( Despite his confidence, he knows better. Mutsu is as much a realist as he is an optimist. He knows the saniwa won't waste valuable resources on random swords. Those were resources that could go to repairs, to creating troops... more practical things than just proving Mutsu's point. But that's fine. If the saniwa wouldn't grand his request then he would negotiate. Aim high so you can negotiate low. Dream big but understand bigger dreams yield as much succes ad they can failure. Ryoma had never settled for the lesser dream and Mutsu wouldn't either.

Souza gets up. Mutsu reaches to help him. His hand is on his shoulder and Mutsu stops just short. What if he's wrong? He isn't (not completely). Mutsu's hand reaches for Souza's sword, a finger on the flat of the blade as he gently guides it towards Souza's side, free hand moving toward's Souza's other hand-- only so his finger can touch Souza's injured thumb. )

If you're right. If master only wants us for show and if he doesn't care if we break and if he can replace us and if he doesn't want us― ( His words are rising from his chest, up his throat, spilling from his lips carelessly and without abandon, ) ― Then I'll take you.

If master won't take care of ya then I will. If he won't fix you up then I will. If he only wants you for what you stand for then I'll want you for you.

( His heart is beating against his chest. He feels powerful, like he's just returned from a successful mission. Like he's fought a hundred battles and he can keep fighting more. Nothing can stop him, he feels, and though he hasn't raised his sword once today and though spring is long past and far away, the air is warm like a spring's day and the breeze— with the scent of fresh flowers— brings petals.

A revolutionary sword stands in front of the sword of conquerors, bold and without shame, )

So what about that, Souza? What if I want you?