Just as quickly as they'd come, it seemed that everything was... still. Everything was quiet. Kiriko didn't know how to process it, only that an eerie feeling had settled in her chest. Over her system. She didn't tremble, but she thought about it maybe a little. Though the situation had shaken her, though she still bled slowly from her wounded rear leg... it could have been worse. She was still breathing. It seemed to her that everyone else was too. That was... all Kiriko could ask for. Though the others needed to be tended, there was no lack of competent healers within the Tojo-kai ranks. In these moments, she has eyes only for Hattori. She stands on her toes to speak in a confidential tone, to his ears only. "You are wounded, let me help." Kiriko's words are silken, but she's not going to be argued with. Not here, not now, not about this. She owed him... much. Based on the events of the evening, more than much. All of it. It could be dealt with later, though. For now, Hattori was injured and she was going to fix it. "Speech"

Hattori was wounded, but he didn't want to admit as much. His forehead was sticky with drying blood and a throbbing headache had settled behind the steel of his eyes, pulsing along with the beating of his heart. He ought to be grateful really, that no one he cared for had died. This could have ended terribly, it was a damn near miracle that this awful night hadn't gone any worse, and he was kicking himself for not seeing this coming, Kiriko had warned him as much and despite all his extra efforts they'd been taken by surprise. Defences breached, the long and winding corridors navigated as though they had inside knowledge. He did not think Tojo had a traitor, but the thought had briefly occurred to him, for a moment before he'd discarded it with other grumblings.

He eyed Kiriko for a moment, brows in a perpetual state of furrowing. Hattori was in a bad mood, but could you blame him? Exhaling slowly, like it took real effort he turned to her, somewhat reluctantly.

"If you insist."

She didn't hold the bad mood against him-- how could she? The red koi steps lightly, reaching up to lightly dab at Hattori's head wound. It's gentle, her touch tender. The long, slow sigh and the deeply troubled expression didn't escape her. Kiriko is soft in this moment, perhaps more than she means to be. The fear and anxiety would be slow to leave her system. Looking to Hattori for strength seemed reasonable, logical. Looking to him for comfort may have been like trying to draw blood from a stone, but if there was any night she needed it badly enough to try... "I do." Carefully, she begins leading them back towards the den they'd begun sharing. The one that Kiriko was perhaps still shy to admit they shared-- though maybe a bit of pride hung about her tonight. He'd kept them safe. He'd protected them all. "Tell me what hurts," her voice is quiet. The question only comes when she feels they're sufficiently in private. Kiriko would be the only one to know his pains. Maybe there's a little pride in that too. Close enough to support him, should he need it, and then settling into their den. At once, she set about gathering supplies, tools, to best tend her guardian. "Speech"

Hattori followed her back to the den, his steps slower than usual, the weight in his shoulder heavier. It had been a long night and he imagined it would feel longer still, as there was little chance that he would be able to sleep after this. All the adrenaline still coursed through his veins, as tense as a bowstring pulled taut. It wasn't Kiriko's fault, he knew as much, but perhaps in that moment he was not regarding her with the due respects and kindness she deserved. She was only trying to help, logically he knew as much.

He grunted at her question, ears flicking.

"My head." He clarified, assuming that was his only real injury. Scrapes and bruises would heal on their own, the less she had to fuss over the better, frankly.

They move together, in time. She wants to be there to catch him, just in case. Kiriko knows that he probably doesn’t need it, but she needs to feel needed. He only grumbles, only offers a little bit in response. It’s okay— she’s been around enough men with heavy responsibilities to know. It’s okay.

Gently, Kiriko begins to clean out the wound propertly. Her touch soft beneath his chin, and lingering on his forehead. Holding the beast still and steady while she tends to the wound, washing away any trace of the attackers lingering left within. Though she’s shy to make eye contact, her gaze does linger on his face. Studying him, acutely aware of herself in the space. Perhaps that awareness is why she moves the way she does— Kiriko making each step silken. “Thank you for keeping me safe.” She speaks quietly when the words finally come, a breath away from Hattori.

Hattori did not want her gratitude, did not expect it either but he knew reasonably that it was the proper thing to do. Had she sought out the protection of another pack would they have kept her safe as Tojo had? It was hard to say and perhaps she was aware of how badly things could have gone, perhaps that would explain the slight edge to her tone and actions. A softness that opposed all he was familiar with.

“It had to be done.” He said, not purposefully being so aloof. He had no love for the past emperor or his kin really, loyalty had only been lip service back in Nihon, but he saw no need for her to die.  It would have been a waste really.

The wound stung but not enough for him to hiss or pull away from here touch. It was tolerable, compared to the intolerable night itself.

She's trying. Perhaps she's trying harder than she has, but tonight was... different. The things that had gone on, that had transpired between them, they weren't easy. They weren't small. Though Hattori may have seen it as a duty, Kiriko is firmly in the camp that duty was something that she had-- not something that applied to her. The very nearness of him weighs more heavily on her mind than it perhaps ever has. Something about it drew her in. Kiriko's heart squeezed in her chest. Was intoxicating the right word? Was she even allowed to feel this way? She couldn't let her professionalism slip, not as she finished tending to the wound. Still, her touch is lingering and tender. First cleaning the wound, then smoothing a salve over it. It would be enough to help keep the wound moist and protected overnight. In the morning she'd need to repeat the process. Twice a day, morning and evening, for as long as it took. "You take good care of everyone, when was the last time you had someone take care of you?" The words come softly, loaded as they are. Breathed in the space between them, scant as it is. The healer's touch slipped lightly down his neck, lingering, reluctant to pull away. Perhaps she'd finally made her move. "Speech"

Hattori said nothing for a long and lingering moment. What a question to ask, when was the last time he’d let his guard down? Let anyone  even get remotely close? Seasons ago, perhaps and in hindsight it felt like a mistake- something he shouldn’t have done but it was too late to change that now. Decisions to look back on and think never again, not to be shallowed into someone else’s whole. Just a cog in the machine. Another brick in the wall.

Venom. She was the last person he’d let in, and some might say he had shot himself in the foot.

“Why? Is that what you want?” He asked, noticing how her touch lingered, sensual almost. Persuasive.

She lingers. Kiriko allows herself to remain only a breath away, firmly within Hattori’s personal space. Not stepping back, instead allowing her touch on his neck to remain. She traces softly down, from neck to chest. Touch growing more bold, as she hasn’t been rebuked yet.

”Of course it’s what I want. Only the best for you.” The words are honeyed, hanging thickly in the chilly evening air. Was the confidence speaking? To an extent. On top of that, though, Kiriko views it as truth and truth alone. She looks up to Hattori’s eyes now, meeting his gaze. Something alight here, a little spark that Kiriko could only hope to feed. Looking up at him from her lower position, and damn near holding her breath.

Hattori was still. He should have pushed her away, declined whatever she was working up to offering. But he didn’t. He was no fool and though in many ways he came across as socially dense, it was merely his disinterest in it that made it seem so. He was not questioning her intentions, he trusted her as much as he trusted anyone else who called Tojo home and yet…

Hattori exhaled, side eyed her for a moment.

“Hm.” Was all he said, or grunted really. Not pushing her away, as he probably should. At the end of the day he was just a man, despite all he made himself out to be.

He is just a man. Perhaps it's in Kiriko's blood-- men. The way she understands them, near instinctual. After all, isn't that what she should be doing? Appealing to him, appealing to his instincts. Appealing to his very nature as a man. Appealing to him. Demure, composed, reserved... all the things Tori knows her to be. Appeal to his mind, and then? Well, most of them were the same. Though she wasn't a trained courtesan as her mother had been, there are some things that come rather naturally. Kiriko fits her face into his neck, leans into him. Taking a chance, being awfully bold but then, the red koi needed to be confident in herself. Hattori hadn't rejected her, he hadn't pushed her away. It's now that she allows herself to take her leap of faith and take what she's decided she wants. Him. ---- fade "Speech"