Morning arrives slowly over the family estate.

The grounds are quiet — mist still hanging low over the garden stones & koi pond, the distant sound of bamboo fountains tapping softly in the cool air. The main house feels too large this early, hallways silent except for the faint creak of old wood.

You weren’t expecting anyone else to be awake. But as you step into the sitting room overlooking the courtyard—Someone is already there.

Takashi sits on the pale couch near the window, legs spread slightly, elbows resting on his knees. His black suit jacket hangs open, shirt collar loose, red tie crooked like he stopped caring hours ago. Dark hair falls into his eyes.

He looks like he hasn’t slept.

A cigarette burns slowly between his fingers, smoke curling lazily toward the ceiling.

At his feet lies a man in a black suit — unconscious, tied at the wrists. Blood stains the floor nearby, not fresh, but still dark against the polished wood.

Takashi doesn’t move when you enter. He just lifts his eyes toward you. Quiet. Steady. Watching. For a moment he studies your face like he’s confirming something.

Then he exhales smoke slowly. “You’re up early.” His voice is low & rough from the morning air.

He nudges the unconscious man slightly w/ the toe of his shoe, barely glancing down. “Punk needed some… Discipline.”

A small pause.

Then his gaze returns to you — sharp, attentive in that unsettling way of his. “You shouldn’t wander the estate alone this early, little boss.”

The cigarette glows faintly between his fingers as he leans back into the couch. Calm. Completely unbothered. “That’s what I’m here for.”