The company also began correcting inaccurate statements circulated during the negotiations.
Certain representatives were removed from the project.
Internal approval procedures were revised.
And the matter became part of a wider governance review.
Masaru remained wealthy.
He still controlled significant business interests.
He did not suddenly lose every hotel, investment, or property he owned.
But the project he'd expected to dominate was no longer under his exclusive direction.
And the independent directors demanded changes he had resisted for months.
Kenji eventually resigned from his advisory position.
He told Amara that leaving had been one of the hardest decisions of his career.
"I spent twenty years believing loyalty meant defending the chairman."
She looked toward him.
"And now?"
He smiled sadly.
"Now I think loyalty should have included telling him when he was wrong."
Amara considered.
"Perhaps you did eventually."
Kenji shook his head.
"Too late for some things."
She didn't argue.
He had stayed silent during years of behavior he now regretted.
But he had also taken action when it became clear that the company's representations were creating serious problems.
Amara respected that.
Before leaving Kyoto for a new position, Kenji requested one final dinner at Kiyomizu Hana.
Not a business meeting.
Not a negotiation.
Just dinner.
He came alone.
Wore a simple dark jacket.
And sat in the same room where the billionaire had humiliated Amara.
Ayaka prepared a seasonal menu.
Maiko oversaw the service.
And Kenta introduced the dishes with the confidence he'd developed over months of practice.
Kenji listened carefully.
He asked thoughtful questions.
Complimented the food.
And treated the staff with quiet courtesy.
When Amara entered near the end of the meal, he rose.
She smiled.
"Please sit."
He did.
For a moment, they looked toward the garden.
Then Kenji said, "I think I finally understand why you wouldn't sell."
Amara raised an eyebrow.
"Because of the food?"
He smiled.
"Partly."
He looked toward the shoji screens.
"But mostly because of the people."
Amara nodded.
Kenji continued.
"The chairman believed the restaurant's value could be separated from the people who created it."
She considered.
"That's a common mistake."
He looked toward her.
"And an expensive one."
Amara laughed softly.
Then he reached into his pocket.
He removed a small folded card.
"I found this while clearing my office."
She accepted it.
It was a menu from Kiyomizu Hana dated nearly thirty years earlier.
The paper had yellowed.
Hiroshi's handwriting appeared near the bottom.
Amara stared.
"Where did you get this?"
Kenji smiled.
"My father brought me here when I was young."
She looked up.
"He did?"
Kenji nodded.
"It was the first expensive meal I ever ate."
He laughed softly.