Chapter 9
I found myself watching Senji.
It had been a week since I met him in the park. And I can only think he is someone extremely strange.
His thoughts about death are a little out of the ordinary.
Once I asked him what his vision of the future was, trivial things like marriage and starting a family.
And he answered that he wasn't interested in that. But that his mother would surely pressure him to get married and start a family. So he would never really be single.
Or...
He said that if he were to die at any moment while still young, he could be described as someone who had been single his whole life, even if that life had been short. In the end, he would have died single and never had to marry or start a family.
Someone you could describe as terrifying.
Well. That same boy was now playing and having fun, kicking the ball with other kids.
"Homura, think fast!" The sound of the ball striking from Senji's kick carried it toward another boy with blond hair and violet eyes. Unfortunately for him, the ball smacked him right in the face. "Homura! I told you not to use your face to stop the ball!"
"Senji, you idiot! I'm not using my face to stop the ball! You should control your strength when making a pass!"
"Argue later! Homura, pass me the ball!"
Another boy came running up near Homura. His name: Kuze Masachika.
I met two of Senji's friends. Along with another very lively girl.
"Hahahaha! Senji, send another pass to Homura!"
Her intention was surely to see the tearful face of the one she called "brother."
"Don't say that, Ayazato!" Homura growled while rubbing his face, on the verge of tears.
Ayazato Suzuka was a very lively girl. At school she liked to always be moving. She played soccer, basketball, and had even been named "Class Representative" because of her friendly personality and how she made everyone get along.
"Kukuku!" Ayazato began to laugh disturbingly. "What do you think, Ai-san!?"
What do I think about that...
Seeing my confused face, she repeated the question again.
"What do you think of seeing Homura's pitiful state? His physical skill is very poor. His hobby is building toy cars. It's something he used to do with Izayoi-nii before his disappearance. He even built some headphones he gave him before vanishing like dust."
If it's that... it's true that Homura Saigou has poor physical ability. But now knowing that he spends more time sitting than doing physical activity, it's something that would take a toll on your body. Just as it is now for Homura. He tires more quickly than the other kids running across the grass field chasing the ball. Running from one end to the other to score a goal.
Homura falling behind all of them.
"...If he did even a little exercise to improve his cardio, he wouldn't be in such bad shape."
That was my answer. Watching Homura fall exhausted on the grass, complaining that he wouldn't keep running. The other kids mocked Homura for a while, before focusing again on the soccer game they were playing.
Ayazato also laughed at Homura for a while.
About half an hour passed. And Senji's group won the game. All the kids were tired and sweaty. Until a man in his thirties arrived with a cooler of water that was fresh—not ice-cold, not hot—handing it out to each of them to quench their thirst, though some used it to splash water over themselves.
"See you tomorrow in class."
"Bye."
"Take care, Homura-san, Kuze-san, Senji-san, Ayazato-san, and Hoshino-san," said one of the kids before leaving.
One by one they began saying goodbye.
"I'm heading out too," said Kuze, wiping sweat from his neck. "See you tomorrow at school."
With that, in the end only five of us were left: Senji, Ayazato, Homura, me... and the man who had brought the water. Or so I thought, until he received a phone call. After a few seconds, he nodded, put the phone away, and looked at Senji.
"We need to go, Senji-sama."
"Alright." Senji began to say goodbye, giving a hand wave to Homura and Ayazato. "See you tomorrow. By the way, Ai—" then he looked at me. "Do you want me to drop you near your house, or are you staying here?"
It was Sunday. I had nothing pending, and surely Homura and Ayazato would return to the orphanage, which was their home. If I stayed, I'd be alone in the park... and I didn't feel like it.
"Of course!" I answered with a bright smile, while I said goodbye to Homura and Ayazato and started to follow Senji.
"See you tomorrow, Homura-san! Later, Ayazato-san!"
"See you tomorrow, Ai-san!" Ayazato waved her hand side to side, full of energy as always.
"See you tomorrow," said Homura more calmly, greeting only with a slight movement of his hand before lowering it.
We arrived at a gray car parked next to the park. The man opened the rear door and we both got in. Then he walked around the vehicle and sat in the driver's seat. As he started the engine, the air conditioning began to fill the car's interior, which felt like instant relief.
The trip wasn't long. I lived near the park, but riding in the car, with that cool air and the comfortable seat, was the best part of the day.
When we arrived, I slowly opened the door and got out.
"See you tomorrow, Ai," said Senji, with a calm smile.
I smiled back.
"See you tomorrow."
I watched as the car drove away, turning at a corner until it disappeared. Then I walked to my house's door.
My mom opened it.
"Oh! You're back early, Ai-chan!"
"I know! As soon as the game ended, everyone started saying goodbye. Nobody was going to stay in the park! And Senji was leaving too! So he dropped me off on the way home while his driver took him somewhere else."
Mom looked at me with a smile as she slung her bag over her shoulder. She was about to go shopping, I noticed because she had her crumpled list and the usual reusable bag in her hand.
"Senji-chan is a nice boy," she suddenly said, as if it were a casual comment. "It's a shame we're not the same age... because honestly, I wouldn't mind dating someone as nice as him."
"What!?" My voice came out louder than I wanted, but she only laughed softly.
"Of course, of course, I know what you're thinking," she added, opening the door with a mischievous smile. "But honestly, Ai-chan... if you like him, you should put your little hands on Senji-chan before someone else does."
"Mom!" I almost tripped while taking off my shoes. "Don't say things like that!"
"What? If you've already brought him to the house, that's a sign," she teased, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "You know, good boys don't stick around long, and Senji-chan seems like a real gem."
I was left in silence, my mouth half-open, not knowing whether to laugh or shut the door and pretend none of this had happened.
"Besides, you talk about him a lot. More than you talk about anyone else. I'm just saying," she added as she left. "Don't let him slip away, okay?"
And with that, she closed the door behind her, leaving me there alone in the hallway.
I sighed, resting my forehead against the door.
My mom and her jokes...
Although I don't know if she was joking that much.
[•••]
Kukui, who was now my driver, took me to the city port.
We walked together among the docks, surrounded by cranes and containers freshly unloaded from the ship that had arrived that morning. It took us a few minutes to locate the one that belonged to us.
"Senji-sama," Kukui called after checking the number on the side. "I found the container."
"Good. Let's go."
We stopped in front of the huge metal structure. I pulled out the key I had been given beforehand and unlocked the padlock with a soft click. The doors slid open, revealing the dark interior, with one thing standing out at the back: a large, heavy safe bolted to the floor.
I went in and approached it.
I entered the numeric code on the front panel. After a sharp beep, the mechanism unlocked, revealing the contents.
Gold bars. Fifty in total. They gleamed with a muted shine under the dim light of the container.
"What do you plan to do with the gold, Senji-sama?" Kukui asked from the entrance, watching cautiously.
"Launder money," I replied naturally, without taking my eyes off the bars. "We'll use some as a donation to a charity foundation. The rest... will be used to build a casino."
"A casino?"
"One that works legally... and illegally." I turned to him. "If the Muramasa Clan has a positive image with the public, no one will bother to dig deeper. A respectable façade gives us freedom to operate from the shadows."
I took a moment to close the safe again, listening to the mechanism seal it shut completely.
"As long as we keep public perception on our side," I added, "we'll be able to move unhindered on the other side of the coin."
Kukui nodded with respect. He knew what I had just said wasn't a casual remark: it was the beginning of a long-term strategy.
Muramasa Clan Meeting
The meeting room was full, though an attentive silence reigned. Division chiefs, accountants, legal liaisons, and external representatives of the Muramasa Clan occupied their seats around the long central table of dark wood. The ceiling lights were soft, but they didn't mask the pressure in the air.
At the head of the table, sitting with firm posture, was Senji Muramasa. In front of him, a folder of documents detailing the clan's latest moves, expansion plans, figures, and a few financial projections. At his right, slightly apart but missing no detail, sat his father: the current patriarch of the Muramasa Clan.
Senji opened the meeting with a clear voice:
"The fortune that was entrusted to me will not remain stagnant. I will multiply it."
The murmurs stopped.
"The gold we received will be laundered through carefully selected channels. The first step will be a significant donation to the Fukuzawa Foundation, specialized in supporting homeless children and victims of domestic violence. That sum will be public. And it will resonate in the media."
One of the attendants scribbled notes quickly. Another raised a brow, but didn't interrupt.
"At the same time, we're beginning construction of two casinos: one in Osaka, another in Sapporo. Both will operate under legal regulations, but also with spaces that will allow us to maintain more discreet operations. Each structure will have a flawless façade. Advertising, investment in tourism, job creation."
Senji raised his gaze and swept the room with his eyes.
"The Muramasa name will be associated with economic development, with social responsibility, with progress. That way, when the time comes to make more... sensitive moves, no one will question our intentions. Because we will have built an untouchable public image."
A solemn silence filled the room.
At the far end, the patriarch watched silently. He didn't interrupt, didn't add anything. He simply observed calmly. That boy who once seemed indifferent to the family legacy now spoke as if the weight of the clan had never been foreign to him. Strategist. Cautious. Ambitious.
"When the day comes that I must retire," his father thought, "I will feel proud to leave him at the helm. Not because of the money. But because of how he carries the Muramasa name without faltering."
Senji closed the report and lifted his gaze once more.
"With this, we begin the new stage of the Muramasa Clan. One that doesn't need to hide... because it already dominates the stage from the center of the spotlight."
No one spoke. Only nods, some discreet, others firm. The Muramasa Clan had turned the wheel. And at the front... was already the next patriarch.
[•••]
NHK News | Breaking News
[Muramasa Group donates 800 million yen to the Fukuzawa Foundation]
"An unexpected act of philanthropy shakes Japan."
"The young Senji Muramasa has donated 800 million yen (approximately 5 million USD) to the Fukuzawa Foundation, dedicated to the care of homeless children and victims of family violence."
"The sum is one of the largest private donations so far this year and has drawn attention from both national and international media. In a brief statement, the Muramasa Clan's spokesperson declared that this act reflects 'young Senji-sama's commitment to a fairer society, as his father and his lineage have instilled in him.'"
"Simultaneous to the surprising 800-million-yen donation, construction has begun on two hotel complexes in Osaka and Sapporo. Although details remain reserved, it has been confirmed that both structures will operate under the trade name 'Muramasa Hotel & Resort,' with promises of offering luxury, tourism, and local employment."
...
In a temporary office set up on the Osaka site, Kukui reviewed the blueprints spread across a large white table.
The main building would rise 24 stories, with luxury rooms, a spa, convention center, gourmet restaurant, and panoramic rooftop. But what no media outlet mentioned—not even in open legal documents—was what the sublevels concealed.
With a metal ruler, Kukui slid his finger over the plan of the second basement: an area marked with restricted access, perimeter shielding, and hidden cameras. There would be the private casino, inaccessible to the general public, operating by invitation only.
"Everything's in order," he murmured while making a call. "The engineers have begun according to the planned design. The special sector will be finished ahead of schedule."
On the other end, a calm voice replied:
"Perfect. While the city sees a hotel... we'll build the true core underground."
Kukui hung up, rolled up the plans carefully, and smiled faintly.
The sun shone over Osaka. And the Muramasa name, at last, was being written under a new light.
Years later...
The hall gleamed with golden lights, red carpets, and an atmosphere thick with emotions... and desperation. Kukui, now dressed in an impeccable suit and carrying an imposing demeanor, watched from a distance as a man shouted furiously.
"This is fraud! I lost millions! I demand my money back!"
He was a ruined businessman, his shirt unbuttoned, the sweat on his face revealing not only tension... but humiliation.
Kukui approached slowly, hands clasped behind his back.
"Fraud, you say...?"
Kukui's voice wasn't loud, but it was firm. Enough for several to turn and look. The man glared at him with rage.
"I've lost everything! This is rigged! Nobody can lose that much!"
Kukui didn't flinch. He looked at him with a mix of disapproval and pity. Then he smiled, as if seeing an insect crawl before him.
"You came of your own will. You gambled of your own will. And you lost of your own will. And now you blame our employees for your mistakes?"
The man stammered, unsure how to respond.
"Pathetic," Kukui said flatly. "If you don't know when to walk away, then the problem isn't the casino. It's you."
Just then, from another table came a cry of excitement:
"I won! We won five million yen!" a young man shouted, hugging his girlfriend as the roulette lights flashed.
The crowd applauded, and even the workers celebrated with them. Kukui turned his face calmly, pointing to the scene with a simple tilt of his head.
"See? There are those who know how to play... and win. You just had bad luck. Nothing more."
Kukui leaned slightly toward him, whispering with an icy smile:
"And in our casino... luck is not lent to losers."
Kukui returned to his office, closing the door behind him. The walls were lined with dark wood panels, decorated with modern Japanese art. From the large screen, the entire casino floor was visible: the kingdom he helped govern.
He took off his jacket and hung it on a rack. Just as he sat down, his phone began to vibrate. He recognized the name instantly.
Haruka Nishida.
He answered immediately.
"Haruka?"
His sister's voice came through clear and direct, with her usual calm tone that concealed a strong character.
"Kukui. Senji-sama has reported that he will depart for Europe."
Kukui raised an eyebrow.
"Business?"
"Business... and something else," she replied with a slight pause. "He didn't give details. He only instructed that we'd be in charge during his absence."
"'We'd'?"
"Exactly. Each of the regional leaders will manage their territory. You know what that means."
Kukui nodded to himself, as if expecting those words.
"Then we'll hold the line. Everything remains under control here."
"I know. I expect nothing less from you."
There was a brief silence before Haruka added:
"Don't cause unnecessary problems. But if something gets out of hand..."
"I'll make decisions as Senji-sama would," Kukui replied firmly.
"I hope so. I'll take care of everything in the Kantō region. You handle yours as you know best."
The call ended with a faint beep.
"Europe, huh..."
He looked through the screen at the bustling casino.
"Seems this board will remain under my care for a while longer."
And so, the game continued.