[Souji lets out a hoarse little titter at the way Kashuu ribs the other sword, not actually sharply or with any malice, but in that flippant and impatient way of his. It's such a familial way to act, his two swords seeming comfortable around each other in a way that suggested two people having come to terms with each others' significant differences and learning to live and work with them. Then it grows into full laughter as Yamato apparently manages to miss everything Kashuu says, reminding Souji of how he sometimes spaces out during talks of serious politics, missing the mark by a wide margin when he's later asked for his opinion. The laughter is well worth the deeper ache in his chest.

Despite the situation, he likes this. He likes seeing his swords interact with each other, likes the ways they get along and the ways that they apparently don't as well. He likes seeing parts of himself in them, and also seeing the ways they are like each other. He is fascinated by the differences. He wants to praise the good parts and tell them he accepts and still loves the bad parts. Like he has done some times with Tetsu already, he wonders to himself if this is what being a parent is like. Or is this something else? Maybe "family" is enough to simply cover all feelings like that.

He smiles and reaches out a hand to Yamato, silently asking him to help out supporting him, so Kashuu won't have to carry both him and Yamato's kill all alone.]

You know, I don't think of swords as servants, Yama~to Yasu~sada. [There's a playful edge to his words to stop them sounding so serious, even if his voice stays rather low and tired.] But I'm grateful for any help you'll give me. If there is some small thing I can do without getting in the way, I would like to help out. [The last words almost border on a plea, a desperate wish to not be completely useless to them, to not just be a burden.]