Losing Masks

by Nicholas Metelsky

  Flattery is good, and it means that I am underestimated. I wonder why they invited me at all?

  We talked for about forty minutes. Of course, I didn't spill my guts to him and didn't tell him too much about myself. But I dumped a whole bunch of meaningless information on him, such as hopes and assumptions about the development of the Internet in the future, different technical nuances of IP technologies, and so on. I enjoyed watching the expression on his face during our conversation. It's not that he frowned or anything, but the moment when he stopped trying to understand what I was talking about was quite obvious.

  But everything has an ending. So did my verbal diarrhea. It was commemorated by the arrival of a maid who said that dinner was ready and they were waiting for us in the small dining room.

  At dinner, in addition to me and the head of the clan, there was also one of his wives and the Elder—the father of the head. I was not concerned about how it happened that Aketi Yudsuki had become the head of the clan while his father was still living. So I didn’t ask anything about that. I had suspected that his wife, Aketi Akako—a physiognomist and psychologist—would be present there. Of course, I wasn’t happy about that. At least, I did not forget to ask Kagami about the Aketi family. Otherwise, I would have been completely unarmed. The son of the head, by the way, did not stay with us for dinner.

  “Greetings, Sakurai-kun,” said the head of the clan, sitting at the head of the table. “Please,” he pointed to the empty seat.

  For about five minutes, Akako lulled me with ridiculous and childish questions until her husband finally chimed in.

  “Tell me, Sakurai-kun, what makes you so confident that you can hold the reins of Shidotamoru?”

  Wow this type of question, huh?

  “I do not quite understand the reason for your question, Aketi-san,” I confessed after a couple of seconds of pondering. “I'm sure you would not ask questions out of pure interest, and yours is completely correct. Therefore, I apologize for my ignorance of the canons.”

  “Aristocratic bloodlines do not rely on paperwork, Sakurai-kun,” the old man, sitting to my left, replied. “We make agreements with a person who is responsible for violation of those agreements.”

  “But we can’t live without paperwork nowadays,” Akako added sadly.

  Don't think I am so gullible to believe her sadness.

  Anyway, the answer was more than understandable. England is a great example. In the Second World War, they violated a couple of contracts that were not signed personally by their government. I know that from my history classes. Nothing terrible happened to them.

  “Well. Thank you for the explanation, Aketi-san,” I nodded to the old man. Then I looked at his son and continued, “Before I answer your question, let me ask you something. What prevents the bloodline that you manage from arranging a shogunate in a separate clan?”

  There was no negativity in my words, but I could see that he wanted to retaliate with clarifying the difference between aristocrats and commoners, lecturing about honor and duty, and other fluff. He restrained himself and did not say anything, though. Judging by his hospitable facial expression, he understood me and accepted what I was saying. Although the main thing, I would never hear the most important thing from him, which was reputation: what is the point of being a member of a clan, if it is treated like dirt? How could the head of the clan allow this? I hope Aketi Yudsuki understood what I meant. “In Shidotamoru, I am the head, and I don't need any papers to prove this.”

  “A decent answer,” he shook his head and then changed the topic suddenly. “Try the shrimp, Sakurai-kun. It's nothing like Kagami-san's cooking, of course, but they turned out pretty darn good.”

  He was still pondering over my words: the fact that he hadn’t tried the shrimp himself gave him away. I'm sure he wouldn't snag one from the kitchen before dinner.

  Over the next half hour, nothing significant happened. All questions I was asked were, at best, ordinary and did not carry any important meaning.

  It is clear that I am being read now. They are trying to compile a psycho-portrait. That's why the questions are so different. I just wonder, do they understand that it looks impudent for me? Or do they think that I'm not aware of Aketi Akako's role? Even if she’s not taken into consideration... This is an important question, by the way.

  In short, I spent half an hour trying to satisfy their curiosity, until something happened.

  “Uncle Yudsuki!” I heard a youthful and joyful voice behind my back.

  I don't know what she was so happy about, but the first thing she did was run to the head of the clan. Since Yudsuki was sitting in front of me, and the entrance to the dining room was behind me, she could not know who the stranger at the table was, but she did not seem to care. I was offended a little: not that she paid no attention to me, but the fact that the head of the clan allowed her to brazenly interrupt our business dinner.

  That is, they don't value me very much here. It's a shame. But I'm a patient guy. Especially lately.

  The girl ran up to her uncle, hugged him, kissed his cheek, straightened up, and turned her head toward me. And then she fainted. But the head managed to catch her limp body.

  “Hmm, it really works. And I did not believe it,” Aketi Yudsuki said.

  Cripes.

  “It seems that we've found justice on her,” the Elder grinned.

  These jokers framed us. I’m not sure, whom exactly, though. They don't care about the contract. They don't care about me. I'm nobody to them. I want to find out what they decided in regards to the contract. I'm pissed that I have to bow and scrape to them, not knowing whether it is still necessary. And what if it’s not? All I can do is smile when they treat me like crap. This is unforgivable behavior in the face of a possible partner and even a stranger. Calm down, Max, relax. I can even feel my smile turning into a scowl. Clean up Yaki. I hope they didn’t feel anything. Yep, they did. They got tense, I can see it.

  “I'm sorry, Aketi-san, but I'm running out of time, and I have to go.”

  Take this, jerks. I don't care about you either.

  “Once again, I beg your pardon,” I got up from the table, “it's business.”

  They surely did not expect this from me. They had gotten used to common people kissing the ground they walked on. They did not even say goodbye, which wasn't merely an insult—it was just ill-mannered.

  “Shinji-kun, wait,” Yudsuki said, still holding the girl in his arms. “Please sit down. Give me a few moments.”

  I was angry, but not enough to ignore the request of the head of one of the strongest clans. So I had to sit back down. Yudsuki left the room, carrying his niece in his arms. Literally six seconds later, he returned without her. He must have handed her to the servants who were standing behind the door.

  Returning to his seat in front of me, he paused for a moment before talking.

  “Please forgive me, Sakurai-kun. The Aketi clan brings you our apologies.”

  Wow, he apologized on behalf of the whole clan. Funny. And most importantly, it leaves me only two options.

  “I accept your apologies, Aketi-san. Let's forget what happened.”

  Of course, I will not forget that, and the old man's frozen face speaks a lot about the head's apology. Hmm. Ideally, I should enter into a contract with them and stay away from the clan after that.

  “Once again, I apologize, Sakurai-kun, but all these rumors about the behavior of my niece in your presence... We just could not resist,” I did not say anything. “You see, Toremazu has a complicated personality, and her behavior is doubly surprising for those who know her.”

  Complicated personality, heh. Add her rank of Veteran to this and it becomes quite scary. Especially for those, whom she nails into the ground. I doubt that she is completely wild, who would then let her go to school with other children, but “complicated personality” is an understatement, from what I’ve heard about her. And how are they going to find her a husband? Oh, Lordy! They must have done a backg
round check on me. No, it's nonsense. Paranoia. It can't be.

  “You know better, Aketi-san. Personally, I know nothing about her personality.”

  “Ahem. Yeah. So. You, probably, will be pleased to learn that we have decided to enter into a contract with you,” the three of them exchanged glances.

  Either they had made a decision in advance, or they understand each other without words.

  Also, I realized that they like radically changing the topic of discussion.

  “My assistant will be delighted,” I hinted at the fact that I accepted the apology, but I had not yet forgiven them.

  I realized that I was vainly showing off, but I could not resist. I was counting on my age. Sometimes it comes in handy.

  “Oh yes,” the old man said, “an assistant. I hope he gets better soon.”

  Heh, hinting that they are watching me. Only I don’t understand, why did he say “I hope”? Are not they all... ah-ah-ah.... I get it. That's their way of humiliating me, as if saying that doing business with Taro is much more pleasant. Bratty old man. Just like me.

  “You can rest assured,” I nodded. “In a week, we will go to the bowling alley to celebrate his recovery.”

  An innocent phrase, if you didn’t know that the second son of the head of the clan was involved in a scandal in one of the city’s bowling alleys. That was my answer to their “we are watching you”.

  That’s how the second part of the dinner went. The old man and I teased each other, while Yudsuki and I led a heartfelt talk about the current generation. I was able to say only a few phrases to Akako. When I was already leaving, they gave me two and a half pounds of “Dento but Aji”. I must have impressed them if they gave me such good tea.

  ***

  “Well, what do you say?” Asked the head of the clan Aketi, when they settled in his office.

  “You should not have apologized on behalf of the whole clan, son,” the eldest in the room spoke first.

  “You should not breed enemies, Father. It is not difficult for me, but he was imbued. Right?” He looked at his wife.

  “He was rather surprised. But in our case, that's fine,” Akako said.

  “He is too arrogant,” the Elder decided not to continue with this subject.

  “I would say, proud. He started to get impudent after Toremazu came in,” the woman shook her head.

  “That's true. A worthy young man. But arrogant.”

  “I don't get it father: did you like him or not?”

  “Take it however you want. but I'm not a woman to like men.”

  “You like to complicate things,” Yudsuki sighed. “Can you say something more specific?”

  “If he gets the coat of arms—and it looks like that’s definitely in his future—then Tori-chan might be taken care of. If not,” the old man thought, “there are a few interesting options.”

  “Ahem. Hmm. Akako?”

  “As you could see, he's clever. It gets interesting. His knowledge of etiquette is very mediocre.”

  “I wouldn't say so. Why are you saying this anyway?” The head of the clan did not understand.

  “We have just witnessed aristocratic blood of one generation in action. That's what manifested his pride, most likely. Takeshi-san, can you imagine a teenager, a commoner, without proper upbringing, who quarrels with you at a business dinner? Without crossing the boundaries?”

  “Well, he lives in the Koyama neighborhood. Most likely, he picked up things there?”

  “Yes, things. Yes, picked up...”

  “Should we just ignore the fact that his parents were exiled? This guy could come in handy,” the man asked his wife and father.

  “No,” Takeshi said. “Koyama can get away with it, but we should not risk our reputation.”

  “Yes, and Koyama probably has his own plans for him,” the woman added. “For sure he does. I wouldn't want to get in their way. Marrying Tori-chan to him is one thing, but taking him into the clan can turn against us.”

  “Alright, I heard you. What else can you say?”

  “It seems that the contract itself is...” Akako hesitated, “not very important to him.”

  “Well, that's interesting. And it's also strange. Father, can you find out how much he depends on the Koyama when it comes to business?”

  “I'll try,” the old man shrugged. “But based on what I already know, he doesn't depend on them at all.”

  “Yes, that's what you said. But dedicate more attention to this issue. And I'll see if he has any connections with the aristocrats. And why did we not notice him before?” He asked rhetorically. “Is there something else?”

  “It seems like that's it for now,” the woman answered.

  “Too much attention to this guy,” the Elder said.

  “Well,” the head of the clan shrugged, “the things you do for your beloved niece.”

  Epilogue

  In a completely empty hall of an expensive restaurant, one of the tables was occupied by a young Caucasian man. Dressed in a white shirt, black trousers, and a black sleeveless shirt, he resembled a waiter. Only a brooch with a stone of heavenly color framed by white metal, hanging above the man’s heart, was a sign, even for an uncultured person, that a waiter could not have SUCH riches.

  “It turned out pretty good,” the man twisted his plate with a steak on it. “I did a good job.” Looking around the table in front of him, he noted, “Something is still missing. Or perhaps, on the contrary, there’s too much of something,” his gaze fell on a pitcher with juice. “Whatever,” he waved his hand. After that, he picked up the silverware and started eating.

  The man ate, taking his time: he had no place to rush off to. Savoring every bite of the meat that looked terribly appetizing, he glanced at the ceiling of the dining hall from time to time.

  “Indeed, something is missing,” he said into nowhere, cutting off another piece of meat. Looking around the completely empty hall, the walls of which faded in the dark atmosphere of the restaurant, he finished, “I even know what. Yes.”

  He picked up another piece of meat with his fork, but suddenly stopped. After that, without moving a muscle, he glanced to the left.

  “Wow,” he drawled. “What a surprise. And just on time.”

  And then he continued to eat.

  About a minute after the man's statement, a Japanese figure in a traditional man's kimono materialized right from thin air near the table.

  “Why are you so surprised? Have a seat,” the Caucasian pointed the fork that was in his hand at the chair opposite him.

  “And what... “ the guest began, but then he pulled himself together, slightly bowed to the person sitting, and said, “Shinigami, at your service. Could you clarify where I am and who you are?”

  “You know,” the Caucasian man said after he finished chewing another piece of meat, “I could show you all my knowledge of courteous communication, but somehow I am too lazy to do it. So, let's finish with the bows. Sit down.” The Japanese continued to stand even after these words. “Well, you...” The man stumbled, “are a bore. Has anyone ever told you this?” Silence in response. “Sit down,” great power emanated from the seated man. “Do not make me nervous.” As soon as the Japanese sat down in front of him, he introduced himself, “Nikolay.”

  “Khm,” Shinigami cleared his throat. “Pretty... simple name.”

  “It only seems so,” the host shook his head. “Anyway, that's what my mom and dad named me.” After a second, he added, “At my first birth. The very first.”

  “Conqueror of the people,” the guest whispered.

  “Yes. That's one of the meanings of my name,” the owner of the table broke away from his steak.

  “Does it mean something?” Shanigami asked cautiously.

  “Oh,” Nikolay waved his hand, “I've done so much in my life. Yes, I've conquered some peoples too. Nations and worlds. I've been a peasant and an emperor. Actually, I was named after my grandfather.” After chewing another piece of meat, he asked, “So what
about your name?”

  “I don't want to lie, but telling my true name to a stranger is not very logical.”

  “That's reasonable,” Nikolai nodded. “Only now I'm NOT a stranger. You just didn't recognize me.”

  “I have excellent memory,” said Shinigami carefully.

  “I believe that,” the guy nodded. “It's just that I look... different now.”

  “Perhaps, you know my name?”

  “Of course, I do,” Nikolai nodded, cutting off another piece from the steak. “But the trouble is, that when I sent you all around the worlds, you all looked the same. That goes for all newborns.”

  It took just a moment for Shinigami to understand.

  “Lord!” He fell on one knee.

  “C'mon you. Creator—yes. You can call me daddy. Lord? No, not at all. And, as you can see, I'm a little... weakened, per se.”

  “For us, you will always be the Lord,” Shinigami remained on his knee.

  “Get up, Guardian, and sit down.”

  “Yinsani, Lord. This is the name given to me by you at birth.”

  “Well, there we go. Now that we know each other, you can have a seat.”

  Having risen from the knee with an absolutely straight back, Shinigami sat back down on the chair. Not that his face showed some special joy or admiration from the meeting with his creator, but he was definitely inspired.

  “I apologize for the possibly stupid question, but where are we?” asked Yinsani after he got comfortable in his chair.

  “Oh! My personal invention: the perfect hideout.”

  “A hideout?” the Guardian asked uncertainly.

  “Yep,” he got a cursory nod in response. “I'm hiding here.”

  “Umm... You? Hiding?”

  “Can you believe it? I am hiding. Like I said, my powers are not the same as before.”

  “Order, Lord. I will do everything in my power.”

  “If you only had these powers,” Nikolai grinned. “The entire kindergarten wouldn't be able to do much. Oh well. I didn't pull you out here to help. I'm just bored, that's it.”

  “Bored?”