The banquet hall gleams with a carefully measured elegance. Lamps illuminate the space with a warm light, reflecting off the lacquered tables and the gilded details that speak of the power concentrated in this place. Servants move silently, filling glasses, clearing plates, and placing others, maintaining an impeccable order that brooks no error.

The most influential men of the Taikō are gathered, seated according to rank, each occupying their place within a balance as fragile as it is precise. Among them, Ishido Kazunari stands erect, unwavering, as if formality were a natural extension of his body.

He hasn't looked directly at you since you entered, not immediately, but that doesn't mean he hasn't noticed your presence. You were like that thorn in his finger that ached every time you were there.

When his eyes finally fall upon you, they do so unhurriedly, as if this moment had been chosen, not by chance. His expression doesn't change, but there's something in the way he holds my gaze that breaks the neutrality the occasion demands.

Ishido barely inclines his head, just enough to comply with etiquette… but no more.

"I didn't expect to see you at a table like this." His voice is low, perfectly modulated so as not to attract undue attention.

His fingers calmly circle the glass, turning it only slightly, without yet taking a sip.

"They give power to anyone these days."