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After almost three years with Kagura’s family, Rin is given to Hatori.
It’s decided that with her questionable health he’d be a safer option, and besides, Hatori had already proven himself plenty with raising Momiji. He’s also finally graduated medical school, and Rin is considered old enough to manage herself without Hatori being constantly present. However, the most important factor in the decision seemed to be Akito. Rin’s constant comings and goings where whispered about among the maids. They didn’t like that she skipped school or the way she dressed. And when all of this was brought up to Kagura’s mother, she stared the maids down and told them that if they didn’t like it, they could take it up with the head of the household.
Nobody expected them to actually do it, and certainly nobody expected Rin to be taken away. But Hatori lived in the depths of the main house, further from the gate than Kagura, closer to Akito for when he’s needed. Hatori, who only a month ago lost his eye and Kana in one fell swoop.
Nobody needs to say what this clearly is— a punishment for all involved. Rin for her behavior, Kagura’s mother for defying the family, and Hatori for ever thinking that he could have a life free of the Jyuunishi.
Rin had never lived with only Jyuunishi before, and at first the constant feeling of the bond between them has her feel edgy. She can feel it pressing at her all the time, and although for many of the Jyuunishi the feeling of each other is a comfort, she’s afraid to lose herself in it.
Momiji is shockingly clingy with Hatori, but he respects Rin’s boundaries. He doesn’t hug her, and when he’s going to touch her, he’s careful to do it so she can see it coming. Momiji is young, and Rin thinks Hatori must have spoken to him about it before she moved in.
Rin is still wary of both of them. She knows them well enough— Momiji is a friend of Haru’s. Hatori is her doctor, and one of Shigure’s best friends. Still, the sounds of their footfalls, them moving through the house— it sets her on edge. One day Momiji gets upset and breaks a plate, and she hides in her room until Hatori calls Shigure to come calm her down.
Momiji’s moods weren’t something Rin was privy to previously. She’s always known him as bubbly and sweet, although it makes sense given the outright rejection by his mother. Still, she doesn’t expect the way he gets frustrated and bursts into tears, automatically reaching for Hatori when he’s upset. He doesn’t seem to get angry, really. Just very, very sad. It happens infrequently enough that she’s still surprised by it, but Hatori seems resigned to it and holds him until he stops crying.
It only happens once when Hatori is gone, off attending to Akito. Rin finds Momiji standing in the kitchen, tears streaming silently down his face. She pulls him over to the couch and sits him down, fumbles for the remote and turns on the TV to continue whatever movie he had started last night. Finally, she reaches down and very carefully holds his hand.
Momiji keeps crying, and Rin watches the show without really seeing it. When Hatori comes home, Momiji is sleeping, his mouth open because his nose is so stuffed up from his crying jag. He gently pries Momiji’s hand from Rin’s and carries him off to bed. Once he has Momiji settled, he comes back and ruffles Rin’s hair. “Thank you.” He tells her. She just nods and looks at her feet.
Rin is aware that Momiji doesn’t technically live with Hatori, not the way she does. She’s not sure why the distinction is there, and when she asks Hatori and Shigure why, Hatori tells her that with her health, the family would prefer that someone is there to explicitly keep an eye on her.
What he doesn’t tell her is that he’s also there to keep her parents away from her, and that the family considers her something of a flight risk. Although she’s never attempted to run away, Hatori understands why they would expect it of her. She’s frightened and restless. She's started experimenting with darker clothing and even shorter hemlines, and Hatori sees the way the maids look at her with disapproval. One of them asks Hatori if he plans on talking with her about it, and he does not. Rin has been given very little control over her own life— being allowed to choose her own clothing is something she deserves at this point. It would be much harder to take a child from Hatori than from Kagura’s family.
Still, seeing the way some of the male family members look at Rin makes Hatori itch with the need to do something about it. Despite all her clothing choices, she’s still a child.
Her nightmares aren’t as bad as they were when she was first hospitalized, but they’re still difficult. She doesn’t wake herself up screaming too often, but she does wake up— Hatori will hear her wandering around the house at all hours, and more than once he’s woken up before work to find her laying on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and thumbing through one of his medical textbooks. He’ll take one look at her and the bags under her eyes and know that she hasn’t slept a wink.
And then he’ll make them both coffee and drive her to school.
A few times he finds Momji in her bed, or her in his. He’s comforted by knowing that there’s clearly nothing sensual about it— they’re both always dressed in their pajamas, asleep with their hands tangled together. They both have trouble sleeping, so it’s nice to know that they take comfort in each other. Having both been outright rejected by their mothers has left them untethered in a way he doesn’t feel entirely equipped to handle.
Kagura’s mother calls frequently, and Hatori gets the impression that they really did try to integrate Rin into the family, but Rin just wasn’t ready for it. Having a real family unit was upsetting for her, too familiar for her to ever feel comfortable. Hatori dutifully answers questions about how she’s doing. When Rin first moved in with Kagura’s family, Hatori received plenty of similar phone calls. Her mother would call and ask Hatori if it’s normal— if it’s normal that Rin won’t eat with the family, or stays in her room all the time, or skips school and keeps strange hours. Hatori had originally attributed it to depression and trauma, but he’s surprised to see that the issues persist. Part of him had hoped that being apart of a whole family would help her heal.
She doesn’t stay in her room as much as she did at Kagura’s, but she still won’t eat with him or Momiji. She still has strange hours, and would probably skip school much more often if Hatori didn’t drive her there and then sit in his car until he saw her enter the school building.
Rin’s weight yo-yos a dangerous amount, and Hatori swears she looks okay one week and then practically skeletal the next. One night she passes out after standing up from the couch, and Hatori makes her sit at the table and eat some soup. She cries while she eats it, and later he holds back her hair when she vomits it up.
They try to work out a better system for figuring out when she’s hungry or sick, but Rin hates talking about it and Hatori doesn’t like pushing her. He makes her a lot of plain rice and tofu, and she doesn’t seem to mind eating that. He wishes he could give her more vegetables and meat, but she seems to have trouble with that the most, so he settles for giving her vitamins in the morning, and a banana if she feels like she can handle it. When she’s feeling unwell just about anything can make her vomit. Hatori tries giving her antiemetics, but they make her so tired that it usually ends up with her laying her head on the toilet and crying half-heartedly as she vomits into it. It’s the only time she lets him hold her while she throws up. Once she’s done, she’ll slump into him sniffle, weaving in and out of wakefulness.
At times like this, Hatori finds himself irritated, sitting on the floor of his bathroom with her half-asleep curled in his lap. Two years with Kagura’s family, and she still literally worries herself sick. She still has nightmares, jumps at the sounds of other people, cries at odd times. She used to be much worse, he reminds himself. He remembers being worried that she would kill herself. But he gave her to Kagura’s family for two whole years, and it still doesn’t seem like much has changed.
Maybe she should have gone to Shigure. Two years ago, he had vouched for Kagura’s mother, had listened when Shigure had quietly refused to take Rin.
“Ha’ri?”
Hatori looks up. Momiji is standing in the doorway to the bathroom, looking at them both warily. Hatori sighs internally, hoping Momiji doesn’t need help with homework or a snack.
“What is it?”
“Should I get some water?”
“…Yes, please.”
Momiji scampers off, and returns not too long later with a glass of water. He hands it carefully to Hatori.
“Is she okay?”
“She’s sick.” Hatori says. “It might be better if you stay with Haru tonight.”
“Okay.” Momiji has gotten extremely good at rolling with the punches when it comes to Rin, and Hatori is grateful for his flexibility when it comes to her. He sometimes worries that Momiji feels displaced, but if he harbors any sort of resentment towards Rin it’s extremely well-hidden. Momiji had needed a lot of comfort when he had first been left behind by his mother— perhaps he recognizes that same pain in Rin. Hatori waits until he hears Momiji on the phone in the other room, and then he carefully nudges Rin awake.
“Isuzu.” He murmurs. She stirs.
“Tori-nii?”
“Have some water.”
"I can't." She mumbles.
“Isuzu. Please.”
She opens her eyes, and stares dully at the wall for a moment before looking up at Hatori. She shakes her head.
He understands her aversion, but it doesn't make it any easier. He sets the glass aside. If she really does get too dehydrated, they'll deal with it later.
“Let’s get you to bed.”
She lets him lift her into a standing position, and leans heavily on him as he tries to get her out of the bathroom. She stiffens suddenly.
“Isuzu?”
“Tori—“ She cries, and then she stumbles to the side, and doubles over and vomits into the sink. She starts crying again, harder this time, and Hatori just watches, suddenly feeling very out of his depth. The medical nature of it all doesn’t bother him, but the knowledge that Rin is his charge, and sick and upset, and he only knows what to do about one of those things—
Momiji is much easier. He just needs to be held.
Hatori brushes her bangs away from her face as she cries into the sink. He grabs the hand towel and wipes at the snot and drool on her face from vomiting. He wants her to try and have some water, but knows that there’s no way she would agree to it. He’s lucky in one respect— Rin gets sick often enough that she’s gotten her transformations slightly more under control. He doesn’t need to worry about her turning into a horse right now.
“Come here.” Hatori murmurs, carefully lifting her away from the sink. She’s shaking, badly, and leans against him as he walks her to her bedroom. She feels so frail.
Hatori has put her to bed countless times. The motions are familiar and methodical as he helps her into bed, pulls the covers over her, brushes her hair away from her face. Checks her temperature. Leaves some water on her nightstand.
At least the antiemetics help her sleep.
She does start getting better, though. Under his watchful eye, Rin starts gaining more weight, and there’s more color in her cheeks. She gets sick less frequently. She’s still plagued by nightmares, and she cries the first time that Hatori dares to shout at her, after coming home from a full day watching over Akito to find that she hadn’t gone to school.
She only has one truly frightening depressive episode while with him, lasting nearly two weeks where she barely eats, and sleeps for what seems like days on end. Hatori isn’t sure what triggered it or where it came from, and when he tries to ask her she doesn’t tell him. He calls Shigure, who comes over and sits in bed with her and reads to her. Hatori stands in the doorway of her room and watches. Her head is tucked against his hip, and the covers are pulled up over her face, leaving only her hair exposed. Shigure holds the book with one hand, and strokes her hair with the other.
Afterwards, Shigure reassures him. Rin will be fine. She’s just tired.
A few days later Rin is quiet in the bathroom for too long, and Hatori is terrified that she’s hurt herself or worse. He opens the door to find her sitting in the tub, staring at the faucet, her hair swirling around her like an oil spill. She doesn’t even look at him.
He sits beside the tub and washes her hair for her.
Shigure did this for him once. He was younger, it was right after his father died. Hatori couldn’t get out of bed either. And Shigure came by, and washed his hair for him.
It feels strangely as though he’s returning the favor.
Afterwards, he helps her out of the tub and wraps a large, soft towel around her. She leans against him and he lets her, ignoring the way her hair is getting his shirt wet, ignoring her near-nudity. Her body has so often been a source of pain for her that Hatori’s not even sure she thinks of it in a sexual context anymore. At least right now, all she wants is the simple comfort of being held.
Hatori takes it as a sign of her getting better.
A few days later, he coaxes her into having some plain rice. And then some soup. He leaves a strawberry jelly in the fridge, and the next day it’s gone. A week later, he’s able to get her to go to school.
And then it’s like nothing ever happened. She never mentions it to him, and they never talk about it. And it doesn’t happen again. Hatori wants to believe it’s because she's getting better.
She gets more comfortable with him and Momiji. A year after moving in, she’ll sit at the table and eat dinner with them. She lets Momiji swipe food off of her plate, and they share snacks with each other out in the garden. Sometimes when Hatori sits in his office and works, she’ll sit in there as well, curled up on his couch and reading one of his books. Hatori offers to take her to the bookstore, but she refuses— she doesn’t mind reading his.
There are certainly times that Hatori wishes she were still with Kagura’s family. When she first gets her period (surprisingly late, given her age) she’s frightened and embarrassed, and Hatori is initially only able to offer her some medical information and a box of pads. Later, when he finds Rin curled up on the couch, he digs out a heating pad and gives her some tylenol. Hatori sits down with her, and they have a longer, more serious talk about what having her period means. The whole time he thinks about how it should have been Kagura or her mother giving Rin this talk, but when they finish Rin seems satisfied by the answers she’s been given.
Time passes, and Rin doesn’t seem to mind that there aren’t any women around. She starts drawing more, and for her seventeenth birthday Hatori gets her a notepad and a set of watercolors that Ayame recommended. She starts spending more time alone, but at least now Hatori knows that she’s doing it because she wants it to be quiet while she paints.
The first time Hatori catches Rin trying to sneak Haru out in the early morning, he just stares at them. He doesn’t want to believe that either of them would be so stupid, but then he sees the way that they stand close to each other, their fingers tangled together, the challenge in Rin’s eyes. And he sighs. “You’d better leave out the back.” He tells Haru. “You don’t want the maids seeing.”
Rin thanks him afterwards, her eyes trained on the floor, and he understands the silent question she’s asking.
“I won’t tell Akito.” He tells her. “But I won’t cover for you, either.”
“Okay.” She says.
And like that, he rarely sees Haru in his home again. He’s under no illusions about whether he’s there or not, but knows that the two of them are getting better at discretion.
He sits Rin down and they have another talk. He tells her to be careful with her body. He tells her to say ‘no’ if she wants to, to stop if someone else says it.
“It’s just a body.” Rin says hollowly.
“It’s yours, Isuzu.”
She doesn’t say anything to that. For the first time in a while, when Kagura’s mother asks how Rin is doing, Hatori keeps a secret from her.
Despite that, Rin seems to be doing better. Good, even. Haru makes her happy. She and Momiji have graduated to good-natured bickering, and when he gets upset she isn’t frightened. She’s started talking about the future more, what she wants to do, where she wants to study. Hatori gets her some pamphlets for art schools, and they look through them together. Momiji sits with them and looks too. College for him is still a few years away, but he and Rin like fantasizing about the freedom that university allows. Momiji sits at the table with her sometimes and they draw together, quietly passing colored pencils back and forth. Hatori takes a photo. He sends one copy to Shigure, another to Kagura’s mother, and the third he keeps for himself and keeps framed in his office.
Rin tags along to the culture festival at Momiji’s future school, and she looks around warily at the hubbub of a public school. She’s quiet and more reserved than Hatori has seen her in a while, and seems silently grateful when they leave. When Hatori asks her later if she enjoyed herself, she nods.
“It was loud. But they all seemed happy.”
Things are okay. He doesn’t worry about Rin like he used to. Momiji cries less and less.
And then Akito pushes Rin out of a second-story window.
Getting Rin to the hospital happens in a blur. Hatori barely breathes as Hiro tells him what happened, as he drags him to where Rin lays sprawled outside in a garden. His heart pounds as he checks her pulse. He doesn’t dare defy the rule of allowing outsiders into the main house, so he drives Rin to the hospital himself.
They carry her in on a stretcher.
He calls Shigure.
Her shoulder needs surgery. Someone mentions brain damage.
For the first time, Hatori excuses himself from the case of a family member.
Shigure leans against the bathroom sink while Hatori vomits.
Rin comes home.
She stops eating again. Her nightmares get worse. For the first time, Hatori wakes up to Rin climbing into his bed. She’s still healing, and so Hatori helps her rearrange the pillows so she can lay comfortably without hurting herself further. The summer heat doesn’t make sleeping much easier, and Hatori wakes up to her crying bitterly as she tries to lie down in a way that doesn’t hurt.
She stops painting and drawing. She starts skipping school again. Her sleeping habits get worse. She starts getting sick more often.
Hatori watches helplessly as all her hard work starts slipping away.
Haru doesn’t come by anymore, and Momiji quietly tells him that Haru went on a rampage at school.
It doesn’t take much to put two and two together. Hatori never necessarily approved of their relationship, but he saw the effect it had on Rin.
When Momiji tries to get into bed with Rin after a particularly rough day, Hatori hears Rin yell at him for the first time in a while. He watches Momiji leave her room, biting back tears. Rin has always been capable of cruelty, but he’s rarely seen it directed completely at Momiji.
She spends less and less time at home, and Hatori wonders if it’s the Main House that’s the problem, or if it’s their home in particular. Hatori is walking Akito through the main gate one day when he sees Rin just outside, watching them both, expressionless.
Hatori carefully angles Akito so Rin is hidden by his own body. He doesn’t look back at her.
Rin doesn’t come home that night.
When she comes home the next day, he doesn’t bother scolding her for not calling. She picks a fight with him over something senseless, and they end up shouting at each other for a while before Rin turns on her heel and locks herself in her room.
That night, Momiji and Hatori eat dinner together in silence. Hatori leaves a strawberry jelly in the refrigerator. The next morning, it’s still there.
Hatori doesn’t know where Rin is all day. When she skips class, she doesn't even bother dressing in her school uniform before leaving the house. He gets phone calls from her school, and quietly excuses all of her absences. He still keeps the college pamphlets tucked in a drawer in his office. He feels the distance between the two of them widening into a vast chasm, and his attempts to bridge it are met with scowls and swear words that he never taught her.
Momiji starts spending more time at Shigure’s and Haru’s. Hatori sits at the table alone, eating dinner and looking at Rin’s closed door. He’s not even sure if she’s in there. When he tries to open it, he finds that it’s locked.
“Ha-san, you should keep a closer eye on your children.” Shigure says cryptically when he stops by to visit one day.
“My children are shockingly resistant to being watched.” Hatori says. “Why, do you know something that I don’t?”
Shigure smirks. “Don’t I always?”
It takes a surprising amount of self-control not to leap across his desk and throttle Shigure, but he somehow manages it. Hatori removes his glasses and rubs at his forehead. “Either tell me what you want to say, or leave.”
“Rin-chan has been missing an awful lot of school lately.”
So that’s where she’s been going. Skipping school to spend time at Shigure’s house. “Is she eating?”
“What?” Shigure looks genuinely surprised by the question.
“When she goes to your house. Does she eat?”
“I don't think so.”
Hatori sighs. “Try to see if you can get her to eat something next time she comes by.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.” Hatori confirms.
“I thought you would be upset about her missing school.”
“I know she’s skipping school. At least now I know where she’s going.”
Shigure sighs. “Ha-san, this is less fun than I thought it would be.”
“I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I’m not.” Hatori agrees.
He doesn’t help Rin with her homework anymore. She doesn’t read on his couch or paint in the yard. She still reads, but Hatori only knows this because he watches the books from his shelf disappear and reappear. He takes a small comfort in knowing that she’s still doing that.
She gets sick and locks the bathroom door, and Hatori stands on the other side of it with a glass of water and listens to her vomit. When she finally opens the door, she brushes right past him and goes straight for her room.
Hatori is surprised by how quickly it becomes the new normal. He almost misses waking up to her getting into his bed, because at least then he knew how to comfort her.
And then one day he gets a phone call—
“Rin threw up in the living room.” Shigure says. “And passed out. She was hallucinating.”
Hallucinating.
Rin is always frightened when she hallucinates. It's difficult for her to tell what's real and isn't, and she alternates between clinging to Hatori and thinking he's her father until she hyperventilates enough to pass out.
Hatori's in his car before he even has to think about it.
Hatori sits in Shigure’s living room and drinks tea while they wait for Rin to wake up. He’d checked her vitals, and everything had been fine, although her breathing is a little shallower than he’d like.
It’s the first time he’s touched her in months.
And then Tohru tells them that she’s awake.
And then Hatori tells Rin that they should go to a hospital, and he watches as she tries to jump out a window to avoid him. He feels like he’s floating outside himself as he grabs onto her, pins her against him. He can feel her heart pounding against his hands, the way she strains as she tries to fight back.
“Isuzu.” He says, quietly enough that only she can hear him. “Isuzu, please.”
“I can’t go back to the hospital.” She says, desperately. “Tori-nii—“
“Just for a little while.” Hatori says. “And then you can come home.”
Rin tries to jerk out of his arms again. “I can’t.”
“Isuzu—“
“Rin.” Shigure steps forward. “How are you going to get anything done if you’re sick?”
Rin slowly stops struggling. She doesn’t look at Shigure, she won’t look at Hatori.
Shigure continues. “If you want us to leave you alone, it’s pretty essential that you’re at least able to take care of yourself.”
Rin doesn’t move. Hatori keeps an arm loosely wrapped around Rin’s waist, and leans forward to slide the window closed. Together, they watch it click shut. She leans back against Hatori. He holds her. He’s not sure if she wants to be held or if she’s just too tired to move, but she makes no effort to get away from him, so he stays there.
“Perhaps Rin can stay with us tonight.” Shigure says. “And you can come get her in the morning.”
Hatori feels Rin nod. He extricates himself from her. She won’t look at him as he straightens his jacket. She just keeps looking down at her hands.
Shigure walks him out. He tells Hatori that Rin wants to break the curse. That it’s why she’s been visiting him, that it’s probably why she never goes to school anymore. Hatori feels dizzy with the knowledge. He’s always thought of the curse as some impossible thing, unbreakable bonds wrapped around his wrists and throat. How could Rin think that that’s possible?
“Did you say something to her?” Hatori asks. He taps a cigarette out of his pack and lights it immediately, taking a long, deep drag.
“I didn’t say anything. She came to this on her own.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Ha-san, Akito pushed her out a window.” Shigure says. “Did you really think she wouldn’t start struggling against the curse eventually?”
Had he really never thought about it? Or had he just intentionally ignored it, like when he heard Haru’s quiet laughter from her bedroom? Was it just another mental block he had put in place with the thought of protecting her?
“I didn’t realize.” Hatori murmurs.
“Rin has gotten very good at making sure people don’t realize things.” Shigure says.
Hatori comes back the next morning. He doesn’t say anything to her— just shrugs off his jacket and placed it over her shoulders. Shigure murmurs a goodbye to her, picks an invisible piece of lint off of her borrowed jacket that belies his desire to touch her in a more meaningful way, and then says goodbye to Hatori.
Hatori helps her into his car. She looks exhausted, and he expects her to fall asleep on the way to the hospital, but she doesn’t. Instead, she rests her forehead against the window, and watches the world go by. They haven’t spoken since the night before.
“Isuzu.”
She doesn’t say anything, but she glances over at him to let him know she’s listening.
“Shigure told me you’re trying to break the curse.”
She sighs. “Why does it matter? You’re not going to help me.”
Hatori is quiet for a moment. “I gave up on the curse a long time ago.” He pauses, thinking. “But that… that doesn’t mean that you should.”
“You’re not going to tell me I’m being foolish?”
“I don’t think you’re being foolish.”
“Will you tell Akito?”
“I won’t.” Hatori says. “But… if you’re going to do this, I want you to be careful.”
“Careful?”
“I don’t want you to get sick. Or be so reckless that you get yourself hurt.”
“Would that be so terrible?” Rin murmurs.
It’s just a body, Hatori remembers her saying.
“Yes.” Hatori says firmly.
“…Okay.” Rin says softly.
“And, Isuzu—“ Hatori glances over at her. “After all of this, I want you to come home.”
It’s okay if you don’t come home.
Rin’s hands suddenly fly up to her face, covering her eyes and mouth.
“Isuzu?” Hatori asks, alarmed, his eyes darting between her and the car in front of him. “What’s wrong?”
And then he hears a sob from behind her hands.
“Isuzu—“ He says, glancing around, looking for a spot to pull over.
“Sorry…” She cries. “I’m sorry…”
“What—“ Hatori honks his horn ineffectually, but the cars around him don’t move. “What hurts? Is it your stomach?”
She shakes her head, wipes at her face. “I want to come home.”
“You—“ Hatori turns his head to stare at her, processing her words, her tears.
“I want— I want to come home!” She says again. She wipes at her tears with the sleeve of her borrowed jacket, but they’re falling too quickly, and they stream down her face and throat.
Hatori’s face softens. “Okay.” He says. “Okay. After the hospital, you’ll come home.”
Rin doesn’t say anything after that. She cries the rest of the way to the hospital. When they get there, Hatori helps her into a wheelchair. They go through the check-in process, expedited as befits a Sohma. Hatori takes her to her room. He starts an IV for her, lets her dig her nails into his leg as he slides the needle into her arm. He pushes her bangs back from her forehead, checks her temperature.
She starts crying again.
Hatori opens his arms, and she falls into them.
He holds her tightly against him, rubs her back as she cries silently into his shoulder.
“You need to get better.” Hatori murmurs. “Momiji and I will be waiting for you.”
The only indication that she heard him is her hands twisting into his shirt and holding on tightly.
He holds her until the exhaustion catches up with her, and she falls asleep against him. Even still, he keeps holding her, staring out the window as he mindlessly rubs her back. The leaves outside have started to turn a ruddy reddish-brown, loosening themselves from trees and skittering across the roads. It’s supposed to be a cold winter this year, he thinks. Maybe it will snow.
The first big snowfall of the year happens in late January. Hatori watches it from his office. Rin watches it from the floor of the cat’s room, barely conscious enough to feel the bitter chill.