[ when he reaches for his tea, it's not to drink but to curl his hands around the warm ceramic. it's too small for both his hands to properly encircle, so one fits over the other instead. if he presses his palm hard enough against the cup, he can feel the heat prickle through enough to sting; the burn is a sharp reminder all of this is unfortunately very real. ]

If it were up to me, Miss Rin, I wouldn't exist at all.

[ it's a very plain tone for a statement that would otherwise hold some weight. but he had already told her his circumstances the other day; dead, with all he had to live for either gone along with him, or better off without his presence pulling in more bad luck. ]

But I've been told the house doesn't like to follow rules, and they'd just bring me back again.

[ he thumbs at a crumb he feels lingering at the corner of his lips. ]

So here I am.

[ existing, as it were. for what reason? more atoning? but there are no twilights here. he'd had plenty of quiet nights to think it all through, and all he isn't any closer to an answer. ]