[He does let go when Mutsu actually grabs his hand, taking his own back and then just sort of sitting there with it half raised in a strangely childish posture. It's pretty clear from the way he's blinking slowly up at Mutsu that he really isn't all there at this point, his mind run ragged both by the fever and the erratic sleep he's been getting. At first, Mutsu's face really does seem to phase in and out of the familiar image of Sakamoto, but then Souji can see that clearly the man is standing behind his back. And of course he's somehow lucid enough to be aware that he's not really there, but not nearly lucid enough to see what difference it makes.

He meets the gaze of the hallucination briefly, and the Ryouma sighs and shakes his head.]

Nnnoooo... I never ever saw him draw you, you know? Well, I guess you do - your master wasn't any different, right?

[He shakes his head, and the movement causes him to sway slightly.]

Even though I pulled my sword at him so many times, attacked him, tried to kill him... he'd block with his gun if he had to, or once with a rock in his hand, things like that.

I always thought- I thought... I was taught that you should never draw your sword unless you're prepared to kill. And I thought maybe he was just never prepared for killing to be the only way to solve things. That's pretty amazing.

[The Ryouma that isn't there is right behind Mutsu now, watching him with this strange mixture of pride and... not quite regret, but something close to it, and Souji doesn't even think before he asks:]

Were you ever ready to... I mean, at the end, did you draw your sword - huh, Ryouma-san? [If he was in possession of all his wits, he'd never ask a question like this - he isn't that cruel. But there it is. His eyes are obviously staring past Mutsu, glazed over and strangely bright all at once, with compassion and with wistfulness in equal measure.]