Shimazu moved through the kitchen with practiced efficiency, his staff parting before him like water. He climbed the stairs to the rooftop access and found two sumo wrestlers stationed at the door, massive men who served as both bodyguards and a very final line of defense.
"No one enters. No matter who asks."
Both men bowed in acknowledgment. Shimazu pushed through the door onto the rooftop terrace.
The open-air dining area overlooked Osaka's glittering skyline. A man sat at the table with his back to the door, and beside him floated a blue cat-shaped balloon.
Shimazu stopped, staring at the balloon. "You've changed. Never thought I'd see you carrying children's toys."
He approached slowly. "I hoped you'd found peace, Jonathan. It seems I was mistaken."
John Wick turned. His face was older, harder than Shimazu remembered. The years hadn't been kind.
Shimazu gestured to the table. "Please. Sit."
As John settled into his chair, Shimazu poured tea from a ceramic pot, green tea, traditional, the ritual offering comfort in uncomfortable circumstances.
"The High Table executed Winston. Judged him and beheaded him simply for helping you." Shimazu's tone was measured, neutral. "My daughter fears we're next."
"I'm sorry about Winston," John said quietly. "I will avenge him."
Shimazu raised his cup. "Have you considered how this ends? For you, I mean. The High Table doesn't stop. It's a machine that consumes lives and produces corpses. That's all it does."
John lifted his own tea, sipped. "I'll kill them all."
A sad smile touched Shimazu's lips. "I'm certain you'll try. But no one kills them all, Jonathan. The High Table is hydra, cut off one head, two more appear." He leaned forward. "Do you want to die? Because that's the only destination this road leads to."
"There are honorable deaths and dishonorable ones," Shimazu continued. "You can only die with dignity if you've lived with dignity. Have you?"
John met his old friend's eyes. "We left dignified lives behind long ago, Koji. Both of us."
Shimazu fell silent, drinking his tea.
"I'm sorry to bring trouble to your door," John said after a moment.
"A friend in need is a friend indeed." Shimazu's voice was soft. "What do you need?"
"I need something you possess. In exchange, I'll give you information that might save your life and your daughter's."
Shimazu's expression sharpened. "What item?"
John withdrew the Four-Star Dragon Ball from his jacket and placed it on the table. "I know you have one similar to this. Five stars instead of four. I need it."
Shimazu didn't seem surprised. He reached into his own pocket and produced the Five-Star Ball, setting it beside John's. "When I heard you and the Camorra were both searching for these, I knew you'd come eventually."
He slid it across the table. "Take it. With my blessing."
John accepted it without hesitation. "Thank you, Koji."
"Now tell me why this ball is worth your life."
John leaned forward. "First, let me ask: would you like your daughter to be truly safe? Beyond the High Table's reach?"
Shimazu's eyes narrowed. "In our world? There's nowhere safe from the High Table. You know that."
"I joined the Fraternity." John let that sink in. "Three days ago, we strike the High Table Elder."
He counted them off on his fingers. "The Camorra. Marquis Vincent Bisset de Gramont. The Sand Elder. All gone. Wiped from existence."
Shimazu's cup stopped halfway to his lips. "That's... impossible."
"Is it?" John's voice was calm, factual. "Try contacting any of them. See what you find."
"What kind of organization could accomplish that?" Shimazu's mind raced. "I've never even heard of this Fraternity. The only force I know that could resist the High Table is the Hand."
He doesn't even know they exist, John realized. The Osaka Continental is more isolated than I thought.
"Send someone to verify. Contact the Camorra. Call Gramont's office." John's certainty was unshakeable. "You'll find they've vanished."
Shimazu gestured sharply. One of the sumo wrestlers approached, and Shimazu whispered rapid instructions in Japanese. The man bowed and hurried away.
While they waited, John began explaining. "The Fraternity has existed for over a thousand years. They've clashed with the High Table before, this isn't their first war. But now they've decided to end it permanently."
"A thousand years?" Shimazu's shock was evident. "How have I never heard of them?"
"They operate in shadows beneath shadows. Their mission is to eliminate corruption, not for profit, but because they believe it's necessary. They're the world's immune system."
Shimazu absorbed this, then asked the crucial question. "You want me to send Akira there. To this Fraternity. But first, answer me honestly: do you believe they can actually destroy the High Table?"
John didn't answer directly. "What's your assessment of my abilities? As a fighter, as an assassin."
Shimazu considered carefully. "You're the strongest killer I've ever met. There are perhaps four or five others worldwide who might match you, but in a real fight to the death? I'd bet on you every time."
"My strength doesn't even crack the top ten in the Fraternity," John said flatly. "If they wanted me dead, I'd never see my killer. Their snipers work at distances I can't comprehend. Their bullets curve around corners, I've seen it with my own eyes."
He paused, choosing his words carefully. "And their leader? GOD? Calling him Captain America reborn would be underselling it. Captain America needed a shield. GOD stops bullets with his body and keeps fighting."
Shimazu's hand covered his mouth. "My God."
"So I'm offering you three options." John held up fingers. "First: send Akira to the Fraternity's headquarters for sanctuary. I've already cleared it with GOD. She'll be safe regardless of what happens here.
"Second: remain neutral. The High Table will mobilize against the Fraternity. You hold your position, serve guests from both sides, maintain the old rules. It's risky, but possible.
"Third, and best, find the right moment to betray the High Table. Let the Fraternity see where your loyalties truly lie. When the war ends, you'll be on the winning side."
Shimazu took a deep breath, then another. The world was tilting beneath his feet.
The sumo wrestler returned and whispered urgently. Shimazu's face went pale.
"Can't reach Camorra. Gramont's people aren't responding to any channels. And the Casablanca Continental confirms... significant changes. They're being evasive, but the Sand Elder is gone."
It was all true.
"Bring Akira up here," Shimazu said quietly.
After the guard left, he looked at John with new respect, and new fear. "I'll implement both the first and third options simultaneously. Akira goes to safety, and I'll wait for the right moment to declare for the Fraternity."
John smiled, genuine approval. "You won't regret this, Koji. I promise you that."
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