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  <title>Akesato By Day</title>
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  <lastBuildDate>Mon, 18 Jun 2007 05:28:25 GMT</lastBuildDate>
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  <pubDate>Mon, 18 Jun 2007 05:28:25 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>A Very Strange Disappearance.</title>
  <link>http://akesatobyday.livejournal.com/2022.html</link>
  <description>Date: Time-skip&lt;br /&gt;Time: Tuesday Morning &lt;br /&gt;Place: Matsuda Estate, Kyoto&lt;br /&gt;Characters: Akesato, Misao&lt;br /&gt;Rating: PG-13&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name=&quot;cutid1&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to admit that Takashi Matsuda is the richest man I&apos;ve ever had as a client.  One of the main heirs to the Mitsui fortune, he can also now claim to be the first president of a nationwide private bank in Japan.  The man has more money than some countries, from what I understand.  But, he&apos;s also a very lonely gentleman, and somewhat socially awkward.  Raised by a banker and his somewhat reclusive wife, Matsuda-han knows a lot about banking, making money, and the value of things...but very little about navigating the austere and labyrinthine circles of Japanese society...  Which is to say that, other than bankers, he&apos;s not very good with people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that&apos;s where I come in.  Unlike some of my other clients, who actually enjoy &quot;playing&quot; in the hanamachi, Matsuda-han would really rather be home, scrawling in his ledgers.  He&apos;s a kind man, though...if a bit abrupt and sometimes awkward, and perhaps one of the most intelligent people I&apos;ve ever met.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I had very little problem accepting his invitation to spend a few weeks at his Kyoto estate this summer.  Some very important investors are to be meeting with Matsuda-han, and he needed a practiced hostess to make sure any after-hours gatherings went off without a hitch.  Matsuda-han has given me quite the budget to plan for outings and tours, dinners and entertainments, and given me full reign of choice over which geisha and courtesans should be chosen for each man.  (A task which suits me fine, due to having lived in Shimabara and resided in Kyoto until just a few years ago.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently, I&apos;m sitting in the family parlor, flipping through some Shimabara and Kyoto guides, scribbling out plans for the next week.  Although I have some time to relax, and just enjoy being &quot;home&quot; in Kyoto, there&apos;s also a lot of work to be done every single day.  The money that Matsuda-han is paying for just these few weeks will fund the Ishikiya for the entire summer, &lt;em&gt;and&lt;/em&gt; pay for Yasu-chan&apos;s lessons the rest of the year.  So, I am diligent in making sure every single detail goes off without a hitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The head housekeeper, Matsuhara Yoroi, is working nearby, putting together arrangements of fresh flowers for the reception hall and guest quarters.  Since the gentlemen are all staying at the Matsuda Estate as guests, the staff here has been kept busy with more than just myself and Matsuda-han.  I&apos;m thankful that I&apos;ve visited here before, during the last three summers...  The old woman was a bit wary of me, at first, but seems to accept my seasonal visits now.  She says that Matsuda-han seems less burdened by his responsibilities when I visit.  So, I suppose we&apos;re at an understanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I&apos;m surprised when Yoroi-han suddenly drops a large vase.  It doesn&apos;t shatter, but water and flowers go everywhere.  The generally unflappable old woman brings her hand to her face in an attempt to cover a loud sob.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Putting down my book, I scurry over to her side.  &quot;Yoroi-han?&quot;  I wrap one arm around her and try to tug her away from the mess.  One of the lesser maids steps in to see what the problem is, and I ask her to bring something to clean up the spilled water.  (Thankfully, these rooms have wooden floors, rather than tatami.)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old woman shakes in my arms, and I try to calm her by stroking her back.  &quot;Na, what could be the trouble?  Please tell me, Yoroi-han.  Don&apos;t spare me just because I&apos;m a guest.  You&apos;ve been so kind to me in the past.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Beg pardon, Akesato-sama.  It&apos;s just that I&apos;m at wits end.  I&apos;m not sure at all what to do.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I use the dry edge of my sleeve to dry Yoroi-han&apos;s tears, and take up tucking her hair back into place.  I wouldn&apos;t want any of her employees to see her like this.  &quot;Has something occurred?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Yes, well...  I&apos;m not even sure.  It&apos;s my daughter, Etsuko.  She&apos;s gone missing.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Continued.)</description>
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