Kage Ou's eyes lingered over his nephew, unreadable, the faintest glint of suspicion flickering in them.
Knowing how little his uncle believed in words, Xio took another breath—calculated and slow—measured not for honesty, but survival.
"We never wanted attention drawn to us," he said quietly, "but now… even Kyoren is being watched."
Kage Ou's brow twitched. His eyes narrowed at the thought, frustration tightening his lips. He raised the wine to his mouth without a word, his expression caught between grim seriousness and stormy disbelief.
Before Xio could say more, Kage Ou suddenly turned toward the courtesans lounging in the room. His voice, hoarse with drink and power, erupted like a thrown blade:
"WHY ARE YOU WHORES STILL HERE?! CAN'T YOU SEE I'M BUSY WITH MY NEPHEW?!"
Xio winced. The shout stabbed into his ear, scraping the raw edge of his nerves. Panic clawed at his chest before he wrestled it back down. The women scrambled up, robes falling from their shoulders before they could catch them and cover their chests, hastily scurrying out of the room.
Xio closed the door gently, his fingers trembling. His body still ached—his arm, his ribs, the bite that no one must see.
Behind him, Kage Ou sighed and slumped into his bed, eyes half-lidded but still focused, still watching. A predator at rest.
"So… those silver-blue rats are suspecting us. All because of the two-tailed puppet?" he murmured.
Xio nodded, his gaze downcast, watching the floor as though the marble might fracture and give him a way out.
"I escaped because Kuradome… lost control. After I stabbed Kyoren. It was part of our plan. A bluff."
Kage Ou exhaled, arms crossing, expression unreadable.
"And why," he asked slowly, "did such an act become necessary?"
Xio sat down at the low table, poured two cups of wine with calm hands and a racing heart. An invitation. A delay. A distraction.
Kage Ou stared at the offered cup, then moved to join him, silent, attentive. Xio took a slow sip—just enough to wet his throat—and began.
"There was a murder that day. A wealthy family in Bayakuya. It wasn't just a killing—it was a message. Disturbing enough that Bayakuya and Fukaki were sealed off with Yin Yan Jei Jei. You already know, uncle. No word was supposed to leave the clans."
"Hm."
Kage Ou leaned on one hand, gaze sharp, tracking every breath, every twitch of Xio's body. Looking for the lie behind the truth.
Xio's heart thundered in his ears. He could feel the sweat on his neck, the burn of hidden bite marks beneath the collar of his robe. If Kage Ou saw them—if he understood what had really happened—
His uncle's gaze hovered a moment too long at his throat.
Was he reading body language? Hunting guilt? Or… something more?
Xio remembered too clearly how Kage Ou had described him to those women—like an object, not a blood relative. It wasn't love. It wasn't even cruelty. It was ownership.
"You seem tired," Kage Ou said, voice suddenly gentle in a dizzy, dangerous way. "Worried, even."
Before he could add more, Xio interrupted with a forced, careful smile.
"No, uncle. I'm fine. Just… tired from the injury. The arm."
Kage Ou's eyes flicked to the wound. Something flickered across his face—less than concern, less than contempt. Something in between.
"That three-tailed old fox really lost control over the puppet, didn't he?" he muttered, bitterly.
Xio gasped softly. There was no pity in his uncle's tone—just wounded pride. Kuradome had injured the Second Dao of his clan. That, for Kage Ou, was personal.
"Does it hurt?" Kage Ou asked, so softly it made Xio tense.
Blink. "Not too much. I've handled worse," Xio said, voice low.
Kage Ou nodded with a crooked smile. "Of course. My boy's grown up."
Xio gave a dry smile back. He lifted his wine again, this time drinking it in one go. His throat arched with the motion, sweat glinting on his skin. Every gulp was visible, every movement observed. It was oddly quiet.
Kage Ou's eyes never left him.
Xio set the cup down and dabbed his face and neck with a cloth, suppressing the wince that wanted to escape. The pain was sharp—but exposing it would mean revealing too much.
"It's… hot today," he murmured. "No wind. No sun. Just heat."
Kage Ou snapped out of his gaze and nodded. "Hn. Summer's worst mood. No rain, no breeze."
He fanned himself lazily. Xio saw the opening and leaned into it, rubbing his bandaged arm with mock fatigue. A pathetic move—but if Kage Ou's eyes really held the glimmer of care he thought he'd seen earlier… maybe it would work.
He needed an escape. His head throbbed. His ribs, hips, chest—all hurt. He wanted to run from this room, from this man, and collapse in his own bed like a child after battle.
Instead, he kept speaking. Smooth. Balanced.
"Later, Yin Lan clan got involved. Two of their young members—Utsushi and Kairo—went missing in Fukaki. When they were found, they'd also stumbled upon the Yin Yan Jei Jei seal. It must've weakened, otherwise they'd never have seen it."
Kage Ou's fingers drummed the table. His eyes darkened.
"Discovered? Then what?"
"At night, they went to Kazomaki to question Kyoren. I followed, sensing trouble. I watched from a distance as the meeting unfolded. One of the Yin Lan leaders began questioning Kyoren directly—too sharply. He wasn't letting it go. So I created a diversion. His right hand, Yurei, noticed me. We fought."
He paused, eyes flickering with the memory.
"Kuradome got involved. It spiraled fast. We had to act—make the scene believable. So Kyoren took my blade on purpose, just as we'd silently agreed. But Kuradome… didn't stop. He took it personally. His guqin—'Mukuro'—he used it to attack me.."
Kage Ou's jaw tensed, silent fury simmering just under his skin.
"I escaped using his own spiritual tune—broke the palace doors. Ran. That's how I ended up like this. And I heard… Yin Lan has deepened their suspicion. Especially their Second Dao . And a fifth-grade lan... They'll act soon."
The room was still. Hot. The wine was bitter on Xio's tongue.
Kage Ou stared at him like a man deciding if the next move should be mercy or judgment.
Xio didn't flinch.