[It helps that even without memories, so many of the little things which Souji connects to safety and happiness are directly derived from the other man, even if he doesn't know it. The smell of tobacco and ink; the sound of quiet, steady voices; the sensation of callused hands against his own or thick hair between his fingers. He's already programmed to slip effortlessly into this new life, has already lived a lifetime before thinking of himself as Hijikata's weapon. This really won't be that different.

He laughs at her playful admonishment, eyes bright with amusement.]

Is that so? Well, I can't promise that I won't tease him or pull at his hair to stop him being so serious, if he needs it. But I don't think that's the sort of thing words are needed for, right?