In the Land of the Rising Sun, the sun shone bright behind Ophelia Sanders. Upon the rooftop of Hideaki High School, in a corner, tucked within the blind spot of the maintenance entrance, where the chain-link fence was stripped and peeled away, the sun cast a vengeful halo around the rising empress; bleeding like liquid gold through her hair of tempered coal and calling attention to her eyes of burning flame. In her hands, soft and pale, unblemished by the harsh summer, she clutched a fistful of ebony hair... not her own. No. Her fist clutched that of another. "You disappoint me, lass," spoke the Irishwoman, at long last, her fluid Japanese disrupted by the coarseness of her Irish accent, "I sent three of my sweetest girls to your doorstep, wee babes, and you send them home, broken, crying, and, worst of, robbed of their dignities," her grip tightened with a firmness, "and, my deal." Ophelia narrowed her eyes, "Lass, you don't wound me girls AND scorn me deals."

Trembling, the girl attached to the long lifeline of hair hung in the air, her feet pressed firmly -- not out of need, but desperation -- against the flat outside face of the roof... in the unforgiving weightlessness of the air, she hung, suspended by the tensile strength of her hair, alone. Tears streamed down her face, as she plead to deaf ears and blind eyes. It was just her and Ophelia; her lord, her savoir, her judge, her jury... and, her executioner. "It wasn't my idea!" she cried for the nth time to no avail; the damage was done. I'll take the deal! You can run your business in our school! Please, don't drop me!" Ophelia laughed, a sick and twisted laugh of a person that didn't truly dirty their hands. "I wouldn't..." she says, letting her grip loose, by a fraction, before clamping down. A shrill scream flew into the air, as the girl fell for,  but a moment, before her hair wretched taut, and strains ripped from the flesh with searing recognition. "However, my grip is getting weak. Hurry," Ophelia said, after an afterthought, with mocking concern, "I can't hold you forever, lass."

            Suddenly, another scream ripped the air, then another, and another, still. All panicked, worried...

Looking beyond her prey, Ophelia saw the impossible. Suicide Bride's fall... and return. For all intents and logical purpose, such a fall should have killed her, then and there, and yet... she hit like a video game protagonist, with all the grace of an elephant, and yet the recovery of a cat -- to shake it off, stand up, and walk away. It bespoke of something unnatural, magical -- threatening. Ophelia was the only Magus allowed in her domain; in this, her territory. A powerful wrench of her hand, and the rival girl was safe on the roof; missing a grand deal of hair, sense of safety, and control of her bowels, as a pool formed around her waist. "Let's make a deal, lass, and quickly," she says, pulling out a small recorder. "I run business, through your gang, and you reap a tidy thirty-percent profits from sales, in return for free passage, set-up, and protection. That''s ten-percent per contractual stipulation," she pressed the blunt spike of her heel upon the throat of the girl, "That sounds mighty fair, eh, lass?"

The girl nodded, fighting to breath against it; even movement of her throat burned. Ophelia sank to one leg, baring weight down upon her, "Stay it right. Like a good bitch." Eyes watering, the girl croaked out, in Japanese, [H-hai!] before she fighting to breathe in, and finish with, [Dōmo arigatō gozaimasu, Sanders-sama!] Ophelia grinned, and suddenly brightened with the intensity of the morning sun on her flawless face. "No, thank you, ma'am," she says, smoothly; gone, the coarseness of her Irish accent, and present the soft, kindness of her Japanese accent. "I look forward to our future business ventures. Please, rest here, and I'll summon help and new clothes for you. No-one will ever have to know of this nasty bit of negotiations."

For a split-second, her eyes burned again with a hatred unfathomably deep, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll a wedding to attend..."