The moments after Kaito's declaration were not silent. His personal phone, a sleek, encrypted device he pulled from an inner pocket, began to ring. And ring. And ring.
Aiko watched as Kaito became the man he was born to be. He stood in the center of the living room, the city's chaos reflected in the window behind him, and answered the calls, one by one. He was no longer just a warrior; he was a statesman, a diplomat, and a king holding court.
"Sumiyoshi-san," he said into the phone, his voice formal and cold. "Yes, I am aware of the disruption. Disruption was the goal... No. The Ishikawa-gumi did not break the treaty. We are enforcing it. The Kageyama broke it. The evidence is now public. What you do with that information is your own concern." He listened for a moment. "As am I. Good evening." He hung up.
The phone immediately rang again.
"Inagawa-san... I see you received my message... Your neutrality is noted, and appreciated... Of course."
It went on like this for nearly an hour. Call after call from the heads of the other clans. Some were furious at him for breaking the code of silence. Others were cautiously supportive. Kaito navigated each conversation with a terrifying, icy calm. He wasn't asking for permission or forgiveness. He was informing them of the new state of the world.
Through it all, Aiko moved quietly in the background. She saw the deep, weary lines around his eyes. She saw how his shoulders were rigid with tension. He was running on pure adrenaline. She went to the kitchen, brewed a fresh pot of strong, dark tea, and placed a cup on the table beside him without a word. He gave her a brief, grateful glance, a small moment of shared humanity in the middle of a political firestorm. He was commanding a war; she was making sure the commander didn't collapse.
Then, Kenji's voice came through the comms in Kaito's earpiece. "Sama. They're panicking. Their known fronts are shutting down. Their allies are denying any connection. They are isolated."
"And Ryo?" Kaito asked, his voice hardening.
"No word," Kenji replied grimly.
As if summoned, Kaito's phone rang with a number he seemed to recognize. He answered, but this time, he put it on speaker.
"...a reckless, dishonorable move, Ishikawa," a gravelly voice snarled from the phone. "You have disgraced us all."
"You disgrace yourself, Kageyama," Kaito replied calmly. "The only thing I did was turn on the lights so everyone could see the rats in your cellar."
"Enough games," the voice growled. "You have my treasurer's private ledgers. I have your man. A simple exchange. Return what is mine, and I will return your loyal dog, Ryo. Stop this madness now."
This was it. The offer. The honorable way out. Aiko held her breath.
Kaito laughed. It was not a pleasant sound. It was cold and sharp and full of contempt.
"You seem to think we are equals, Kageyama," Kaito said. "That this is a negotiation. You are mistaken."
"What are you saying, boy?"
"There is no exchange," Kaito stated, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper. "There is only your surrender. Return my man, unharmed, within the next twelve hours. Hand over every member of your clan involved in the trafficking ring, starting with Fumi. Do this, and I will permit the Kageyama name to continue to exist, as a cautionary tale. Refuse... and I will personally erase it from the history of this city."
He hung up, plunging the room into a ringing silence.
Aiko stared at him, horrified and amazed. "You... you refused? What about Ryo? You can't just leave him there!"
Kaito turned to her, and the cold fire in his eyes was blazing. He walked over to the laptop and with a few keystrokes, pulled up a new file: a live video feed from a high-powered drone, hovering invisibly over a remote warehouse by the docks. The image showed the black car that had ambushed Kenji. It showed Kageyama's men moving in and out. It was where they were holding Ryo.
"They think Ryo is the only piece I have in play," Kaito said, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "They think they can bargain with his life."
He zoomed the camera in, right on the roof of the warehouse. Aiko saw nothing but vents and gravel.
"You taught me to see what others miss, Aiko," he murmured. He pointed to a small, insignificant-looking ventilation fan. "Tell me what you see."
Aiko squinted at the screen. The fan was spinning, but there was something wrong with its shadow. It was too sharp, and it... twitched. It wasn't a shadow. It was a small, dark creature, huddled and almost invisible. A yokai.
"What is that?" she whispered.
A small, triumphant, and utterly ruthless smile touched Kaito's lips.
"That," he said, "is Ryo's partner. And he's been waiting for the lights to go out."