He waited in the doorway to the dragon's room. Outside it was bright and warm, but inside long shadows seeped into every corner, twisting even the most mundane objects into cursed monsters.
Hatori knelt by one of the closed windows. His hands were clenched in his lap, his one good eye staring at the floor. In the smallest of movements, he was shaking.
Shigure did not knock. He leaned against the wooden doorframe. His gaze never left the crumpled soul left in the middle of the room.
"I heard what happened," he told Hatori. The dragon did not look up, or even acknowledge his presence.
"I thought…there must be justice in the world, for you to do that." He laughed quietly. "That's horrible of me, isn't it? Justice. It wasn't justice."
Hatori still didn't move.
He turned to leave. His work was done.
No, there was still one more thing. He stepped back into the doorway.
"It wasn't justice," he said, watching the paper-screen wall, "because justice doesn't make me happy."
Without even a glance at Hatori, he left. Now he was done.