Family Matters
(A Quantum Destines Side Story)


Any and all C+C is appreciated. You can contact me at
sommer@3rdm.net

Quantum Destinies, the fic this a side story to, is located at:
http://home.earthlink.net/~sthesken/fanfics/qd.html

All of my fics are stored at the following:

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Or R+C books at:
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[Standard disclaimer] As always, I own none of the licensed characters. And
thanks to Steve Thesken for all the help and permission to use his universe,
as well as looking this over.

Forward: These events take place after Quantum Destinies 23 and deal with
Mikado of all people.

Xxxxxxx

Mikado Sanzenin released an irritated sigh as one of his family's numerous
servants held the front door open to allow him into his home. The day at
Whitehall had been tiresome, largely because of the ill luck that had
plagued Mikado of late. It forced him to maintain a conscious effort to know
of any quantities of cold water about. He had never realized how many people
walked around with bottles of water to drink, pitchers to water plants, or
any one of another hundred situations which required the transportation of
cold liquid. Today some idiot underclassman had actually brought a water
pistol to soak female students at Whitehall's sister facility, Blackhall, as
some sort of prank. Mikado had straightened him out quick enough with a hard
right and the assurance were he ever to try such a thing again, he would
require extensive care at one of Whitehall's top notch hospital beds. Most
of the girls thought the gesture was on their behalf, and felt flattered
someone as prominent as Mikado would defend their honor. He was content to
allow them to believe it. It would be groundwork for whichever one he chose
to be his next conquest.

Despite turning the situation to his advantage, annoyance still clung to
him. Rather than heading to his rooms, he made his way to the kitchen. He
was hungry and intended to have one of the cooks inventory what prepared
foods were available. One thing his family was insistent upon was being
catered to their every whim instantly. More than a handful of the staff had
been released for incompetence, even if it was over something trivial, such
as bath water being too hot. It didn't matter to Mikado. Servants were born
to serve people like him, and the world was full of the commoners. It did
them well to wait on their betters, openly acknowledging their proper place
in life.

He was almost at the kitchen when a familiar voice said, "Miki, there you
are."

Mikado repressed a tired sigh and turned to the speaker: his mother. Kumiko
Sanzenin was typical of the women of Sanzenin blood; a surpassing beauty
full of poise and grace that would turn any man's head, despite producing
three children. That was the way it should be. It allowed her to fulfill her
duty to the clan. As had been taught to Mikado from the day he was able to
speak, Sanzenin women were good for two things: producing  more Sanzenins,
and either marrying members of prominent families, thereby gaining influence
over them, or bringing in new blood to help produce a better and stronger
Sanzenins.

Mikado's father was the latter. Shinichi Kurata had been from a family that
had only the most tenuous ties to a low ranking noble bloodline. However,
Shinichi's mind was like a razor, and his head for business was unsurpassed.
After being hired by the Sanzenin zaibatsu, he had risen as high as possible
for one not being an actual Sanzenin. He had been so effective and made
himself so invaluable, the clan had little choice than to marry him into the
family and bind him to them totally. There was also the idea that such a
pairing would produce a Sanzenin with Shinichi's head for business. Mikado
liked to think he not just lived up to, but surpassed the family's
expectations in that regard. Their marriage might have been something of a
business-like proposition, but it mattered little. Kumiko had borne three
children, and Shinichi was free to have any mistresses he felt inclined to
possess.

So far, thankfully, Mikado was the only boy, both his sisters being younger
than him. He had no desire to deal with a sibling nipping at his heels and
trying to overtake his role as the future head of his branch of the family.
Sisters were infinitely more tolerable.

While the older of the pair, fourteen year old Hiroki, was growing into a
beauty like her mother, and would be prime material for marrying into a
prominent family, nine year old Minato was another matter. The Sanzenin good
looks had passed her by, opting instead to give her the plain features of
her father and a chin that was too big for her face. Worse, she refused to
learn proper behavior for a woman of the nobility. She acted more like a
boy, constantly getting into fights with her peers and showing up at the
dinner table with bruises and scratches as often as not. The girl had no
sense of propriety either, treating Mikado rudely on a number of occasions
when he gave her advice on walking the path of a true noblewoman. She loudly
proclaimed she would never consent to being some 'bubble-headed babymaker'
and would be treated for the woman she was, even if it meant joining the
military or Security Directorate. The hopes that the rebellion was a phase
she would grow out of were quickly growing dim as she became worse with each
passing month. In truth, she reminded Mikado of a younger version of that
thuggish Akane girl Tatewaki seemed to have his sights set on.

Now there was a thought. Perhaps they could unload Minato on Tatewaki once
she was of marrying age, if worse came to worse. Also, it would help
increase the prominence of the Sanzenin name. They were of the 'New
Nobility', a name derisively given to those whose success was economical,
rather than having a true noble bloodline. The Sanzenins had only risen to
prominence in the last four generations --due to their profitable reaping of
resources along the Empire's outer regions-- and had yet to merge a
distinguished noble family to their own. That was already being worked on to
some degree, and the addition of the Kunous, who possessed a storied samurai
background, would only speed the matter of reputation forward. Doing it
twice over would further cement the issue.

Tearing his thoughts away from future plans, Mikado returned his attention
to his mother. She was looking at him in concern. Mikado should have found
it irritating. Sometimes he thought she still looked upon him as a child,
and certainly he never allowed anyone, not even his lovers, to bastardize
his name to something as brusque as 'Miki'. But for some reason, he couldn't
quite bring himself to tell her to stop. He was uncertain why, but when she
addressed him in such a familiar manner, it didn't bother him the way it
would if someone else said it.

"What is it?" he asked in a tired voice

Kumiko's concern was palpable. "I just wanted to know if you would like to
talk to me about something."

"About what?" There was nothing to talk about, and really, what could she
possibly have to say that would matter? Mother or not, she was just a woman.

Kumiko persisted. "You've seemed distracted lately, and I can tell it's not
over women, like it usually is. I thought something else might be bothering
you, and you might want to talk it over with me."

"I have no idea what you mean." And what did that remark about it not being
over women mean? He never spoke with her about any of his conquests. He
couldn't. She was his mother. How could she possibly know?

"Are you certain?" she prodded.

"I do not need you to hold my hand anymore. I am sixteen, and not a child,"
Mikado snapped.

Ignoring the tone, Kumiko smiled warmly upon him. "No matter how old you
become, you'll always be my child."

Whatever else she was about say was cut off by the appearance of Mikado's
father. Shinichi addressed Kumiko in an authoritative tone. "I have an
important matter to discuss with my son."

A fleeting look of sadness crossed her features. Accepting the dismissal,
she bowed demurely and walked off without another word.

Mikado nodded in approval of his mother's reaction, which was that of any
true noblewoman. That was another reason he favored Kodachi. She knew her
properly submissive role as well. Such characteristics confirmed the
knowledge that she would make an excellent wife and mother of his children,
unlike that bitch, Asuka Saginomiya. All she was useful for was a bedwarmer,
though she did fulfill the role quite well.

Shinichi beamed at his son. That was unusual. Mikado's father never beamed
at anything.

He said, "I have wonderful news. Your uncle has invited you to attend the
meeting with the heads of the zaibatsu."

The declaration caught Mikado off guard. It took a moment for emotions to
pass by the shock and kick in. First was disbelief, followed by
satisfaction. Uncle Kentaro was the head of the clan and zaibatsu. He ruled
uncontested and with an iron grip. When he spoke, others obeyed. That he was
allowing Mikado to sit in on the board meetings meant he felt he was both
old enough and competent enough to be acknowledged as a worthy addition to
the family. It was a joyous day indeed, and almost made him forget the
misery his piglet curse had inflicted upon him.

"I shall prepare for the meeting," Mikado promised, and headed toward his
bedroom to do so. Eating could wait. There were more important matters to
attend to.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was four hours later that Mikado found himself being driven in his
family's limousine and passing the opening gate to his Uncle's estate. While
all those of the Sanzenin blood held lands, none were as ostentatious as
Kentaro Manor, nor would any be allowed to rival it so long as Kentaro drew
breath. It might have represented new wealth now, but in another couple of
generations, it would be spoken of as venerably as that of any family in the
Empire, even the Kiryuus'. Yes, it would just take time is all.

The car had barely made it a quarter of the way up the lane leading to the
main house when a sports car roared up from behind, tearing up the driveway
and heading directly toward the limousine. Mikado was thrown hard against
the window as the chauffeur spun the steering wheel to the side, nearly
careening off the side of the road as the sports car raced by.

Mikado saw red as he peeled himself up from the window and stared at the car
as it continued racing at top speed until it came to a screeching halt
before the main house. He didn't need to see the driver of the vehicle to
know who it was. Only his eldest cousin, Keitaro, would have the audacity to
drive like a crazed maniac and nearly force Mikado off the road. The clod
had dubbed himself 'The Speed King' and tried hard to live up to that name.
His motto was "If you can't get there fast, there's no sense in going." As
far as Mikado was concerned, the only place his cousin could race to was the
grave.

By the time Mikado's vehicle pulled up, Keitaro had already been admitted
entry to the manor and was out of sight. Perhaps it was just as well, Mikado
thought, as he reigned in his emotions. Causing an incident now, on the very
first day he had been allowed to attend the meeting, might well be the last
time he was invited. No, the stakes were too high to give in to his temper.
He would simply have to swallow his pride this time and let the incident
slide.

The servants admitted Mikado and led him from the entryway to the main hall.
Despite having been there on a number of occasions, the spectacle still took
Mikado's breath away. It displayed the true majesty of the Sanzenins. The
room itself was three stories high, and topped with a domed roof made
entirely of stained glass. When the sun was at its peak, it would bathe the
room in a rainbow of colors. Works of art, statues of exquisite, expensive
craftsmanship, and other signs of opulence dominated the chamber. But there
was one item, beyond all the others, that drew guests' eyes.

At the head of the staircase at the far side of the room was a portrait of a
woman of unsurpassed beauty. It was life sized, and the artwork so real, it
appeared the woman could emerge from the painting and walk down the stairs
to greet the guests that waited below.

The woman was Mikado's aunt, or had been, in life. She had died long before
Mikado was born. It was said she had been the centerpiece of Kentaro's
existence, even more important than the family business, or so rumor
claimed. Looking at her great beauty, even Mikado thought he would have
seriously considered giving up everything to possess her. Rumor had it
Kentaro had nearly done so, killing his own brother in a duel to win the
woman's hand.

Tragedy struck several years later as she fell victim to a disease while
traveling abroad and died. Even to this day, his uncle mourned her death,
and had refused any other women in his life. He didn't even take a mistress
in all that time. Though that fact had served Mikado, for that meant there
were no direct heirs to get in the way of his ascension through the family.
Only Keitaro and his younger brother Yoshihiro, who was but two years older
than Mikado, were male heirs in front of him. That made Mikado the third
most powerful member of his family, once his uncle passed on.

There had been one male heir, the only child that Kentaro had sired with his
wife, but Toshiro had done the unthinkable in turning his back on the family
and removing his name from the record, becoming a non-entity in the eyes of
the Empire. He did recoup his losses by triumphing in the Arena Tournament,
winning citizenship, money, and a name for himself. But Tetsuo Aritsukoji
would always be the traitorous Toshiro in the eyes of the Sanzenins. Not
that his name was ever muttered, at least in Kentaro's presence, unless one
wanted to find themselves sent to a property in Alaska to oversee ice
crystals freezing in their natural environment.

The sound of a young man and a giggling woman came from behind Mikado. He
turned to see his cousin, Yoshihiro, had arrived. Like his brother and
Mikado, he bore the handsome features of a Sanzenin that made women swoon
and men envious. He dressed in a suit that cost more than most commoners
made in a year.

On his arm was a girl about Mikado's age, giggling inanely. She was pretty,
though in a flashy, rather than reserved, noble manner. Obviously she lacked
breeding, not with those manners. There was something familiar about her
though. It took Mikado a moment to recall where he had seen her image
before. It had been on posters and CD's throughout the Empire. It was Naru
something or other. She was the newest flavor of the month pop idol that had
found favor with the commoners. True, her career would have the lifespan of
the average mayfly, but she was currently famous and quite the trophy for
Yoshihiro to hang on his arm. Mikado felt a stab of irritation over his
cousin's romantic success. Perhaps he would try to woo the girl from
Yoshihiro, just to prove he could, though he had no desire to sample used
goods, which Naru almost surely was, as most pop idols slept their way to
the top. That was what made virgins such a prize, so pure and pristine.
There was little Mikado enjoyed more than taking their innocence for
himself. Kodachi would be his. She must!

Yoshihiro waved at Mikado. "I'm surprised to see you here."

"It was decided I am of an age to attend the meetings," Mikado said with a
palpable air of hautiness. "I'm surprised to see you bring a date to such an
important event."

Yoshihiro shrugged. "The serving girls here are so ugly, I had to bring one
of my own."

If Naru took notice of the insult, she gave no indication of it. Instead she
continued giggling inanely and clinging to Yoshihiro's arm.

Yoshihiro patted her affectionately on the bottom. "Run along, my dear.
Family matters to discuss."

Naru pouted in an unnaturally cute manner. "But Yoshi, you promised you'd
show me around your family's big estate."

"Have one of the servants show you around. I'll join you when it's all
over."

Naru took the advice and left the room. As she did so, an older, and
decidedly unattractive, woman dressed in servant's livery entered. "Is there
anything my lords require?"

"See what I mean?" Yoshihiro said jokingly. "Give me a glass and a bottle of
sake. And make it quick."

The servant excused herself. She reappeared less than a minute later, bottle
and glass in hand. Yoshihiro poured himself a full glass and gulped down the
contents just as quickly as he poured it. He was pouring a second drink as
another person entered the room. He was tall, and a touch on the slender
side. Like the other youths, he possessed handsome features similar to the
others. The family resemblance between the trio was unmistakable. Any casual
observer would note it.

"So, Little Brother, couldn't stay sober for more than a minute?" Keitaro
asked.

Yoshihiro waved the glass in his direction. "You know me, old boy. I never
met a vice I didn't like."

"At least you're not high on the latest designer drug," Keitaro said acidly.
His attention shifted from his younger brother to the only other occupant in
the room. "Well, well, well. I'm surprised to see you here, Miki."

Mikado's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I very nearly didn't make it, thanks to
you."

Keitaro appeared bemused. "Ah, so that was your vehicle blocking my way. You
should inform your driver to make way for your betters, Miki."

"You are older than me, not my better," Mikado said, enough ice in his voice
to chill Yoshihiro's drink. "And you will not address me so casually. My
name is Mikado."

Yoshihiro paused in his drinking, one eyebrow lifted in curiosity at the
exchange.

Tension filled the air. Keitaro scowled at the tone being directed at him.
"You seem to forget your place, and it would serve you well to remember it.
Once our esteemed uncle passes on, I will control the zaibatsu and direction
of the clan. It would be best to remain on my good side, Miki."

Mikado sneered. "You don't have a good side. They are both equally
repulsive. And you can't drive worth a shit."

"Enough!" Keitaro spat. "Let's have a little challenge before the meeting.
As I recall, you have some passing familiarity with the jo sticks. I happen
to be a master of them. Why don't we have a match, you and I, to see who the
superior man is?"

"Done," Mikado said in just as eager tones.

Yoshihiro finally entered the conversation. "Uncle won't like two showing up
as a pair of bloody lumps. Not that I really care, but he might get agitated
and take it out on me."

Both men hesitated. Keitaro said, "Very well. We'll keep a point total, and
only shots to the main body. First one to strike three times wins. Yoshihiro
will judge the match."

Mikado nodded. Yoshihiro seemed amicable to the suggestion. He downed the
rest of his second drink, then motioned the others to head toward the dojo.

Like everything else on the Sanzenin Estate, the dojo was large and well
maintained, despite not being used often. Kentaro was not an athletic
person, and only Toshiro had trained there many years ago. Still, it
remained in pristine condition for the bodyguards to hone their talent or
for private matches to take place as a form of entertainment for guests.

The dojo was fully equipped with martial weaponry of every kind. Mikado and
Keitaro chose matching pairs of jo sticks. Each took a few practice swings
to familiarize themselves with the weight of the weapons and to loosen up.

Not wanting to waste any time, Keitaro was the first to move to the center
of the floor. He held his weapons casually, with an air of arrogance, as
though he knew the match would be over in a matter of minutes. "Aren't you
ready yet?" he snapped at Mikado.

Mikado took his time. He knew his cousin was an accomplished expert in the
jo sticks, though that passion was a distant second to his racing. He had
seen his older cousin spar with some of the guards, and drop them easily
enough. It had made such an impression on a younger Mikado that it was one
of the reasons he chose the jo sticks as his preferred weapon.

Keitaro probably would have been ranked as a master if he fought in any sort
of official tournaments with the weapons. He never did, though, considering
brawling with commoners as being beneath him. He probably thought fighting
with Mikado was beneath him as well. The one time they had dueled last year,
under more civil circumstances, Keitaro had won easily. He had even stated
that Mikado lacked even rudimentary talent. Now, things would be far, far
different. Training with Nanashi had improved Mikado's skills significantly.
Keitaro had no idea the honor that was being bestowed upon him in being the
first to fall to Mikado's new expertise.

Deciding he had taunted his cousin long enough, Mikado moved to the center
of the floor, directly across from Keitaro. Both youths bowed curtly, moves
intended to offend rather than honor, though all it did was add to the
desire of one to beat the other down.

"Ready!" All trace of alcoholic ease was gone from Yoshihiro. He held his
hand up, then brought it down in a sharp, slashing motion. "Begin!"

Keitaro moved lightly on the balls of his feet, dancing back and forth and
ready to shift his body at any moment. There was an almost hypnotic sway as
he slid closer to his foe, his eyes never leaving Mikado, not for a second.
There was only the sound of shoes tracing a delicate pattern on the floor as
he drew near to his opponent.

In stark contrast, Mikado remained motionless, dropping his jo sticks down
to his side, all but daring Keitaro to attack.

The older youth accepted the challenge. Like a serpent he drew back an arm
and lashed out with it, the jo sticks aimed right at Mikado's side.

Even quicker, Mikado brought his nearest jo stick up to deflect the blow. As
metal met metal, Keitaro lashed out with the other jo stick. Mikado was
faster this time, meeting the weapon in mid-swing. With contact occurring
earlier than Keitaro predicted, his weapon was sent out to the side, leaving
an opening Mikado took advantage of as he drove the end of the weapon into
Keitaro's flank.

"Point!" Yoshihiro declared. If he was rooting for either family member, he
gave no indication of it. He remained formal and business-like, the exact
opposite of his behavior up to that point.

The youths backed off. Keitaro rubbed at the spot, but didn't appear slowed
down. While it was a blow, there had not been much force behind it, due to
the short distance and using most of the force to deflect the older youth's
weapon.

Once the fighters appeared ready, Yoshihiro shouted "Begin!" again.

This time Mikado moved in to attack. Keitaro was barely able to raise a
defense as Mikado seemed to flow with the air, raining in repeated blows
toward Keitaro's body. Each block from the older of the fighters was in
desperation as Mikado's hands seemed to be everywhere at once. Keitaro
hurried to deflect three blows aimed at his right in rapid succession. An
overhand strike toward his torso was batted to the side. A pair aimed for
his left. With each defense, Mikado's weapons came closer to striking. The
sound of metal meeting metal echoed throughout the dojo.

It was on the seventh strike that Keitaro discovered he had been lured into
a trap. He was wide open as a whirling jo stick met his stomach, knocking
the wind out of him.

"Point," Yoshihiro announced again.

Both men stepped back to their formal positions. Mikado afforded a
lackadaisical sneer in Keitaro's direction. It was as he thought. He had
improved so much, Keitaro wasn't proving a challenge at all. Mikado couldn't
wait to face this low-born Saotome fool and beat him within an inch of his
life for daring to sully his Kodachi.

"Begin!" Yoshihiro shouted.

Something seemed to snap in Keitaro with the command. He was faster this
time, and attacked with a rage that caught Mikado off-guard. His jo sticks
were nearly invisible black blurs as Mikado poured everything he had into
defense. A rain of blows thumped off the jo sticks as the younger fighter
found himself on the defensive for the first time in the bout. Like Keitaro
before, he was managing to deflect the body shots, though his time to
recover between blows lessened with each strike.

Mikado thought he had weathered the worst of it when the unexpected
occurred. Rather than aiming for Mikado's body, as the rules demanded,
Keitaro aimed for his head. Mikado was barely able to bring a stick up to
block the skull-splitting strike. This left him open for a kick to the
midsection, which sent Mikado sprawling backward flat on his back.

"Point!" Yoshihiro shouted.

Keitaro hesitated only a moment before a feral look crossed his handsome
features. Rather than backing away and returning to his proper position, he
shouted out battle cry and raised his jo sticks high above his head.

"Enough!" Yoshihiro shouted.

Keitaro paid his brother no mind. Instead he brought the jo sticks down,
aiming for Mikado's unprotected skull.

Reflexes took over as Mikado rolled out of the way, allowing the weapons to
impact with the floor of the dojo, shattering the wood where his head had
been but a moment before. Still on his back, he barely evaded a second blow
aimed at the same target.

Nanashi's training finally exerted itself. Mikado lashed out with his leg,
tripping the already off-balance Keitaro backward. Even as the older fighter
was falling, Mikado leapt up, landing on his feet and with jo sticks drawn
back to unleash a blow.

Keitaro tried to block the strike from his back, and succeeded, though the
impact was so hard the weapon he used flew from his grasp. A moment later,
the second was sent flying through the air as well.

"I yield!" Keitaro was quick to shout.

"Refused," Mikado said simply, and brought a trio of strikes down on the
helpless foe. Two ribs and a collarbone broke, as well as a blow to the
shoulder which rendered the arm limp.

Keitaro rolled on the ground in a fit of agony, hissing in pain rather than
shouting. Mikado looked down on him in contempt. He resisted the urge to
spit on him. The effect would be lost anyway, as Keitaro appeared to be in
too much agony to notice anything.

"Game, set, and match." Yoshihiro clapped in amusement. He walked over to
Mikado and offered him a congratulatory drink, ignoring the groaning agony
his brother was in. "You might want to wash up a bit. Uncle doesn't like
sweaty people. I'll let the staff know poor Keitaro fell down some stairs
and send my regard to Uncle that he'll be unable to attend the meeting."

Mikado was surprised by the gesture on Yoshihiro's part. Not that he thought
his cousin was siding with him, he wasn't foolish enough to believe
something like that. It was a surprise he felt such disdain toward his
brother. Mikado made a mental note to remember that if he needed to
manipulate one against the other.

As Mikado left the dojo to clean himself off, he allowed his thoughts to
consider the ramifications of the battle. The fight had proven one thing
above all others; Mikado was man enough to be in charge of the family once
his uncle passed away. He would have to stay alert for an opportunity to see
to it his cousins were removed from his path to greatness, preferably
through some dishonorable act on their part, persuading them to voluntarily
renounce their claim to the fortune. If that didn't work, other measures
would have to be considered.

But that was for years in the future. There were more important matters on
hand. Today Mikado had to impress his uncle and the other members of the
zaibatsu. Then it would be the matter of securing Kodachi as his lover and
eventual wife. It would have to be some time after graduating college that
serious steps to seizing control of the clan would have to be enacted. One
thing was for certain, though.

It was good to be Mikado Sanzenin.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

[End fic.]

Just a little look into Mikado and the way the Sanzenins operate. Hope you
enjoyed.







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