tolerance is his love language

Hattori rumbled in his throat, agreeing with that sentiment. Auster would never get quite as cold as the frigid north, but on some nights there was certainly a bite to the air, enough that someone as delicately built as Kiriko could certainly feel it. He allowed her to cuddle close if she wished, he felt no distaste for it, as he would if someone else were to step into his personal space. Make assumptions he'd be quick to correct. She shifted closer and he exhaled, the movement markedly slow, an exaggerated show of ease.

"Is that all that is bothering you?" He wasn't entirely convinced that was the case. The night was dark, the unknown hung like unspoken questions in the air, slipping through the tapping rain. Could hide approaching paw steps just as easily. They hadn't really discussed the siege, given that Hattori was under the impression her silence on the topic was deliberate. It wasn't hard to presume how she felt about it, even the barest scraps of empathy were enough to put together a collage of feelings and thoughts that likely swirled in her mind. But as far as he was concerned, there was no need for guilt or shame, Tojo protected their own and it was about as simple as that.