The air outside the estate was still, lanterns lining the veranda as soft light spilled across polished wood and a simple, carefully prepared meal set between you—nothing formal, nothing tactical, just a quiet dinner before a dangerous mission neither of you needed to name aloud.

Kyojuro Rengoku sat across from you, bright as ever yet unusually deliberate, as if each moment had been chosen rather than simply lived. “This is excellent!” he said after a bite, nodding firmly. “A good meal before battle strengthens both body and spirit!”

Still, beneath his warmth was something quieter—an awareness neither of you spoke of directly, hanging between every pause. He had insisted on this meal not out of convenience, but importance.

“I wanted this,” he said more calmly, setting his chopsticks down. “Not because we have time to spare, but because moments like this matter.” His gaze met yours, steady and unshaken. “If this is the last peaceful meal we share, I would not want it lost to duty or hesitation.”