When it's time to find home, we know the way

Hattori had been sharpening his blade when a cat slunk through the bamboo, sought him out and beckoned that he followed. He recognised the scent that clung to its fur well enough to realise what was going on, but appreciated that Fuji was still attending customs despite having been gone for quite some time. He pushed through the bamboo with ease, moving quickly but not in an outright hurry, just enough to get there without making Fuji wait so long. Not that he thought she would be bothered much.

He knew she was small, but memory had not done her justice. She was home and it seemed as though she had bought offerings, as if to make up for her extended absence. Hattori was not the sort of man whose favour could be bought, but he saw her efforts for what they were; a show of good faith and manners, two things he appreciated. And it seemed she had brought quite the assortment, a bottle that contained some sort of liquid, perhaps alcohol or tea?

"Hattori Fuji. Did it go well?" He greeted.