A massive four-layered cake dominated the center of the pristine white pavilion. The bottom layer bore an elegantly scripted name Zenjiro while a regal crown adorned the top.
The pavilion itself, crafted from rich mahogany, featured glass-paneled walls that allowed a clear view of the lush gardens beyond. A short two-step staircase led to the entrance, where inside, plush white chairs were arranged in a welcoming semi-circle.
Mayumi and Masashi's younger brother sat in quiet conversation, their voices low and measured. Mina lingered near the drinks table, idly running her fingers along the rim of a wine glass.
The door creaked open. A gust of cool air swept in as Akira stepped inside, his gaze flicking over the gathering.
His eyes settled on Mina.
"What are you doing, Mina?"
She spun around, startled, nearly knocking over a crystal decanter. Her fingers tensed around the stem of her glass.
"Don't get into whiskey. Have wine instead. It's good."
Without waiting for a response, he strode toward the towering cake, his sharp gaze locking onto the chocolate inscription. He reached out, plucking the small plaque that bore Zenjiro's name, and bit off a piece.
"Who wrote this?"
Akira shot Mayumi a glance.
"Everyone knows whose birthday it is."
Akira ignored her, circling the cake with measured steps, scrutinizing every detail as though inspecting a battlefield map.
The pavilion door swung open again, this time with a sharper force. Masashi entered, his polished shoes striking the floor with an air of irritation. His gaze landed on Akira, his brows knitting together.
"It wouldn't kill you to say hello to someone."
He halted beside the cake.
"You've upset a powerful man. He heard you."
The words cut through the air, dragging Mayumi, Mina, and Masashi's younger brother into a tense silence. Even the flickering candlelight seemed to hesitate.
"If you want to take over the empire,"
Masashi pressed, his tone edged with warning,
"Then you've got to change this attitude of yours."
Akira's lips curled into a smirk.
"I inherited this attitude, Masashi. It's in my blood. How do I get rid of it?"
Mayumi let out a long sigh, rubbing her temples.
"There you two go again with your argument"
Masashi inhaled deeply, trying to steady his temper.
"Mayumi, I'm just trying to explain to him that…"
A flicker of movement caught Mina's attention. She shot a quick glance at Masashi's younger brother, something passing between them in silent exchange.
Masashi, oblivious to the exchange, continued,
"... if he wants to do business in Seikatsu, he needs to think carefully about every move he makes."
Akira tilted his head, as if considering. Then, he asked,
"How far can you see?"
"What?"
"Can you see where our business will be in five, ten, or even twenty years?"
Mayumi suddenly stood up, irritation flashing in her eyes.
"Alright, we get it. You're smart. Now shut up."
Akira turned to her, his expression unreadable.
"It surprises me, Mayumi. Is 'shut up' and 'stop it' all you ever have to say? How sad."
Then, shifting his gaze to Masashi, he added,
"Brother-in-law, does my sister not have the right to speak in your house?"
Masashi shook his head, jaw tightening.
"That's not the point. The Governor is our guest. We need to show him respect---"
"The point,"
Akira cut in, voice razor-sharp,
"is that you're not just representing Masashi Murata. You're representing Hawthorne. You're representing Zenjiro Hawthorne."
His words landed like hammer blows.
"You don't need to bow to them."
Masashi's patience snapped.
"Don't talk to me like that! I'm not bowing to anyone. He's my friend."
Akira let out a short, humorless laugh.
"A friend? Then why is he still wearing his party sash? Why didn't his security leave their guns at the gate?"
Masashi clenched his fists.
"He's the Governor, for crying out loud! There are protocols to follow."
Akira scoffed.
"There are no protocols in this compound."
His turned towards Mayumi.
"Did you notice? They're carrying huge rifles."
Then, his eyes darted to Mina, then to Masashi's younger brother, before snapping back to her.
"What's your deal, Mina?"
His loud shout, jolted Mina, nearly dropping her glass.
"You're not interested in any of this?"
Akira's voice was sharp.
"Are you planning to join the business in the future, or will you just keep repeating 'shut up' and 'stop it' like her?"
"Idiot,"
Masashi said,
"That Governor is going to be the Prime Minister in ten years,"
Akira barely blinked.
"Then he will wait for me."
There was no hesitation, no doubt. Just absolute certainty.
Then a sharp knock against the glass.
Every head in the pavilion turned. The tension remained suspended in the air as an old man stood just beyond the window. White hair swept back from his face, his deep black eyes gleaming with quiet authority. They were identical to Yuri's.
Though older than Zenjiro, the man carried himself with the kind of strength that demanded respect without asking for it.
"Champ,"
The man greeted, his voice carrying easily through the space.
"When did you get back from Dressrosa?"
He stepped around the pavilion, pushing the door open without waiting for an answer. As soon as he was inside, he reached for Akira, pulling him into a firm, familiar hug.
Akira returned the gesture with an ease he rarely showed.
"Misao-uncle. How are you doing?"
Misao gripped his hand tightly, nodding in approval.
"I'm doing great,"
He said, then studied Akira for a long moment before a chuckle rumbled.
"I heard you got a haircut as a gift for your father?"
He said, shaking his head.
"You haven't changed one bit."
Across the room, Mina feigned disinterest, ignoring the subtle signals Masashi's younger brother sent her way. She took a slow sip from her wine glass, her expression unreadable.
Misao patted Akira's shoulder with a firm grip.
"Alright, let's grab a drink sometime. I want to hear your stories."
With that, he nodded to the room and stepped out, leaving the door slightly ajar in his wake.
The tension, briefly displaced, crept back in the moment he was gone.
Masashi wasted no time picking up where they left off.
"Why stop at Prime Minister?"
He said dryly.
"Even the Five Elders will wait for him."
Mayumi's voice cut through the thick atmosphere.
"Masashi, don't instigate him. Please don't do this right now."
Akira's gaze snapped to her.
"What do you mean, don't instigate me?"
There was a sharpness in his tone, a dangerous edge.
"Why are you talking about me like I'm some ticking time bomb or something?"
"You should've said 'detonate' instead of 'instigate'."
Masashi sighed, rubbing his temple.
"I just closed a massive deal, and now he's trying to lecture me about business."
Akira's smirk returned, slow and deliberate.
"Three billion berries, and not even a single partner."
"So you've been keeping tabs on him even while you were in Dressrosa?"
Akira turned to her sharply.
"What do you mean by 'track'?"
"I didn't like the way you said 'track'."
Mayumi's eyes narrowed.
"I didn't like the way you spoke to him."
Mayumi met his gaze head-on.
"Whatever Masashi does, he does it for Hawthorne."
Masashi stiffened slightly.
"Listen, I don't need you defending me, alright? Just—"
His hand shot out, pushing Mayumi aside with a little too much force.
She staggered back.
A sharp slap rang through the pavilion.
Akira's hand had knocked Masashi's away, His glare burned, ice-cold and lethal.
"Hey,"