Page 137 of Mercy Written in Blood

"You brought the food."

"And played music."

"That is not evidence of safety."

Haruki's mouth curved faintly.

"You are very focused on the wrong part of this conversation."

"I disagree."

"Of course."

Renji watched him carefully. His heart rate had increased when the question was asked. It remained elevated, though not dangerously so. Haruki was frightened. Not of Renji. Of the answer. There was a difference.

"You expected me to deny it," Renji said.

"I expected you to tell me I was exhausted, traumatised or behaving irrationally."

Renji said nothing. Haruki noticed.

"You considered it."

"Yes."

"Thank you for not doing that."

The gratitude unsettled Renji more than suspicion would have.

"You should not thank me for declining to manipulate you."

"People are thanked for resisting easier choices all the time."

"It should not be necessary."

"No."

Haruki looked towards the shelves. Now that the truth had been spoken, he examined the room again. Not with alarm. Recognition.

"How old are you?"

"That is your first question?"

"It seemed less rude than asking whether you drink blood."

"You considered that less rude?"

"Marginally."

Renji almost smiled. He stopped himself.

"Approximately nine hundred and ninety-eight years."

Haruki stared at him. The reaction was small but genuine, his gaze moving over Renji's face as though searching for evidence hidden in familiar features.

"Approximately?"

"Records were not kept with modern precision."