The Funeral

I already knew that much. But the old man wasn’t finished.

“You think that’s all I know? I know everything about you. Why do you think the suit you’re wearing right now fits so perfectly? Your old classmates from school, those pathetic grades you got all those years… There is nothing about you I don’t know!”

No. You really don’t know me at all, Grandfather.

I silently refuted Taira Danzo’s words in my head. The person standing here wasn’t the Hata Ryuta he thought he knew. I was ■■■. But of course I didn’t say it out loud. If I told anyone I’d been possessed by a character from a game, even my own ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mother would have me committed to a mental hospital before I could finish the sentence.

Still, judging from what he was saying, it seemed the old man had been keeping tabs on me all this time. Knowing about my school friends and grades proved that much. It was a little creepy, but I supposed this was Taira Danzo’s version of showing affection.

“So what exactly do you want from me, Grandfather?”

“From this moment on, you are Taira Ryuta. The moment you were born, I had your name registered in Saburo’s family registry.”

Was that even possible? It meant I now had two separate family registers. I was both Jin Yongtae, son of Jin Mija, and Taira Ryuta, son of Taira Saburo. I’d probably need two passports too. Before I could even process the implications, Taira Danzo continued speaking.

“I already called that pathetic little company you were supposed to join and told them you wouldn’t be coming. You were scheduled to start in three weeks, weren’t you? Starting three weeks from now, you will report here instead.”

As he spoke, he tossed an employee ID card onto the table in front of me. I picked it up and read it. It said: Taira Group Human Resources Development Center — Employee — Taira Ryuta. Moving from a small company to a megacorp was definitely an upgrade. Still, the three-week start date hadn’t changed.

“Your father Saburo left behind no personal assets. If you want anything, you’d better work hard for it.”

The words hit me like a bolt from the blue. I’d been secretly hoping for some kind of inheritance, my heart racing with excitement. But Taira Danzo simply left the employee ID behind and walked away. Damn it, Saburo… Why didn’t ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you save any money before you died? Why leave me with nothing?

The brief commotion caused by my grandfather soon died down as the monk who would bestow the posthumous Buddhist name arrived, drawing everyone’s attention.

Let me quickly explain what a kaimyo is. It’s a Buddhist-style name given to the deceased, similar to a Dharma name. In Japan, when a funeral is conducted according to Buddhist rites, a monk comes to grant the kaimyo. There have been social issues about monks charging exorbitant fees for them, but in a family as filthy rich as this one, money clearly wasn’t an issue.

I wasn’t particularly interested in any of that, so I spent the time talking with my mother.

According to her, she had a brief relationship with my father, Taira Saburo, back in university. They dated for about a year before breaking up, and only afterward did she discover she was pregnant with me. When Saburo heard the news, he offered to take responsibility, but my mother refused. She didn’t want a loveless marriage. Still, since I was half his child, she had accepted child support from him. That was how we’d been able to live comfortably all these years.

When I asked why she never went to university, Jin Mija told me that I had assumed our single-mother household was poor and had given up on higher education without even asking.

She said she had told me countless times that she had enough money to send me to college, but I hadn’t believed her. Jin Yongtae, you absolute idiot… If Mom said she could afford it, I should have just trusted her instead of jumping to conclusions and slacking off on my studies.

While we were talking, two middle-aged men approached us. One was a thin, sharp-looking intellectual with glasses. The other was a large, heavily built man who looked like a modern-day samurai.

“So you’re Ryuta. I am your eldest uncle, Taira Ichiro. This is your second uncle, Taira Jiro.”

“Hello.”

“Handsome boy. Must take after someone.”

“Saburo had a decent face too, after all.”

The thin intellectual was Taira Danzo’s eldest son, Ichiro. The big one was Jiro. They praised my appearance and acted friendly, but their eyes were ice cold. That was only natural. The vast empire known as the Taira Group could only be inherited by one person. They had been thrilled when the third son died, only for his son to suddenly appear. There was no way they could look at me favorably.

“We have ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠something to discuss with your mother. Why don’t you go greet your cousins over there?”

In the direction Ichiro pointed, several young people were gathered. They all looked older than me. Since Taira Danzo had three sons and three daughters, and Taira Saburo had been the youngest, it was likely I was the youngest in the entire Taira family. If my guess was right, I really was the youngest son of a megacorp family—just like the title of that drama and the game. I wondered if that was pure coincidence.

I walked over to my cousins. The oldest-looking one appeared to be in his early thirties, while most were in their mid-to-late twenties. There were a few mixed-race individuals like me, which suggested Taira Danzo didn’t care what other blood was mixed in as long as it carried his own. Of course, I looked fully East Asian with no visible mixed features, but among my cousins were white and Latin mixed-race members.

“You’re Ryuta? With your father dead, you probably have the highest succession rank among all of us now.”

“What are you talking about? Tabenobu is clearly first. You think I don’t know he inherited a small stake from our eldest uncle?”

They were already arguing about succession order at our very first meeting. Their parents hadn’t even inherited the chairman position yet. For the record, Tabenobu was Ichiro’s eldest son. He was currently working at a Taira Group branch in the United States and couldn’t attend the funeral.

“There’s no need to talk about something as stiff as succession on our first meeting. I’m Taira Yuichi, eldest son of Taira Jiro.”

Yuichi, who looked to be the oldest among them at around thirty, introduced himself first, and the others followed. Interestingly, despite being the son of the massive Jiro, Taira Yuichi had a small build and gave off the impression of a scholarly type.

The rest introduced themselves as well, but since I wasn’t particularly interested, I only remembered their names and moved on. Having everyone’s last name be Taira made it all a bit dizzying.

Aside from Yuichi who introduced himself first, there were only two people worth remembering. And by “worth remembering,” I obviously meant beautiful ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠women.

The first was the woman who had brought up Tabenobu earlier—Taira Kisa, eldest daughter of Taira Kokoro, who was Taira Danzo’s eldest daughter. She was pretty but had a fierce, no-nonsense vibe. She told me she had launched her own clothing brand and it was doing very well.

In Japan, women usually take their husband’s surname after marriage. However, Taira Kokoro—eldest daughter of the chairman—had kept the Taira name, and her husband had become the son-in-law who took her family name instead. Because of that, tabloids claimed Taira Kokoro had ambitions of becoming the next chairman of the Taira Group.

The second woman who caught my eye was almost fully white-passing: Aris FitzGerald.

As her surname suggested, Aris FitzGerald had inherited a lot from her white father. At first glance, she looked completely Caucasian. Blonde hair, green eyes, and skin as white as snow. She said she worked as a model. She wasn’t particularly tall, but her figure and face were flawless. In a word, she was beautiful with an incredible body. Being a model, she had a slightly slender, elegant look.

There wasn’t much to talk about on a first meeting, and honestly, the cousins didn’t seem particularly close to one another. After all, their fathers and mothers were all rivals competing for the position of head of the Taira Group.

The only one who didn’t seem obsessed with the chairman’s seat was Aris’s mother, Nae FitzGerald, who lived abroad. Everyone else simply wore fake smiles while trying to gauge each other’s strengths and weaknesses.

A few people tried talking to me to figure out what I was like, but once they realized I hadn’t even gone to university, they quickly lost interest. The only one who kept speaking to me was Aris FitzGerald, who had no interest in the Taira Group succession race.

“You’re pretty handsome, you know? You look like a K-pop idol.”

“You’re beautiful too. You look like a Hollywood actress.”

“Really? I do plan to work in Hollywood someday.”

Aris giggled brightly at my cheesy line. She seems to like that kind of thing a bit too much, doesn’t she? From our conversation, I learned her father was a promising American businessman. His company wasn’t quite at megacorp scale, but it was quite solid. She also said she had lived mostly in the United States and had no desire for anything within the Taira Group. Recently she had been working as a model in Japan, so she spent most of her time here now. We exchanged LINE IDs and promised to grab a meal together sometime.

While I was chatting with Aris FitzGerald, time passed quickly. Before I knew it, the coffin containing Taira Saburo’s body had arrived. In Japan, it was customary to hold a vigil called tsuya, spending the night beside the coffin, which was why it had been brought inside the house.

The relatives moved to the large room and sat down around the coffin. Spending meaningless time like this for a father whose face I didn’t even know felt annoying, but since he had paid child support all these years, I supposed I could endure it.