Nooooooooo.

[ Rokurou clutches his face when Nansen mentions the possibility of their swords being melted down. Yes, the possibility had crossed his mind, but ... no. Not that sword. So, the daemon slaps his own cheeks, righting his mind again with a series of swats while the other man similarly recoups. Their swords are fine. Fine. They're probably just hidden in a treasure chest somewhere around here. That's always how it goes back where he's from. ]

Hrk! [ the slap catches him off guard; there's force behind it! as expected, a fellow swordsman is no slouch. and this makes them even, doesn't it... debt repaid. ] Alright, aniki.

[ Does he think this is his name? Yes. Yes he does. Despite his name being in the tongue of his great ancestor's land, he's actually never been there. Aniki sounds as fine a name as any other. ]

That's good with me. I'm Rokurou—which means sixth son! I have five older brothers, so I'm used to being the little brother anyway. Hey, that means you have to spoil me, right?

[ A sparkle glints in his eye at the prospect of being spoiled. ]