traditional crafts and tuesday afternoons

Kiriko was strange and somehow not. Familiar and yet it was as though her true visage was hidden by a mask, one that wore a smile that didn't reach the eyes. Everyone was entitled to their secrets, Hattori had thoughts he'd never utter aloud to anyone, alive or dead, and yet the thought stuck with him. Made him wonder in ways other wolves did not. It often felt like he only saw Kiriko from afar, that the fine details would always be blurry and unfocused, that she would never let alone close. But why?

"Hm." He fell into silence then, letting it linger like a fog settling around them. His brows furrowed, the more he spoke to her, the more she inevitably revealed. Snippets at a time. He didn't mistrust her, or else he would have said something sooner and yet... "And what if your problems follow you here?"