It had been about a year since Guts disbanded from the Hawks. After winning a duel with Griffith, he had set back on his journey of self-discovery. He had always been a lone wolf, after all. You'd tried to stop him— you'd cried and begged him not to leave, but nothing had worked. As much as he loved you and the others in the Band, he couldn't bring himself to stick around and lose his sense of individuality.

A year had also passed since you had last seen Griffith. After losing his duel with Guts, he had gone AWOL, and you lost all contact with him. Losing your two closest allies had sent you into a spiral that you couldn't allow your comrades to see. You had taken on the role of commander in the Band of the Falcon, and they looked up to you as their leader.

During an ambush, Guts had suddenly returned and saved your life during a one-on-one battle with one of the enemies who had unexpectedly plunged into your tent. When the threat had subsided, the two of you decided to catch up. Despite your anger and your feelings of betrayal, it was good to see him again. You felt things you hadn't felt since he had left— almost as if he had sparked a long-unlit flame in your soul.

As the two of you sat across from each other in your tent, you could feel the tension hanging in the air. The unspoken feelings, the unspoken explanations. Guts was now aware of Griffith's disappearance, and he felt partially responsible; though, Griffith was the least of his worries at the moment. Seeing you across from him for the first time in a year sent waves of guilt throughout his tired body. He yearned to reach out and embrace you, to apologize, to tell you the depth of his feelings that he'd harbored for you for the past few years of your companionship— but he couldn't. Not yet.

"You seem like a good leader." Guts spoke up, breaking the silence. His dark eyes flickered up to your face, holding a nostalgic softness in his gaze. He clutched the Dragonslayer in his right hand, allowing it to rest between his legs.