Page 134 of Mercy Written in Blood

"Gift?"

Renji hesitated.

"Something like that."

Haruki looked at the blade, then at him.

"There are a lot of dead people in this apartment."

The statement contained no accusation. Renji joined him beside the sword.

"Yes."

"And no living ones."

"Until tonight."

Haruki's eyes met his. Renji had not meant to say it. Or perhaps he had. The air between them changed. No hospital monitors. No café table. No one else near enough to turn the moment into a joke.

Haruki stood less than an arm's length away, close enough that Renji could see the faint scar near his jaw, the slight shadow of exhaustion beneath his eyes, the pulse moving steadily at his throat. Human. Brief. Alive.

Haruki did not move closer. That restraint affected Renji more than confidence would have.

"Thank you for letting me stay," Haruki said.

"You did bring dinner."

"So this was payment."

"Partially."

"And the rest?"

Renji looked towards the room — the empty containers, the record left on the player, the second bowl beside his own. Evidence of another person that would remain after Haruki left.

"I have not decided."

Haruki smiled.

"Will you?"

"Possibly."

"I'll take that."

He reached for his coat. Renji helped him into it before considering whether the gesture was necessary. Haruki's shoulders settled beneath the wool. Renji's hands remained near the collar for one second too long. Haruki turned slightly. They were closer now. Neither spoke. Renji could hear the rain. Haruki's breathing. His own, unnaturally measured.

Then Haruki stepped back. Not rejection. Permission deferred. Renji was grateful. He was also not.

At the door, Haruki put on his shoes and returned the undersized slippers to their place.

"Your neighbour thinks I'm dangerous," he said.

"She thinks everyone is dangerous."

"She likes you."

"She monitors me."