guillotine & a razorblade

Hattori thought nothing of the stranger's softly-soft approach, all fluttering lashes and appreciative warmth as if it even meant anything. Like the loner wasn't simply just going through the motions, being polite because he might run the risk of getting his tongue torn out if he did not. Not that Hattori cared for such barbaric acts, but he loathed the intricacies of formality back home and he hated it just as much here. Being nice would never be enough to gain Hattori's favour, he was a man of action, not words.

The stranger made a show of apologies, lamenting disturbing him and it took a surprising degree of self-control not to frown and tell him to get on with it, cut to the case and get this meeting over and done with. But the Shogun did no such thing and simply listened, waited as they both went through the motions of guest and recipient. The stranger spoke of a market and Hattori concluded this meeting wasn't entirely a waste of time, though he would never say as much he was always on the look-out for offers for his wife. Shows of dedication and gifts were his love language, saying so much more than he ever could.

"What wares? He pressed, wondering whether it was worth investigating further.