[Tatsuma, on the other hand, has never felt an ounce of spite.
There should be a limit to how much joy one can feel when around three rambunctious teenagers (who, at first glance, don't even appear to treat him very well) saddled with grief, but even now he can recount specific instances where he had simply been in their presence and felt truly happy. He was an outsider and a piss-poor excuse for a soldier, more of a merchant than a swordsman, but they let him in nonetheless.
Maybe it was because they needed him. It is rare for someone who is practically a stranger to care so very much.]
Well then! What are ya waitin' for? Get over here.
[Sakamoto flops onto the bed, extending a hand towards his friend.]
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There should be a limit to how much joy one can feel when around three rambunctious teenagers (who, at first glance, don't even appear to treat him very well) saddled with grief, but even now he can recount specific instances where he had simply been in their presence and felt truly happy. He was an outsider and a piss-poor excuse for a soldier, more of a merchant than a swordsman, but they let him in nonetheless.
Maybe it was because they needed him. It is rare for someone who is practically a stranger to care so very much.]
Well then! What are ya waitin' for? Get over here.
[Sakamoto flops onto the bed, extending a hand towards his friend.]