"..."

Guts didn't have it in him to snap back at her for that. Rejecting her offer - that was easy. That was old habit since he was a lone mercenary eking out a living before the age of fifteen. But after two years in isolation, slashing and shooting too often to even get much food or sleep, her little show of concern manages to catch him off guard. He never could quite manage to quash his own stupid sentimentality.

"I’m fine," he says, back still turned, "Go on. Do what you want."

It was a bit cold, but he’s sure she’ll find plenty of enjoyment with her other companions. Just not with him.