(He's finished his parfait but he keeps the spoon in his mouth for a while. He chews on the plastic for a bit in silence and looks away. Sitting in the chair with his knees up to his chest like this, he probably looks small. He feels small. It's hard asking when he can feel in his gut that no matter what... he isn't going to like the answer. After a while, he takes the spoon out and sets it in the empty parfait cup next to him,)
... I don't belong to you anymore.
(He doesn't. He hasn't for a long time. He still can't look at Ryouma, though.)
You... (He wants to say something but he stops himself. He's sure it'll come up eventually but it doesn't have to right now. He doesn't have to remind Ryouma that he got rid of him. He lets out a quiet, tired sigh,) You got Mutsunokami and your gun. You don't need another old sword.
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... I don't belong to you anymore.
(He doesn't. He hasn't for a long time. He still can't look at Ryouma, though.)
You... (He wants to say something but he stops himself. He's sure it'll come up eventually but it doesn't have to right now. He doesn't have to remind Ryouma that he got rid of him. He lets out a quiet, tired sigh,) You got Mutsunokami and your gun. You don't need another old sword.