Mom, please buy them for me. Please. Please?” Seokjun pleaded her mother.
“Ok. Ok. But you have to wear them, they should not be locked up in your closet.” Sabyeok conceded.
Sabyeok sat down a bench, her body exhausted from 4 hours of shopping with her daughter. Even being the head of the French Mafia doesn’t tire her this much. She has been surrounded with people as long as she could remember. Her Elder brother, Jiho was her idol, their parents, apple of her eyes. Her life was vivacious with a doting father and loving mother, with two beautiful sets of grandparents. Unbeknownst to her, her father was the head of South Korean Mafias, the Namhae Ring while her mother came from the House of Yun Clan, a family of silent assassins operating since the time of monarchs. She only got to know about her lineage when she turned 18 during her family’s personal banquet. She takes pride in being the Donna of La Maison Noire, meaning the Black House, which rules the underbelly of French mainland. It’s been 12 years since she last saw her family. “Mom! There you are. How is this? Can I wear this on your birthday?” Junnie breaks the silence.
“My birthday?”
“It’s in 3 days, nom. Don’t you remember your own birthday? Can we please celebrate it this year? Please?”
“Do whatever you like.”
She did say, but deep down she didn’t want to celebrate her birthday. Her birthday felt like a curse to her. To her, she lost everything on that day. She would never be willing to celebrate it again. But she can’t refuse her daughter, can she?
,___________________
“Sir, do you want me to pack this for you?”
“Yes”
“Sure, sir.”
“Hey, is that you?” Female voice from behind calls him, causing him to stop in his tracks.
“Maria.”
“Kyle.”
