Given what he's seen of this place, that isn't a bad hypothesis.

He's spent a while exploring the Pines. It might be reasonable to try and sleep soon. Even if he decides against sleeping, if he's not back in the cabin by the time Bran wakes up, he might be worried about where Kiritsugu's gone, and certainly Thia and Ira will if he's still not there when they're awake.

He's getting tired. He should sleep. 

Following that magical feeling of warmth, it is easy to find his way back to the cabin. Inside, the guest bedroom is free for Kiritsugu to use as before. Nothing in the house will wake him before the rooster tomorrow morning.

He passes out again, hoping that this time that will mean no dreams. 

Thankfully, no dreams find their way into Kiritsugu’s mind that night. When he awakes, breakfast is underway, and once he has eaten and perhaps taken a shower and changed clothes, he is free to help any of the three family members with their usual tasks, or to do as he pleases.

He falls into a routine, somehow. 

He has five months to figure out a wish. That time passes far too quickly. 

The hot and muggy heat of Summer steadily dries as the season passes, followed by the temperature falling, until the snow begins to fall at the onset of Winter. The days grow shorter, and the family spend more of their time inside, entertaining themselves and working in the green room or on the gift-dolls. It's cold outside, and the snow piles thick, but it's not arctic and with the heavy winter clothes in the guest room's wardrobe, Kiritsugu can continue to spend much time outdoors if he wishes. Inevitably, he grows to know this simple family, their personalities, their relationships, their stories. Perhaps he has the power to hold his heart closed to them, perhaps not.

Finally, it is the dawn of the day of Wishing Night, There will be no work today, only three hearty meals, story-telling, and gift-giving and wish-making. He knows that the others plan to wish for healing of their bodies, for the repair of their home and tools, and for bountiful flourishing of their garden and the woods come Spring. He has approximately eighteen hours to decide his own wish.

He's restless with indecision. He could wish Ilya to his side, but she doesn't deserve that. He is, after all, trapped here, as much as he appreciates the company, and he doesn't have the right to rip her from whatever life she's leading in his absence. 

He's not avoiding the others intentionally, but he's not left his room at his usual time. He's gotten in the habit of doing whatever work Bran doesn't take on automatically, and sitting with them all in the evenings, but now he's on his bed, hunched over and uncertain. 

What does he want? 

"To save everyone," a traitorous part of his mind whispers, but he shakes his head. He knows better, now, what that desire does to wish-granting devices. 

Does he want to leave? He's under the impression he has survived longer in the Pines than most, and he's wondered at times if the Hearth has the power to send him home. 

He doesn't let himself answer the question truthfully. He deserves a worse prison than this one, where the gaolers are kind and just as trapped as he is. 

Eventually, he finds himself searching for Thia. He doesn't know what he wants, so he'll wish for something the family needs. That should be safe enough. 

As he walks, he thinks for one mad moment of wishing for a path to the Root, just to see that which is so great that generations of mages grind up the bodies of strangers and family alike in the name of finding it. Then, he dismisses the idea. He is not a mage. He does not care about the Root. 

He'll look for her downstairs first. 

Thia is not present in the main room downstairs, though Bran and Ira are present, sitting on pillows by the Hearth and discussing the details of one of Ira's imaginary worlds. Thia is visible through the glass door, though, sitting on her rocking chair in the green room and reading a book.

He goes to her, and waits until she notices him.

Technically, she noticed him coming down the stairs already, but she’s in the groove of reviewing her gardening notes so she’ll let him wait and watch until she finds a good breakpoint. “Good morning, Kiritsugu.”

"Good morning." 

He fidgets and feels like a child. 

"I don't know what to wish for"

She smiles in a very grandmotherly way. Over the last few months, she's grown to see him as all but another son of hers. "That's understandable," she says, closing her notebook and looking to him. "Do you fear you'll make the wrong choice, faced with all the possibilities?"

"Yes," he says. "I have such a good track with wish granting devices!" 

He can apparently corrupt them, too, which is not ideal. 

She nods empathetically. "You do not need to wish for anything, when you offer your gifts to the Hearth, or even hold onto them for next year."

"Oh. Will it... understand?" He looks shamefaced. "If I wish to heal your wrists that frees you up."

Thia's expression hardens, though only for a brief moment. "Each of our wishes are our own. I will wish our ills to be healed, as I have often done. Do not try and use yours for anyone else's desire." She sighs and looks around the green room as she thinks on this. "Yes, the Hearth will understand. I don't speak of my first few years here often, but I did not come here knowing anything of its preferences. It is a strange thing, but it possesses a deep wisdom of a kind."

It is only by long practice that Kiritsugu doesn't flinch. He wasn't acting out of nowhere--he must have misunderstood a comment of Bran's about use of wishes, or something. 

He nods. "Of course," he said. "I have my dolls to offer." 

Bran is indeed a bit less serious about wishes needing to be for the wisher on some level than his mother. Thia has an almost religious conception of the Hearth, or at least it's seemed that way for the past few months, while Bran more so sees it as almost just another member of the family, albeit one with some odd needs and preferences.

Thia nods again. "You're free to spend some time here, if it would help ease your heart."

"It would, thank you."

Thia will return to reviewing her notes, and the two of them can relax amidst the greenery for a while. Not for too long, though, as maybe half an hour later Bran opens the green room's door. "Breakfast is ready."

He'll follow Thia.

And she will lead, though naturally it's only a couple dozen steps from the center of the green room to the dining table in the main room. There are bowls of soup, fried eggs, and nut-clusters. Ira, evidently hungry, starts eating just as Thia and Kiritsugu sit down. Bran can sense something though, and asks before he eats, "Is something wrong?"

Thia looks over to Kiritsugu. She can answer if he would prefer not to.

"I am not wishing this year, I think," he admits. "My history weighs on me too terribly." 

Bran nods, and Ira makes a sympathetic noise through her full mouth. Probably, breakfast is fairly quiet. There is not much to do but entertain themselves until lunch. Thia will likely return to reading in the green room, while Ira will engage Bran in chat about her imaginary worlds. If Kiritsugu has introduced to the idea of playing in the snow, the two of them might put on their out-door dress and head outside instead.