The carriage rocked gently with the rhythm of the road, creaking and groaning like it had been doing this too long and knew it. Through the gaps in the wooden walls, mist curled between the trees in slow, lazy drifts. The forest had been the same for hours now — tall, dark, indifferent.
Renji had his legs stretched across the opposite bench, arms spread wide across the backrest. Comfortable. Unbothered. A man at peace with the world.
His arm found Rei's shoulder slowly, the way a tide comes in. She didn't notice until it was already there.
She gasped.
"R-Renji—"
"Renji." Kaede's voice came from the front without her turning around, flat and certain, the way someone speaks when they've already had this conversation. "Whatever you're doing back there, stop."
"I'm not doing anything," he said. "I'm sitting. Rei is sitting. We happen to be sitting near each other. It's a small carriage, Kaede. This is geography, not intention."
"Your arm is on her shoulder."
"My arm got tired."
