The air in the Fujiwara mansion's living room was taut, as if invisible threads held everyone in this silent tension. Everyone sat in soft, expensive chairs, yet even the luxurious interior couldn't soften the oppressive atmosphere. After everything that had happened, no one could find the words. It seemed that if someone spoke, reality itself would tear open again, unleashing another wave of chaos.
Keito stood a little apart from the others. His hands were deep in his pockets, his posture relaxed, but his gaze was sharp, penetrating the distance. He stared out into the courtyard through the slightly open glass door, where the remnants of smoke still lingered in the air after the recent clash. Beneath this calm, there was something inexplicable, yet no one dared to ask.
The silence was first broken by Takatsu."I don't even know how to thank you again, Lord Shigero…" His voice trembled, not from fear, but from realizing how close death had been. "For the second time, you've saved me and my family."
He bowed his head in gratitude. The others, as if released from a chain, immediately followed suit. Voices filled the room — quiet, sincere, a mix of shock and respect.
But Keito didn't even turn around. His gaze remained fixed on the sky beyond the glass. He exhaled slowly, then turned and walked through the room at an unhurried pace. The floor creaked beneath his steps, yet he moved as if he weighed no more than a shadow.
Silently, he approached the sideboard, took the remote, and pressed a button.
On the huge screen, the image of a news channel flickered to life. Bold headlines blared: "Breaking News! Unprecedented Clash in the City Center!" The camera showed the spot where flames had raged just moments before. Journalists, their voices anxious and overlapping, struggled to make sense of what had happened.
— "Dear viewers, this is unbelievable! Something occurred in the heart of the city today that defies logic! Just look at these shots!"
The screen flickered with video. A shaky phone camera captured Keito emerging from the fire, and then — the very moment he rose above the ground, carrying the Fujiwara family with him.
— "These clips have already gone viral worldwide! People are demanding answers! Who is he? What is that red energy? How can someone simply… hover in mid-air?"
Next, footage of his strike appeared. A red beam incinerating everything in its path, explosions, shattered asphalt. The studio crew looked utterly stunned.
— "This isn't just technology! This is something beyond human comprehension! The government remains silent! The military refuses to comment! Citizens are demanding answers!"
Keito tilted his head slightly. Too much noise. As always.
He didn't utter a single word. He simply tossed the remote back onto the table and returned to his seat. The entire room watched him, waiting for any kind of comment.
But he remained silent.
And that silence spoke louder than words.
— Not good.
Two short, heavy words cut through the tense quiet hanging in the room. Keito's voice was even, almost lazy, yet it carried a hidden weight.
— "Huh?" Takatsu blinked in confusion, then cautiously asked, "What do you mean, sir?"
Keito tilted his head slightly, as if weighing whether to explain the obvious, and then finally said:
— I've revealed myself to the world.
A grave silence fell over the room.
— The elders won't be pleased.
The words didn't sound like a complaint or regret — more like a dry statement of fact. No emotion, no fear. Yet everyone in the room felt a strange chill run through them.
Takatsu swallowed hard. He thought of the elders being spoken of and began to understand: if even someone like Keito believed they could be "unpleased", then this was truly serious.
Somewhere in the distance, the television continued to roar with the voices of reporters, commentators, and experts trying to make sense of what had happened. But in this room, inside the Fujiwara mansion, it suddenly became unbearably quiet.
Like the calm before a storm.
The remote slipped from his hand and hit the floor with a dull thud, flipping a couple of times. The TV screen continued to flash with alarming headlines, but Keito no longer paid any attention.
He exhaled — not in irritation, not in anger, but with a kind of lazy weariness, as if this was something inevitable, long predicted.
Without saying a word, he turned and walked slowly toward the exit.
His footsteps were soft, yet in the silence of the room they sounded thunderous.
Every gaze followed him, but no one dared to speak. Words got stuck in their throats — because everyone understood: something had changed. Not just for him, but for everyone caught in this whirlwind of events.
When the door closed behind him, the room was left with only silence and the sense of something inevitable.