[He is picking up what they are putting down. The fact of the matter is that he can separate the usefulness of that from what it means for what they are doing now: Allowing Hizen to be corrupted by them, or distracted from their current task, was unacceptable.]

[Although he does find the effect of his own words on those things very interesting...] Are you angry? [He taunts them in that silence, feeling Hizen's eyes on him, as they had been the last time they had spoken. Perhaps he didn't expect such words from an exorcist. But all of Matoba's experiences, all of his learning, has taught him this thing: there was no point in dwelling on that which could not be changed; on who you could not be.]

[Not that it seems it will really matter. The spirit seems to erupt with fury at his words; he reaches to draw an ofuda, but before he can strike, Hizen rushes past him to dispel the creature himself.]

[What a pitiful thing.]

Writhe in your misery, then. [He replies calmly to its dying gasp, and turns after a moment to follow after Hizen, feeling the stare of the eyes on him as he ensures the gaps remain tightly closed.]

[What interesting things these sword spirits had to say, though. At another time, at a moment where they could afford it- he would ask.]

.... With things like that out here, it'd be for the best to ensure the Arena is well-warded, don't you think?