“That…that…creature has caused me enough trouble,” Amanda Wells muttered, slamming her hand down on the photo of Kunoichi on the desk in front of her. “I thought her situation had been resolved. Evidently no. I’ve planned this for years and will not have those plans derailed by some idiot girl with a hero complex. She will have to be dealt with.”

            “I’ve done all I was asked, Ms. Wells,” Dr. Ichikawa replied. “More, in fact, than I was asked. What I’ve done can get my medical license taken from me and land me in prison for the next five years. My part is done. I expect you’ll keep our deal.”

            “You’re absolutely right,” Amanda Wells rubbed her aching forehead with one hand. “Your daughter’s position in Sakura Dreams is already assured.

            “Then I’m done here, yes?” Ichikawa said, standing and straightening his jacket.

            “Yes,” Amanda mumbled. “What must be done next requires a blunter tool. I’ll need you to leave some of the tranquilizer in case there are complications going forward.”

            “I can’t do that,” Ichikawa replied. “Those are attached to my name and are controlled substances. Any sort of irregularities are reported to the government. I shouldn’t have used them in the first place…” He trailed off and glanced away for a moment. “This isn’t healthy, Amanda; your obsession with that girl. You’ve spent all of this time and energy and money trying to do what? Ruin her life? Why? She’s just a girl, a deeply wounded and scared girl at that.”

            “She took her from me,” Amanda snarled, slamming her hand onto the desk. “That little monster took her away from me and then rejected all I did for her. All the training, all the effort, all of it wasted on that ungrateful little brat. This time will be different, though. I’ll make sure of it.”

            “Listen to yourself, Amanda,” Ichikawa replied. “You’re blaming her for being born. Let this go. Let Midori go. She’s dead. I know you loved her, but she’s gone and her daughter is still here.”

            “Don’t you ever say her name again,” Amanda growled. “You don’t know what we had. What we would still have if that little brat hadn’t ruined everything.”

            “You need help, Amanda,” Ichikawa replied, shaking his head. “Let me help you.”

            “That’s rich coming from the man who illegally gave someone tranquilizers and signed off on declaring them a suicide risk,” Amanda chuckled, pointing a finger at Ichikawa. The doctor flinched. “I’d rather not have your help, especially if it ends with me wrongfully sent to an asylum on your orders. I will help Akari fulfill her real potential. I’ll help her become what Midori would have; the best of the best, not some backup dancer in a one hit wonder group. Once she is, Midori can rest and I can bask in my greatest achievement. That’s all the help I need.”

            “What if she doesn’t want that?” Ichikawa asked.

            “Of course she wants that. She was too willful last time; too independent. I’m taking care of that this time. With nowhere to turn she’ll buckle down and put in the work needed to make Midori and I proud,” Amanda looked at Ichikawa icily. “Your help with this matter is ended, doctor. I trust that your desire to stay out of prison and your daughter’s new position will be enough to ensure your continued silence. If you’ll excuse me, I have an annoyance to take care of.” Ichikawa gathered his briefcase and umbrella as Amanda pressed a number on her phone.

            “Yes,” she said into the phone as Ichikawa opened the door. “The fee is agreeable. Yes. That’s right, the red Mercedes. Oh, and be sure to make it look like an accident.” Ichikawa shivered as he closed the door behind him, reminding himself to have his own car checked as soon as possible.