Chapter 3: Mystery man
The man before him was a sight to behold. Standing tall and confident, he exuded an air of sophistication with his sleek, slicked-back hair and sharp, tailored gray suit. But the splash of color caught his attention - a vibrant red cloak flowed gracefully from the man's shoulders, adding whimsy to his otherwise formal attire. As he raised his arms in a friendly gesture, the man's lips curved upwards into a warm smile, assuring the young observer, "Woah, kid, I'm not going to hurt you."
Guts' scowl deepened as the mysterious man took a step forward, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. The man before him seemed unfazed, his features set in a calm expression almost at odds with the tense situation. Despite his wariness, Guts couldn't help but be struck by the genuine compassion that shone in the man's eyes, causing him to lower his weapon slightly in confusion.
With a heavy sigh, the man slowly reached up to his shoulders, his fingers deftly undoing the clasp that held his cloak in place. As the cloak fell to the ground, Guts couldn't help but be intrigued by the man's sudden display of vulnerability. "Here!" he said, tossing it to Guts, who caught it with one hand. "Tie that around you. No need for you to freeze yourself to death."
Guts wrapped the cloak around himself, feeling a sense of gratitude toward the man. "If you want," the man continued, gesturing towards the cabin Guts had been running towards, "the cabins open with a fire roaring. You can warm yourself up."
Guts looked at him cautiously, unsure if the man was trying to get him into a vulnerable position. But no matter, Guts would be ready for it. Despite his reservations, Guts was getting cold. Reluctantly, he made his way into the cabin, leaving his weapon behind to wrap the cloak around him more tightly.
Guts scanned the cabin with wary eyes, trying to gauge the man's intentions. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his weapon, ready to defend himself if necessary. Despite the biting chill in the air, he hesitated to enter the cabin and leave the weapon outside. But his teeth were chattering and his fingers numb, so he reluctantly made his way inside, pulling the cloak tighter around his shivering body.
The man watched him go in before returning to the fallen Grimm. "What the hell was a creature that size doing on Patch? I'll probably never know. But I'm damn sure going to figure out how this kid managed to take it down easily," he muttered before following Guts inside.
As he entered the cabin, he found Guts huddled by the fire, trying to warm himself. The man shook his head and chuckled. "You know the light switch is right here, right?" he said, flipping the switch by the door. The look of surprise on the kid's face was priceless.
The man couldn't help but wonder how a kid who had lived in the woods all his life was unfamiliar with modern technology like electricity. But it wasn't his problem to worry about. He had more pressing matters to attend to.
"Names Qrow." Qrow's gruff voice echoed through the small room as he tried to engage Guts in conversation. Despite his efforts, Guts remained uninterested, his gaze fixed on the flickering flames in the fireplace. Frustrated, Qrow stood up, determined to find a way to break through the wall Guts had erected around himself.
"I'm going to get you some fresh clothes and start making some food," he said, his footsteps echoing down the hallway. "You can put my sword in the corner by the chair over there," he added before disappearing from view.
Guts continued to stare into the fire, lost in his thoughts. After what felt like an eternity, Qrow returned, tossing a bundle of clothes towards Guts before busying himself with preparing a simple stew for the both of them.
As they ate, Qrow saw the hunger in Guts' eyes as he ravenously devoured the food.
Finally, Qrow couldn't take it anymore. "Look, kid," he said, his voice laced with frustration. "I'm not going to hurt you-"
"Will you just cut that out?" Guts glared at Qrow, his eyes filled with annoyance and distrust.
A smirk spread across his face as Qrow lifted his arms above his head. "Well, well, well. It seems like you've finally decided to grace us with your voice," he said mockingly.
Guts turned his head away, his eyes drifting to the ground. "There's not much to say," he murmured.
Qrow leaned back in his chair, his eyes appraising Guts carefully. "Why don't we start with the basics then?" he suggested, his voice dripping with false calmness. "What's your name?"
Guts hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape. Finally, he answered in a low, gruff voice, "Guts."
Qrow raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "Interesting name. It's almost like you were named after a bird or something," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Guts' eyes narrowed into slits, his fists clenching at his sides. "Are you calling me dumb?" he growled, his voice dripping with anger.
"No, no, no," Qrow protested, holding his hands in surrender. "I didn't mean it like that. I just thought it was a strange name, that's all."
But Guts was not satisfied with this explanation. "You seem a bit dumb to me," he retorted, his voice dripping with contempt. "You're still calling me 'kid' when we're about the same age."
Qrow chuckled at the remark, shaking his head in disbelief. "Buddy, I don't know if you hit your head or something. You look like a normal 16-year-old to me."
Guts were aghast, his eyes widening as he turned to gaze upon his reflection in the window. Qrow had been right - he looked exactly like he was sixteen during the hundred-year war. Back before...Griffith.
"Hey, are you okay?" Qrow inquired, leaning forward across the table and tentatively placing a hand on Guts' shoulder.
Guts reacted with lightning speed, shoving Qrow away and spinning around to confront him.
"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Guts roared, his voice laced with anger and pain.
Qrow stood stunned, completely taken aback by Guts' explosive reaction. He could see the raw emotion etched on Guts' face, like a wounded animal lashing out in self-defense. Qrow couldn't help but wonder what he had gotten into as he gazed upon Guts' troubled expression.
Qrow leaned back in his chair across the table, his movements slow and measured as he tried not to agitate Guts further. "It's okay," he said calmly, soothingly.
Guts sneered in response, his emotions still running high.
Qrow furrowed his brow, wondering how Guts had managed to kill the Grimm. "I'm just curious," he said, "how were you able to take down that Grimm?"
Guts looked at him quizzically. "Grimm?" he repeated as if he wasn't familiar with the term.
Qrow's confusion deepened. Had this young man not heard of a Grimm before? "You know, the creature you defeated with my sword," he clarified.
Guts nodded, finally seeming to understand. "Oh, right. I've had a lot of experience hunting Monsters," he explained.
Qrow raised an eyebrow. "Are you a huntsman?" he asked.
Guts looked puzzled. "A what?" he inquired.
Qrow let out a sigh. "I guess that's a no, then," he said.
"But regardless of what it's called, I'm skilled at hunting whatever that thing was," Guts declared, standing up from the table. "I'll probably be doing it again soon, anyway."
"Thanks for the meal," he added, heading towards the door.
"Hey, wait!" Qrow called out, quickly getting up and running after him. "You don't have to leave just yet. Stay for the night. Besides, do you even know where you are?"
Guts froze with his hand on the doorknob, the cold metal biting into his skin as he fought to steady his racing thoughts. He had to admit it; Qrow was right. He needed weapons, gear, or at the very least some idea of where he was and how to survive in this unfamiliar land. The local flora and fauna seemed alien to him, and he had no means of defending himself against whatever dangers lurked in the shadows. He had been lucky to run into Qrow and knew he needed to take advantage of this opportunity.
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