Chapter 32: Where He Is Still Shunsuke || Mada Shunsuke de Irareru Basho

  Kawamura-gumi headquarter, Roppongi → October 31st, 2022

  “Even the heaviest crowns are set down somewhere.”

  Shunsuke walked through the silent, oppressive hallways of the headquarters, his footsteps muffled by the heavy carpet. He felt the weight of the dragon irezumi on his back, a reminder of the heritage he often wished he could shed. He stopped before Taiki’s office, took a steadying breath, and knocked.

  He opened the door and immediately dropped into a deep, formal bow—the perfect image of a disciplined heir. "You wanted to speak with me, Satsuma-sama," he said, his voice smooth despite the chaos in his chest.

  As Shunsuke straightened himself, his heart nearly stopped. Sitting in the guest chair, radiating a quiet, dangerous authority, was Yuu Nakashima.

  "Nakashima-sama..." Shunsuke gasped, his composure slipping for a fraction of a second. He recovered instantly, bowing again, deeper this time. “I apologize for entering without awareness of your presence.”

  Shunsuke’s entire body stiffened. It was one thing to be summoned by the Senior Advisor for internal business, but to find the Oyabun of another family—the father of the woman he loved—present in the room changed everything. This wasn't a casual meeting; this was a summit. And judging by the look in Yuu's eyes, the "secret" of his relationship with Miyu was no longer a secret.

  Taiki gestured toward the empty chair beside the Nakashima Oyabun. “Please, sit down, Shunsuke. I need to speak with you about something of grave importance. I have already appraised Nakashima-sama of the situation.”

  Shunsuke nodded, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. He approached and sat, his spine a perfect, rigid line. He was hyper-aware of every inch of his posture; to slouch in front of a man like Yuu Nakashima would be an unforgivable sign of weakness.

  “Relax, Shunsuke,” Taiki said, his voice unusually gentle. “You are not in danger here.”

  Shunsuke forced his shoulders to drop a fraction of an inch, though he remained coiled like a spring. He didn't believe for a second that he was safe—not when the Senior Advisor was defying the Patriarch's orders.

  “It’s about your father, Shunsuke. Shohei explicitly forbade me from sharing this with you,” Taiki said, his expression grim. He reached across the mahogany desk and pushed a thin, clinical-looking folder toward Shunsuke. “But I believe the heir has a right to know the state of the throne he is about to inherit.”

  Shunsuke’s long fingers reached for the folder, trembling almost imperceptibly. He opened it, and the sterile smell of the hospital seemed to waft from the pages. It was a medical report for Shohei Kawamura, dated only a week ago.

  Shunsuke’s eyes darted across the kanji on the clinical report, his vision blurring as the reality set in. His breath hitched, a sharp, ragged sound in the quiet office.

  “That… that can’t be…” Shunsuke stuttered, the paper rattling in his shaking hands. “My father is terminally ill?”

  The words felt like ash in his mouth. He looked up, his eyes wide and searching Taiki’s face for any sign of a cruel joke. “No… this… it’s too soon.” The words caught in his throat, choked off by the sheer weight of the implication.

  This was the nightmare he had spent years trying to outrun. He had hoped for more time—time to finish his degree, time to find a way to protect Miyu, time to perhaps even find a way out of the Gumi's grasp. But the clock had just run out.

  “What… is…” Shunsuke tried to swallow, his throat bone-dry. He turned his head slightly toward Yuu, his voice a mere tremble. “Miyu and I… we were supposed to have more time.”

  “That is precisely why I invited Nakashima-sama here,” Taiki said, his voice steady and grounding. “Breathe, Shunsuke. The transition of power in a family like ours is a dangerous time. You and Miyu… we will find a way to secure both of your futures, but you must stay present.”

  "I will speak with my daughter as well, but the reality is clear: you two must marry either before the succession or immediately after," Yuu Nakashima stated, his voice like grinding stone. "I know you both wanted to wait for a more... traditional life. But in our world, there is no such thing as 'later' once the chair becomes vacant."

  Shunsuke took a long, shaky breath, the weight of the proposal settling onto his shoulders. It was the very thing he wanted and the very thing he feared—Miyu would be his wife, but she would also be a target at the center of a power struggle.

  "I understand," Shunsuke said, his voice finding its resonance again. "By binding our families now, it legitimizes our relationship before the eyes of both clans. It makes our union an absolute law."

  Shunsuke closed his eyes for a brief second, visualizing Miyu’s face. He had wanted to propose on a quiet beach, or perhaps after his graduation—not in a smoke-filled office over a terminal medical report. But he knew Yuu was right.

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  "I understand. Thank you for the warning, Taiki," Shunsuke said, then turned his full attention to the man beside him. He inclined his head in a respectful, deep seated bow. "And thank you, Nakashima-sama, for your blessing and for the honor of marrying your daughter. I will protect her with my life."

  Shunsuke’s knock was heavy, lacking its usual rhythmic precision. When Ryuichi opened the door, he took one look at Shunsuke’s hollowed-out expression and felt a chill.

  “What’s wrong, Nii-san? You look like you just found out you’re ascending the throne today,” Ryuichi said, his voice carrying a trace of his usual wit—though it was brittle.

  He stepped back instantly when Shunsuke didn't even crack a smile. The silence that followed was suffocating.

  “No…” Ryuichi whispered, the color draining from his face. “Don’t tell me…”

  Shunsuke simply nodded, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the suit he was born to wear. “Shohei is ill. He is terminally ill. The medical reports give him a year at the very best,” Shunsuke said, his voice flat. “Taiki told me just an hour ago. He had Nakashima-sama there as a witness.”

  Ryuichi shook his head, a bitter, knowing laugh threatening to break out of his chest. “Now it makes sense…” he muttered, turning away to pace the small living room.

  Shunsuke inclined his head, his dark eyes narrowing as he watched his brother. The "President" was gone, replaced by a confused man seeking an anchor. “What makes sense, Ryuichi? What are you talking about?”

  Ryuichi and Shunsuke sat side-by-side on the couch, the same way they had a thousand times since they were children. But today, the space between them felt heavy with the ghosts of the men who had come before them.

  “Taiki-san invited me to his office this morning, too. He had… information about my parents,” Ryuichi started, his voice steady but low. He stared at his hands, his knuckles still white from the tension of the day. “My father was…”

  He stopped, the words sticking in his throat before he forced them out. “He was Shohei’s older brother. The original heir. We aren't just brothers by choice, Shunsuke. We’re cousins. We’re the same blood.”

  Shunsuke stared at Ryuichi, his dark eyes wide with a shock that bordered on a trance. His brain, already reeling from the news of his father’s terminal illness and his own impending marriage, struggled to process this final piece of the puzzle.

  “That’s… really messy,” Shunsuke finally said. It was a clumsy word, a hollow shield against the magnitude of the truth. He wanted to say more—wanted to ask about the lies, the secrets, and the years of being kept in the dark—but his heart was too full of a different kind of grief.

  He looked at Ryuichi, his gaze softening with a sudden, fierce resolve. “Ryu… listen to me. When I become Oyabun—and it looks like that day is coming far sooner than we thought—I promise you something.”

  He reached out, resting a hand on Ryuichi’s shoulder. “I will let you leave. I will strike your name from the rolls, officially or otherwise. You have your law degree. You have Hina. At least one of us… at least one of us should get to have a normal life.”

  Ryuichi shook his head slowly, a sad but resolute smile touching his lips. He didn’t hesitate; the freedom Shunsuke was offering was a beautiful gift, but it was one he couldn't bring himself to open.

  “No, Shunsuke. I will not leave you behind in this mess,” Ryuichi said, his voice softer and more intimate than usual. The "Strategist" had stepped aside, leaving only the brother behind. “Yes, it’s true—I never wanted this life. I wanted the law, the quiet, the normalcy. But I wanted that life with my brother at my side. If I walk away now, I lose you to the darkness of that throne. I’d be free, but I’d be alone. That isn't freedom; it’s a different kind of prison.”

  He reached out and gripped Shunsuke’s forearm, anchoring him. “So don’t think about it ever again. You’re stuck with me. You can’t get away from me that easily, Nii-san.”

  The weight of the word Nii-san carried more power now than it ever had before. It wasn't just a term of respect anymore; it was an acknowledgment of the blood that bound them. Ryuichi was making his choice: if Shunsuke had to be the King, Ryuichi would be the shadow behind the throne, ensuring his brother didn't drown in the responsibility.

  Misaki looked between her brothers, her eyes sharp with concern. "What is the situation with you and Miyu?" she asked, sensing the shift in the room's gravity.

  Shunsuke took a deep, steadying breath. "I have the blessing of her father. But it comes with a condition: Miyu and I must marry either before the succession or immediately after it," he explained. The weight of the words seemed to physically press him into the cushions. "I... I had hoped we both had more time. I feel so bad for Yuki-chan."

  He murmured the last part almost to himself, his gaze drifting to the floor. "If her classmates find out who her father is... if they realize what kind of world she belongs to..."

  Ryuichi reached out and took Shunsuke's hand, a rare and grounding gesture of solidarity. "I know. You were bullied in school because of it, Shunsuke. I remember. Just as I was bullied because of my own heritage."

  Shunsuke offered a small, weary smile—the kind that didn't quite reach his eyes. It was a look of profound, tragic love. "I only ever wished I could have protected her from this life. I wanted her to grow up in the light, not under the shadow of the dragon."

  Shunsuke’s keycard clicked against the lock, a mechanical sound that felt like the closing of a chapter. As soon as the door swung open, a dark shadow bolted across the floor.

  “Hey, Kuro,” he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion. He scooped the raccoon into his arms, burying his face for a second in the animal’s thick fur.

  Across the room, Miyu was surrounded by the life she was trying to build—textbooks spread across the cushions, the quiet light of a student’s afternoon. Shunsuke tried to offer her a smile, but it was a ghost of a gesture; it didn’t reach his eyes, which remained dark with the weight of Taiki’s office.

  Miyu didn’t wait for him to speak. She stood up, crossing the room with a steady grace that reminded him so much of her father. She stopped just inches from him, her gaze unwavering. “My father already called me, Shunsuke,” she said softly. She reached out, resting her hand over his on Kuro’s back. “I don’t run. I’m not going anywhere. I stay with you.”

  Shunsuke’s breath hitched, his composure finally fracturing. “Thank you, Miyu…”

  Kuro, sensing the shift in the room, let out a sharp, inquisitive chirp. Shunsuke let out a weak, watery laugh, scratching the raccoon behind the ears. “Yes, Kuro… I’ll promote you to Wakagashira (First Lieutenant). You’ll have to keep us all in line now.”

  Kuro flickered his tail with a definitive twitch, almost as if he were approving the promotion and the heavy responsibility that came with it.