[There is a melancholy ache in his heart as he listens, as the sword tells him that he doesn't want to be in his way, doesn't want to be a burden, doesn't want to trouble the one he admires and loves even by allowing the smallest concessions. Somehow, Souji feels responsible. He is Okita Souji, one of the incarnations of the masters of this sword, and therefore somehow, a part of his soul is truly in this blade, in this spirit. So when the parts that resonate so strongly with him are things that make him ache for the sword, it makes him feel like he should have done a better job somehow, been a stronger person, and maybe Yamato wouldn't have to feel this way.
Souji is an impulsive and tactile person. What happens next comes as seamlessly as it had when he's first seen Kashuu; there is no real thought or plan behind, only affection and true joy at being close to this very part of himself made flesh. He leans forward and wraps his arms around the shorter man hard, face buried against his shoulder, arms gently but firmly holding him close. He knows he's as fragile as a bird right now, that the embrace could easily be broken if Yamato wants it, but somehow he doesn't think that will happen.
Arranging himself after a moment so that his cheek is resting against the sword's, he sighs, lifting one hand to rest it soothingly against the back of his head.]
You're not a burden to me, Yamato no Kami Yasusada. You could never be. I'm happy that you're here; proud and honored to get to know you. You were once a part of me, right? How can a warrior not love his sword? [He knows now for sure that some don't, from talking to Haru and others. But it's still alien to him.] I want you here. You could never be in the way, do you understand? Because you're precious and beautiful to me, and having you here is a gift. Please, never think that you are troubling me. Sharing anything with you will make me happy.
I lost it in a tragic accident, and I am now chill-less
Souji is an impulsive and tactile person. What happens next comes as seamlessly as it had when he's first seen Kashuu; there is no real thought or plan behind, only affection and true joy at being close to this very part of himself made flesh. He leans forward and wraps his arms around the shorter man hard, face buried against his shoulder, arms gently but firmly holding him close. He knows he's as fragile as a bird right now, that the embrace could easily be broken if Yamato wants it, but somehow he doesn't think that will happen.
Arranging himself after a moment so that his cheek is resting against the sword's, he sighs, lifting one hand to rest it soothingly against the back of his head.]
You're not a burden to me, Yamato no Kami Yasusada. You could never be. I'm happy that you're here; proud and honored to get to know you. You were once a part of me, right? How can a warrior not love his sword? [He knows now for sure that some don't, from talking to Haru and others. But it's still alien to him.] I want you here. You could never be in the way, do you understand? Because you're precious and beautiful to me, and having you here is a gift. Please, never think that you are troubling me. Sharing anything with you will make me happy.