Page 373 of Mercy Written in Blood

"There what?"

"The mask."

Renji became still. Haruki looked towards the ceiling.

"You touch me because you need to know I'm alive. Then you stop the moment it feels like something else."

"I was checking your temperature."

"You have a monitor for that."

"The monitor measures core temperature indirectly."

"Renji."

"You should rest."

"No."

Haruki's voice contained no force. It did not need to. Renji looked towards the door.

"I need to speak with Mori."

"He can wait."

"The prisoners—"

"Can wait."

"Riku's safety—"

"Ken is handling it."

"The Archive materials—"

"Are behind six locked doors, three Accord officers and Akiko, who I now believe may be the most dangerous person in this building."

Renji did not answer.

Haruki looked at him.

"You have spent centuries making yourself useful enough that no one can ask you to remain for any other reason."

The words entered cleanly. No anger to blunt them. No accusation he could reject as unfair. Renji walked towards the window. The curtains were closed. There was no view to occupy him. Only his reflection in dark glass. Bloodless face. Black shirt. Posture unbroken. Doctor Takahara. Last heir of a murdered family. The man who could stop a heart without raising his voice. Anything except the thing Haruki had asked for. Just Renji.

"You nearly died," Renji said.

"Yes."

"You died."

"I know."

"No." Renji turned. "You do not."

Haruki held his gaze.

"I remember enough."