Charles Ashford. Age, 56.
"Honorable to all. Friend of many. A loving father and a successful businessman."
The funeral was held one Friday weeks following the fact. His death in the obituary, scheduled for a nice 16:00 in a Birmingham church. A church that Charles, personally, arranged for his funeral to take place in. His staff were given express instructions on how the funeral will occur in the event of his death, with butlers and maids arranging the funeral.
Due to the nature of his death, there was a sizeable attendance at this most public of occasions. Business partners and friends present to mourn a good man's death. News reporters and journalists present to cover the following service. Teachers and classmates of his heir, and daughter, making time to be present as well.
"... it is with deepest regrets that I must announce that my father has passed..."
Chouko Ashford stands and gives her eulogy, dressed in funeral uniform of pure black. As the only family Charles had left, really, she was under great self pressure to give the speech. Readying to have her words documented by those blatantly holding notepads in their hands and all. Only recently, this child was shown with delight and joy.
Now, not a soul could see her smile.
As she goes on and on about fond memories of Charles, cementing him as the kind, protective, generous man he was. As the ten year old Chouko was expected to succumb to tears and sadness. The attendees simply witness a ten year old with no more tears to shed. Her words empty and hollow, eyes blankly gazing forward as she speaks.
Chouko's concluding words... "May his soul rest free, contently in Heaven, blind to the world he departs from..."
Her voice hesitant at the end, hiding whatever sadness lingers in those words, before she goes back to her seat. Sitting right at the front, blankly staring as the proceedings continue.
It was all a blur to Chouko, really...
"... apologies, Lady Ashford. There is a man out front, requesting for your presence. He was not permitted to enter given his... special guest."
Chouko looks at the butler, the blur interrupted by the whispering man. Her eyebrow raised, she... curiously gets up from her seat and briefly departs, being escorted to the front of the church, various funeral attendees watching as Charles's only family departs.
There, outside, Chouko encounters that... inventor. The one that conducted that presentation weeks ago. With him, on a wheel cart, the mass of machinery that was Vanilla.
"A-Ah! Uhm- hey, little girl!" the inventor greets, an awkward smile on his face with an inappropriately upbeat tone behind his voice.
"Good afternoon..." Politely nodding to the inventor, before directing her attention to Vanilla. "And... good afternoon to you."
"Yes. Good afternoon," Vanilla speaks... before letting out a robotic sigh. As human as ever. "... I... I am sorry for your loss, Chouko. Charles was a good man..."
The inventor... nods slowly. "Mhmm... w-we happened to be in town, and... came to pay our respects. To think it- it happened the day we meet and everything... I- I'm so sorry it happened."
"Sorry for your loss," Vanilla corrects him.
Chouko just... nods lightly at the two. "Thank you. You have arrived in the late stage of the funeral. Respects are being paid, and... momentarily, the church will lay Father to rest in its burial ground and all. Father... would have enjoyed knowing you two came to pay respects, I suppose."
"A-Ah..." the inventor noises, fidgeting idly. "W... Would you like a hug? I- I think people hug at funerals to feel better..."
Chouko... narrows her eyes slightly, before she nods idly at this sudden request. "I see no issue with it."
YOU ARE READING
Revenge Fantasy
Mystery / ThrillerKuroiwa. A known figure throughout the mercenary black market, more recently renowned as something "inevitable". As an employer, any job that he puts up is regarded as the highest demand, money not an object. As a mercenary, she carries out her own...
