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It was, Guts thought, a most surreal experience. Upon entering Griffith’s room that evening, he had expected to things to happen. Firstly, he had expected Griffith to commend him on yesterday’s battle efforts, and secondly, he had expected him to discuss his new plans for the Hawk’s Raiders in their attack on Tudor.

He had decidedly not been expecting to come upon Griffith in a state of undress, and most certainly not been expecting to see breasts on his captain’s chest.

With difficulty, Guts pulled his eyes away from Griffith’s chest and up to his eyes, hoping to find an answer there that would explain exactly why the other had breasts. While he did not find an answer, he did find something. In the other’s piercing gaze, a warning and a test, a dare to shout out the state of Griffith’s body, to mock him, to question him. Instead, Guts merely stared back, carefully allowing the door to shut completely behind him. Then he crossed over to his regular seat in Griffith’s rooms and made himself comfortable.

'I came because you wanted to talk,' Guts began, 'about the raiders.' For a brief moment, Griffith's eyes appeared confused, and then suddenly he was smirking, walking over to his bed. In silence he dressed, first pulling on an unusual undershirt, one that bound his chest so that his breasts were flattened, then slipping into a loose tunic. Once clothed, he took his own seat at his desk and looked over at Guts.

'Though this may be obvious, I wasn't expecting you for at least another ten minutes,' Griffith said, 'but now you're here, I think perhaps our plans for the raiders will have to wait a moment, if you don't mind.' Guts snorted. It didn't particularly matter if he minded or not, though for what it was worth, he really didn't mind. In fact, to some extent, he didn't really mind being in this strange and awkward situation. To him, Griffith still felt like Griffith, and that was all that really mattered to him.

Still, some answers as to why this strange and awkward situation was even occurring were always welcome.

'You should really lock your door,' Guts said suddenly, just as Griffith opened his mouth to speak. 'Not now, just in general. Not everyone who walks in knows how to mind their own business. These nobles walk about with their tongues wagging out of their mouths after all.'

'It's nice you care,' Griffith laughed, ignoring the tongue Guts stuck out of his own mouth at the words, 'but I know. The only reason my door was unlocked today was because I'd requested to be left alone while I waited for you, and if they can avoid it, nobles and their servants don't usually come to my quarters. They'd much prefer me to come to their own.' It was left unspoken that the only others who would visit him here were the commanders of the Hawk's units, and if Griffith requested they leave him alone, then they would leave him alone without question.

'But I suppose I should get to the point,' Griffith continued, never taking his eyes away from Guts. Guts felt his every action being observed, and once again he knew he was being tested. 'About me. Not that there's much for me to say.' He paused for only a moment before continuing. 'I am a man.' Then he smirked, though it lacked any semblance of humour and appeared more as a well-disguised grimace. 'It is just my form does not entirely agree. Does that make sense?'

Guts did not respond. Instead he simply sat and thought, letting Griffith’s explanation, though it was not much of one, simmer over in his mind. So he had a woman’s body, that much he could grasp, yet he still felt he was a man? Was he trying to say he was just masculine, or that his soul was that of a male? Did he even believe in souls? Did it even matter? Guts frowned, lines creasing his brow. Even after seeing Griffith’s breasts he had not adopted any sort of female address for him. Indeed, at least in Guts’ own head, Griffith was still a man. So if he was a man in Guts’ mind, and a man in Griffith’s own, then maybe it did make sense.

'Yeah,' Guts spoke aloud, looking up at Griffith once again. 'I guess it does. Somehow. Huh.' He fell silent, letting memories that had seemed odd to his past self suddenly filter through with this new information about Griffith. It did explain why, on the morning after his first battle with the Hawk's, that Griffith had greeted him dousing himself with water while still fully dressed, and it explained the stomach illnesses Griffith sometimes felt, though he never truly spoke to Guts about them. It also explained Casca's strange story, of how Griffith had slept with a Lord for money, but had passed over the obvious choice of Lord Gennon, who had been greatly infatuated with him and other young man. It also explained why said Lord had been discovered dead only a few nights later. And it also explained Casca's own confusion, as she recalled Griffith partaking in strange teas and medicines for at least a month before and after, teas Casca had described as both 'for soothing one's soul, but also for women's needs and issues, uh, like preventing children.'

To Guts’ mind, it explained so much, yet it didn’t change anything at all.

'So, the raiders?' He said. Griffith watched him for a moment longer, before one of his innocent grins appeared on his face and he beckoned Guts over. Guts stood and approached, peering down at the map spread out on his captain's desk.

'So, I thought that an attack with the raiders through here would…'

And to Guts, it felt as if their night continued as normal, as if nothing had changed, and with a slight smile of his own, Guts realised nothing had.