[ he's mostly a bit embarrassed from his earlier display, hoping that she'll keep it a secret between the both of them. that, and his pain threshold is also high enough for him to continue smiling and speaking with shards of glass wedged between his hands — but then again, that's resilient sword spirits for you... ]

They did. [ even though in the lifespan of a thousand years, two decades is nothing, he's certain that he was loved — because the time beyond their death makes up all of the time when he wasn't loved. ] They didn't have to treat me so kindly — I was just their sword, you know?

But If they've heard everything from then up to now, I wonder if they still love me.

[ there's a small pause, as if he's contemplating telling her or not, because there's a part of him that feels as if he's burdening her with too much, considering that she's someone that's not too familiar with him, and what if she ends up concluding that he's thoroughly strange... ]

You see, after they died, and the clan that owned me afterwards also died a few decades later, people started saying that I was cursed, and that those clans died because they owned me. They died in some pretty horrific ways, too — you saw it earlier, right?

[ and an attempt at a light-hearted laugh, but ah, well... he tried. ] It's not true at all, but if they're watching, I wonder if they're mad at me.