As the council meeting drew to a close, Akihiko watched his advisors file out of the room, their discussions about the unrest in the west still echoing in his ears. Akihiko felt the weight of the situation pressing down on him, and he knew that every decision he made now could either stabilise the realm or push it further into chaos.

His thoughts were interrupted when he noticed a familiar figure lingering at the door. Kaito stood there, half in the shadow, his eyes fixed on the now-empty chamber. Akihiko had seen him like this before—hovering on the edge, listening but never fully stepping in. It bothered him, this reticence from his brother.

“Kaito,” Akihiko called out, his voice carrying a note of command. “Come in here.”

As Kaito stood before him, Akihiko didn’t waste time saying,“I’ve noticed you lurking outside these meetings, Kaito. Why don’t you come in and participate?”

Kaito looked at him, his expression guarded. “I didn’t want to intrude,” he said softly. “Also I know Saito hates me. He would die before he lets me in these meetings”

Akihiko’s eyes narrowed slightly, a mix of irritation and concern flashing through them. “You’re my brother, Kaito. Whether they want to hear it or not is irrelevant. What matters is what I want, and I want you in those meetings, sharing your thoughts.”

Kaito shifted uncomfortably, his gaze flickering to the side before meeting Akihiko’s eyes again. “But do you really want to hear what I think, or are you just trying to make a point?”

Akihiko’s frustration bubbled to the surface. “Why are you questioning this? You’re not just some bystander, Kaito. You’re part of this family, this leadership. Your perspective, even if it’s… different, is something I need to hear. Or does your human blood makes you less capable of understanding what’s going on?”

Kaito’s eyes flashed with a mix of anger and hurt at the mention of his human heritage. “My blood doesn’t make me any less capable, Akihiko.”

“That’s exactly why I need you in there,” Akihiko said, his tone firm, almost pushy. “You might see things differently, but that’s valuable to me. We can’t afford to overlook anything, especially not now. I don’t want you standing outside anymore, Kaito. I want you at the table, contributing.”

Kaito clenched his jaw, clearly struggling with the intensity of Akihiko’s words. “It’s not that simple, Akihiko.”

“And I’m telling you to step out of the shadows and into the center,” Akihiko pressed, his voice softening just a fraction. “You’re my brother. You belong here, with me, in these decisions. I need you to be honest with me, to tell me what I might not want to hear, because I can’t trust anyone else to do that.”

Kaito’s expression wavered, the guardedness in his eyes giving way to something more vulnerable. “You say that now, but when I do speak up, are you really going to listen? Or will you dismiss me like everyone else?”

Akihiko stepped closer, his presence imposing, but his voice held a note of sincerity. “I’ll listen, Kaito. I need someone who sees things differently, who isn’t afraid to challenge me. But I also need you to trust that I know what’s best for our people—even if it means making difficult choices.”

Kaito looked into Akihiko’s eyes and said, “I want to trust you.”

Akihiko’s expression softened, but his determination didn’t waver. “I do trust you, Kaito. More than anyone else. But you need to trust me too. So, from now on, after every meeting, I want to hear your thoughts. Don’t hold back. We’ll talk, just you and me.”

Kaito nodded slowly, though there was still a trace of uncertainty in his eyes. “Alright. I’ll do that.”

“Good,” Akihiko said, a hint of relief in his voice. He placed a hand on Kaito’s shoulder, his grip firm but meant to be reassuring. “We’re in this together, Kaito. And I need you by my side, not lingering in the shadows.”

Kaito didn’t say anything, but he didn’t pull away either. As Akihiko removed his hand and turned to leave the chamber, he couldn’t shake the feeling that while they had taken a step forward, there was still a long way to go. The tension between them hadn’t disappeared; it had only shifted. 

“I feel that we need to get some fresh air. let's go to the market” Akihiko says.