Page 163 of Mercy Written in Blood

"You allowed someone else to."

"That is an assumption."

Kael pulled out the record. He studied the sleeve.

"Morita."

Renji said nothing.

"You dislike Morita."

"I do not."

"You called his later work sentimental."

"It is."

"This is from his later period."

Renji closed the book.

"What is your point?"

Kael turned.

"There are two cups. The chair has moved. You played music you consider emotionally manipulative."

"That is not what I said."

"And you have not once asked why I came without warning."

"You frequently appear without purpose."

"Not this early."

Renji's hand tightened around the book. Kael returned the record to the shelf. Correctly. That made the entire intrusion worse.

"Who was here?" he asked.

"No one."

Kael's eyes narrowed. Renji met them. Neither moved. Then Kael inhaled — not deeply, only enough to separate the lingering scents in the apartment. Rain. Tea. Old wood. Renji. And beneath them, faint but undeniable, the trace of cedar from Haruki's coat.

Kael became very still.

"You let Ishida into your home."

Renji's expression remained blank.

"You are mistaken."

"I met him in the warehouse less than an hour ago."

Renji's composure fractured before he could prevent it.

"Warehouse?"

There. The single word confirmed everything Renji had denied. Kael's expression turned unbearable.