[At first, Souji can't help but beam at the obvious pride and joy that Mutsu still finds in his old master, the love and admiration that clearly runs so deep that time will never mar or fade it. On different sides or not, he thinks that this is the sword that Sakamoto Ryouma truly deserved - although he privately entertains some regret that he never put Mutsu to his full use. Then again, from what he can tell, Mutsu seems to share his view on the future of swords, even though he himself is one. A strange dichotomy, but perhaps that's what it's like, to truly have a modern and pioneering spirit.

But then, the last lingering traces of his smile fade from his eyes when he sees that look on Mutsu's face, the way his entire body seems to change as the grief from all that time ago settles on his shoulders. It's as if the sun is suddenly obscured, like a shadow falls on them both, and Souji actually shudders, feeling colder. Feeling a familiar ache start once more in his chest at the sudden tension, he swallows hard, lowering his gaze.]

I'm sorry. I had no right- I shouldn't have spoken of such sad things. It's just... I want you to believe me when I say I truly liked your master. I really admired his spirit. [His lips go a bit paler still as he presses them together.] I'm not the sort of person who can pass judgement on those responsible for his death. I'm probably no better, in the end. But a man like that... he deserved a better death than that.