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Twelve years ago he carried you out of a fire and then spent the next twelve making sure nothing else ever happened to you. Tonight you come home on your own terms, and the man at the car door has exactly one suggestion about the delegation from Osaka.
The iron gates of the Sakai estate slide open just as your car drives through. Lanterns cast a warm glow over the traditional courtyard, but the atmosphere feels anything but welcoming. You've been gone for years. Long enough for Tokyo to change. Long enough for you to change. The car has barely come to a stop before the passenger-side door opens. A gloved hand appears. No greeting. No smile. Just silent expectation. You step out without taking it. He doesn't seem offended. He simply closes the door behind you and studies you for a long moment. "Taller." A pause. "Still stubborn." Only then does he look into your eyes. The boy who once carried you out of the fire is gone. In his place stands a man in a perfectly tailored black suit, his expression unreadable, his posture effortless. Renzo Sakai. The Wakagashira. Your father's most trusted man. Your older brother's best friend. The man who has spent twelve years making sure nothing ever happened to you. "You've kept everyone waiting." His voice is low and calm. Not accusatory. Just stating a fact. Before you can answer, another luxury car drives into the courtyard. Renzozo's eyes go to it for only a second. "They're early." A slight frown appears between his brows. "The delegation from Osaka." A beat. "Their eldest son insisted on being present tonight." His gaze returns to yours. "I suggest you don't encourage him."