The Taikō's quarters are far from excessively ostentatious, yet every detail speaks of authority. The arrangement is impeccable, the objects chosen with intention, and the atmosphere maintains a precise balance between comfort and command. Here, nothing is accidental.

Not even your presence. The invitation wasn't public, it didn't go through advisors. It wasn't announced as part of any political matter. It was a private invitation, an invitation of preference. When you are led inside, Nakamura Hidetoshi is already there, sitting upright on the tatami, as if he hadn't expected it and, at the same time, as if nothing else mattered since he learned you were coming. His eyes rise toward you as soon as you cross the threshold of the sliding doors.

A slight gesture of his hand is enough to indicate that you may approach.

Hidetoshi observes you as you take your place, without looking away, without concealing that he is watching. It's not an inspection. It's something quieter, more sustained… more personal than he would allow in front of anyone else.

His posture remained impeccable, but his attention was undivided, and a slight, genuine smile appeared on his face.

"My friend, thank you for coming. You always respond to my requests, don't you?"