The Gomonban interrogation shed was dimly lit, the air thick with tension. Heavy iron chains cnked softly in the background, the only sound breaking the silence.

  At the center of the room, restrained in those very chains, sat a man who should be dead.

  His body was battered—months of questioning had done their damage—but even in his near-broken state, there was no fear in his eyes. Just defiance. Cold, unwavering defiance.

  The Ubuyō of the Kegare.

  The Fifth Gate Captain stood before him, arms crossed, his expression grim.

  “We’ve been at this for months.” His voice was rough, edged with frustration. “And still, he refuses to speak about the Shingan.”

  Ayase exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. Then, for the first time, he spoke the prisoner’s name.

  “Hyouma.”

  Silence.

  The name lingered in the air like a heavy weight.

  Then—Ayase’s gaze flickered toward the Captain.

  “…Kusunagi.”

  The Fifth Gate Captain—Kusunagi—remained quiet, his expression unreadable.

  Ayase studied him for a moment before speaking again, voice quieter. “I thought Hyouma was a good man.” He exhaled, shaking his head. “I didn’t know this is what had become of him.”

  Kusunagi closed his eyes for a brief second, then let out a slow, heavy breath. There was a flicker of something in his face—not pity, not grief, but a deep, quiet disappointment.

  “This guy…” His voice was lower now. “He used to be one of ours.”

  Ren frowned. “You mean he defected?”

  Kusunagi nodded. “One of the ones who turned his back on us. I thought… if anyone should deal with him, it should be us.”

  Ayase, usually the first to throw in a quip, remained silent.

  It wasn’t often he respected someone’s personal call—but this? This wasn’t just an interrogation or a mission.

  This was a Fifth Gate problem.

  And Kusunagi had wanted it to stay that way.

  A beat.

  Ren broke the silence, his voice level. “So what’s the move?”

  Kusunagi’s expression hardened. He gnced over his shoulder, eyes flickering between the restrained Hiyoma and his squad.

  “I think we should kill him.”

  His words carried no malice—just a simple, firm conviction.

  “But the Elders want answers about the Shingan first.” He exhaled sharply. “So the only thing we can do is transfer him to the Jūmonbon.”

  There was something bitter in the way he said it.

  It was clear. He didn’t like this. He didn’t want to hand over this battle to someone else.

  This was a Fifth Gate matter.

  It should have been handled in the Fifth Gate.

  But orders were orders.

  Silence stretched.

  Then—

  A voice cut through the tension.

  Watari.

  “Well…” He exhaled, scanning the room. His gaze moved between Ayase, Yumi, Kaito, Ren, Ryuko.Then, to the Fifth Gate elites—Amano, Jiro, Tetsuo.

  A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

  “We may not all be Jūmonban…” His voice was easy, almost casual. “…but you’ve got three here.”

  A pause.

  He gestured loosely toward Ayase and Yumi, then motioned toward Ren, Ryuko, and Kaito.

  “And you’ve got a few Kyūmonban elites, too.” He tilted his head. “I mean, that should count for something, right?”

  Kusunagi lifted his gaze slightly.

  For the first time in this conversation, there was something there—a flicker of hope.

  “…Yeah.” His shoulders rexed just slightly. “You might be right.”

  Watari grinned. “Only problem is…” He motioned to the chained-up Hyouma. “We’ve never really interrogated anyone before.”

  A beat.

  Ayase sighed, rubbing his temples. “I’ve been in the room while the Captain’s done it…” He waved a zy hand toward Kusunagi. “…but I’ve never done it myself.”

  Kaito snorted, cracking his knuckles. “Well—” he took a step forward, smirking, “there’s a first time for everything.”