"Hmm, hmm..."
A sound as faint as a mosquito’s buzz ca out from the slightly parted red lips.
Kawashima Miki crossed her arms, trying hard to display a shy emotion, blushing as she stared at her high heels, speaking rather ambiguously, "As long as Master Fujiwara needs, I’ll do anything..."
"?"
Madam, sothing’s off with you!
Fujiwara Reya felt really strange.
The conversation now seed to have turned into him threatening her with sothing, like dancing on the edge of cri.
A young, beautiful, and wealthy lady, you wouldn’t want to be killed by your husband’s spirit, right?
How about this, let’s NTR him in front of his ghost, and I’ll protect you from being hard...
Click, click.
What a plot from a cheesy movie.
"Click~"
The door beside them opened, and a young woman peeked out, looking over here.
"Is Fujiwara Reya here?" she shouted.
"Yes, I am." Fujiwara Reya stood up.
The young woman scanned him with a formal smile, "Director Takeuchi is waiting for you inside."
"I’ll be right there." Fujiwara Reya nodded and then looked at Kawashima Miki, "I need to go, contact again during the Golden Week holiday."
"Okay, sure."
Kawashima Miki showed a slightly shy smile.
"Wait a mont, let give you a business card." Saying this, she opened the tallic clasp of her handbag, took out a glossy black card case slightly smaller than a cassette tape, and pinched out a card to hand to him.
Fujiwara Reya wanted to exchange a card with her.
But when his hand went into the school uniform pocket, he rembered he’d already given one earlier, so he just turned and left.
The card from the lady was simple, made from thin plastic, with a faint hint of rose fragrance. A sniff revealed it was almost the sa scent she wore, likely a woman who habitually uses rose perfu.
In the middle, there were bold black characters with [Kawashima Miki], and below were small fonts with an address and number.
Nothing else was on it.
Kawashima Miki?
Mrs. Hiraki...
Didn’t change her surna after marriage?
Fujiwara Reya thought with a slight sense of oddity as he put away the card and walked into the office.
By the window’s resting area, Kawashima Miki watched his back disappear through the door, then turned back, held a cup with both hands, took a small sip of lemon soda through a straw, and imdiately pushed the cup aside as if it tasted awful.
"Bastard!"
"I must squeeze every bit out of that asshole!"
Her venting curses floated out from those seductive red lips. Kawashima Miki rubbed her tired eyes, propped her chin on her hands, and looked out the window, gazing vacantly at the 243-ter-high Shinjuku Twin Towers with eyes lacking depth perception.
※※※※※
Entering the office, the young woman was making coffee at the tea bar near the door.
The space was small yet exquisite, with a Scandinavian-style office desk, a small sofa set, and wooden cabinets. The desk held a stainless steel desk lamp and a computer monitor that looked like art pieces, a heavy glass ashtray, and a wall hung with a large abstract painting of big primitive colors.
Fujiwara Reya walked deeper inside, greeted by a tall man rising from an office chair.
His robust body was wrapped in a wrinkle-free suit with a mixed blue-gray tone, lightweight and superior quality. He walked with large strides, slightly rushed, unintentionally creating a sense of importance for the visitor.
"You must be Master Fujiwara," Director Takeuchi approached with a steady smile, extending his hand straight to Fujiwara Reya, "Welco, welco."
"Hello." Fujiwara Reya shook hands with him.
"It’s a great day today, I’ve been working here for ten years, and it’s my first ti hosting a guest from Asakusa Shrine." Director Takeuchi said with a squinting smile, then looked Fujiwara Reya over as if inspecting contraband.
His gaze slowly scanned from top to bottom and back up again, not missing a milliter.
Honestly, Fujiwara Reya was afraid he might suddenly start touching him without consent or whip out a asuring tape.
"You have an aesthetic aura and an ethereal gaze," Director Takeuchi said, retracting his gaze, seemingly admiringly, "if it were in the Heian period, Master Fujiwara would surely be a world-famous Onmyoji."
"You’re exaggerating." Fujiwara Reya modestly shook his head.
"Not at all, my first impression of you was like a dashing and elegant figure akin to Abe no Seii," Director Takeuchi turned and sat back down at his seat, talking over the desk, "if you were born in that era, you would have surely received letters written with thoughtful and tender Waka from many noblewon."
"That’s not necessarily a good thing," Fujiwara Reya sat across from him, "with my abilities, I might end up being assassinated by those noblewon’s fathers, so it’s better to avoid such romantic disasters."
"Haha, you could marry in," Director Takeuchi slightly tilted his mouth, squinting, "I could introduce you to a few."
For a mont, Fujiwara Reya’s expression beca strange, but he quickly put on a smile, "Thanks for your offer, Director, but I’d like to discuss today’s purpose..."
"No rush, no rush." Director Takeuchi raised his hand to interrupt, then glanced at the door, "Is the coffee ready?"
"Here it is."
The young woman from earlier brought in two cups of coffee, handing one to each of them.
"Have sothing to drink first." Director Takeuchi gestured invitingly.
Fujiwara Reya thanked him and sipped the coffee.
The taste was rich, and the temperature just right. The cream-colored mug had a Lexus logo on it.
Director Takeuchi leisurely poured milk into his coffee, stirring slowly with a spoon, without adding sugar. The office was very quiet, except for the dry ticking of a clock in the corner.
After slowly finishing the coffee, he suddenly glanced at the clock as if rembering sothing.
It was 11:15, 45 minutes until off work, what a long wait...
Why did this kid bring his problem to ?
There’s no need for renovation; can’t you just keep the money for good food and let that rundown shrine be forgotten in the river of ti?
Thinking back and forth, he couldn’t co up with any ideas, growing sowhat impatient, he pulled out a red Marlboro pack from his pocket, and asked, "Do you mind if I smoke?"
"I don’t mind." Fujiwara Reya replied, "I see you’re soon off work, maybe you can listen to what I have to say first."
"Go ahead."
Director Takeuchi clamped the cigarette in his mouth and lit it with a small gold lighter.
"I plan to start renovating Asakusa Shrine after the Golden Week holiday," Fujiwara Reya sat up straight, his tone steady and calm, "the blueprints will be submitted to your office the first day after Golden Week, and I hope you can help with the approval."
"Renovation isn’t the issue..." Director Takeuchi took a long drag from the cigarette, squinting as he slowly exhaled.
"Do you smoke?" he changed the subject.
"I don’t," Fujiwara Reya shook his head, "I’ve never smoked a cigarette in my life, nor do my acquaintances."
"That’s good, once you start, it’s hard to quit..." Director Takeuchi paused the conversation, staring into the curling smoke as if recalling distant mories.
After a few more minutes, he flicked the ash off in the ashtray, then looked up at Fujiwara Reya.
"To be honest, the current direction of Shinto as a whole is conservative, and they don’t support further shrine expansions. There’s always been a voice from outside, accusing Shinto of engaging in religious cult practices aid at making money, implenting almost brutal brainwashing on the masses. To minimize public opinion’s impact, not a single shrine expansion has been approved in the past few years."
Bullshit... Fujiwara Reya cursed internally.
Shintoism has been desperately trying to expand its influence over the years, aiming to overshadow Buddhism and Taoism, and now you’re telling it’s afraid of public opinion and can’t expand?
Do you take for a child?
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