The chairman looked up.
"I would have been angry."
The nephew nodded.
"I know."
"I might have removed you from your position."
More tears.
The chairman continued.
"But you would still have been my nephew."
For a moment, the younger man seemed unable to breathe.
Then he covered his face.
The chairman's voice trembled.
"Now people have to live with what you did."
He paused.
"Including you."
The nephew nodded.
He couldn't undo the act.
He couldn't demand forgiveness.
And he couldn't make the consequences disappear simply because the man he'd endangered still cared about him.
For several seconds, they sat quietly.
Then the chairman stood.
Before leaving, he looked toward his nephew one final time.
"I hope you learn to tell the truth before you're afraid of it."
The younger man lowered his head.
And the chairman walked away.
The elderly tea master also struggled with guilt.
He hadn't introduced anything into the matcha.
The investigation didn't establish that he knew of the planned contamination.
But he remembered noticing several unusual requests concerning the final serving.
The nephew insisted that the chairman's bowl be placed in a particular position.
He asked whether the serving order could be adjusted.
And he seemed unusually interested in which staff members would be present.
At the time, the tea master thought the requests reflected ordinary preferences from a demanding family.
He'd worked in luxury hospitality long enough to know that wealthy guests sometimes insisted on unnecessary details.
But after the incident, he wondered whether he should have questioned them.
He approached Naomi one afternoon while she was preparing for service.
For a moment, he stood quietly beside the tea station.
Then said.
"I've been thinking about that night."
Naomi looked toward him.
She nodded.
The older man continued.
"I noticed things I didn't understand."
She listened.
He explained the unusual requests.
Then lowered his eyes.
"I told myself they were harmless because the instructions came from the chairman's family."
Naomi felt a familiar ache.
She understood.
The entire incident had been shaped by assumptions about authority.
The chairman believed his nephew could be trusted.
The tea master believed a family executive's requests didn't require scrutiny.
And Naomi almost remained silent because the people sitting at the table were wealthy enough to threaten her employment.
She looked toward the elderly man.
"You didn't know what he intended."
He nodded.
"That's true."
Then he sighed.
"But I want to do better next time."
Naomi smiled gently.
"So do I."
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then he reached toward a clean ceramic bowl.
He placed it on the tray.
And asked whether she'd help him review the restaurant's procedures for unusual guest requests affecting food and drink service.