[ he winces at the reminder of how overprotective hasebe can be, settling across from yasusada and gently urging him out of his outer layers. ] I understand why he worries, but I was born and raised for my duties. [ he's perfectly capable of looking after himself outside of the citadel. in general, anyway.

once the spirit is divested of enough fabric to satisfy him, he reaches, small, sure hands carefully checking yasusada's sides and arms, chest and waist and back. eventually, he sits back, seeming satisfied that there's no major damage to his human body, and instead extends his hands, palm up to request the sword itself. ]

I've tried every method I know to contact the citadel, [ he admits at last, quietly troubled. ] I thought at first that perhaps I'd died in my sleep, and this is some sort of afterlife, but.. I don't think that's true anymore.