Mikey could almost feel the temperature inside the room drop as his dark eyes remained locked on Cavendish, the faint smile on the younger man's face doing little to soften the weight behind his words.
"I have never said this before, but the longer I have spent in this country, the more I have learned about your past, and I can only conclude that the moniker was rather fitting, especially given the reputation you built for yourself," Cavendish continued. "Where I come from, hooliganism was considerably less organised, mostly foolish children engaging in equally foolish endeavours without much structure beyond whoever happened to shout the loudest."
He paused briefly, studying Mikey's expression. "Which is precisely why I find the history of Japan's delinquent culture so fascinating."
He tilted his head slightly as Mikey remained stoic. "The Tokyo Manji Gang, or Toman, as it came to be known, was particularly interesting. A bōsōzoku gang, if you will forgive me in case I have butchered the pronunciation, that managed to stand at the very pinnacle of Japan's delinquent underworld and, at its height, commanded hundreds of members before its eventual disbandment."
Cavendish shifted his gaze toward Draken, who met him with the same unreadable expression. "Although, calling it a dissolution would not be entirely accurate, would it? It was more of an evolution, perhaps even a metamorphosis." His attention returned to Mikey. "Under the Tojo Clan, what remained was reborn as the Manji Family, and from there you rose from patriarch to the Ninth Chairman of the Tojo Clan itself."
A faint smile touched Cavendish's lips. "I believe many within the yakuza still refer to your tenure as the Golden Age of the Clan, and from what I have learned, it is not difficult to understand why." He released a quiet breath. "Still, as the saying goes, all good things must eventually come to an end."
Takao's expression darkened at that, though she remained silent.
"Madam Takao has long since taken the throne you vacated, Mister Sano, but your legacy did not disappear with your retirement," Cavendish continued, inclining his head in another respectful bow. "Your name still carries weight, and from what I have gathered, it commands just as much respect as it does fear."
Mikey grinned and waved one hand dismissively. "Oya, oya, please, Cavendish-chin, you're laying it on a little too thick," he said with an easy chuckle. "That name belongs to somebody I was a lifetime ago. These days, I'm just an old man who likes dorayaki, good tea, and spending way too much time binge-watching his favorite TV dramas."
His expression brightened almost instantly as he turned toward Draken. "Speaking of which, ne, ne, Ken-chin, have you seen the latest episode of Sounds of Winter?" he asked, his demeanor becoming almost childlike as he leaned toward him with obvious enthusiasm. "If you haven't, maybe we can watch it together later, because the ending of the last episode was—"
"Anata," Takao interrupted, gentle but firm as her golden eyes shifted toward him.
Mikey went rigid at once, and whatever playful momentum had been carrying him faded as he slowly looked back at her. Takao's expression softened, though there was still enough authority in it to make clear that the discussion was over. "There will be plenty of time to catch up on your dramas later," she said, patting the cushion beside the table to her right. "Come sit down. I'll have them bring in some dorayaki for you."
"Haiii," Mikey replied, drawing the word out as he rolled his eyes with the exaggerated resignation of a child being told to behave. He lowered himself onto the cushion beside her and crossed his arms over his chest. "But they'd better be from my favorite shop."
"For the love of God," Draken muttered as he removed his sunglasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "We're both pushing sixty, Mikey. At least try to act your age once in a while. I mean, it was cute when we were kids, but now it's just—"
"Speak for yourself, Ken-chin," Mikey cut in with a bright grin, completely unfazed by the criticism. "Besides, you're only as old as you let yourself feel." He drew in a slow breath and let it out with exaggerated satisfaction before thumbing toward his chest. "Me? I'm eternally fifteen."
Cavendish rolled his eyes at the exchange before returning to his seat and smoothing the front of his jacket. "Now that we have all officially convened, I suppose there is little reason to prolong matters unnecessarily," he said, his expression hardening as he turned his attention toward Mikey. "In your absence, Mr. Sano, we discussed what transpired last night, and while the outcome was certainly regrettable, the measures taken were deemed necessary under the circumstances."
His gaze then shifted toward Takao. "I also bring word from the Board, and more specifically from my Master, who felt that after such an unfortunate disturbance, it was only proper that I meet with you personally, Madam."
"I appreciate the transparency, Cavendish-san, both from you and from the Chairman and the Board," Takao replied, her hands resting neatly in her lap. "I also accept your apologies on behalf of the Tojo Clan and the High Table."
Her expression darkened slightly as she continued, though her composure never slipped. "However, as you yourself have said, the MRA does not tolerate disregard for rules or consequences, and neither does the Table. We have never interfered with your operations, nor have we ever sought to dictate how the Association conducts its affairs, but there are boundaries that none of us are permitted to cross, and they exist for very good reasons."
Mikey and Draken both fell quiet, their expressions growing more serious as Takao continued.
"Tokyo has always been volatile beneath the surface, even if society prefers to imagine that everything can be divided neatly into black and white. In truth, the very thing holding this city together has always existed somewhere in between, within those uncomfortable shades of gray where law, influence, obligation, and survival overlap." Her golden eyes narrowed slightly. "Do you understand what I mean, Cavendish-san?"
A faint twitch passed through Cavendish's eyebrow, but he remained silent.
"It is within those shades of gray that we have built a mutual understanding between those who operate in the light and those who operate in the dark," Takao continued. "Time and again, history has shown us that neither side functions entirely without the other, no matter how much either may wish to believe otherwise."
She tilted her head slightly, one ear twitching. "There is an old Japanese proverb that says, to light a candle is to cast a shadow, and I have always found that rather fitting. The law, the administration, and those responsible for keeping the machinery of this nation turning operate where everyone can see them, while people like us work in places where they cannot. Each side has a role to play, and so long as the turmoil within our respective worlds remains contained there, none of us has reason to interfere."
Takao drew in a slow breath before continuing, her hand still resting calmly in her lap. "The problem begins when that understanding is ignored, disrespected, or taken for granted, because once our worlds begin colliding, matters rarely remain civil for long." She lifted her chin slightly as her gaze settled firmly on Cavendish.
"So, allow me to make this very clear. The High Table will not interfere in the internal affairs of the MRA, and we will not insert ourselves into disputes that belong to the Association. We will also respect whatever measures the Board considers necessary when making a point, but what we will not respect, and what we will absolutely not tolerate, is allowing those measures to escalate into open warfare, particularly not with the Japanese government."
Cavendish remained still as he listened. His expression unreadable.
"I know more than you may realize about the history your Master has with the URA, and more specifically about the resentment he still carries," Takao continued. "I understand that kind of grievance better than most, and I would be the last person in this room to dismiss it outright, but there is a time for settling old debts and there is a time for protecting business."
Her expression hardened further as the warmth disappeared from her eyes. "I have spent the better part of the last decade building the Tojo Group into what it is today, restoring its legitimacy, expanding its influence, and ensuring that what we created could survive without dragging the entire Clan back into the darkness it came from."
Takao's gaze never left Cavendish as she finished. "I will not allow that work to be jeopardized, stained, or even remotely associated with a war the Tojo Group did not start and has no intention of fighting." Her words were calm, but the warning beneath it was unmistakable. "Am I understood?"
"In its entirety, Madam," Cavendish replied with a measured nod. "Although, if you would permit me one question, I would also value your counsel on the matter." He held Takao's gaze for a moment before continuing. "If the government were to escalate matters further without any direct provocation from the Association, how would you expect the Association to respond?"
"And why," Draken asked, his tone sharpening, "would the government decide to turn up the heat if nobody gave them a reason to?"
Cavendish shifted his attention toward him. "Conceit, self-interest, perhaps an unrestrained sense of righteous purpose; there are any number of reasons, Mister Draken," he said. "After all, would you not consider the creation and deployment of C.H.A.S.E. an escalation in itself?"
Draken's gaze hardened at the implication, but Cavendish continued before he could answer.
"I have little doubt that a woman of your intellect, Madam, has already considered the direction in which this city is moving," Cavendish said, looking back toward Takao. "Our beloved Governor has grown rather comfortable in his own importance, convinced that the office he has clung to so stubbornly will remain his until his health finally gives out before his career does." His expression darkened slightly. "The polls, however, suggest otherwise. He is slipping behind his challenger, and I suspect the public has simply grown tired of watching him explain away one failure after another."
Cavendish tilted his head. "And as the saying goes, a desperate man is often an irrational one. When power begins to slip from someone's grasp, they have a habit of reaching for whatever they believe might save them, even if doing so only makes matters worse."
Mikey raised an eyebrow, though he remained silent, while Cavendish continued without losing his composure. "Our sources have also indicated that Governor Omura and Chief Ando are hardly on the best of terms, assuming they ever were to begin with. At present, public opinion appears to favor the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, while much of the blame for last night's disaster is settling squarely on Omura. If that division continues to widen, I have no doubt Ando will recognize the opportunity in front of him and use it to his advantage."
The sliding door opened before anyone could respond, and one of the servants stepped quietly into the room carrying a plate of dorayaki. She placed it carefully on the table, bowed, and retreated the same way she had entered, closing the door softly behind her.
Mikey's eyes lit up the moment he saw the plate. "Oh, what do you know, they are from my favorite store!" he said, turning toward Takao with a bright smile. "You really do know me too well."
Takao lifted one hand toward her mouth to hide a laugh while Draken rolled his eyes, and Mikey immediately reached for one of the dorayaki and tossed it into his mouth.
"So," Mikey said through the first few bites, "what you're saying is that tub of lard is gonna start losing his mind once he realizes he can't yank on the leash around his loyal dog's neck anymore?"
"Anata," Takao said. "Chew, swallow, then talk."
Mikey stopped, gave her a flat look, then rolled his eyes with a sigh before doing exactly as he was told. Once he swallowed, he sucked the filling from his fingers one by one and looked back toward Cavendish. "Right, I get that part. What I don't get is where the escalation comes in, and what Ando really gains by showing Omura up beyond the satisfaction of rubbing it in his face." A small grin tugged at his mouth. "Not that I wouldn't understand the appeal."
"Among other things, Mister Sano," Cavendish replied. "Omura will ultimately become little more than another obstacle to be removed, like a piece of lint from one's coat or a bottle cap in the road. The larger issue is what comes afterward, because you know as well as I do that absolute power has a tendency to corrupt absolutely," he said. "Once Ando gains the upper hand, he will have every reason to chase the praise of this city, and eventually, perhaps, the admiration of the country as well. A man of his ilk is rarely content with his current station, and I would wager he already has his eyes on something considerably higher."
"Who doesn't?" Draken said. "I knew the first time I laid eyes on him that he wasn't the kind of man who'd stop until he was standing at the very top."
"And in that sort of blind ambition, Mister Draken, he will seek an advantage wherever he can find one," Cavendish replied before lifting his teacup and taking a measured sip. "So, I will allow you to guess exactly what advantage I am referring to."
"Captain Lightning and C.H.A.S.E.," Mikey said as he reached for another dorayaki and shoved it into his mouth. He opened his lips to continue, caught Takao staring at him, then sighed, chewed properly, and swallowed before trying again. "He'd expect her to take it to the next level."
"Precisely," Cavendish said. "The Association has become extremely familiar with the Captain over the years, and I will admit that her determination is so profound that one cannot help but admire it. She has hunted us across major cities and across continents, but her greatest limitation has always been the same."
He paused. "Local authorities have never been willing to back her and her team in full. Too many cities still regard the Association as an inconvenience rather than an actual threat, which means she is constantly forced to operate with one hand tied behind her back."
He raised one finger as his eyes settled on the three of them. "Now imagine, if you will, a city that did not."
Takao, Mikey, and Draken all went still as the implication settled in.
"That is precisely the problem," Cavendish continued. "If Ando decides to go all in and the Diet chooses to follow, C.H.A.S.E. could eventually become far more powerful than any of us presently imagine. With the right authority, the right funding, and the full weight of the state behind them, they would no longer be a specialized enforcement unit chasing racers through the dark."
Cavendish set his cup down and tapped one finger lightly against the table. "Although, I suppose history has already given the Tojo Clan, the High Table, and the Association a rather useful preview of what that future might look like." His gaze sharpened. "The Great Japanese Dissolution of Delinquency."
"Bullshit," Draken cut in, his expression hardening. "Ando's as filthy and ambitious as any disgusting would-be politician, that much I'll give you, but there's no way they're gonna throw Japan back into another Three-Year War over the MRA. That would be complete insanity."
"You sure about that, Ken-chin?" Mikey asked, turning his gaze toward him as the lightness from earlier faded from his face. "I don't like it any more than you do, but Cavendish-chin has a point. That's where the real escalation starts, because the moment they decide to go after the MRA the same way G.A.R.O. went after the gangs, nobody's gonna know where that line ends anymore."
"Indeed," Cavendish said, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, a detail Takao noticed immediately as her expression hardened. "Which brings me back to my original question, Madam. How, precisely, do you expect the Association to respond when that moment comes? Do we fire a warning shot across the bow and hope they understand the message, or do we simply roll over and accept whatever comes next?"
He raised his chin slightly, his composure remaining perfectly intact even as something colder settled behind his eyes. "You know as well as I do that hesitation is often mistaken for weakness, pardons are interpreted as surrender, and forgiveness is far too often taken as permission to try again. History has shown us repeatedly that those in authority rarely settle for merely defeating an enemy when total destruction offers them greater political value, especially when personal ambition is involved."
Cavendish's gaze hardened as he continued, the elegance in his manner doing little to soften the meaning behind his words. "And as much as the Board and I would prefer to avoid measures that might be considered excessive, or even brutal, there are moments when restraint ceases to be a virtue and becomes an invitation."
A cold glint entered his eyes as he looked from Takao to Draken. "I have learned over the years that the most effective deterrent is often written in brutality so absolute that no one can misunderstand the cost of crossing that line. When people are forced to see cruelty laid bare in front of them, horrifying enough that they begin weighing their oaths against their own survival, suddenly conviction becomes far less certain."
His gaze settled on Draken whose jaw tightened under the weight of it.
"After all," Cavendish said quietly, "it is only when people remember how frightening the dark can truly be that they become so desperate to remain in the light."
The silence lingered as the three of them sat in contemplation, each weighing the implications of what had just been said. Takao's gaze dropped toward the teacup sitting forgotten before her, the amber liquid inside long since gone cold, while one ear twitched and her tail flicked once behind her before she finally raised her eyes to Cavendish.
"If, and I want to make this absolutely clear, this remains only an if, the law, the Diet, and those in power ever threaten our very way of life, then the circumstances change," Takao said, her expression hardening. "If they knowingly disregard the lines that have existed since the founding of this nation, if they openly defy the rules and consequences that bind all of us, and if they choose to make a mockery of every attempt to correct their course, then and only then will the Tojo Clan, and the High Table itself, enter the fray."
Cavendish's expression eased ever so slightly, not into a smirk or a grin, but enough that Mikey caught the faint change in his eyes and knew immediately that this was the answer he had been waiting for.
"Furthermore, the Association has every right to defend itself, provided it remains within the confines of the rules that govern all of us," Takao continued. "If consequences must be delivered, then the Association may deliver them in whatever manner it deems appropriate, so long as those actions do not violate the structure that keeps all of this from collapsing into chaos."
She paused, her gaze sharpening. "But make no mistake, Cavendish-san, the Association may sit adjacent to the Table, but I sincerely hope the Board never grows arrogant enough to believe that it sits above it. You may take that message back to your Master."
"Of course, Madam," Cavendish replied, inclining his head with practiced respect. "My Master would never dream of placing himself in such a position." He bowed slightly deeper before adding, "After all, we will serve, and we will be of service."
Mikey scoffed audibly at the phrase, drawing a hard look from Draken, but he made no attempt to hide his irritation. Of all the things he had come to dislike about the High Table over the years, the endless bureaucracy and centuries-old rituals remained near the top of the list, and even during his time as Ninth Chairman, those traditions had never sat comfortably with him.
"Well, it seems I have already taken up far more of your morning than I intended," Cavendish said as he rose smoothly to his feet, lifting one hand when Takao, Mikey, and Draken began to do the same. "Please, not on my account. The morning has already been sufficiently grating without the three of you having to stand on ceremony for me, and I know the way out well enough."
He straightened the front of his tuxedo with a practiced tug before allowing his gaze to settle on Takao. "There is, however, one final matter before I leave. Madam Takao, I would like to extend an invitation to you personally." His attention then shifted toward Mikey. "And to you as well, Mister Sano. My Master intends to host a gala in the near future, something of a homecoming, if you will, and he would consider it an honour to have both of you in attendance."
Cavendish inclined his head slightly, his hands folding behind his back as though the next part were merely an afterthought. "Naturally, the invitation also extends to your granddaughter, Miss Hachimitsu Melody."
The change around the table was immediate, with all three expressions tightening at once as Cavendish continued without appearing to notice, or perhaps simply choosing not to acknowledge it.
"My Master follows Japanese racing rather closely, and he was particularly impressed by Miss Melody's victory in the Shūka Shō," Cavendish said. "Given her rather…" He paused for the briefest moment, his eyes sharpening almost imperceptibly. "Exceptional parentage, I suppose that should hardly come as a surprise. The daughter of the legendary Kadokawa Hornet is bound to attract a certain degree of attention."
Draken had already begun to rise, tension gathering through his shoulders, but Takao's hand settled firmly against his thigh beneath the table before he could move any farther. He glanced toward her, saw the warning in her eyes, and slowly eased himself back down.
"We will have to consider it," Takao replied, drawing a faint smile across her face that never quite reached her eyes. "My granddaughter is still recovering from her race, not only from the physical toll but from everything that came afterward as well. I am sure you understand how exhausting the media can become once they decide someone belongs to them."
"Of course," Cavendish said with an understanding nod as he placed one gloved hand over his chest and bowed. "I would expect nothing less than careful consideration, Madam, and there is certainly no need for an immediate answer."
He straightened once more and allowed his gaze to move across the three of them. "For now, I suppose this is farewell, although I suspect we shall be speaking again sooner rather than later." His attention settled on each of them in turn. "Madam Takao, Mister Sano…"
Then his eyes came to rest on Draken, and although his expression remained perfectly composed, there was a faint glint behind them that did not escape anyone at the table.
"Mister Draken."
With that, Cavendish turned toward the far end of the room, slid the door open, and stepped into the corridor beyond before closing it quietly behind him.
****
"Bastard," Draken spat the moment Cavendish was far enough down the corridor to be out of earshot. "Never liked him, not from the first time I laid eyes on him, and nothing he said today changed my mind."
"Ma, ma, Ken-chin," Mikey said with a playful smile as he waved one hand dismissively. "Like you said, we're not kids anymore, so maybe try not to blow a gasket over every smug bastard who walks through the door." He reached for another dorayaki and popped it into his mouth. "Besides, you really oughta watch your blood pressure."
"And you oughta watch your sugar intake," Draken replied as he adjusted his sunglasses, then turned his attention toward Takao. "That aside, Takao-sama, you and I both know this wasn't just some polite little formality. That was a warning shot, wrapped up in good manners and expensive tea."
"Indeed," Takao said, her expression turning thoughtful. "And I'm afraid he maneuvered all of us into answering exactly the question he came here to ask. That was not merely a request for permission, it was the Board delivering a verbal memorandum to the Table, making it clear that this is how matters will be conducted from this point forward, and that our ability to restrain them is becoming increasingly limited."
"You don't seriously think the Association is foolish enough to take on the Table, do you?" Draken asked.
"Foolish?" Mikey interrupted, drawing both of their gazes toward him as he sucked the filling from his fingers and rested his head against one hand propped on his knee. "No, I don't think they're foolish at all. Calculated, though? Absolutely."
He waved his free hand lazily. "The Table can keep pretending it still sits on the highest throne, but the Association has grown way beyond what even the Twelve Chairs could comfortably handle together. The MRA alone accounts for around seventy percent of the Table's revenue, and that's before you start counting how many guns, crews, and connections they've got spread across the world."
Mikey sighed and straightened, his expression losing some of its earlier playfulness. "The only reason the Board and the Chairman haven't made a move against the Table is because they still need the status quo. It's easier to control an existing system than it is to burn the whole thing down and build a new one from scratch, especially when there are plenty of people waiting outside the gates for a chance to force their way back in."
He leaned back with a sharp exhale, bracing himself on both hands as he tipped his head toward the ceiling and groaned. "Mattaku, I've been saying it for years, even back when I had a seat at that damned Table," Mikey said. "Half of them are arrogant pricks with their heads so far up their own asses that they forgot power doesn't mean anything if you stop growing. They got comfortable, stopped expanding, stopped building, stopped paying attention to how fast the world was changing, and then the Association came along promising money, influence, and everything else they wanted to hear."
He lowered his head again, the smile fading from his face. "They jumped in without even bothering to read the fine print, and now here we are."
"I don't disagree with you, Anata," Takao said with a faint smile, though her expression hardened soon after. "That being said, the High Table cannot afford to show weakness, not even for a moment, because once the perception of control is lost, everyone beneath it begins wondering whether the structure itself can still hold."
She closed her eyes briefly before continuing. "It is something I intend to address at the next Convergence, assuming Santino can remain civil long enough for us to get through the meeting without turning it into another circus."
Draken scoffed as he adjusted his posture. "It's bad enough having the Association breathing down our necks, and now we've got the damned Table trying to tear itself apart from the inside." His jaw tightened as the irritation settled deeper. "And Santino's only making it worse. The Camorras have been gathering allies for years, and if he keeps building support at this rate, he'll have enough influence to force a vote and try to crown himself head of the Table."
"I wouldn't lose sleep over that yet, Ken-chin," Mikey said with an easy smile. "Most of the Table still leans our way, and I'm on good terms with Uncle Po and the Director of the Ruska Roma." He tapped one finger against his knee as something occurred to him. "Actually, it's been a while since I talked to her." His grin returned. "I should probably drop her a message before she decides I forgot she exists."
Draken exhaled and shifted his attention back toward Takao. "Takao-sama, the Table may still favor us for now, but one of the strongest organizations under it is still sitting on the fence." Takao met his gaze as he continued. "Pak Rama has made it clear that the Rakyat wants nothing to do with Table politics, and not even Santino has managed to drag him into the dispute. Under normal circumstances, I'd leave that alone, but with everything we know now, I think we need to at least consider another option."
Mikey's eyes widened as he looked between them. "Ken-chin, you don't mean…"
Draken nodded slowly. "Pak Lokan, their new Chief of War. Pak Rama may lead the organization, but Lokan carries enough weight to influence him, and if we could get Lokan on our side, he might be able to bring the Rakyat with him. If that happens, we don't just gain another vote, we gain an entire organization capable of shifting the balance in our favor."
"No," Takao said, cutting him off immediately.
Draken's expression tightened, but he tried again. "Takao-sama, I understand why you're saying that. I know what happened, and I know what it means to you, but given what we're facing, I'm asking you to at least consider—"
"I said no, Draken," Takao repeated, her golden eyes hardening enough to make him stop. She lowered her gaze toward the untouched tea before her, watching her reflection ripple faintly across the cold amber surface. "I know exactly who he is, what he chose to become, and why he believed he had to turn himself into that man." Her expression softened as she raised her eyes again. "But he and I made an agreement, and he has not broken it, not once."
Takao's voice grew quieter, though no less certain. "As long as he continues to honor that agreement, then I will honor it too, because that promise was never just about him and me." Her gaze lowered for a moment before settling firmly on Draken again. "It was for my daughter, for everything she is and was, and most of all, for Melody."
Draken sighed and gave a slow nod. "Very well, Takao-sama. I respect your decision," he said, though the hardness in his gaze remained. "I can only hope everyone else has enough sense to do the same."
"You mean Dojima-san?" Takao asked, a faint smirk pulling at her lips. "You can leave that pig in human clothing to me." She lifted a hand toward her mouth as a soft chuckle escaped her. "I daresay he's still sore about the fact that I turned him down all those years ago."
"Tell me about it," Mikey said with a wide grin. "Honestly, you'd think Kuze-chin, Shi-chin, and Wano-chin would've learned how to loosen up by now. They took everything way too seriously back then, and somehow they're still the exact same hardasses all these years later." He sighed and shook his head. "So-chin included."
"Regardless, you may leave them to me, Takao-sama," Draken said. "I will not tolerate insubordination, and I certainly will not tolerate even the slightest hint of disloyalty from anyone under this roof."
"Ma, ma, Ken-chin, like I said, you really need to watch your—" Mikey stopped when a soft thud sounded from beyond the sliding door, his dark eyes shifting over his shoulder as they narrowed slightly.
"Something wrong?" Takao asked.
Mikey listened for another moment before shaking his head and offering a small smile. "Nothing, probably just hearing things." The smile faded as his expression turned more thoughtful, and when he looked back toward Takao and Draken, there was a seriousness in his face that had not been there a moment earlier. "I've been thinking about something, Takao. Melody's thirteen now, and whether we like it or not, she's starting to ask more questions. About us, about all of this…" He gestured loosely around the room. "And most of all, about her father."
Takao's expression went slack, while Draken's hardened almost immediately.
"She's growing up," Mikey continued. "We can keep trying to protect her from it, but I don't know how much longer we can keep the wool over her eyes before she starts putting the pieces together on her own."
He exhaled softly. "And the truth is, I'm not worried about whether she finds out, because sooner or later she will. I'm worried about what happens when she realizes the people she loves have been lying to her for most of her life."
Draken closed his eyes as he removed his sunglasses and set them carefully on the table. "Mikey's right," he said, turning his gaze toward Takao. "Keeping this from her has never sat well with me, even back then. Between the three of us, that girl has never lacked for love, and everything we've done was because we wanted her safe and happy."
His expression tightened as he continued. "She was a child before, and that was the only excuse I could accept, but she isn't anymore. She deserves to know what happened, who we are, and everything we've kept from her."
Takao closed her eyes and gave a slow nod. "You're right, both of you," she admitted, but before either man could respond. "Just not now."
"Come on, Takao, you don't seriously mean—" Mikey started, only for the sharp look she gave him to stop the rest of the sentence in his throat.
"Make no mistake, I love you, I love Melody, and I agree that the truth has to come out eventually," Takao said, her gaze remaining steady. "Where we disagree is on when that should happen. I have always known that one day my granddaughter would grow into a woman who would no longer accept the little fantasy we built around her, and I have spent years preparing myself for that moment because I knew it would come whether I wanted it to or not."
Her expression hardened slightly. "But Melody is still at the beginning of her racing career. She has races ahead of her, victories she has yet to earn, and an entire future that is only now beginning to open in front of her. I cannot, in good conscience, place something this heavy on her shoulders while she is still trying to find her footing."
Her expression softened as she looked toward Mikey. "You understand what I mean, don't you, Anata?"
Mikey's face went slack for a moment before he glanced toward Draken, only to find his old friend looking away. He released a slow sigh. "Alright, okay. If that's what you want, then I'm with you." His gaze settled on Takao again. "Which brings us to the other problem, and that's you-know-who."
Takao gave a small shrug, though the hesitation in her expression betrayed how much the subject weighed on her. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there," she said before looking toward Draken. "Until then, are we in agreement?"
Draken's gaze hardened, making it clear that he still disliked the decision, but after a long moment he nodded. "I don't agree with waiting, but like every decision you've made, I'll respect it."
"Good," Takao replied, allowing some of the tension to leave her shoulders. "Then for now, let us focus on Clan matters, because we still have plenty to address before the meeting later."
"I don't suppose Umemiya-san will be attending?" Draken asked as he reached for his sunglasses again.
Takao shook her head. "He has other matters to tend to, especially with the turmoil that has gripped Tokyo after last night." One ear twitched slightly as her expression turned thoughtful. "I believe the Tojo Group can play a part in calming things before the situation deteriorates any further."
Mikey let out an amused chuckle. "Mattaku, Ume-chin really has come a long way, hasn't he? I still remember when he was just some brat fresh outta high school trying to prove he could carry the whole world on his shoulders." He turned toward Takao with a warm smile. "Maybe we should start talking about handing the reins over to him someday, and then you and I can finally take that vacation we've been putting off for half our lives."
Takao chuckled softly and shook her head. "Anata, you really are such a tease." Her expression softened as she released a wistful sigh. "Maybe someday, but these old bones still have plenty of life left in them."
Mikey reached across the table and gently took her hand in his. "That, I never doubted for a second."
****
Beyond the sliding door, Melody stood with her back pressed against the wall, completely petrified. Her crimson eyes were wide, every trace of color drained from her face as the conversation she had just overheard replayed in fragments through her mind. None of it made any real sense to her. The High Table, the Tojo Clan, the Board, the strange coded language her grandparents and Uncle Draken had used, every unfamiliar term circled inside her head like debris caught in a storm. The only thing she had recognized with any certainty was the Association, and if her instincts were right, they had been talking about the Midnight Run Association.
That realization only made everything worse.
Melody knew almost nothing about what her family actually did beyond the public version she had grown up with. As far as she understood, they ran one of the largest conglomerates in Japan, with businesses spread across the world and interests in almost every major industry imaginable. The Tojo Group sponsored the URA, supported Tokyo Tracen, and carried a reputation that was polished, legitimate, and respected. None of that fit with what she had just heard, and the idea that someone connected to the MRA could sit comfortably in her family home and speak openly with her grandparents made her stomach twist.
Even so, that was not the part that unsettled her most.
What stayed with her was what her grandfather had said about a secret, something they had been keeping from her for years, something her grandmother had confirmed and Uncle Draken had clearly known about all along. Melody felt a tremor move through her body at the thought, and the more she tried to make sense of it, the more a bitter sense of betrayal began to take root. She shook her head as if she could physically dislodge the feeling, desperate to convince herself that she had misunderstood.
Maybe it was something harmless. Maybe they were planning a celebration, or a trip overseas, or some elaborate surprise they did not want her discovering too soon. She wanted to believe that, but the explanation felt thinner with every passing second, especially when weighed against the tension in their voices and the names they had spoken so carefully.
What was the High Table? Why was her family tied to the MRA? What exactly were they hiding from her?
And most of all, who was her grandmother really, beyond the loving uma who had raised her, cared for her, and shaped so much of the life Melody thought she understood?
The questions came faster than she could answer them, and rather than risk being discovered, Melody pushed herself away from the wall and hurried down the corridor toward her room, forcing her steps to stay quiet while hoping no one inside had noticed she had been there at all.
****
The front steps of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department erupted beneath a storm of camera flashes as the barriers were opened and reporters from nearly every major news station and media division in Tokyo surged toward the podium. Officers struggled to hold the line as men, women, and umas pressed against the barricades, raising microphones and shouting questions over one another in an effort to get closer to Superintendent General Ando, who had already spent the better part of an hour addressing the events of the previous night. Red and Lightning stood several paces behind him, positioned side by side as the crowd continued to churn below.
For Lightning, the spectacle had become almost routine. She had stood before packed press pools more times than she cared to remember, endured microphones shoved toward her face, and answered enough hard questions that the entire performance had become second nature. Even so, her sapphire eyes continued searching through the sea of reporters, half expecting her favorite journalist to appear somewhere among them, but to her surprise, he was nowhere to be seen.
Red had warned her before the conference began that he might show, and Lightning had spent the first several minutes bracing herself for it. Her ears twitched as her tail flicked once behind her, and although bruises still marked her face and several bandages covered the worst of the cuts and scrapes, a part of her remained quietly grateful that this was all she had returned with.
The questions directed at Ando had been predictable so far, the usual demands for who, what, where, when, and why that every reporter carried like a checklist in the back of their mind. To Lightning's surprise, Ando handled them with the same controlled professionalism he brought into every room, never raising his voice, never allowing anger to leak through, and never giving the press enough of an opening to corner him despite several obvious attempts.
Lightning might have disliked the man, though perhaps not as intensely as Red did, but even she could admit that he knew how to control a press conference. Red, on the other hand, wore the same disgruntled expression he had carried from the moment they arrived, because to him, Ando was simply another ambitious political animal with polished manners and carefully chosen words, and the only thing that made him worse was how well he played the game.
"Chief Ando," one of the reporters called out, "is it true that the MRA was responsible for the destruction during last night's disaster, and can you confirm that the Tokyo Metropolitan Police suffered significant casualties?"
Ando adjusted his glasses before answering. "Unfortunately, I cannot comment on every detail while the investigation remains ongoing, however, as I stated earlier, the criminal organization known as the Midnight Run Association was directly responsible for the attacks carried out against law enforcement personnel last night."
His expression remained composed as he looked across the crowd. "What makes this incident especially significant is the scale of their retaliation. The Association has never responded to law enforcement with this level of force before, which tells us that they intended not only to resist, but to send a message that they believe themselves beyond the authority of this city."
The reporters immediately began speaking over one another, but Ando raised a hand and continued before the noise could swallow him. "Let me be equally clear in return. They are not the law. We are, and through the actions of Tokyo's officers and first responders, we contained the threat before the situation could deteriorate any further." He paused for a moment before adding, "That response came at a heavy cost, and the men and women who stood their ground last night deserve the gratitude of this entire city."
He shifted slightly at the podium before continuing. "Furthermore, last night marked the first large-scale deployment of Tokyo's Special Pursuit Unit, better known as C.H.A.S.E., and despite the violence that followed, I would consider the operation a success."
Red and Lightning exchanged a brief look, both of them grimacing almost imperceptibly as the words settled over them, while Lightning felt her stomach tighten.
"We arrested dozens of spectators, racers, and individuals connected to the Association, and in doing so, we delivered a message that should be understood by every street racer operating in Tokyo," Ando said. "The free ride is over, and those who choose to break the law will be held responsible for their actions. C.H.A.S.E. exists for that purpose, and from this point forward, they will be the consequence waiting at the end of that choice."
His gaze then shifted toward Lightning. "Captain Lightning."
Her expression went momentarily slack as every camera seemed to turn toward her at once.
"Would you kindly?" Ando asked, stepping away from the podium and gesturing for her to take his place.
Lightning gave a small shrug, her tail flicking once behind her as she stepped up to the podium and leaned closer to the cluster of microphones. "As most of you already know, my name is Captain Wild Lightning, and I currently serve as the head of C.H.A.S.E.," she began, her gaze moving across the crowd. "And as Chief Ando just explained, my team and I successfully completed our first major operation here in Tokyo."
"Captain Lightning!" one of the reporters called out before she could continue. "Is it true that several of your agents were injured during the operation?"
Lightning's expression tightened slightly as she turned toward the reporter. "That is true, although I'm not at liberty to identify them at this time," she replied. "What I can tell you is that they're receiving medical treatment, and their doctors are confident they'll make a full recovery."
"Even so, Captain, don't you think it's improper to have former Twinkle Series champions acting as agents on behalf of law enforcement?" the same reporter pressed. "These are beloved public figures with fans across the country."
Lightning tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. "And what am I, a duck?" she asked, drawing a ripple of laughter from several reporters while the woman who had asked the question flushed at the realization of how it had sounded.
Lightning allowed herself a faint smile before continuing. "I'm teasing, but there is a serious answer. C.H.A.S.E. isn't limited to former champions, and any uma who can prove she has what it takes to operate on asphalt can earn a place with us. When the unit was first created, we were working from a simple idea born more out of necessity than anything else, and former racers gave us a strong foundation because they already understood speed, endurance, pressure, and competition at the highest level. Someone coming in fresh would have to learn all of that alongside the law-enforcement side of the job."
She lifted her chin slightly as her expression grew more serious. "Do I believe girls who were once celebrated on the track should have to put themselves in danger chasing criminals? In a perfect world, no, I don't. But we don't live in a perfect world, and I want to make one thing absolutely clear. Neither my partner nor I dragged any of these girls onto the front lines or threatened them into wearing a badge. We gave them the choice, and they accepted it knowing the risks and knowing what could happen."
Her eyes hardened. "That isn't something they should be shamed for, and it sure as hell isn't something people should use to turn them into cautionary tales. They chose to step forward when they could have stayed home, and I think that deserves respect."
A murmur passed through the gathered reporters as Lightning steadied herself behind the podium.
"Now, you can quote me on this," she continued. "C.H.A.S.E. is here to stay, and this is only the beginning. We're already preparing to expand throughout Kanto, with Special Pursuit Units planned for Saitama, Chiba, Kawasaki, and other jurisdictions once the infrastructure is in place. From there, we intend to keep growing until there isn't a corner of Japan where the MRA can operate without knowing that someone is coming after them."
Her gaze hardened further as the cameras continued flashing. "And after Japan, we keep going. City by city, country by country, wherever the MRA plants its flag, C.H.A.S.E. will be there to tear it down." Her fingers tightened around the edge of the podium. "I started this fight years ago, and I'm going to finish it. I will not stop until the MRA, its networks, and everything that keeps it alive have been burned down to ash."
The murmuring swelled almost immediately into a wall of overlapping questions as reporters began shouting over one another, camera flashes bursting across the steps like exploding stars. Red remained behind her with his arms folded, his expression tightening as he cast a sideways look toward Ando, but the Superintendent General gave nothing away.
Red exhaled sharply and looked back toward the crowd, already knowing that whatever happened last night had only opened the door to something much larger. What came next would not simply change C.H.A.S.E. or the MRA, because if the momentum continued in this direction, it would change Japan itself.
****
"I dunno about you, partner, but that went a hell of a lot better than I expected," Red said as he laced his hands behind his head and let out a long yawn. "God, what I wouldn't give for a hot bath, a couple hours of sleep, and enough peace and quiet to piss off into dreamland without somebody callin' me back to work."
The chaos that had consumed the precinct lobby only a few hours earlier had finally begun to subside, settling into something closer to ordinary activity as officers, staff, and investigators moved across the polished floors at a steadier pace. Phones still rang from nearby desks and quiet conversations carried through the open space, but the frantic urgency that had driven everyone through the night had slowed to a crawl.
Even so, Lightning could still see the strain etched into almost every face she passed, from clenched jaws and dark circles beneath tired eyes to the occasional twitch of a brow that betrayed just how close some of them were to breaking. Most had been awake for nearly twenty-four hours, while others were still trying to process the loss of colleagues who would never be coming back, along with the uncertainty surrounding those who remained in emergency rooms fighting to stay alive.
Lightning had stood in front of the cameras and called the operation a success because that was what everyone needed to hear, but deep down it felt less like a victory and more like something they had barely survived by the skin of their teeth. Her gaze shifted toward Red for a moment before she looked ahead again, unwilling to let him see just how heavily that realization was beginning to settle on her.
"You can say that again," Lightning replied with a sharp exhale. "Still, I haven't had a night this crazy since our last operation in Havana."
"Man, Havana," Red said as a smirk slowly spread across his face. "God, I miss that place. The food, the coffee, the umas…" His grin widened until Lightning turned and gave him a long, level stare. Red immediately cleared his throat and straightened slightly. "And the culture, obviously. Can't forget the culture."
"You might want to shelve the candor for a moment, Detective. Captain." Chief Ando, who had been walking several paces ahead of them, stopped and turned to face them with his hands clasped neatly behind his back. "Considering how events unfolded, yes, the operation can be called a success on paper. However, neither I nor the Diet can simply overlook the scale of the disaster that followed."
His gaze hardened behind his glasses. "Dozens dead, dozens more injured, extensive property damage, gunfire in the heart of Tokyo, and what appear to have been military-trained insurgents operating in our streets. At the moment, I hardly know where to begin."
"Here we go, knew this shit was comin'," Red muttered as his expression darkened. "If you're about to dump this whole mess at our feet, you're barkin' up the wrong tree, Yappy."
He stepped forward, his irritation sharpening with every word. "None of this would've happened if you'd cut Okabe and Narukami loose a long time ago. That's the thing about dogs, sometimes it don't matter how tight ya keep the leash around their necks, they're gonna bite anyway, especially when they're as screwed in the head as those two mooks."
"Red," Lightning said flatly, giving him a warning look.
"And while we're at it, maybe ya wanna start lookin' into that tiny little problem everybody keeps pretendin' doesn't exist," Red continued, gesturing broadly with one hand. "HR. Ya know, that goddamned fraternity crawlin' through this place like a cancer? Seriously, you've got sewage leakin' into yer Kool-Aid and you're chuggin' it down like lemonade."
He jabbed a finger toward Ando. "Face it, Yappy, this ain't somethin' that just fell outta the sky. You let it fester, and now the whole damn city's payin' for it. So, if you think I'm gonna stand here while you wash yer hands and pin this shit on us, I swear I'll—"
"ANDO!"
The voice thundered across the lobby with enough force to cut Red off mid-threat, and all three of them turned toward the source at once. Striding toward them with furious, heavy steps was a portly man in a three-piece suit that looked at least one size too small, the waistcoat stretched tight across his stomach while the buttons strained against the fabric. His black hair was parted neatly down the middle, a trimmed beard framed his jaw, and a mustache curled above his upper lip, but any attempt at refinement was ruined by the expression twisting his face into pure rage. His eyes were narrowed, his nostrils flared, and his jaw was clenched so tightly that the muscles stood out beneath skin already shining with sweat, as though he had personally sprinted across half of Tokyo just to get there.
"You despicable, wretched, worthless, incompetent, craven, revolting excuse for an officer!" Governor Omura bellowed, loud enough to make conversations across the entire floor die almost instantly. He raised one gloved hand as he closed the remaining distance between them. "What, precisely, is the meaning of this?"
"Governor Omura," Ando greeted with flat restraint. "You must forgive me for not welcoming you personally. Had I known you were arriving—"
"Spare me your apologies!" Omura snapped. "I have absolutely no use for them. What I require is an explanation for your abject failure last night." He threw one hand outward as if presenting the entire city before them. "I woke this morning to article after article, news segment after news segment, all showing this city, my city, in absolute shambles. Dead officers, destroyed storefronts, damaged buildings, vehicles torn apart in the streets, and then I had to face the press while every blasted reporter in Tokyo tried to place responsibility for the entire debacle on me." His face contorted even further. "Me!"
Red and Lightning wore expressions nearly as flat as Ando's, although Red had already folded his arms across his chest and begun drumming his fingers against one sleeve in a slow rhythm. Lightning knew that look well enough to recognize exactly how much effort he was putting into not crossing the lobby and putting his fist through Omura's face.
"How dare they blame me for your failures!" Omura shouted, stabbing a hand toward Ando before sweeping it toward the precinct around them. "You and this pathetic excuse for a department have made yourselves an embarrassment to this entire city. Every one of you should be ashamed of what you allowed to happen, and so help me God, I will see to it that those responsible are reprimanded accordingly."
He shoved a finger toward Ando's face. "And you, I will personally make certain that you are stripped of your badge, your uniform, your medals, and every ounce of authority you have accumulated. I will have you thrown out of this building in disgrace, and I swear you will never—"
"With all due respect, Governor Omura," Ando cut in, carrying just enough force to silence the other man without ever becoming a shout, "kindly shut your damned mouth and cease this incessant rambling."
The lobby went even quieter.
Ando expression remained almost unnervingly composed. "This is a police precinct, not your private residence, so I suggest you mind both your tone and your conduct while you are inside it. You may have convinced yourself that your position places you above everyone unfortunate enough to stand in your presence, but you are addressing the Superintendent General of Tokyo."
His eyes hardened behind his glasses. "And unless I have suffered a catastrophic lapse in memory, I am neither your wife nor one of your children."
Red and Lightning both went slack for a moment before exchanging a look, each of them visibly struggling to process the fact that Ando had actually said it.
Omura's mouth opened and closed several times in something resembling a fish dragged onto dry land, while his raised finger trembled with barely contained fury. "Y-you… how dare you?" he finally sputtered. "You would dare speak to me in such a manner? Do you have any idea who you are addressing?!"
"Right now?" Ando tilted his head. "A disruptive, pitiful excuse for a man who is rapidly exhausting what little patience I have left and who is coming dangerously close to being arrested for disturbing the peace."
He stepped toward Omura, forcing the governor to take an instinctive step backward.
"Let us make one thing perfectly clear, Omura," Ando continued. "I do not answer to you. I never have, I never did, and I most certainly never will. For years, you have clung to the delusion that your title and your connections somehow place you among the most influential men in this country, and for a time, perhaps that delusion was even reinforced by people within the Diet who found you useful."
Ando adjusted his glasses with one finger. "But that time has unfortunately passed."
He regarded Omura for a moment before continuing. "Have you looked at the polls lately? The message boards? Public opinion across the web? Have you listened to what is being discussed on podcasts, television panels, and news programs?"
Omura tried to answer, but Ando simply continued over him.
"Very little of it paints the Tokyo Metropolitan Police in a negative light," Ando said. "The same cannot be said for you. In fact, the overwhelming sentiment appears to place the blame squarely on your shoulders, because the public has finally begun to see you for what you are. A swine grown fat on his own self-importance who mistook influence for competence."
Omura's face paled.
"And if the public has reached that conclusion," Ando continued, his eyes narrowing, "then I suggest you ask yourself a much more uncomfortable question. How do you imagine your friends in the Diet are beginning to see you now?"
Omura's eyes widened.
Ando leaned in just slightly further. "Or, for that matter, the Prime Minister."
Red raised a hand to cover his mouth as a grin threatened to spread across his face, while Lightning bit down on her lower lip hard enough to keep herself from laughing outright. The two kept trading glances, each one making it harder for the other to maintain a straight face as the confrontation unfolded in front of them.
"Y-you contemptible little ingrate!" Omura snarled, his face flushing deeper with every word. "I made you. It was my influence, my recommendation, and the weight of my name that placed you in that seat. Without me, the National Public Safety Commission would never have considered you for the position."
His gloved hands curled into fists at his sides. "After everything I have done for you, you now choose to turn around and bite the very hand that fed you, the same hand that lifted you into power?!"
His jaw clenched so tightly it looked painful. "No one crosses Matsue Omura," he hissed. "Do you understand me? No one!" He thrust a finger toward Ando. "I swear to you, I will use every ounce of influence I have left to see you brought down. I do not tolerate betrayal, Ando, and by the time I am finished with you, every victory you are celebrating today will taste like ash in your mouth!"
Ando's expression darkened before he glanced over his shoulder toward Lightning. "Captain Lightning, Detective Harlow, do correct me if I am mistaken, but did that sound rather like a threat to you?"
Lightning looked toward Red, and Red looked back at her.
"Oh, oh yeah, definitely a threat," Lightning said with an emphatic nod, gesturing toward Omura. "Real hard to take it any other way."
"Sure sounded like one to me," Red added with a low whistle. "Real dark, ominous stuff too. Could use a little work on the delivery, but the threat part came through loud and clear."
Ando returned his attention to Omura, whose expression had begun to lose some of its fury.
"Governor Omura, are you familiar with the penalties associated with threatening a public officer in the performance of his duties?" he asked calmly. "Article 95, Paragraph 1 of the Penal Code concerns obstruction or compulsion in the performance of public duty, including assault or intimidation directed against a public official while that official is carrying out lawful responsibilities."
Ando stepped closer, and Omura instinctively retreated another pace.
"A conviction may carry a custodial sentence of up to three years, along with the possibility of a fine," Ando continued, his tone remaining almost conversational. "And while I would never presume to advise you on campaign strategy, I imagine running for re-election becomes considerably more difficult when one is doing so from behind the walls of a detention facility, wouldn't you agree?"
As Omura struggled to force his fury into anything resembling a coherent sentence, Ando leaned closer until his mouth was near the governor's ear.
"I hold all the cards now, swine, while you have overplayed every one of yours," he murmured, a faint simper curling at the corner of his mouth. "All of Tokyo now sees you for what you truly are, and no amount of posturing will save you from that. In fact, I believe I owe you my sincerest thanks. You were convinced that C.H.A.S.E. would be the thing to rescue your failing campaign, but instead you have handed me the greatest political gift imaginable. Your terrible decisions, combined with your astonishing arrogance, have proven to be the gift that keeps on giving."
Ando straightened slightly, though the amusement in his eyes remained. "Now I stand before Tokyo as the convenient hero who restored order, while you have become the nobleman the public wishes to drag to the stake. Rather poetic, wouldn't you say?"
"Y-you…!" Omura sputtered, his face twisting further as Ando calmly stepped back.
"I would save your breath if I were you, Governor," Ando continued. "The coming weeks are going to be exhausting enough, considering how much additional effort you will have to put into worming your way back into the public's good graces."
He adjusted his glasses yet again. "That is, of course, after you finish testifying before the Diet and attempting to explain your gross dereliction of duty to the Prime Minister. Assuming, naturally, that the Tokyo Metropolitan Assembly does not put forward a vote of no confidence before you even get that far."
He allowed the words to settle before his expression hardened again. "Now, if you do not mind, this city remains in turmoil and is in desperate need of competent leadership, the sort capable of assuring the public that they are genuinely in safe hands rather than offering empty platitudes and hollow reassurances." His gaze narrowed behind his glasses. "You know the way out."
Omura's entire frame began to shake, his face turning such a vivid shade of red that both Red and Lightning briefly wondered whether he might simply combust where he stood. He raised one trembling finger toward Ando. "Fine. Posture, celebrate, wallow in your little victory while you still can, but mark my words, Ando, you may have won this battle, but you have not won the war."
His teeth clenched as he forced the words through them. "There will be a reckoning, and when that day comes, it will be you on your knees begging for mercy that I will take great pleasure in denying."
His gaze snapped toward Lightning and Red. "As for the two of you, you have made your loyalties perfectly clear. I brought you here. I gave you the resources you requested, and everything you have accomplished was made possible under my authority."
He shot another venomous look toward Ando before turning back to them. "I do not know what sort of twisted alliance you have forged with this man, but I can assure you that it is far more fragile than either of you seem to believe. Ask yourselves this, how long will it be before you are no longer useful to him, and how quickly will you become yet another stepping stone for his ambition?"
A sneer crept across Omura's face. "I look forward to that day, and make no mistake, it is coming."
He gave Ando one final murderous glare before turning on his heel and storming toward the exit.
"Abade-abade-abade," Red called after him, cupping one hand beside his mouth. "Th-th-th-that's all, folks!"
Omura let out an enraged yell and stomped away even faster, while Lightning clapped a hand over her mouth and turned aside, barely managing to keep herself from bursting into laughter.