The office was quiet and peaceful. He sipped his water. Nothing moved in the heavy air. His eyes didn't focus, and he didn't thing.

And then Shigure and Ayame flounced though the door, shouting their 'hello's. Shigure was in a suit, giving him some measure of maturity. Ayame, though, had on a woman's slip, a facial mask, and hair rollers.

Hatori bid the silence adieu and said, "Upon our graduation from high school, I expected to see the both of you less. Or, at the very least, not during business hours."

Ayame took the lead. "Well, Ha'ri, I was getting all prettied up when my life partner stopped by to ask for tea." He put a melodramatic hand to his chest, belatedly indignant. "Of course, I had to refuse, because my tea is only for my number one stoic lover!"

Hatori waited a beat to be sure that Ayame was finished, and then said, "Ayame, you're wearing a woman's slip."

Ayame tilted his head. "Otherwise the skirt'll ride up."

Shigure chuckled enthusiastically. "Ayaa, of course, he is wondering why you're dressed at all…"

"Really?" Ayame squealed. "Well, all right then!" He took hold of the bottom hem and prepared to disrobe.

Hatori didn't trust him to be wearing anything under it. To salvage the situation, he suggested, "Why don't we have some of Ayame's tea." It same out as an exasperated sigh instead of a question.

"Good idea!" Ayame said brightly. He probably had no memory of the tea in his story, while Hatori had assumed that it was the reason why they were here in the first place. He marched back out, singing, "I'll make tea-ee, wait and see-ee! Ama-zing tea just for Ha'ri-ee!

Slowly, his voice faded into the distance. Shigure was smiling brightly. Hatori's water had warmed.

Shigure hooked a finger in his tie and loosened it. "My, Ha'ri. All of a sudden you keep this place at boiling point no matter what. I don't remember you liking heat this much."

Hatori relaxed slightly into his chair. Snow fell into his hair, and a happy, perfect woman said something about melting and spring. He blinked, caught himself nearly smiling, and said, "Just something Kana told me once."

Right. He was here. There wasn't any snow, and there wasn't any Kana. There was just Shigure lighting up in the doorway out to the garden.

Watching Shigure suck in smoke made the skin between Hatori's index and middle finger itch. He stood up and looked out the doorway, too, pulling a pack out of his coat. Shigure gave him a light.

For all that he knew what color his lungs were, for all that he knew how many years he was taking off his life, Hatori had just remembered Kana and he needed that moment of lightheaded release.

Ayame skipped back in, miraculously not burning himself with the boiling water. "Ha'ri! See, see? I've just worked my fingers to the bone for you! It's a testament to my love for you!"

Ayame didn't smoke, but he came to stand with them. There was an exchange of cups, and then all was quiet.

It was a different sort of quiet than when he was alone, Hatori reflected. When he was alone, the hot room had Kana in it.

He didn't say this often… "I'm glad you two came."

There was a warm, intimate moment for five seconds.

And then Ayame began to squeal, Hatori ignored him, and Shigure watched the fun with a new cigarette in his mouth.