Across the room leaning with his back to the wall facing the scene was another pair of eyes studying the entire situation carefully. Few knew of the Shogun's constant personal bodyguard, so trained are the Hatamoto in the arts of subtlety. As soon as Hirotada Watanabe had left the manor after their meeting, Izu had followed, tailing at a respectable distance and blending in after Hirotada-san had entered. Such a feat is usually not difficult, particularly with a stunning kimono-wearing young woman in the bar. As such no one even spared a glance for the undercover Daimyo.
Now he watched them all intently, silently. Watching for instructions, the subtle hand signals and facial gestures used in combinations to give instructions to personal bodyguards without drawing notice. A double scratch of the left cheek. Didn't that mean immediate extraction? The confirming scratch never came though - Hiro was joking with him, he mused, being able to have a completely separate conversation with him with just one hand.
And so he watched, gently relaxing his grip on his Nodachi beneath his thick black robes.