[ There it is again; that default, that facade. Roland doesn't know what to make of it, other than he recognizes it to the point of being unnerved, inherently. A move he pulls out more often than not. Wipe the feelings away, let it wash over you, but never show it. He doesn't let up his stare, even as Inigo wipes his eyes.

The best he can do for him now was to avoid prodding the issue, and to let him be as he wished. This wasn't easy for either of them, but in Roland's acknowledgment of Inigo's coping mechanism for his pain, he understands that it isn't something you can force away from someone either. ]

He cares about you. His friends. All of this stuff - [ Roland looks back at the pile, if only to gesture at it with one sweeping motion. ] - and not a single thing for himself. Still. They're mostly supplies for the train, and what I think might be gifts to other passengers.

[ Tidus disappearing might have something to do with that. But he can't linger on that shadow. He would be engrossed by it, enveloped so deeply until he found an answer. ]

Don't worry about me. I'm okay. [ He nods, in affirmation. His stoicism returns, full force. ] Nothing a bit of counting can't fix, as Tidus would make fun of me for. Heh. [ It's a halfhearted attempt at humor, but it would do for now. ]