[It's a bit strange and overwhelming, how subservient and deferential this sword is being, picking his words with such great care and truly acting as if Souji is somehow vastly superior to him. It honestly throws Souji quite a bit; he is used to command in battle, sure, like any Shinsengumi captain would be expected to be, and he is born as samurai class, but this is different. He has never held an elevated or respected position in society, and he certainly isn't used to being treated with excessive formality - unless you count Tatsunosuke, but that is different too.

Not to mention it's one hell of a culture shock after Kashuu's excessively casual and familiar form of address. So Souji stumbles a bit, hesitating, before his mannerisms soften even further, his smile growing more muted but warmer.]

I think you misunderstand me. I don't care at all about the beds, and I honestly prefer sharing. [Because he's a tactile nature, and since this used to be his sword, the hand that isn't holding on to Yamato's immediately lifts to brush a lock of hair away from his face with unquestioning familiarity. He and the Souji that Yamato is used to might differ a bit, but this is still the sword he used to polish and maintain, wipe clean of blood after battle, so how can it be strange to touch him? He runs two fingers along his cheek, and then gives Yamato a playful little flick on the nose.]

What I mean is that I would be happy for you to share this room with us. If you are more comfortable sleeping on the futon, then you are free to do so, but-! [He makes a soft little sound, now resting his fingertip square on the tip of Yamato's nose.] I probably won't sleep on this bed at all unless I'm sharing it with you, okay? So it would be a bit silly to refuse on my behalf.