Page 39 of Mercy Written in Blood

"What does the symbol mean?" he asked.

Minamoto stared at the circle.

"I've seen it once."

"Where?"

"In a private collection."

"What did it identify?"

"A medical refuge."

Takeda closed her eyes briefly. Haruki noticed.

"For vampires?"

Minamoto's gaze moved to the white lotus mural.

"For anyone."

Kameda spent nearly an hour documenting the journal's exterior. She photographed the cover from every angle, measured the spine and recorded the pattern of cracking in the leather. She tested the air around it. She examined the dust beneath the lower edge. No one rushed her.

That was the second thing Haruki noticed. Academics argued over everything — he had seen enough university committees attached to city projects to know that much, debating terminology, ownership, access and credit before work had even begun. Here, none of them argued. Not really. Each time someone approached the journal, their voice lowered. Each time Kameda adjusted a tool, Minamoto watched. The caution had moved beyond professional care. It had become ritual.

Haruki stood opposite them.

"What happens if you open it?"

Kameda looked up.

"We learn what is inside."

"That isn't what I asked."

Her hands paused. Minamoto answered.

"We may prove several things people have spent centuries denying."

Haruki looked at him.

"What things?"

"That coexistence was not an accident."

Professor Takeda moved sharply.

"Satoru."

"No," Minamoto said. "He found it. He has a right to understand why it matters."

"That is not your decision."

"It became my decision when the chamber was opened."

Haruki almost laughed — the same argument Ken and Daichi had made that morning. Different people, different stakes, identical conviction.

"What was denied?" Haruki asked.