Page 182 of Mercy Written in Blood

He looked at her.

"Haruki did not tell us."

"I know."

"And Hiroshi will not repeat it."

Renji glanced towards him. The older man placed one hand over his heart.

"I understand secrets."

"You told three separate newspapers where Haruki attended university."

"They asked politely."

"That was not a secret."

"It was at the time."

Haruki rubbed one hand over his face.

"Hiroshi."

The older man's amusement faded. He looked at Renji again — properly this time, not as a curiosity, but as someone standing unprotected inside a house that was not his own.

"You have my word," he said.

The shift in him was absolute. The foolish uncle disappeared. In his place stood a man who had survived decades within the Ishida Family and understood the cost of misplaced trust.

"I will tell no one."

Renji studied him. Human promises were fragile. That did not make them meaningless.

"Thank you," he said.

Hiroshi nodded once. Then he picked up the spoon.

"So, do you drink wine?"

"Yes."

"Excellent. Ayako bought an expensive bottle and hid it from me."

Reina stared at him.

"You were not supposed to know about that."

"I know everything in this house."

"You just burned rice in it."

"One does not diminish the other."

The tension broke. Not entirely. Enough. Haruki remained close to Renji, his shoulder nearly touching Renji's.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"You did not tell them."