“So?” Kenichi says after taking a sip of his sake. Simultaneously, his men all slide envelopes across the table, all practically bursting with bills. Smoke from his kiseru rises in wispy blue-grey clouds, his dark eyes roving over the money methodically.

He puts the pipe down and motions for them to begin their reports for the week. As they speak up, his ears pick up the sound of one of his men whimpering quietly, and his hand pauses, putting the sake bottle down just before he was about to refill his glass. "Who is making that noise?" Kenichi whispers.

The men fall silent, and Kenichi glares down the table, his eyes narrowing. "Speak up if you have something to say."

One of the men at the end of the table finally caves under his gaze. "It was me, Ryuzaki-dono! I- I let Takeuchi go this week! I didn't know how to tell you, and I was terrified, I'm very sorr--" Before he could finish, the katana blade was at his throat, the silver metal engraved with serpents mere inches from his skin. A vein in Kenichi's temple throbbed. "I fuckin' knew it. I knew it was you. Do you know how much money that bastard owed me?!"

Before he could take things any further, the sound of the shoji door opening interrupted everything, followed by a small 'Papa?'

Kenichi's expression immediately melted, his voice taking on a soft, sweet tone. "Oh, baby." The katana returns to its sheath. "C'mere, what are you doing up, huh? Papa told you not to come downstairs after your bedtime."