Maybe It's Bad Luck. Maybe It's Fate.

Hattori let Ochitsuki speak, faintly realising that it might have sounded like an accusation. And perhaps it had been, after all Kiriko had sowed the seeds of mistrust in his mind-he was an honest man and had taken Kiriko at her word. He had no reason not to, and she'd taken full advantage of that fact, a thought that made his brows furrow, his displeasure lingering and curt. But his anger was misplaced, logically he knew that and in all things he strived to be reasonable (enough) and fair, but in this case?

Simply put, he was pissed; his ego wounded.

He exhaled, forcing a look of neutrality that didn't sit quite right on the sternness of his features.

"Very well," which was to say he believed her, as much as he could manage right now at least.

No doubt she was a woman of talents and it was no exaggeration that she could find purpose within the Bamboo if she so chose. With a flick of his tail he gestured for her to follow, to fall in step beside him.

"What duties did you attend to in Valta?"