[Without thinking, he brushes his fingers over her hand. His own are rough, calloused, from one-too-many days of handling a sword and doing busy-work. Many of the blisters are still fresh, as he's had to do a good deal of load-carrying himself.

He watches how her shoulders tense up at the mention of another man, removing his scarf reflexively and placing it under his chin, something he's learned to do after moving around so much. It was less expensive to fall asleep on a bench than buy a hotel room, and at this stage in his life, he needed to save all the money he possibly could.

Sakamoto wonders what else there is to know, because behind that gruff exterior there certainly is a very gentle soul, a person who cares about others despite what she may have faced in the past.

He smiles idly in a sleepy haze as she returns.]

I didn't mean to make ya mad.

But if you do feel angry, you can go ahead 'n talk. I'm blacked out drunk.

[A lie.]

I won't remember much.