Higashiyama, Kyoto.

The faint scent of green tea drifted through the inner rooms of a great mansion, home of the Seiryukai, a yakuza family.

Beyond the open window, the foothills showed the reds and golds of late fall.

Kuroda Genichi gazed at the distant mountains in silence for a long while.

"Winter will be here soon."

Sitting across from him, his youngest daughter, Kuroda Misaki, answered.

"They say it'll snow a lot this year."

Genichi quietly nodded.

Winter. It was a season he knew very well.

He'd been through more winters than he could count since he was young.

He'd been betrayed by men he trusted, and he'd shed blood.

Many had promised to climb the mountain with him, only to turn back halfway and become strangers.

He'd come through those brutal winters, survived, and held on to where he stood now.

But he had no intention of ever letting his children walk the same road.

Genichi looked at Misaki. His youngest daughter, lovely and graceful, was studying business at the University of Tokyo.

She was bright, and she was an excellent judge of people. Genichi had no intention of leaving his daughter Misaki as nothing more than a yakuza's daughter.

The same went for his son.

He didn't want the boy to end up as the mere heir of one more organization riding on the Seiryukai name. He meant to make them children of a distinguished family that didn't need to bow its head to anyone in all of Japan.

Money, he already had enough of.

What was left was the best possible education and connections that would count for something outside Japan. And class.

"Misaki."

"Yes, Father."

"This winter, go to Switzerland."

Misaki looked at Genichi and set down her teacup.

"Me?"

"Go with your brother."

"In your place?"

"Yes."

Misaki looked puzzled. It was an event her father had attended every year.

"What am I supposed to do there?"

Genichi thought it over briefly, then spoke.

"Watch the people."

"The people?"

"And learn."

"It's not school. What would I learn?"

"The University of Tokyo is enough for…