Who Knows the Soul of the Sea? Shina

By Angelika Friedemann

This novel is a mixture of adventure, love and intrigue set against the backdrop of the mysterious world of the Far East. It takes us from tranquil France to the deceptive metropolis of Tokyo and describes a woman's struggle against nameless opponents, her own husband, and the past. She is pulled along by a maelstrom from which there is no escape in the end.
Shina does business with Japan and these deliveries are constantly being sabotaged. Akira, her husband, travels to Tokyo to investigate the causes. To no avail.
Shina finally wants the culprits to be found and flies to Tokyo. Two days later, she is asked to meet a stranger. She goes to the meeting place, where she learns of the connections and of her imminent death.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Angelika Friedemann
• Release date: Dec 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215167175

Angelika Friedemann

Die Autorin: Wenn die Menschen nur über das sprächen, was sie begreifen, dann würde es sehr still auf der Welt sein. Albert Einstein Ich versuche, die Aufmerksamkeit der Leser zu fesseln, sie zu unterhalten und zu erfreuen, möglicherweise zu erregen oder tief zu bewegen.

Book preview

Shina3 Englisch

Angelika Friedemann

Who knows the soul of the sea?

Shina

Imprint

Copyright: © 2023. All rights to the work belong to Kevin Friedemann, Herrengasse 20, Meinisberg, ch,

The work including all contents is protected by copyright. All rights reserved. Reprinting or reproduction (including excerpts) in any form (print, photocopy or other process) as well as storage, processing, duplication and distribution using electronic systems of any kind, in whole or in part, is prohibited without express written permission. All translation rights reserved.

Author: Angelika Friedemann [e-mail]

Picture-Source: piqs.de., Potographer: Pikasa

The sea in spring, the sound of waves all day.

The little fish, abandoning themselves to the waves, dancing and playing,

but who knows the soul of the sea, a hundred metres below?

Who knows its depth?

Chapter 幸せ

Shina groped beside her, but the bed was empty. She loll about before getting up, taking a quick shower and slipping into her clothes. In the kitchen, she turned on the coffee maker, set the breakfast table. Mariko and Marc were still asleep, so she strolled out. The lawn was still damp from the dew. The first rays of the morning sun made it glisten as if the dewdrops were diamonds. She walked to the small passageway and a little later had a view of the vast Mediterranean Sea. A cool, fresh breeze swept over her and, shivering minimally, she put her arms around her upper body. The Golfe du Lion still glowed a pale grey, surrounded by light wisps of mist. The water puffed up under the wind. She knew where to find Akira and stepped quietly to the spot hidden by bushes. In summer, white and red oleander blossomed here, next to countless magnolias. An old wooden bench stood where she liked to sit and gaze into the distance. It was her favourite spot in the large garden. Akira had removed shrubs from the sides, enlarged the space. Low pines and conifers, artfully arranged next to rayons on the moss, grew. On the other side of the bench was thick grass. The area he used for his exercises, his meditation.

She saw him stretching slightly upwards in an upright posture and held her breath for a moment. The light shimmered around his perfectly formed, half-naked torso. It was not the sight of his form that caused Shina to pause silently. It was the athletic, fluid, harmonious movements Akira performed. She had never observed a human being so eminently in tune with nature. His long, black hair fell close over his shoulder, making her want to run her fingers through it. His skin shimmered slightly reddish under the rays of the rising sun. Enchanted, she stood there in the turmoil of her emotions and with a yearning tug in her abdomen. Her blood began to boil. Her heart began to flutter eagerly in time. She liked to watch him. He seemed enraptured. Calmness emanated from his movements, which was transmitted to her. She was fascinated by the play of his muscles under his smooth, tight skin.

Slowly he turned his detached face towards her, clenching his inward palms and drawing his arms to his body with a powerful exhalation. He stopped and opened his eyes, looking at her, frowning briefly. Slowly she stepped closer. He put a hand on her shoulder. Good morning.

His naked torso spread warmth and for seconds she pressed against him, enjoying the warm skin, his masculine scent.

Come join me, Shina. His deep voice sounded soft.

It's called, my beautiful, one-time princess, she corrected him once more. She stood in front of him, took off her shoes, spread her legs slightly.

Take a deep breath and feel your power within. Relax your shoulders, breathe deeply in and out. Raise your arms and turn your palms outwards. I want you to concentrate, he laughed softly, grasping her forearms, pulling her up.

How am I supposed to do that with you stroking me?

He just shook his head, taking a step away from her. Stretch out your arms and guide them upwards without momentum. Press your feet firmly to the floor.

She completed the exercise with ease, already knew it, but she loved it when he spoke to her while he did it.

Non, keep the knees pushed through.

As always, he noticed any inaccuracy and corrected her unequivocally. In that respect he was the strict, very accurate teacher.

Leisurely she raised her arms, turning her palms outwards as she took a deep thoughtful breath in and out.

Et, very good and prop up the sky.

Toes digging lightly into the damp turf, arms raised straight, muscles taut, she stood there, counting to twenty. Slowly she lowered her arms, sliding forward, and with momentum she pulled them both to her body. Akira shook her head again. She never learned, plus it looked creepy. The bony arms were more like sticks, the ribcage just a skeleton covered in skin. Everywhere you could see only the bones.

You're not putting enough strength into it. That was one of the first exercises you learned.

It was perfect, as always. Yes, back in your garden. I couldn't concentrate properly because you were behind me and completely confused me.

I see.

She felt his warm breath on her cheek. Well, a little, she grinned, leaning against him.

The atmosphere between them was electric, she felt. A flood of sensations coursed through her body. She let her hands slide over his body, sighed softly, pressed herself even closer to him. He stepped away from her, wanting to talk to her.

Papá, I'm awake. She broke away from him, disappointed. She slipped on her sandals and Mariko came running in her pyjamas, straight into her father's arms. The three of them walked back. Akira went to take a shower, Mariko got dressed and she helped Marc, who was chattering away, sometimes protesting vigorously because he could do it alone.

After breakfast together, Akira took his daughter to school while he continued on to Marseille, where he had lectures at the Asian Institute this morning, after which he would do some more training in his gym.

Shina, on the other hand, made phone calls to make sure everything was running smoothly in her works, quickly watched the security camera tapes from Akira's office, noting the two phone numbers as she did so, realising they were Henry's and Aiko's. She breathed a sigh of relief, although she wondered what he had discussed with them. Why did they have new numbers anyway? It was never mentioned to her.

She gave Josephine instructions for the meal, then drove to Montpellier with her son, shopping.

She started doing little exercises with the children in the late afternoon. Mariko had been learning Jûdô for a year and Marc wanted to be able to do it, although he was still a little too young for it, but he practised diligently, which amused her.

In the training room there were two tatami on one side on which they trained. These mats were made of pressed rice straw and covered with linen. On one wall hung various swords. Old weapons, as Akira had once explained to her many years ago. There was a nodachi, a long sword of the earlier samurai, a shinobi katana whose blade was over a thousand years old. There was a wakizashi, the short sword, similar to the katana but with a shorter blade, a tachi, another old long sword. There was also a short tantô and a ninjatô, the straight short sword.

She heard Akira's voice and put her fingers to her lips. Once again she heard him call out, and he was already opening the door and looking at the three of them with a grin. Are you playing hide and seek? Yes, what does my big son look like today? The two dashed to the father. Papá, have a jûdôgi or whatever it's called, Marc babbled excitedly.

You look like a real jûdôka. Where did you get it?

Maman picked it up today, but for you we ...

You shouldn't squeal, Mariko grumbled at her brother, nudging him lightly.

He went to his wife, took her in his arms briefly, gave her a fleeting kiss. Shina, are we having casserole today? It smells so good in our house.

Et, with cherries, but you'll have to wait a bit.

Josephine's casseroles are a real delicacy.

You're crazy, she retorted angrily. I made that one, despite all my work.

Noticing the looks on the children's faces, she smiled fixedly but looked crossly at Akira, who just shook his head. How he hated her showing off and lying.

Papá, look what we can do.

He looked to his children and the bad mood instantly evaporated.

Shina sat down on the floor as she watched the children. With Mariko, the individual movements looked more powerful because she could keep her balance better. With Marc, on the other hand, the movements looked droll, but she suppressed a laugh when the toddler now let out another loud scream, just like he had once heard from the other fighters in his father's studio. Once again he shouted kiai loudly, looking expectantly at his father, who praised them both for how well they could do it. He too had to pull himself together not to laugh out loud, communicating with Shina with a glance.

It was only after a while that he caught sight of the longish package at his side and went towards it.

It's for you, Marc knew.

Akira picked it up, looked at Shina, who nodded slightly. He sat down on the floor, unwrapped it. Marc and Mariko watched. Is a katanana.

Katana, Shina improved on her son, rising. Akira was speechless as he held the sword in his hand. He noticed immediately from the tsuka that it was not a very old cutting weapon. A plagiarism. Shina slowly stepped closer.

It's a Masamune replica, he brought out quietly, after staring at it for seconds.

You don't know a thing about anything, she ruled him angrily. An original.

Sure, like the imitation Rolex watch. Characteristic of his work are chikei, the clear grey lines on the cutting edge, and kinsuji, those lightning bolt-like patterns on the blade. From the style of his works, one can conclude that they were made from the late Kamakura period to the Nanboku-cho. Not recognisable in that one, however. A poor copy, he recited.

Et, I know. Among the swords listed in the Kyôho Meibutsu Cho, a directory of excellent swords from the collections of Kyôho-era daimyôs, Masamune's weapons are the most frequently cited. The Kyôho Meibutsu Cho was written by order of Tokugawa Yoshimune of the Tokugawa Shôgunate in 1714. The first book is known as Nihon Sansaku and contains a list of works by the greatest swordsmiths and lists 41 blades by Goro Nyudo Masamune.

Akira stared at the katana, hadn't really been listening, Shina noted angrily. He should be complimenting her for giving him such a gift.

Where did you get it?

From America. A family had to sell it because of lack of money. Pierre checked the rights, not that the Japanese government could lay claim to it. It's all right.

Shina, money thrown out as it's worth 300 euros at most. It's mass-produced.

The fact that you're still allowed to work as a lecturer is all thanks to me. You don't know a thing about anything. That's why we're having salad and casserole today. I have to save money, but nothing is expensive enough for you, she laughed artificially and went into the kitchen.

A little later she called the three to dinner. She noticed how agitated Akira still was. Even the children were calmer than usual, as if they sensed that something special had happened.

As they ate, she told him how she had come by the sword. Maman happened to read an ad in Boston offering the katana and called me. Her husband hired an expert to check it out while Pierre did the legal from here. It took us almost three months to get a list from Japan where stolen swords were listed. It's not one of them. Maman bought it and it was precisely examined again in Paris. I locked the expertises and all the documents in the safe. Now, chérie, it is yours. For that, the Noél brings you nothing.

Akira was silent, not wanting another argument in front of the children.

It's a good investment. The Japanese want to pay even more for it because they wanted it for a museum, she smirked. You know I like to spoil you.

When is the Noél finally coming?, Marc wanted to know.

It'll be a few months yet. It's only September and he'll be here in December.

Everything always takes sooo long.

After dinner, the four of them sat in the practice room. Akira looked at the katana, noting the flaws, and recited as he did so.

Masamune Okazaki was one of Japan's most famous swordsmiths. The exact dates of his life are unknown. However, it is generally assumed today that he made most of his swords, essentially katana and tantô blades in the style of the Soshu tradition, between 1288 and 1328 in Sagami province. Characteristic of his work are chikei, clear grey lines on the cutting edge, and kinsuji, a lightning bolt-shaped pattern on the blade. From the style of his work, we can conclude that they were made from the late Kamakura period to the Nanboku-cho. Masamune swords bear a combination of the name of their maker and a special name for the particular sword. Example the Honjo Masamune, which served as a symbol for the Tokugawa Shôgunate and was passed down from ruler to ruler. His swords are often compared to the work of Muramasa, another 15th century Japanese swordsmith. In the legends surrounding the blades of the two smiths, Muramasa's weapons are described as bloodthirsty and evil, while Masamune's blades are said to have inner calm and serenity.

Papá, may I have this later?

He looked at his son. Et, it will take a little while though. You know the swords are all very, very sharp and you can hurt yourself with them. That's why they all stick. I don't want you to touch them unless maman or I are there. We'll hang them up together tomorrow, because you have to help me. After that, maman and I will show you how to fight with them in the old days, but we'll do that with the bokken as usual.

He put the katana to his side, rose. So, off to the bath and then to bed.

The two of them scampered off, chattering loudly. Akira held Shina by the arm, Thank you, he gave her a kiss on the forehead. I think if we don't want to drown, I'll go upstairs, he grinned.

I'll come with you. Let's go scrub kids.

Later, Shina searched through his books for Masamune's swords until she found the right one, which she showed him. For a long time after, they talked about it. This was a special kind of event for him today, Shina knew. Akira, on the other hand, only thought, how can one spend money on such trinkets? Cheap trinkets and she acted as if it was real.

Chapter 嫉妬

Shina stood at the window, looking out. Just then, like a red ball, the sun slowly pushed its way up over the sea. The milky white of the fog turned to red, orange. Even in the garden, patches of fog passed by, so that she could not even see the small stable for the two ponies. She heard him turn in bed, turned.

Shina, what are you doing?

The sun woke me up. It's glorious weather, if still overcast. She sat down on the edge of the bed. We have the weekend and time and I have a lot of desire for you. She leaned over him, pulling the duvet away with her other hand, letting her hand slide over his warm skin. We have plenty of time if our children are still asleep, she whispered in his ear, letting her tongue slide along his neck before nibbling on her ear.

He loved sex in the morning, she knew. It was so different because they rarely ever got to do it, as usually the children woke them up first. Akira was generally a late sleeper if he didn't have appointments in the morning. Mornings were more enjoyable for him, he could enjoy it longer. One was more rested, more relaxed and, he found, more receptive to all the emotions. He had told her that years ago.

Her hand slipped into his briefs and he pushed them slightly away from him. I don't feel like it right now because I still want to sleep.

You're about to feel like it because I want to be made love to now. Come on, merde, her voice sounded shriller as she tugged at his briefs.

Papá.

Merde, she cursed, quickly reaching for the duvet, by which time the door was already flying open violently.

Good morning, are dressed, Mariko beamed at her parents.

Merde, what do you want?, Shina nagged and her daughter took a few steps backwards, startled.

Papa, come on, you have to get up. Marc tugged at the blanket Akira was holding.

Go downstairs, I'll be right there.

Hurry up, they ran down the stairs.

Couldn't they just crash for another hour?

That's just the way it is when you have a family, he smiled in relief, swinging his legs out of bed.

Akira, this weekend I'm going to send them to their grandparents. That way we'll have two days off.

What do you want to do? he inquired less than enthusiastically.

Anything we enjoy, and long and lots of it, she grinned. Then you'll show me how much you love and spoil me.

He left the room. He would stop that. He would call Julian or Tatsuda later.

After Marc's nap, they entered the exercise room. First Akira trained with the children, then they sat to the side while Shina took a bokken and practiced with him. Akira told what they were doing as they did so. This is the o-shomen. A vertical slash aimed at the centre of the forehead. Akira demonstrated this with Shina, several times in a row. Then hidari-men, a side blow to the left temple, and migi-men, a side blow to the right temple.

Migi-dô, a downward thrust to the right side of the chest plate, gyaku-dô, a downward blow to the left side of the chest plate, he explained, deftly deflecting her blows as he counter-attacked afterwards. With little force only, as he did not want to hurt her accidentally in case she reacted wrongly. Though that was eminently rare.

Kote, a blow to the right wrist or forearm. Kidar-kote, a thrust on the left wrist or forearm, and tsuki, against the throat.

They then performed an exhibition fight, which even they enjoyed. When they finished, they bowed to each other.

Shina, you never get any better.

Thank you, I know that. I am much better than you at everything.

Papá, when do I get to do like this?

Akira took his son in his arms. We'll wait a bit on that. Maman didn't start until she grew up.

Takes sooo long.

You're learning jûdô and swimming. Let's all go for a swim. Maman and I have to take a short shower and you don't do anything stupid until we come. You can stay in the whirlpool until we come, but you have to undress first.

They got their bathing suits and went to shower together while they listened to the two of them talking next door.

Afterwards they frolicked in the pool. Marc tried to swim eagerly, jumping repeatedly from the edge into the water to paddle to his parents and sister.

After the children sat in the whirlpool, Akira and Shina swam for a while. Especially after training, it did good and created relaxation. He cuddled a few laps, then she held him tightly.

Will you take care of me? She stroked him lightly, wrapping her legs around his waist.

Shina, stop it, he broke free. I don't want to, he gave her a strong push that she splashed backwards into the water, causing Mariko and Marc to laugh out loud. Shina jumped out of the pool a little later, first taking Mariko, Marc and throwing them into the pool with Akira, sitting on the edge and laughing.

They frolicked for some time. She, on the other hand, got dressed, as she still had to do some work, then prepare dinner, as she sounded loudly.

When the doorbell rang, she called for Akira, so she didn't notice his grin.

Tatsuda, this is a surprise, she heard Akira say.

You'd have to help me since a buddy is moving and the two of us can't get a lot done on our own.

Will do, just let Shina know.

She came running up. I heard. Go, at least do some work and not just sit around, she expressed irritably. Since I still have to work, I wouldn't have had time for you anyway.

Waiting for him for hours, she finally lay down and fell asleep, although she wanted to give him a good talking to.

Chapter 嫉妬

Akira had the day off and sat with her in the office, reading the concept she had prepared in Japanese. He was now inserting changes, correcting small grammatical errors.

Doctor Pierre Villion would fly to Tokyo in a few days with six gentlemen to discuss a new contract. For two years, business with SanYuri-Electronics had been excellent, so it was hoped that this business relationship would continue. However, that meant months of negotiations.

This statement that your sensors cause the lifts to stop in the event of a jishin, you need to flesh it out. You can otherwise interpret it to mean that they will react at some point. That's where you need to insert the time and that they stop right before the next door so everyone can get off.

Where else are they going to stop? She leaned back in the chair. It's annoying and difficult to do business with you. Everything has to be explained precisely in writing, which is what you usually discuss. It's in the brochures. Non, I have to make extra dossiers and describe each component individually, explain each chip.

That's part of the non-verbal communication in Japan. It's part of kôsho, as you know. The Japanese don't like your way of negotiating. For them, it's important to find a solution that satisfies both sides. They want to know exactly, because otherwise they feel they are being ripped off. Only when they know everything concisely can they make a decision. In addition, the Japanese are addicted to information. They want to know every little detail and have it explained to them from different sides. This is how they can find out if there are no contradictions. They test honesty and whether there is a basis of trust. If you don't give them the requested material, you can save yourself everything else. They want to know as much as possible in advance, about every tiny bit. Give it to them, and if you show that you can manage it in their language, you have almost won. He laid the pages on the small table, reached for the coffee mug and took a sip.

The next thing for them is sympathy, the prior establishment of a relationship of trust. They buy from their gut, not with their head like you do. Do you understand? They pay a thousand francs more for your sensors if they like you, even though the one from company Y is better and cheaper than example. So they want to know a lot about their private life, they want to assess what kind of person the other is and thus build trust, for both sides of course. That's why they go out in the evening with their future partners. Alcohol loosens the tongue and there you often learn more about people than in a hundred hours at the negotiating table. They talk about all sorts of things at the conventions, least of all about your sensors, that's what they have the documents for. This is the process that takes the most time, that requires perseverance and patience. In the process, it shows the Japanese what kind of people they are dealing with - ningen kankei. Your detailed technical explanations are eagerly studied in advance and believe me, very, very thoroughly. Decisions are made in advance in the group, and only when everyone agrees there does the negotiation process continue. In the case of the bosses, a decision has already been made. Now it depends on whether everything else fits.

Then I could save myself the work.

Forget it. That would be eminently rude, as you know. Let's get on with it. I'll write you a note about it in the margin.

You'll do it properly, after all I gave you a generous gift the other day and I can't always do everything myself, after all. You may work once a week. I'll fly there this time, though not until the end of the negotiations, if they don't generally fall through.

Akira lowered the papers again, glanced at them. Then they wouldn't have asked you to come for more contracts in the first place. There is interest. Pierre already knows them and so do some of the others. So it shouldn't be such a big problem. Only, you don't want to stay there for weeks, do you?

No, not until the end. Pierre will come here in between. I'd like to conclude the contracts myself, since I'm perfect at it.

Perhaps you should have a successor trained by him. Our children are still at the age where they need their mother and shouldn't be continuously looked after by Josephine.

You are still here, chérie. She stood up, sat on his lap.

Sure, but I'm usually busy all day, and when I open the second studio, even busier. Further, I can't replace their mother.

I know you're completely lost without me. Some of the negotiations will probably be conducted by Doctor Roussel, but I'm the head of the company and have to take care of everything on my own, at most giving people instructions and advice.

I don't like the man. He is humourless without the special. He lacks the brilliance, quick-wittedness and charm of Pierre. He's a dry bureaucrat. Pierre has more of your father and that comes across to people, plus he has a razor-sharp mind, the talent to convince people of what he wants in a calm way. He is adaptable without being ingratiating. At the same time, through skill, he steers something in the direction he wants it to go.

You mean I should look for someone else?

Et, more like your father was, only twenty years younger. Let Roussel operate behind the scenes.

I'll have to check with Pierre. I've been thinking of something else.

What? I don't see anything good coming. Are you going to set up a branch in Japan?

Puzzled, she looked at him. How do you know that?

I don't know. I just had an intuition. How do you envision it?

A sort of settlement, manned by a few people. Plus a small warehouse. That way they have a contact person on the spot. I was thinking of an engineer, a businessman and a Japanese man, or something like that. I haven't planned it in detail yet, because I want to wait for the negotiations with SanYuri-Electronics. Perhaps other Asian countries could be serviced from there. Especially there, perseverance, time and patience are important, and if someone were there, things could possibly be handled more easily.

But they should learn Japanese. Only if they can do that will they understand a lot of the mentality of the Japanese and how to deal with each other, that you are not allowed to say what you think.

You mean reading between the lines? she smirked, nuzzling his neck.

That too. You know every Japanese person is of the opinion that you can hear out what they don't say without the need for further explicit explanations. Example: You say the delivery will be on the fifteenth. Immediately people interpret this: Is that her favourite number? Why that day, can't she deliver earlier? Does she have something against the fourteenth or sixteenth? But maybe her lucky number is six and so on.

You are a strange lot.

I'm not pure Japanese and I've been French for years.

Then you'll have to teach my employees Japanese. I'll set that up right after the negotiations. After all, that's something you're reasonably good at.

Non, certainly not. Besides, I have no time for it.

Oh - non? What bed-bunny would cry then? It's always the same, I want a little something from you, you refuse. Everything is stuck on me, she whined, smiling artificially when she caught his evil eye. Japanese are too different from us Europeans and everything is so difficult.

Oh, come on, it's not that bad and you know your way around. Furthermore, some of the gentlemen were there years ago during the first talks and the contract agreement and it worked out. You have to keep a few things in mind and it goes smoothly.

What?

You have to avoid anything that will disturb their inner peace, their wa. As you know ...

Shina laughed, I know this from my husband. Just don't do anything that interferes with his harmony.

He grinned. "That's just the way it is with us. These are things that are drilled into every Japanese from an early age. But go on. You should never come straight to a point, but paraphrase it. Ask questions in such a way that you can't answer with a yes or a no, because nobody does that anyway. The two words don't exist in Japanese. You should never embarrass an interlocutor, push them too hard, otherwise they will lose face. Respect their particularities. If they are silent, introspective, let them be silent, don't disturb them. Often they keep their eyes closed, but follow the conversation eminently. Usually someone else does the talking or you change the subject. Each man has a certain area of responsibility, and if one of them is not called upon at the moment, he just dozes off. If they're talking about the weather, join in. Just don't interrupt them when they're in the middle of something. Often just listen and watch them. Their gestures sometimes say more than words. When you look at one, smile a little, otherwise they feel threatened. They don't like long eye contact. Convince them with information. Your staff must be prepared to repeat this several times, calmly, with a slight smile, without appearing annoyed. The people who were there once know all this; you have to brief the new ones accordingly.

You should also have a multi-layered, competent and experienced team next to you. That gives you strategic advantages. Sellers in particular have a harder time than buyers, so you are obliged to be more responsive to them. On the other hand, they depend on your sensors, boards. They know that and will therefore be more responsive to you. The Japanese are wired in such a way that they will never take you to the cleaners. That is not their sense of honour. Even today, bushidô is deeply rooted in everyone. It sounds worse than it really is. Observe common Japanese courtesies and you've won. If anyone can handle the Japanese, it's you."

You're quite a specimen, she grinned, putting her arms around his neck.

I know. He gave her a kiss on the cheek. So, you go to your desk and I'll get back to my reading or your Japan deal will fall through.

You're right. Work I will. Busy, she turned pages in a folder and Akira grinned, watching her furtively. Now she didn't know what to do. A while later she stared out the window and he pretended not to notice her boredom.

Only when Mariko came home from school did they interrupt their work. In the afternoon, they drove to Olivier's, as Marc had been visiting there for two days. Mariko ran to the grandparents and excitedly reported that she got an A in sports today. Olivier and Fabienne praised her accordingly, while Akira handed his stepmother a large bouquet of flowers.

Come in, coffee and cake are waiting.

Where's Marc? Akira looked around but his son was nowhere to be seen. Olivier grinned and gestured to the kitchen. Sitting on the floor was his son. His face completely smeared with batter, which he was licking from a bowl.

What do you look like, Akira laughed when he saw it.

Tastes good. Should be a chocolate cake.

I see, and you ate it before?

Well, not like that, Fabienne interjected. Something I saved. Let's sit down.

Akira went into the bathroom with Marc, washing up.

The topic of conversation was the contract renewal with SanYuri-Electronics. Olivier and Fabienne had acted as advisors when the contract was first signed, as both had lived in Japan for many years and were therefore very familiar with the customs and peculiarities. Moreover, they both spoke perfect Japanese.

Shina said that if everything went well, she would eventually set up a small branch there.

But that only works if the staff employed there have a very good command of the language. Otherwise you can forget it. It's through the language that you get to know the Japanese in particular.

Let's wait and see how it turns out. Maybe Akira will have to give them language lessons. He always has plenty of time. At the moment, though, he still refused, even though he just got such an expensive gift from me. Probably a bed bunny would come up short.

Will turn out well, or they would have refused.

Told her, but she doesn't believe me. She wants to fly there herself this time.

I have to, since it's my company and I have sole responsibility for my group.

A good decision, although it will upset the men a bit. The Japanese are not used to women in that position. It will irritate them a little. Villion should prepare them for that. Akira, why aren't you working any more?

What makes you think that?

Because Shina just said you have so much time on your hands.

She meant my evenings when the kids are asleep or Sundays, Saturday afternoons maybe, if I'm not doing office work. Apparently our children are supposed to be looked after by Josephine then too.

Now don't exaggerate, chérie. You'll be home at five and have the day off after that, while I have to work until nine, ten.

Sure, I come home, play with our children, put them to bed and then I work through your papers. Very much free time.

You have to switch off, Fabienne deflected, and so they turned to general topics.

Have I told you what I bought my husband? A wonderful sword. It cost a fortune. You must come and see it. He could never have afforded such a thing, but he has me.

Take it back and keep it, Akira muttered angrily. I'm sick of hearing that crap. Why haven't you told all the reporters yet, big businesswoman?

After dinner they drove back. Marc was already falling asleep in the car and Akira carried him up, carefully undressed him and put him to bed.

He went to the training room, retrieved the sword and tossed it to her on the couch, then entered his office, locking it behind him.

Shina pounded on the door, but he didn't open it. Stupid guy, she muttered and went upstairs.

Chapter 嫉妬

As soon as cool layers of air penetrated from the Alps across the Rhône valley to the Golfe du Lion, there was a north wind. The mistral, cold, dry downdraft wind that blew fiercely from the mountains over the French coast, especially today.

Shina sat in front of the flickering fireplace with the two children. The wood crackled, crackled, the flames blazed brightly. Three lamps that looked like large stones illuminated the room. Today was one of those dull, rainy days when you had the feeling it would never really get light. The grey cloud cover hung low, as if it wanted to brush the trees in the garden. Mariko lay prone in front of it while Marc snuggled up to his mother. They listened to her tell the story, as Shina inculcated it in them, as they were supposed to be sweet for once.

A long, long time ago, in a faraway land, there lived a rabbit, a fox and a monkey. During the day they went into the mountains, hunted and played there, and in the evening they tramped back into the forest to spend the night. They went on like this for many years. They believed they had sinned in their previous lives and were therefore reborn as animals in this life. One day, the hare, the fox and the monkey met and promised from now on to commit no more wrongdoing and to love each other like brothers, thus making up for the sins of their previous lives. The Lord of Heaven, Taishakuten, looked down on the three animals and thought to himself, How could I believe them? Today the world is full of people who hurt, rob and hate each other, even though they are all brothers and sisters. They do not even realise that their actions are wrong. How could animals repent and want to make up for their sins? He made a plan and turned himself into a frail old man and appeared in the land where the hare, the fox and the monkey lived. He lay down on a path and pretended to be sick. Soon the hare, the fox and the monkey passed by on that path where Taishakuten lay and the old man said in a frail voice: Help me, I am an old wanderer and too exhausted to continue my journey. I have no one to look after me, I lack bread and water. The hare, the fox and the monkey were too happy to help him, it was an opportunity to repent. So the monkey set off into the forest, he picked berries and nuts from the bushes and trees to bring to the old man. The fox went to the cemetery and collected the offerings that the people had laid there for their ancestors. So he brought the old man fruit, rice cakes, fish and water. The hare looked everywhere but could not find anything to offer the old man as refreshment. So he came back ashamed and said, I looked everywhere, but wherever I went I could not get near anything edible, because hunters were lying in wait for me everywhere. The monkey and the fox mocked the hare and sat proudly in front of the old, weak man. I will continue to search diligently. In the meantime, gather wood to make a fire and wait for me, said the hare after a while. Then the monkey and the fox became angry: What have you brought him? Nothing. You ask us to make a fire so that you can warm yourself? Aren't you ashamed? It began to dawn and the monkey and the fox did as the hare had told them. After a while, the hare returned to the camp, but again he had nothing with him. So he stood before the old man and said: 'My lord, I do not have the skills that the monkey and the fox have, but I can offer you my body as food. After these words, he immediately jumped into the blazing fire. The wanderer was moved by this great sacrifice and wept. Now the old man changed into his true form and spoke: Everyone deserves fame and recognition for his deeds. This hare has given a great proof of his love. Restoring the body of the hare, he sent the hare to the moon to dwell there in the palace for all eternity, so that people may remember the hare and his great sacrifice whenever they look up at the moon."

Maman, did he go dead? Two-year-old Marc looked at his mother with his big black eyes.

Non. He was saved and ...

Papá is coming. Mariko, the six-year-old jumped up and dashed to the door, which opened a little later. Akira stepped in and took both his children in his arms one by one before going into the kitchen.

Papá, today maman cook so Japanese, so ... so saa... saa... Anyway, so with fish.

Mariko, it's sashimi with rice and miso soup.

Maman has packed, she remembered to report.

Et, we went shopping today.

What did you buy?

Fish and trousers for my children, she grinned. Now wash all hands. We can eat. Marc, you too. The papá will take you.

As they ate, the children told their father what they had done during the day, while Shina listened, smiling now and then.

Akira played with them a bit afterwards while she cleaned up and finished packing her travel bag upstairs. She flew to Tokyo the next day for a fortnight of contract negotiations, which had gone eminently well over the last few months.

The children were asleep and she ran the bath water, slipping into the hot oil bath a little later. With her eyes closed, she enjoyed the aroma of the bath additive. A touch of sandalwood, a touch of jasmine, a touch of ylang-ylang and a touch of sunshine, as she jokingly called it.

Are you asleep, Shina?

She opened her eyelids, just then he joined her in the tub, sitting down opposite her. Nervous yet?

Non, not yet. Just a long, dull flight tomorrow. I'm off the day after tomorrow, if nothing comes up. I'll let you look after our rascals for a fortnight, although Josephine will be helping you diligently.

They can come running in the morning and we can romp around without anyone complaining. Have you packed warm clothes? I think your room must have a good working heater, though.

Why don't most people have that?

The only thing that could be called central heating in Japan is a small heater placed in the middle of the room. This stove is powered at will by oil, gas or if you can afford it, electricity. Such a thing is rarely enough for the whole flat. It is expensive, and also quite dangerous, at least the oil and gas stoves. That's why Japanese homes often burn down, for example because stoves are left unattended, too close to the traditional paper doors. In addition, most stoves produce either a noisy fan or unpleasant-smelling exhaust fumes. So most stoves are not suitable for running for several hours at a time, especially through the night, let alone in continuous use throughout the winter. To prevent the proverbial freezing of one's butt, there are heated toilet seats that meet the sensitive need for warmth on the toilet. To snuggle up in a cosy warm bed on the coldest nights, there are electric blankets. Popular are kotatsu. These are heating lamps under the table. On cold days, you put your legs under the blanket and let them grill.

I'll never fly to Japan in the dead of winter, she laughed, but I think it's different in a hotel.

It is.

Now you have to say how much you'll miss me, she began stroking him between the legs.

Akira rose to his feet. Still enjoy the warm water, he left the bathroom, ignoring her call.

In the bedroom he put down two glasses of orange juice. He sat down on the bed and looked at her body, which was naked. She was all skin and bones, even her bosom had almost disappeared. The scars below her left bosom were barely visible. After Marc was born, she had started starving herself because her figure would have suffered so. It was a hideous sight.

Her hand slid slowly up his thigh, over his hip, to the hard belly. He took the glass, drank, but he knew he couldn't escape it without it escalating again. He pulled off the dressing gown, pulled her tighter against him, turned on his back, pulled her with him.

Every millimetre of her skin seemed to be on fire. She looked at him, caught sight of the black glint in his eyes. It seemed to glow.

Like a cat, she curled up on the bed, wanting to feel his fingers as close as possible. She feasted on every contraction, much into a sea of a thousand glowing coals that seemed to burn her.

Akira ... yes ... oh yes ... she gasped, digging her fingers into the sheet. His fingers continued to massage her, the inner walls of her vagina, performing a tingling, powerful act of penetration, sending her into a frenzy. She was on the verge of floating towards a powerful orgasm. Hot blood rushed through her veins,

She rubbed against him, wanting to be filled by him. He pulled her closer, twisting with her, and his member slid deep inside her. Shina pressed deeper into the mattress. This man was driving her crazy. His cold hands on her skin, his cool breath on her neck. He kissed her fleetingly on the cheek, let go of her body and went into the bathroom where he showered, partly so that his arousal would disappear.

How was I? she welcomed him.

The same as always. You should learn that women move during sex too.

You want to tease me. I'm the best, most exciting, most beautiful lover you've ever had.

If you say so, he drank some juice.

Maybe someone else can comfort you when I'm gone, but not in my bed, she flirted.

You'll go crazy just looking at another woman. There won't be another lady unless we finally divorce.

Shina propped herself up, eyed him. Never. Till death do us part, you are mine alone. I'll castrate you otherwise and watch you croak, You may tell me now how much you love me, that I am the most beautiful woman, that you adore me and whatever else you like about me. You are sweet, but still I will get us something to drink.

His scowl only tempted her to smile. She had him in the palm of her hand for all time and she enjoyed reminding him of that regularly. I have something. Thank you.

She pulled on her dressing gown and went downstairs, returning a little later with a bottle of mineral water, poured some and drank hastily.

I hope I'm not making any mistakes.

Shina, you certainly don't. You are sooo perfect. You know all about the Japanese.

Only with one and he's only halfway there, she smirked, looking at the almost naked man at length. You look like a beau.

The broad shoulders, the chest, almost hairless. His stomach flat and lean where she could make out the outline of each muscle. The waist and hips narrow. His groin, darkly hairy, a bit of head could be seen of his member, resting waiting between his thighs. This, however, she did not see, but knew. Very muscular legs that showed how athletic and well-trained they were. Her gaze wandered up to the equally muscular arms, the handsome but very masculine face, which looked relaxed and satisfied. His black hair, which reached to his shoulders, was now slightly tousled, a straight nose, his eyes, shiny black, the only feature that marked him as Asian, the well-curved mouth. He grinned at her with amusement and his even white teeth flashed between his lips. Finished looking, Madame de Sanciere?

You do too, Monsieur D'Leciere. She snuggled against him, letting her long fingernails, today painted a dark purple, glide over his chest, his belly. Oh Non, not that crap again, he thought to himself.

I have to make sure now that you don't cheat on me so often and neglect our children in the process.

You're crazy. The best known principles are In and Yô, the opposite but mutually influencing poles, such as the feminine and the masculine, shadow and light, winter and summer, the soft, passive Shina and, as the opposite pole, me. The one conditions the other.

Oh, I'm passive? I didn't know that.

Unfortunately. You are allowed to be active after your journey.

I must be very active for many days.

Momentarily there was the upset twinkle in his black eyes as she imagined.

Now he looked at her. You know, part of you is annoying with your talk. What a great woman you are, half of France knows by now. Buy yourself some journalists and tell them that. They'll publish anything you tell them for money.

She let go of him and sat up. I was talking about my job. You're confusing people, it broke out of her in a cold voice. I have never cheated on you.

Non? How many hacks have you satisfied? Is twenty enough? I spoke of you as a businesswoman, isn't that what you want to be? An oh-so-successful woman, yet everything is done by Pierre and the clerks, he trailed off.

She looked at him in horror. How did you ...? I didn't mean it like that. Just because you're a stupid loser, that's why you take every whore, I'm not like that.

Please, Shina, let's not argue today. Besides, your language is vulgar and this from such a super woman?

You're inferring from yourself to others, that's your problem.

Whatever you say.

Shina snuggled up to him. You ever touch another woman, I'll castrate you. You are mine, only mine, she whispered, but not quietly enough for him not to hear. He stifled a remark, got up and disappeared into the bathroom, locking up.

He looked in the mirror for a while. This was unbearable. If this went on for a while, he would go crazy. Akira, think of your children, he told himself. Yes, for them he had to put up with this woman, this circus for years to come.

Chapter 嫉妬

Akira had driven her to Frontignan airport early that morning, where the private plane that bore her name was waiting for her. It was hard for her to say goodbye.

You'll be back in a fortnight at the latest. He gave her another kiss on the cheek, secretly breathing a sigh of relief that he had his peace for at least a few days.

She disengaged, strode past the stewardess and waved once more. As soon as she was seated, the plane taxied off. As always, the service was impeccable. There was coffee, pastries, a glass of champagne. Her late father had wanted it that way. His princesse had to be pampered. As the plane took off, her thoughts drifted to Guy de Sanciere, as they did every time she sat on the plane. He had bought this plane only six months before his death, because of her. So she could join him in Paris, in a quick and comfortable way. She saw him before her, the tall, handsome, elegant man. A man she could never please, but who had loved her in his cold-hearted way, but especially liked to spoil her.

Shina, you are the only one who loved Guy in his entire life, she had been told then after his death. "Your father said to us, 'There are millions of