The meeting had lasted far longer than anyone wanted.
By the time the room finally fell silent, the tea had gone cold and what remained of everyone's patience had worn thin.
The elders of the Gojo Clan sat with varying degrees of displeasure written across their faces. Some were still studying the documents laid before them. Others had stopped pretending they might find a new objection among pages they had already read several times.
Hiroyuki waited.
At last, the eldest set the final page down.
"The clan will support the proposal."
He did not sound pleased, but neither did he force the words through clenched teeth. It was the measured tone of a man accepting a decision he considered necessary, if deeply inconvenient.
"Provisionally," another elder added at once. "Our support ends if the final agreement differs substantially from what you've presented here."
"That's reasonable," Hiroyuki said.
Several faces tightened at how readily he accepted the condition. They had spent the better part of the evening preparing to drag that concession out of him.
The eldest tapped one finger against the document.
"Don't misunderstand our decision. There are risks here that you seem far too willing to treat as manageable. If this fails publicly, the embarrassment will not belong to you alone. The clan's name will be attached to it."
"I know."
"See that you continue to remember it."
Their support had not been given out of affection, fear, or sudden faith in Hiroyuki's judgment. They had agreed because the proposal offered the clan enough to justify the risk—and because refusing to take a position would leave Hiroyuki free to approach the other clans without them.
None of the elders found that possibility particularly appealing.
"But our clan's support won't be enough," the elder continued. "You know that, don't you?"
"I do."
"You'll need the other two clans behind you. Without them, headquarters will bury this before it reaches a formal discussion."
Hiroyuki nodded.
He had expected that answer from the beginning. The Gojo Clan might have been one of the Big Three, but even they couldn't force a change of this scale by themselves.
Another elder leaned forward.
"And how exactly are you planning to bring the others to your side?"
"The Kamo Clan may be persuaded to listen. The Zenin are another matter. They will oppose it simply because the suggestion came from this room—and that's before they begin looking for what advantage you're hiding."
For a moment, Hiroyuki said nothing.
Then, with the decision settled, he rose from his seat.
"You don't need to worry about that, Uncle."
"I have my ways."
The answer earned him several unimpressed looks.
"That is not an answer," one elder said.
"It's the only one I can give until I've spoken with them."
"Then don't become clever at the clan's expense."
Hiroyuki met the man's gaze. "I don't intend to."
The elder continued to stare at him for a moment, plainly unconvinced, but let the matter rest. There was little value in demanding a strategy Hiroyuki clearly had no intention of discussing yet.
Hiroyuki adjusted his clothes and turned toward the exit.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have something scheduled early tomorrow."
He offered the room a brief bow, then slid the door open and stepped outside.
The door closed behind him.
Silence returned.
"We should have demanded his approach to the Zenin before agreeing," one elder said.
"And spent another hour listening to him refuse?" another replied. "The decision would be the same."
"That doesn't make it a good one."
"No. It makes it the least damaging one available."
The distinction did little to improve anyone's mood.
If they had rejected the proposal outright, Hiroyuki would not have abandoned it. He would have gone to the Kamo and Zenin clans on his own, presenting himself as a member of the Gojo Clan while making it clear that his own elders had failed to control the discussion within their walls.
Supporting him kept the negotiations under the clan's name. More importantly, it gave them the right to impose conditions if the other two clans showed any interest.
It was not capitulation.
It was containment.
At least, that was how they preferred to regard it.
"The Kamo may demand concessions," one elder said. "Concessions we haven't discussed."
"Then he will bring them back here before promising anything."
"You sound very certain."
The eldest gave him a flat look. "I told him to. Whether he obeys is precisely why we are still sitting here."
A few humorless murmurs followed.
"And the Zenin?"
"They'll refuse."
"Immediately?"
"Probably after making him wait long enough to feel insulted."
That earned a short, dry laugh from one side of the room.
The eldest did not join in. His gaze remained on the closed door.
"He expected our conditions," he said.
The room quieted.
"Of course he did," another elder replied. "They were obvious."
"Perhaps. But he also expected us to agree."
There was no admiration in the observation. Only irritation at the possibility that the entire argument had unfolded within boundaries Hiroyuki had already accounted for.
One elder gathered the documents into a neat stack.
"He's grown difficult to manage."
"He is nineteen, accomplished, and increasingly independent. Of course he is difficult to manage. We were no simpler at his age."
"At his age, none of us walked into this room asking the clan to stake its standing on a proposal involving all three families."
"No," the eldest said. "Which is why we need to stop treating these meetings as though scolding him will be enough."
That silenced the room more effectively than any praise could have.
Hiroyuki was no longer a child waiting for the elders to decide what he was permitted to become. He now had his own standing, his own allies, and enough freedom to act without asking them first.
That did not make him greater than the clan.
It made mishandling him politically expensive.
After a moment, one of the elders returned to the more immediate concern.
"If the Zenin are certain to refuse, what does he think he can offer them?"
No one answered.
The eldest looked once more toward the door, his expression tightening slightly.
"We'll know soon enough."
_____
The next morning, the Gojo Estate was unusually lively.
Servants moved back and forth throughout the grounds. Children secretly peeked around corners, while several clan members had suddenly found excuses to pass through areas they ordinarily had no reason to visit.
After all, word had already spread.
Hiroyuki and Satoru were going to have one of their usual spars.
By the time Hiroyuki arrived at the training grounds, a familiar white-haired boy was already standing in the middle of the field with his arms crossed.
Satoru appeared to be doing his best to look serious.
The effort lasted for approximately three seconds.
"Morning, Nii-san."
"Morning."
Satoru glanced toward the entrance behind him before looking back at Hiroyuki.
"I expected you ten minutes ago."
Hiroyuki paused and looked toward the sky.
Then he looked back at his younger brother.
"Did you?"
"..."
"I never gave you a time."
Satoru's mouth opened, only to close again when he realized that Hiroyuki was right. His expression tightened, though the reaction was more embarrassed than annoyed.
"You still could have come earlier."
"And miss breakfast?"
Hiroyuki shook his head.
"I thought I taught you never to stand between a man and his breakfast."
Satoru stared at him for a moment before releasing a quiet snort, although the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.
Behind Hiroyuki, Senjumaru calmly entered the training grounds as well.
Unlike the previous day, the atmosphere between the three felt much lighter. There were no elders waiting to drag Hiroyuki into another meeting, and no year-long absence hanging over their heads.
For the moment, they could simply enjoy themselves.
Hiroyuki walked toward the center of the field and looked around.
Children and servants had gathered at what they apparently considered a safe distance. Several instructors were also present, though they at least had the decency to pretend that they were there for professional reasons.
Hiroyuki ignored them and turned his attention toward Satoru.
"Before we begin, I don't want to hear afterward that you were holding back for my sake."
Satoru's grin widened.
"I wouldn't insult you like that."
"Good."
Hiroyuki folded his arms.
"Then show me everything you've learned while I was away."
Satoru's eyes visibly brightened.
He had obviously been waiting to hear that.
"If I'm facing you, then I want you to see everything I've learned."
The confidence in his voice came naturally. It wasn't arrogance for the sake of appearing impressive.
Satoru genuinely believed he was ready.
Then he glanced around the training field, and some of the seriousness left his expression.
"Though the servants may not thank us for it."
"Hmm?"
"If this goes the way I expect, cleaning the grounds afterward will be troublesome."
Several servants standing nearby stiffened.
Hiroyuki almost laughed.
Before he could respond, Senjumaru stepped forward.
"You needn't concern yourself with that, Young Master."
Satoru blinked and turned toward her.
Senjumaru brought her hands together, forming a sign.
A faint ripple immediately spread through the air.
The surroundings darkened for a brief moment as the space around the training grounds appeared to fold inward. Then a translucent barrier formed around the entire field.
The scenery outside remained visible, yet the atmosphere within had clearly changed.
Satoru forgot about the spar almost immediately.
His Six Eyes examined the barrier while he stepped closer to its edge.
"This is new."
"I developed it recently," Senjumaru explained.
"You made the entire thing yourself?"
"I contributed to its creation."
Her gaze briefly met Hiroyuki's.
Satoru noticed the exchange but chose to focus on the barrier.
"It feels a little like Simple Domain," he said. "But it isn't being used to interfere with a sure-hit effect."
A slight hint of surprise appeared in Senjumaru's eyes.
"That is correct. It borrows some of the same principles, but its purpose is different."
Satoru's interest immediately deepened.
"How does it work? Is the space inside being separated, or are you redirecting—"
"Basically," Hiroyuki interrupted, "we no longer have to worry too much about destroying the estate."
Both of them turned toward him.
Satoru stared for several seconds.
"You skipped nearly everything important."
"I'm efficient."
"That is not the same thing."
"Efficiently terrible, then."
Satoru exhaled through his nose, caught between annoyance and amusement.
"I still want the proper explanation later."
"Ask Senjumaru."
"I intended to."
Senjumaru quietly looked away, though not before Hiroyuki noticed the faint amusement on her face.
Satoru shook his head before returning his attention to the barrier.
The questions in his eyes hadn't disappeared, but he seemed to understand that if he allowed himself to continue, the spar would turn into an entire lecture on barrier techniques.
That discussion could wait until later.
Hiroyuki stepped toward the center of the field.
Satoru followed.
The remaining conversation around them gradually died down as everyone realized that the two were finally ready to begin.
Hiroyuki stopped several meters away from his younger brother.
Satoru mirrored him.
For a brief moment, neither moved.
The relaxed atmosphere remained, but something sharper began forming beneath it. The air grew heavier as their cursed energy slowly stirred.
Hiroyuki looked at the confident expression on his brother's face and smiled.
"So, shall we start?"
Satoru's grin widened as he lowered his stance, his expression bright with anticipation.
"I've been waiting since yesterday, Nii-san."
The instant those words left his mouth, he vanished.
And Hiroyuki smiled.