I’d be lying if I said I knew all that much about the Akagami Foundation. They’re not exactly the most well-publicized organization in the world. Plus, since they mostly operated out of the Kanto region, someone like me who was born in Kobe, grew up in Houston, Texas, and lived in Kyoto wouldn’t know that much about them.
Putting it simply, the Akagami mansion was the home to a storied legacy of business barons. That business might have been some kind of trade, or a system in which money just poured in on its own. I’m not sure what exactly it is that they did, but whatever it was, one thing was for sure: the Akagami Foundation was loaded.
Holding property not just in Japan but all over the world, the Akagami Foundation was the owner of Wet Crow’s Feather Island as well. And the owner of the Western-style mansion found in the center of the island was none other than Akagami Iria.
As you might guess from her name, Iria was related to the head of the Akagami Foundation—his granddaughter, in fact. She was a born-and-bred pedigreed princess, for whom no obsequious praise was too obsequious. Over time, she had inherited vast amounts of enormous wealth and unbelievable power and ruled over a great many underlings. But then, the head of the Foundation himself had completely cut her off. So maybe this is all really better expressed in the past tense.
Cut off.
I don’t know what she did to deserve it, but it must have been something big.
Supposedly she was permanently removed from the family five years ago, at the age of sixteen. At that time, the head of the family left her with a small severance package (which was probably still an unimaginable sum to a regular Joe like me) and this island, floating around in the Sea of Japan.
In other words, she had been exiled.
Maybe these days that seems old-fashioned. But far be it for me to butt into other people’s ways of doing things. Especially if those people belong to a powerful institution that’s practically its own world in and of itself.
Anyway, Iria had spent the last five years here with her four maids, not once setting foot off the island. Five years on this godforsaken island in the middle of nowhere, with no amusements, no nothing. In a sense, it was life in Hell, though I would speculate that, in a different sense, it was also a little like life in Heaven.
But was Iria-san lonely or bored? Indeed, you could say Kunagisa had been invited to the island to stave off Iria’s boredom. But it wasn’t just Kunagisa. In the same way, it would be no exaggeration to say that Akane-san, Maki-san, Yayoi-san, and Kanami-san had all been brought here for the same purpose.
Well, okay, maybe it’s a little bit of an exaggeration.
So, anyway, forbidden to leave the island, Iria-san said, “Well, if that’s how it is,” and proceeded to invite, as her guests, the world’s most prominent figures.
Now, it “prominent figures” sounds a little weird, let me try putting it another way. Iria had decided to invite so-called geniuses to her mansion. It was a simple plan: “If I can’t go to them, they can come to me.”
Famous and unknown alike, all those who possessed genuine talent and amazing skill were summoned by Iria-san, one after another after another. And, of course, all expenses, including accommodations, were covered by Iria-san. In fact, visitors to the island were often given money, so it was pretty much always a win-win situation for them.
To me, it seemed like Iria-san was going for that whole ancient Greek salon image, collecting and cavorting with all these artists and geniuses—and thereby living a fruitful life. To be sure, it wasn’t the most typical idea around, but yes, there was something amazing about it. Aside from the mansion and the forest, the island was essentially empty—almost a desert island—and for those world-weary men and women of talent who needed to rest both the body and the mind, it was the perfect place. And thus had Iria-san’s plan been a tremendous success.
Now then.
Walking around aimlessly on this empty island, basking in the forest, it was by an extremely distant cherry blossom tree that I suddenly ran into Shinya-san.
“Oh, er, that is, I mean,” Shinya-san said, waving a hand to greet me. “You’re quite the early bird there, eh? Mister… er, what was your name again? Sorry, my memory’s a little weak, y’see.”
He had a good four inches on me, and his designer clothes were much better than mine. His expression was mild-mannered, his way of speaking was mild-mannered, and so was, somehow, his clothing and stature, but whether or not Shinya-san really was mild-mannered, I couldn’t say. I don’t have the skill to judge someone just based on their appearance, and I’m the last person to jump to conclusions after knowing someone for just a couple of days.
“I don’t believe I ever told you,” I answered with a shrug. “I’m just Kunagisa Tomo’s sidekick. No need for a sidekick to have a name, am I right?”
“That’s awfully modest of you. Not that it’s any wonder, being on this island, but speaking of sidekicks, I suppose I’m in the same boat as you,” Shinya-san said and smirked.
Yes, Shinya-san and I were no more than tagalongs. It probably goes without saying at this point, but I wasn’t here walking around on this island because I was any kind of genius. Kunagisa Tomo was the “genius” here, and I was nothing more than her attendant. If she hadn’t said to me, “Ii-chan, it turns out I’ll be going to some island, so come with me, ‘kay?” right about now I would’ve been in my Kyoto four-tatami-sized room getting ready for school.