[Okita Souji is still Okita Souji in the end, even if it's one that he's never technically met before. A part of him thinks it should probably hurt less even so, since this isn't the one that he had known, but... hearing that feels like a heated icepick to the heart, spreading warmth and shooting pain at the same time. Earning such praise has been his goal ever since he had broken at Ikedaya, but now that he's actually hearing it, it's not what he had imagined at all. He had hoped for pride and a sense of peace - wholeness, maybe - because he had managed to make up for his deficit that had gotten him thrown away.
Instead, pride is the smallest sliver of emotion that he feels. Most of the larger ones are ugly: regret, guilt, bitterness. His struggles to be beautiful and loved on his second chance still won't make up for the failures of his first, and even though he had hoped he could erase that blemish from his past somehow through this strange version of reconciliation, he's realizing now that that's far from possible. That's a tough pill to swallow. No matter how beautiful he can become, his past will always contain "the sword that broke at Ikedaya". A sword that just wasn't quite enough.
But it's not all negative, even if there's much more of it than he had expected. Hearing that still fills him with a sense of validation. His face is being touched by a hand that should have never been able to hold him again - which is what he does, after a couple of seconds. His own finally rise from his sides, resting over the backs of Souji's, and it's like he's been transported to those early days when all he wanted was to be wielded in battle or training by this unfathomably talented warrior. He wants to reciprocate appropriately. If he could just crow and reassure Souji that yes, yes he is beautiful, and he'll continue to be, then surely he'll be able to banish some of these darker sentiments. Surely he would be able to feel like he's standing on stable ground again.
Instead, he opens his mouth to speak and the only sound that comes out is an unpleasant choking noise. His cheeks flush with embarrassment when he realizes that his eyes are already wet, too, and he can only thank the Cerealian overlords that he had discovered waterproof mascara in time for this mess.
STARES DIRECTLY INTO THE SUN
Instead, pride is the smallest sliver of emotion that he feels. Most of the larger ones are ugly: regret, guilt, bitterness. His struggles to be beautiful and loved on his second chance still won't make up for the failures of his first, and even though he had hoped he could erase that blemish from his past somehow through this strange version of reconciliation, he's realizing now that that's far from possible. That's a tough pill to swallow. No matter how beautiful he can become, his past will always contain "the sword that broke at Ikedaya". A sword that just wasn't quite enough.
But it's not all negative, even if there's much more of it than he had expected. Hearing that still fills him with a sense of validation. His face is being touched by a hand that should have never been able to hold him again - which is what he does, after a couple of seconds. His own finally rise from his sides, resting over the backs of Souji's, and it's like he's been transported to those early days when all he wanted was to be wielded in battle or training by this unfathomably talented warrior. He wants to reciprocate appropriately. If he could just crow and reassure Souji that yes, yes he is beautiful, and he'll continue to be, then surely he'll be able to banish some of these darker sentiments. Surely he would be able to feel like he's standing on stable ground again.
Instead, he opens his mouth to speak and the only sound that comes out is an unpleasant choking noise. His cheeks flush with embarrassment when he realizes that his eyes are already wet, too, and he can only thank the Cerealian overlords that he had discovered waterproof mascara in time for this mess.
But what awful timing for an ugly cry.
Ugh.]