stormy weather

Hattori listened, quiet and stern, gaze cold as he looked down upon her. The story that fell from her lips was not an uncommon one, but tragic all the same, no matter how many times it was told. There would never be true peace in Nihon, Hattori had realised long ago, it was simply the nature of the land and its people. Like a curse had settled into the bones.

"Hattori Hanzo." He paused then a moment, Tojo was a refuge of sorts, but not a charity. To take in the crestfallen and those down on their luck was not against what Tojo stood for, but would it be worth it in the long run? He did wonder... "Tojo can take you in, but what can you offer us?"