He's been here before, over a week ago, just before their first fight. It's been already four fights since that time, and he certainly wasn't expecting the present invitation. They haven't been talking much over the past days. No more than to exchange basic pleasantries and information concerning their fights. Soubi knows that this is probably his fault, but he also wholeheartedly hopes that Seimei doesn't mind the silence.
He sits on Seimei's bed staring out of the window.
"Any plans for tonight?" Seimei asks as he emerges from the bathroom. Soubi gives him a confused look.
"It's Friday." Seimei explains in an amused tone.
"Oh. No, not really."
"Aren't you going to celebrate your victory?" Seimei asks as he sits down in the desk chair.
"Nothing much to celebrate..." Soubi tries to give Seimei an apologetic smile, but it all comes out strained, his voice sounding oddly strange to him and he looks away.
"What's wrong?" Seimei asks. Soubi looks at Seimei, only to see that his sacrifice is staring at him intently.
"...N-nothing is wrong. What do you mean?"
"You're crying" Seimei says.
"No_" Soubi laughs nervously, bringing up a hand to his face.
"You were crying during the battle."
Soubi drops his hand.
"It's a medical condition." There's a nerve-wreckingly long stretch of silence before Seimei picks up.
"You know, when I first met you I couldn't believe in what I had been told about your abilities" Seimei laughs "even now that I've seen you in battle sometimes I still can't believe it. You're an excellent Fighter, Soubi, yet you're doing so much to deny it." A pause. "Soubi?"
Soubi forces himself to look up at his Sacrifice, only to see that Seimei isn't looking at him. He keeps his eyes on an object he's holding in his hand. A large switchblade, it's metallic surface flashing as he slowly turns it in his hand.
"I think I may just know the solution to your problem" he says as gets up and and approaches the bed to sit down next to Soubi. "There's no need for you to feel anxious. And if you find yourself unable to handle your anxieties on your own, I will be more than willing to help you. The only question is – will you be willing to accept my help?" The question hangs in the air just as the tip of the switchblade conspicuously pointed in his direction.
"Why don't we go for a walk?" Seimei says as he folds the blade and slips it into his pocket. 'I know a nice quiet place where we could talk things over.'
Soubi looks at Seimei's hands, now empty, smoothing out the creases on the duvet. If there's one thing his teacher taught him well, it is self-control. He knows how to maintain his composure. All he has to do to solve the situation, is ask Seimei a question about the meaning of the 9 inches long switchblade feigning incomprehension. But that is not what comes out of his mouth when he meets the concentrated gaze of his Sacrifice.
"I'm really tired now." His voice falters.
"Don't push yourself." Seimei says says quietly. It takes a moment before Soubi brings himself to break the silence.
"I think I should be going now." He says as he gets up slowly. He makes several steps towards the exit when he realizes that Seimei is following him. He turns around abruptly and looks at his Sacrifice.
"Oh, I'll be going too. I'm picking up my brother from school." Seimei explains smiling broadly.
Careful not to make contact with his Sacrifice Soubi steps aside letting Seimei go first.