[ their saniwa, he thinks, is a namazuo, not a honebami. actually, tsurumaru has always wondered why swords were summoned with their memories intact. it seemed to him that it would be a lot more practical if they were summoned like blank slates, with nothing but the thought of destroying the retrograding army playing in their minds. certainly, it'd make things easier. less opportunities for regret, for wishing things were otherwise, for thinking maybe it'd be worth it to go back in time themselves to settle one, little, bitter thing.

(it's a thought that has kept him awake at night, most nights -- would he have been happier if he had never been stolen from the shrine? dug out from his grave? if his master lived to forty rather than fourteen? memories are such bitter, bitter things)

it's with that thought that he chuckles, and lies through his teeth. ]

Well, well, I'm surprised. And here I was afraid we'd disagree, but it looks like we'd get along after all. [ he holds up his pen, however, twirls it in his fingers, and then points it at robin dramatically. ] But! You're hardly old enough to sound like you've already seen all there is to see.

[ aka don't sound so zen, you make him sound like a shit in comparison (spoilers: he's just a shit). cheekily: ]

Dear Sage, I assure you, you're still missing out on quite a lot, perhaps not in the past but certainly in the now.