Bishlov is back with a one of a kind Rika Sasaki-Yoshiyuki Terada Alternative Universe Romance fiction. Come and take a step closer to the unknown beyond...
Passion – strong emotion, as hate, love, etc; object of strong desire
WARNING: Will contain a bit of OOC-ness particularly with Rika.
Disclaimer: I do not own CCS or any of its characters. CLAMP does. This plot is a product of my imagination. Any similarities to other fan fictions are unintentional.
By bishounen lovah
This place had always evoked confused emotions in her. She loved it yet she hated it.
She loved what it represents. Culture. History. Centuries of those in every street, every corner and every step of the city. She loved the slow pace despite of the largeness of the area and population. She loved the temples, the castles, the festivals, the singing and dancing, the fresh air and the Sakura trees.
And yet she dreaded coming back here.
For this place, beautiful and peaceful it may seem, held awful memories for her. Memories she had long since left behind, buried somewhere in picturesque Kyoto. Memories that she had forgotten, had not unearthed since that fateful night five years ago.
'Five years. Had it only been five years?' Somehow it seemed like more than a decade. She felt old, wise beyond her years. And to think she had only turned twenty-three a month ago.
Independence did that to a person. She had been on her own since she was eighteen, but maturity had been forced upon her even before that day. That night when she had turned eighteen, she had vowed to leave this forsaken place behind, never to look back, never to return.
How was she to know that she would eat her words? For here she was, sitting at the back of a limousine, gazing at the line of trees she had bid farewell to years ago.
Why was she here? She should be in Tomoeda, caring for her young toddler students. She should be with her friends; people whom she knew cared for her. People who accepted her for who she was and loved her just the same. She should be with them, not here in Kyoto to face those whom she despised.
It was her father's doing. Even in death he found a way to torment her. Even in death he would not let her go. Why should he? After all, she was his only child. Too bad she turned out to be a girl. He had wanted a son—always did. He had wanted his heir to be strong and intelligent like him. But the great Sasaki Juzo only had her.
Sasaki Rika. Plain, estrogen-driven Sasaki Rika.
Yes, she was strong but her strength comes only from within. And she was intelligent. She could have taken over his businesses from the age of sixteen. But her father never gave her the chance...because she was not the son that he had wanted.
At first she hated her mother for giving birth to her. Now she was ashamed for ever thinking that way. Her mother had always loved her from what she had gathered. Her mother had adored her until an illness took her away when she was just three. The year that came after that was bad. She was young, didn't know what the word 'hate' meant. But hate her father she did. He never loved her, didn't even console her when her mama had gone to heaven.
Then things turned to worse.
He got his son.
Not a blood kin though. Terada Yoshiyuki was the son of Juzo's mistress from her first marriage. He was six years older than Rika. She was four and he was ten when their parents married. Yoshiyuki hero-worshipped her father and, in turn, the Sasaki magnate adored the boy.
And Rika was pushed further back.
If she had hated her father, she had loathed Yoshiyuki. Still did. He had stolen what she craved most. He had stolen her father.
For years she lived in his shadow. She tried to act like a boy...the boy that her father had wanted. But Juzo only laughed at her attempts. And Yoshiyuki went on to being the favorite.
It wasn't until five years ago that she stopped trying to get her father's attention. It was all pointless. She will never be that child that he wanted. So she broke free of the chains that held her captive in Kyoto and tested her newfound freedom in Tokyo then Tomoeda where she finally settled.
But it seemed that there were shackles chained around her ankles still. Why else would she be here? Why else would she go to the funeral of the man she hated? Why, with just one word from Yoshiyuki, had she come back?
Because she loved her father probably just as much as she hated him.
He was still her father. Her own flesh and blood. Her mother had loved him and he loved her back, in his own strange way. For that she owed him some respect. She would put him to rest, along with him the ghosts that haunted her for the past five years.
Then she would truly be free.
Then she would bid her final farewell to Kyoto.
And she'll never look back.
And never return.
Rika felt surer of herself. The car had slid to a stop in front of a large western style house. It hadn't change. The house still looked freshly painted as the day it was built. The driveway was as circular as ever. The garden was well kept. And her favorite sakura tree was still there; looking majestic as the day she was born.
There were several cars parked in one side of the driveway. It seemed that her father's so-called friends were still sucking up even in his afterlife.
She accepted the hired valet's offer to help her out of the car. At the front door, she adjusted her black dress to perfection. Ever since she ran away, she maintained a certain standard for herself. No more boyish actions, clothes or haircut. And she kept them. She was the epitome of femininity. Her clothes, though cheap, were all pretty. Her hair was glossy and curly down her back, almost reaching the curve of her spine. Her friend Sakura told her that she reminded her of her mother, Nadeshiko, an angel in her own right. And her actions...well, no one's going to accuse her of being a tomboy anymore.
The door opened and she gave a small acknowledging smile to Godo, the butler. She saw the delight in the old man's eyes. He had been the father she never had and it broke her heart to leave him here all those years ago.
"It's been a long while, Godo-san." Rika's voice was so soft from hidden emotion but the old man heard it nonetheless.
"Yes it has been, little one. Ah, but you're not so little anymore."
"No," she laughed as she gave him a brief hug. "It's good to see you again."
"I'm sure you're just saying that." There was sadness in his eyes as well as an understanding. He knew what she went through and that she'd rather not be here at all. "Come. They are waiting for you."
"Ah, so it wasn't Father they came to see but the prodigal child. I'm sure there's a wager going around if I'm going to show up or not. I wonder which lucky bastard's going to bring home the pot money."
"You've changed and yet you haven't," the old man just chuckled, not at all offended by her choice of words. He was used to her sharp tongue.
He led her to the largest room in the ground floor, gave her a second to compose herself then pushed the double doors open. All eyes were instantly on her. Numerous people were seated side by side on the cushioned floor. There was a space in the middle that served as a walkway. At the end of it was the incensed altar that held her father's picture and ashes.
But that wasn't what caught her attention.
It was the man in a well-cut black suit. The man who was, at first, kneeling before the altar. The man who stood as soon as the whispering started. The man who still caused her stomach to turn in revulsion. The man whose smile still caused her heart to leap in irritation.
"Welcome home, Rika."
'Home? I have no home. You stole it from me, remember?'
To be continued...
 No, I'm not asking for tons of reviews. I just want to know if the plot's interesting enough. If it is then tell me. If not then I shouldn't waste my time with it, don't you think?
 KYOTO is one of Japan's largest cities. It served as Japan's capital and the seat of the imperial court for more than 1,000 years, from its founding in 794 until 1868, when the emperor moved to Tokyo. The city is rich in historic and cultural sites, housing many of Japan's most renowned temples, shrines, palaces, and gardens. It is famous for the preservation of traditional Japanese crafts, performing arts, religious observances, and cuisine. (Encarta 2002)
 I will be following the traditional JAPANESE FUNERAL SERVICE although there could be some errors since I only found out about them in the Net plus I'm too lazy to write the whole she-bang. Here's something about it in case you're interested to know. I just copy-pasted it so whoever owns these words, please don't sue me.
Most Japanese funeral services are held in a Buddhist style. The following is a description of a Japanese funeral. Of course, there exist many variations.
On the funeral day the body is cremated. The guests take a first meal during that time in the crematorium. Afterwards, the relatives pick the bones out of the ash and pass them from person to person by chopsticks.
The actual funeral ceremony is then held by Buddhist monks according to Buddhist rituals. Many guests are present at this ceremony. Each of them will pay about 20,000 Yen to the relatives and receive a small gift in return. At last, another meal is held.
The urn is put on an altar at the family's house and kept there for 35 days. Incense sticks (osenko) are burned there around the clock (special 12 hour sticks for the night exist). Many visitors will come to the house, burn a stick, and talk to the family. After 35 days, the urn is finally buried on a Buddhist cemetery.
In the story, Rika was not present in the actual funeral ceremony due to reasons that would be explored later on since I'm still developing the plot. Instead, I'm going to say she arrived on the 35th day of the mourning period.
 THANK YOU for taking time on reading this fic. I enjoyed every minute of writing this new story on my favorite conventional CCS pairing. I only hope that people would like this enough because I'm looking forward to more headaches that writing fan fictions seems to bring on. I'm going to start stocking up some aspirins, just in case.