Though Hattori did not mind the rain too much, even with the canopy filtering out the worst of it, it was still loud out there. He laid upon his furs, chin resting upon his extended front limbs as he stared out at the darkness. The glow of his eyes not enough to brighten his den to any real degree, but more than enough to prove that he was in fact awake, regardless of how still he was being. He did not mind sharing a den with Kiriko at this point, had only indulged her because as his wife it was proper, but also that she seemed to want to. Their marriage was...comfortable, he'd never been a man of intense passions- even with Venom it had been smouldering on his end but never an outright flame. Perhaps she'd deserved better, likely had it now either way, knowing the sort of woman she was.

He glanced to his side as he noticed Kiriko stir, had the rain woken her up too?

The life she'd pictured as a little girl had gone up in smoke, along with the life she'd known back home. This version of the story was something far better, in her eyes. Something she had control over. Something that she could and had seized for herself. Her desire to be near her husband isn't something that she bothers to hide, isn't something that she conceals. Though Kiriko retains grace, composure, she wouldn't make a secret of the warmth she showed him. Not fawning, but well. Any love she shows him is his to keep. And then there's the rains. It had been near-relentless this season, but Kiriko still can't entirely drown it out. It's the raging of the storm that draws the girl from her sleep, eyes flickering open. Fearful, as she rights herself. Drawing away from the nightmare that had threatened on the horizon, not fully formed. Kiriko stirred, whimpered quietly against it. A shaky breath as she finds herself awake in bed, curling closer to her husband. The faint glow of his eyes, open in the darkness, takes her by surprise. "It's so much colder when it rains like this,"" the words come as a whisper. Yes, she'd ah. She'd tell him she's cold and lean just a bit closer to his side, taking it as an excuse. "Speech"

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.

Tucked into Hanzo's side, she feels safer. More at ease. More at peace. Kiriko's cheek pressed flush to his shoulder, trying to center herself around the beat of his heart instead of the worries and fears of what she couldn't hear. Worries about the things that could be concealed by the steady patter of rain, and what may lurk beyond them. It doesn't matter as much, knowing she can rely on him. It's still Kiriko's job to worry. "Storms like this still make me nervous, after that night." The words are soft, Kiriko leaning heavily into the man. Trusting. More than that, she relies on him. While she doesn't love admitting it, she at least feels safe enough to do so. "Speech"

Hattori could understand, though he was not one for emotional support he could imagine it difficult. The prospect of a retaliation so soon was incredibly slim, if one came at all. Those who managed to escape were unlikely to flee back to their master with news of their failure, if they were wise they would simply fade away into the shadows. If they ever returned to Nihon they would be wise not to announce themselves, to perhaps find another line of work. "I anticipated something was amiss for some time before the attack. Tracks that vanished into nothing. Scouts who were always out of reach, moved on as soon as they were noticed near the borders and beyond." He wouldn't have gone as far to say he believed it all his fault, but he knew something was wrong and wished he'd done something more. A concrete action, preparations. Never again would they be caught so unaware, the bamboo breached, as it was that night. His own clan mates yanked from their beds, attacked at their most vulnerable. Tachi had left to try and hunt them down, would not be persuaded otherwise.  Hattori suspected the boy was embarrassed, ashamed about that night, and hadn't moved to stop him. He would return eventually. "Nothing like that will ever happen again, Kiriko. You may rest easy."