Adam's surprise didn't really register as Jigano began to wash away the rest of the blood from his body. The cloth of his tunic had soaked up most of it, but some had still gotten through to dry gummily to his arms and torso, the darkly flaking mess taking on a redder hue once more as it mixed with the water and smeared across the honeyed color of his skin. Lost as he was he still found himself listening to Adam, hearing the other man's candor in a way he would appreciate later, when light returned to the world again and the dead had been given their memorials and burials or pyres and sent to rest.
He did hear the empathy in the scoundrel's voice, though, and the attempt to help. It was that, much more than the cold water, which brought him a little further back to the present and the world of the living, and he nodded slowly as he reached for a cloth to pat himself dry. "Perhaps... I should," he said quietly. "Though in this case it would be more like a distraction than work." He finally looked up, but seeing Adam's gaze courteously turned elsewhere he only paused for a moment before he reached for his bloody tunic, dunking it into the bucket and beginning to scrub the worst of the bloodstains from it. The fabric was likely ruined, but good clothing was not so easy to replace and he needed to salvage what he could of it for the future.
A future without Caiside.
"Teaching you is... it is no hardship, Adam. Teaching others to read and play instruments is a pleasure for me." No one dying, no one accusing him of being foolish or unprepared or a failure. No one getting lost or stolen. They were small things, those lessons, but they were moments of brightness in his day, a way to help someone without it being the end of the world.
The question brought a faint wince to his face and he shook his head, sighing softly. "Not... none who I would want to see me like this," he admitted softly. He needed to be strong for Sam and Kiada, and in showing Amalia his weakness before he had only hurt her more. Rory was far away, separated by miles of monster-infested night and Remi wasn't close enough for him to feel comfortable asking so much of the alchemist. Of the rest? Isla and Caiside were dead and could never help him again. It was a sobering realization, and he finally shivered against the chill that settled into his chest rather than the cool water drying on his skin.
He did hear the empathy in the scoundrel's voice, though, and the attempt to help. It was that, much more than the cold water, which brought him a little further back to the present and the world of the living, and he nodded slowly as he reached for a cloth to pat himself dry. "Perhaps... I should," he said quietly. "Though in this case it would be more like a distraction than work." He finally looked up, but seeing Adam's gaze courteously turned elsewhere he only paused for a moment before he reached for his bloody tunic, dunking it into the bucket and beginning to scrub the worst of the bloodstains from it. The fabric was likely ruined, but good clothing was not so easy to replace and he needed to salvage what he could of it for the future.
A future without Caiside.
"Teaching you is... it is no hardship, Adam. Teaching others to read and play instruments is a pleasure for me." No one dying, no one accusing him of being foolish or unprepared or a failure. No one getting lost or stolen. They were small things, those lessons, but they were moments of brightness in his day, a way to help someone without it being the end of the world.
The question brought a faint wince to his face and he shook his head, sighing softly. "Not... none who I would want to see me like this," he admitted softly. He needed to be strong for Sam and Kiada, and in showing Amalia his weakness before he had only hurt her more. Rory was far away, separated by miles of monster-infested night and Remi wasn't close enough for him to feel comfortable asking so much of the alchemist. Of the rest? Isla and Caiside were dead and could never help him again. It was a sobering realization, and he finally shivered against the chill that settled into his chest rather than the cool water drying on his skin.
