The morning after the assassination attempt felt wrong.
Not tense measured.
Hiroto noticed it as he walked through the camp: conversations cut short when he approached, eyes tracking him not with awe or fear, but calculation. People were no longer asking what he could do.
They were asking what he would allow.
That realization sat heavy in his chest.
"They're adjusting," Masanori said quietly beside him. "Just like the clans."
Hiroto nodded. "So am I."
The messenger arrived before noon, riding hard, dust caked into his robes. He bowed quickly, breathless.
"Summons," he said, holding out a lacquered tablet bearing the Council's seal. "An emergency convocation. Kanezawa Hall."
Goro crossed his arms. "That's not how invitations work."
Masanori examined the seal. "They're invoking prerogative."
Hiroto took the tablet.
"Do I have a choice?" he asked.
The messenger hesitated. "Officially? Yes."
Unofficially, the silence answered for him.
Hiroto exhaled slowly. "We'll go."
Yui's eyes widened. "All of us?"
Hiroto shook his head. "Just me and Masanori."
Goro scowled. "I don't like that."
"I know," Hiroto said. "That's why you'll stay."
Kanezawa Hall loomed like a scar against the city stone layered atop older stone, each generation building over the last, never erasing, only burying.
Inside, the air smelled of incense and old authority.
The Council chamber was full.
Too full.
Representatives from six major clans sat along the outer tiers. Minor houses filled the gaps. Even temple officials lingered at the edges.
They had not gathered to listen.
They had gathered to define.
Hiroto stepped into the center.
The doors closed behind him.
An elder rose, robes heavy with embroidered sigils.
"Hiroto of no house," the elder intoned, "you stand accused of destabilizing regional order."
Hiroto met his gaze calmly. "By refusing to disappear?"
Murmurs rippled.
Another councilor spoke sharply. "By interfering in clan jurisdiction."
"I stopped an assassination," Hiroto replied. "In public."
"That is precisely the problem," the councilor snapped.
Masanori stiffened.
The elder raised a hand. "You have power," he said. "Unregulated. Unaligned. That invites chaos."
Hiroto nodded slowly. "So you want to regulate me."
"Yes," the elder said. "For everyone's safety."
Hiroto almost laughed.
A woman from House Kuroda stood, fan snapping shut.
"We propose a designation," she said smoothly. "An official role. Shadow Warden of Kanezawa."
The title echoed through the chamber.
"With oversight," she continued. "Boundaries. Reporting requirements."
"And obedience," Hiroto added.
The woman smiled thinly. "Cooperation."
Hiroto scanned the room.
Not one face met his eyes honestly.
They were afraid.
And fear always wanted permission to become control.
"What happens if I refuse?" Hiroto asked.
Silence.
Then the elder spoke carefully. "Then you will be declared an unstable entity."
Goro's warning echoed in Hiroto's memory.
They don't kill what they can isolate.
"And then?" Hiroto pressed.
"Movement restrictions," the elder continued. "Public warnings. Possibly sanctions."
Hiroto nodded. "You'll turn me into a disaster people must avoid."
The elder didn't deny it.
The Sovereign's pressure brushed Hiroto's awareness.
Not urging.
Not warning.
Waiting.
Hiroto felt the temptation to accept a shape, a title, a cage disguised as legitimacy.
He thought of the villagers.
The pilgrims.
The assassins.
And the line he had drawn.
"No," Hiroto said.
The word landed like a dropped blade.
The chamber erupted.
"You are reckless!"
"You endanger us all!"
"You think yourself above the law!"
Hiroto raised his voice not shouting, but steady.
"I think laws that exist only to protect power are already broken."
Silence fell sharp, stunned.
Masanori stared at him.
The elder's face hardened. "Then you leave us no choice."
Hiroto inclined his head. "I never asked for one."
The elder struck the staff once.
"By authority of the Council," he declared, "Hiroto is hereby classified as a Volatile Independent. All houses are advised to limit engagement."
A pause.
"Containment is authorized."
The words echoed.
Hiroto felt it not fear, but clarity.
They had made their move.
The doors opened.
No guards moved to stop him.
That was worse.
Masanori followed him out, face pale. "They just declared you a problem."
Hiroto nodded. "Now everyone knows where they stand."
"That makes you a target," Masanori said.
Hiroto looked back once at Kanezawa Hall.
"It makes me honest."
By evening, notices were already spreading.
Warnings. Advisories. Quiet orders.
Merchants refused service. Inns closed doors politely. Roads became complicated.
Not violence.
Pressure.
Yui clenched her fists when she heard. "They're squeezing you."
"Yes," Hiroto said. "They want me to choose between isolation and obedience."
Goro cracked his neck. "So what do we choose?"
Hiroto's shadow stretched long in the torchlight steady, unafraid.
"We move," Hiroto said. "Not away."
"Toward what?" Yui asked.
Hiroto looked north, toward lands the Council avoided.
"Toward places they don't control."
Far beyond human halls, something vast took notice.
The human had been offered safety.
Structure.
Recognition.
And refused all of it.
That was not defiance.
That was principle.
Dangerous.
The Sovereign leaned closer not to crush.
But to learn.
As night fell, Hiroto stood at the edge of the city, watching lights flicker like uncertain stars.
"They've drawn their net," Masanori said.
Hiroto nodded. "Then we'll find the gaps."
Goro grinned grimly. "Finally."
Hiroto breathed deeply, shadow calm at his feet.
Belief had failed.
Steel had failed.
Now law had spoken.
And Hiroto would answer it the only way he knew how.
By refusing to be owned.