Seijurou leaned back, his fingers tracing the edge of a priceless tablet. He looked out at the crumbling neighborhood like he was watching a movie about a different world.
"You know, Mr. Kamitani," Seijurou began, his voice smooth and slow. "People wait months just for a glance at my schedule. Governors, bankers, even stars... they all bow when I enter a room. They understand that my time is the most expensive thing in Tokyo."
Mr. Kamitani didn't look impressed. In fact, he didn't look at Seijurou at all. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. The screen lit up, casting a pale glow on his face.
Swish. Swish.
His thumb moved across the screen. He was checking a grocery list.
"Steak... miso paste... and a big box of strawberries."Mr. Kamitani muttered to himself, completely ignoring the billionaire.
The air in the car turned cold. Seijurou's eyes narrowed. He wasn't used to being ignored. He took a slow breath, forcing himself to stay calm. He forced a thin, fake smile onto his face.
"I suppose that's why they call you the 'Shield'," Seijurou said, his voice tightening.
"You have nerves of steel. You are a very rare man, Mr. Kamitani. Most lawyers are dogs, but you... you are a lion."
Mr. Kamitani finally locked his phone and looked up. He gave Seijurou a dry, bored look.
"Tell me something I don't know, Mr. Kanzaki,"
Mr. Kamitani snapped. "If I wanted to hear a fan club speech, I'd go to the courthouse. Say what you came to say, or get off my street."
Seijurou's face went pale. His jaw tightened so hard a muscle jumped in his cheek. He had finally lost his patience.
"You really don't know when to be grateful, do you—"
Before Seijurou could finish, the bodyguard snapped. He couldn't watch his master be insulted anymore. With a shout of anger, the big man rushed forward. His heavy boots thumped against the dirt, and he raised a massive fist, aiming right for Mr. Kamitani's head.
"Apologize to the Chairman!" the bodyguard screamed.
Mr. Kamitani didn't move back. He moved forward.
In a blur of motion, he caught the bodyguard's wrist and grabbed his index finger. He stepped to the side and twisted the hand with a sharp, brutal flick.
CRACK.
"AAAAAGH!"
The bodyguard's scream was high and sharp. He hit the ground hard, his knees thudding into the stones. He was bent over, his face turning purple as he stared at his own twisted finger. He let out a groan, his breath coming in gasps.
Mr. Kamitani didn't let go. He looked over the groaning man's head and stared directly at Seijurou.
"Is this the best you can do, Mr. Kanzaki?" Mr. Kamitani asked, his voice dripping with insult. "Sending a dog to do a man's job? It's embarrassing."
Seijurou stared at his bodyguard on the ground. His eyes were empty and terrifying.
"Get up," Seijurou said. His voice was a low, freezing whisper.
The bodyguard trembled, his face pale from the pain. "Chairman... forgive me, I—"
"You have ten seconds to vanish," Seijurou said, his eyes fixed on Kamitani with terrifying stillness. "If you are still in my sight when I finish this sentence, I will have your legs broken to match your hand. Go."
The bodyguard didn't wait for a heartbeat. He scrambled to his feet, clutching his ruined wrist, and fled into the darkness of the alley without looking back.
Mr. Kamitani sighed, looking totally annoyed. He straightened his shirt and looked at his watch again. "Great. Now I'm behind schedule. Are we done with the circus?"
Seijurou leaned back into the deep shadows of the seat. He looked like a king sitting on a throne, watching a commoner through a window.
"How can I make it up to you, Mr. Kamitani?" Seijurou asked. His voice was smooth, but it felt like a cold breeze. "Money? A new suit? Or perhaps a car that doesn't smell like old dust?"
Mr. Kamitani didn't even look at the Mercedes. He wiped a smudge of dirt off his sleeve. His face was bored, but his eyes were sharp.
"For starters," Mr. Kamitani said, his voice flat. "You can stop wasting my time with these games. I have a family inside, and your presence is ruining a perfectly good Saturday."
Seijurou's fingers tightened on the leather armrest. For a split second, his calm mask slipped, and his eyes flashed with anger. But then, he let out a short, quiet laugh.
"I see," Seijurou said. "You aren't interested in gifts. Very well. I know exactly how to pay you back for your trouble."
He reached into the pocket of his tailored jacket. He didn't pull out a checkbook. He pulled out a small, old-fashioned silver pocket watch. He flipped it open, the metal clicking loudly in the quiet street.
The afternoon sun was low in the sky, covering the power lines and old rooftops in a soft golden light. Shido walked with a slow, rhythmic scuff-scuff of his sneakers against the uneven sidewalk.
In his right hand, a thin plastic bag crinkled with every movement. The milk carton inside shifted, making a dull slosh-slosh sound that felt heavier than it actually was.
"Premium, my foot," Shido huffed, his blue hair messy in the orange light. "That old man at the shop really thought he could play me. 'Fresh from the farm'—please. The cow probably died of old age before this hit the shelf. It's practically ancient history in a bottle."
He adjusted his grip, the plastic handle leaving a red mark across his palm.
"I bet Kento is at home right now, probably laughing with Hori and Kashima. They're probably sharing a big bowl of ice cream while I'm out here fighting for my life in the humidity."
"I'm basically the maid of this family," Shido grumbled, the plastic bag swaying heavily against his leg.
He stopped walking for a second. He looked up at the orange sky, letting a dramatic silence hang in the air as he adjusted his grip.
"No... wait," he whispered, his smirk returning. He stood a little taller, imagining the sunset was his own personal spotlight. "Maid? That's low-tier. I'm a hero. A legendary hero on a top-rank quest. I'm carrying a carton of milk instead of a holy sword, but the sacrifice? The struggle? It's basically the same thing."
He nodded to himself, satisfied with his new title, and continued down the street with a bit more energy in his step. "Kento better be ready to clap when I walk through that door."
As Shido turned the corner and the Amamiya house came into view, he suddenly stopped.
Parked right in the middle of the cracked, diary street was a Mercedes. It was so clean, so shiny, that it looked like a diamond dropped into a pile of coal. The afternoon sun hit the car, and the light reflected off its smooth surface, shining against the old, rusty fences nearby.
"Whoa," Shido whispered, his light blue eyes widening. "A Mercedes? In this dump?"
His gaze moved from the car to the man standing beside it. The man was tall, with dark hair and a perfectly straight back. He looked calm and in control, the kind of person who made others nervous.
Shido stared. He'd seen that jacket before. He'd seen that posture before. Slowly, his eyes traveled up to the back of the man's head. Not a single strand of hair was out of place. Not a single hint of silver.
"Wait..." Shido's mouth fell open. His brain felt like it was trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces. "Is that... Dad?"
He took a step closer, narrowing his eyes. It was definitely him. "Holy crap," Shido whispered.
He quickly hid behind a pile of old wooden boxes. "Since when did Dad look like some movie star?" Shido muttered. "Look at that jawline. He looks like he's about to shoot a high-budget commercial ad or something."
Shido reached into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out a strawberry candy. He unwrapped it with a sharp crinkle and put it into his mouth, chewing hard as his blood pressure rose.
"Okay, think, Shido. Think," he whispered to himself. "A luxury car. A handsome dad. A secret meeting."
A slow, mischievous grin spread across his face.
"He's meeting a rich woman! I knew it! Dad is pulling a sugar mommy!" He did a little silent victory dance behind the wooden boxes.
He leaned closer to the pile of boxes, already imagining his new life.
"If she's as rich as that Mercedes, maybe Dad can finally get me that Limited Edition Designer Wardrobe I saw in the magazine. Or even better..."
He paused, a mischievous smirk crossing his face as he thought of his girlfriend.
"I'll ask for a Private VIP Lounge Pass at that new rooftop cafe in Shibuya. I'll take Tamiko there for our next date. She'll blush so hard she might actually faint."
He felt a weird sense of pride. He adjusted his position, crawling slightly to the left to get a better view of the 'lady' in the back seat.
"Go on, Dad," Shido cheered internally. "Use those moves. Show her the 'Shield of the Court' charm."
-----