[Souji realizes, of course, that this is a rather incredibly inappropriate thing to do. The poor man must be wondering what on earth has possessed some stranger to cling to him in such a manner, and really Souji would have a hard time expressing it himself. How do you say, "You're a representation of something precious, something that broke, and to see you now makes me remember all the more how much I still cared about this thing" - even to a sword spirit who ought to at least find it slightly less crazy than anyone else. How do you explain to yourself why that fills you with such intense emotion?

Yet, for all that he can't put words around his feelings right now, he can't quite bring himself to let go either. So instead he compromises by leaning back slightly, another overwhelmed little laugh spilling from his lips.]

I'm sorry. It makes sense for you not to recognize me, but... in another world, one which is probably at least a bit like yours, I'm- my name is Okita Souji. And you're... I remember you, in a way, even if you don't remember me. [His eyes travel down to the sword Kashuu is carrying, and there is something wistful there. A sword is the soul of a samurai - the only words he really remembers his father saying. Had a part of his soul broken, back then?]