Prosper
The Gift ギフト
Tsuyoshi Tatsumoto
Long strokes upon the rice paper canvas. Part of me wants to rip the creation from the wall while the other sane part whispers the words of my long gone, Okasaan. “Give it time, Tsuyoshi let it breathe a little.”
My gentle, beautiful, vibrant mother, taken from me too soon, leaving only the gaping wound in my heart and the other love of my life. My younger sister, Mei.
Mei, who has moved me to do what I should have done years ago.
I make a long swath along the surface of the paper, watching it soak in the pigment of my strong, deliberate brush.
Calmly I work on my macabre masterpiece for exclusive anonymous markets for millions, a secret indulgence of mine.
Losing myself in the time of my newest masterpiece, I barely hear the light knock.
“Enter,” I say to the brave soul who dares to disturb me. It is an unwritten rule never to interrupt me during my time of private reflection.
The attendant rushes in, going nearly prostrate on the floor before me, apologizing for the intrusion, only rising once I assure him that all is well
Shifting, I return my brush to its home.
“Obayaan, there is a gift from the Takeda.”
“Ah.” I muse. Knowing it is anything but a gift.
My sister very publicly ended her engagement to the Takeda’s cousin, the cousin of the head of the shadow syndicate,when she ran off with her assistant The only reason we have not broken out into a full-on bloody war is because Kiyoshi Takeda was so enamored with his own little distraction he couldn’t be bothered to retaliate for the insult.
Still, having a Takeda give face in such a manner will not go unanswered.
I don’t turn from my work when my men bring in the box giftwrap with a huge black bow.
I think back to the conversation I had recently with the head of the Takeda…
“I have a gift for you.” I continued to ready the canvas I was prepping. The voice over the phone is just as cold and dead as mine. Good.
“This gift — when shall I receive it?”
My phone vibrates. Opening the encrypted file I read the content.
Black female. Late 20’s. 5’2. 82 kilos — good I like them curvy.
“Hai. Arigatō, Takeda-sama.” Allowing him to hear the smooth satisfaction in my voice that only a fellow sadist recognizes.
I smile to myself.
“Do you want it back?” I ask, bemused looking over the file details. Ah, she must be culprit who aided his wife in leaving. Poor thing.
“It wasn’t mine. Do with it what you will,” he says dismissively, already bored.
“Hai. It will be my pleasure.” Came my calm reply.
Now the gift sits as I circle it, letting the anticipation rise.
Standing before it I do a quick risk assessment — if the Takeda was instead betraying me.
I hedge my bets on the fact that despite the insult, Mei dealt his cousin, Akchiro Takeda, is not a man who likes chaos, and killing me would do that.
I pull the ribbon, and the box falls open, startling the woman curled into a fetal position, completely bound in black ribbon.
The moment my gaze rests on the russet of hers, I know she is going to be a problem, and why this particular gift was given to me.
Before me lies the notorious billionaire heiress, Prosperity Shipmoore — the marriage breaker, said to have her run her own underground railroad for recalcitrant wives. And she’s looking at me with eyes full of spite.
“Oh, little one, I’m going to have fun breaking you.”