Page 244 of Mercy Written in Blood

"Of course you do."

"It is historically significant."

"It's a rock your sister insulted you with."

"That is historical context."

Haruki laughed. Renji's mouth moved faintly. The expression vanished quickly — not from fear this time, from the weight attached to the memory.

"What happened after they died?" Haruki asked.

Renji looked down.

"I stopped observing it."

"Immediately?"

"I do not remember."

Haruki believed him. That was the part that hurt. Renji could recall his sister's scar and his mother's recipe. He could remember the exact shape of gifts received nearly a thousand years earlier. But the day itself had dissolved. No one had remained to tell him it mattered. So he had stopped.

"How old are you tomorrow?" Haruki asked.

Renji gave him a flat look.

"You know the year."

"I want to hear you say it."

"No."

"Why?"

"Because you will be pleased with yourself."

"I'm already pleased with myself."

"That is rarely in question."

Haruki began counting mentally. Renji saw it.

"Haruki."

"Nine hundred and—"

"Do not calculate it."

"Why?"

"Because you will be pleased with yourself."

Haruki smiled.

"You look good."

"That statement is absurd."

"For nine hundred and ninety-eight."