The scent of incense hung lightly in the air, barely perceptible but familiar. The tatami mat beneath my knees was cool, the room simple—but thoroughly imbued with meaning. We all sat in a semicircle on flat cushions, as we always did when things got serious.
Ryuji sat to my right, his shoulders straight, his hands resting loosely on his thighs. Maki sat opposite him, calm, almost dignified—she had left her children outside, under the supervision of an employee she had hired so they wouldn't disturb the conversation. Yoshiko sat next to her with her back straight, almost motionless, while Kaito leaned forward slightly, his elbows on his knees. He was silent—but his eyes spoke volumes.
I myself sat in the center, slightly forward. It was no coincidence.
Then the door slid open and he entered.
Our father.
The Oyabun.
Behind him was Kawamura-san, his right-hand man. Silent, observant, always present, never in the way.
Father walked slowly, deliberately, and sat down on the large cushion at the front of the room. No greeting. No smile. No unnecessary words. Only his gaze - alert, razor-sharp - glided over us, lingering briefly on each of us. Then it came to rest on me.
"In less than three days, we will meet the Fushichō-ikka."
His voice was deep, calm, as always. But it left no room for doubt.
"This meeting is not just an exchange. It is the beginning of something bigger. A connection that means more than words."
A pause. No clearing of throats, no murmurs – we all knew that what was coming next would be important.
"Tatsuya."
I looked up. His tone didn't change—but his next sentence cut through me like a blade.
"You will marry the second eldest daughter of the Oyabun of the Fushichō-ikka."
The words echoed for a moment—like thunder hanging silently over the mountains.
I didn't move. But inside, it was as if someone had knocked over a chessboard.
Kaito was the first to stir—his gaze darted to me, then to Father. Ryuji remained silent, but I saw him inhale imperceptibly. Maki frowned, her posture remaining calm, but I saw her fingers interlock. Yoshiko lowered her gaze slightly.
"This is not a suggestion," my father continued. "It has been decided. The daughter is ready. Her father and I have been preparing for this step for a long time."
I exhaled slowly. "So you've decided my life without even consulting me."
"You are the heir," he said simply. "Your duties come before your will."
Kawamura-san nodded quietly and added matter-of-factly:
"She is strong, intelligent, not chosen lightly. This union brings stability. Both internally and externally."
I felt resistance rising within me, hot, urgent—but I held it back. For now. This was not the place to raise my voice.
"And if I refuse?" I asked quietly.
Silence.
Then my father spoke without a second's hesitation:
"Then you are not only opposing me - you are opposing everything we stand for."
Silence. Heavy, like lead. Then, as if to lighten the weight of the moment a little, Father continued—his voice still calm, but insistent:
"You will meet her at the meeting. Her father will introduce her to you there."
No room for objection, no suggestion that this could be discussed.
Kawamura-san, who kept his hands folded calmly, looked briefly at Father, then at me. He spoke with the quiet authority that only someone who had lived close to power for years possessed.
"Her name is Misaki," he said. "Second eldest daughter of the Oyabun of Fushichō-ikka. The public only knows the youngest—Misaki was deliberately kept in the shadows."
He glanced around briefly before continuing:
"She is not only intelligent, but disciplined. Educated, determined—and loyal. She is called Kurohime in certain circles."
Yoshiko slowly raised her eyes, surprised but without a word. Maki seemed to be thinking. Ryuji frowned almost imperceptibly, his gaze now fixed on Kawamura. And Kaito... murmured quietly, "Kurohime...?"
I said nothing. The name was familiar to me. Whispered in certain circles, a shadow among shadows. Not just a daughter—a chess move.
"She's not just part of her family," Kawamura continued calmly. "She's part of the structure. They say she works directly under her father. And she knows the world that connects us—more than one would expect."
Father nodded. "You will meet her. And you will understand why this connection is necessary."
I kept my eyes downcast, but inside, my thoughts circled like birds of prey over a field.
Misaki. Kurohime. Second eldest daughter.
And in three days, I was to meet her—knowing that our life together had long been decided.
A moment of silence hung in the air as Ryūji finally frowned. His voice was calm, but his gaze was sharp and alert.
"With all due respect, Father..." He turned slightly toward Kawamura-san without taking his eyes off the Oyabun. "Why would the Oyabun of the Fushichō-ikka give her to them of all people? If she is so important, as you say, why would he give a daughter who occupies a central place in his organization to the Shinjū-kai...?"
Kawamura didn't even raise an eyebrow. He had expected this question. Perhaps he had asked it himself.
"The eldest daughter is already married. A strategic connection in another direction," he explained with deliberate calm. "And the youngest... is a child. Not yet twelve years old."
He let the words sink in slowly before continuing.
"Misaki... accepted it herself."
A quick glance between him and the Oyabun—an unspoken agreement.
"It wasn't just an order from above. She understands what this connection means. For her family. For us."
Maki slowly shifted her weight. Yoshiko now had both hands firmly clasped in her lap. Kaito looked silently to the side, as if weighing something up.
I said nothing. Not yet.
Kawamura finally looked directly at me.
"You'll see, Tatsuya-san—she's not someone who can be controlled. She's someone who decides for herself when she wants to commit. And this time... she did."
The room fell silent again. But it wasn't an uncomfortable silence—it was one that simmered beneath the surface. Like the quiet rumbling of an approaching thunderstorm.
The Oyabun let Kawamura's words sink in for a moment, then slowly rose to his feet. There was no haste in his movement, but it left no doubt that for him, everything had now been said. Kawamura followed suit – wordless, like a shadow of his master, always one step behind.
"Prepare yourselves," said the Oyabun in a calm, unmistakable voice. His gaze swept over all of us, lingering on me for a breath longer. "The time until the meeting is short. There is no room for error."
Then he turned and walked measuredly to the door, Kawamura following him without another word. The sliding door closed quietly.
Silence remained. No more orders echoed through the room, no explanations. Only the inescapable certainty: the decision had been made. And everything that came next had to conform to that decision.
The door had barely closed when Yoshiko breathed quietly—almost inaudibly, but in the silence of the room it sounded like a thunderclap. Kaito sat motionless, his gaze fixed on the floor. Maki seemed thoughtful but composed—she was a mother, a wife, but also a daughter of this house. Ryuji leaned back, folding his arms behind his head.
"Well... that was clear." His voice sounded dry, almost ironic, but not without gravity. "So you're getting married, Nii-san."
I said nothing.
"And to a Fushichō daughter, of all people," he continued, this time shaking his head slightly. "I wonder what exactly she gets out of it... She's not a pawn on a game board. The woman has status among them, if the rumors are true."
Maki gave him a warning look. "It's not our decision, Ryuji."
"I know," he muttered. "But that she accepted it herself...?" He looked at me. "What do you think, Tatsuya?"
I slowly raised my gaze. My tone was calm but firm.
"If she really agreed, then she must know what she's doing. I'll get to know her myself soon. Then I'll see who she is."
Yoshiko looked at me skeptically. "What if she hates you?"
I smiled slightly.
"Then it'll be interesting."