rest for the weary
"I heard there had been some problems," Ukitake said delicately, pouring the tea.
His guest took his cup with a bow of thanks and leaned back in his chair. Without his leather jacket, he was painfully thin, painfully tense. "You heard right."
"I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault."
"Isn't it a pity that there isn't a convenient way to say 'I'm sorry' that isn't about fault, but that just wishes it hadn't happened?"
"There's always fault somewhere."
A frog jumped. The ripples in the pool expanded, slowed, and finally stopped, till the water reflected the sky like a steel mirror.
---