Inigo's cheeks are still a little pink when he turns back to look, despite not having looked. He's still quite embarrassed just about the topic, after all. But when Tidus pulls his shorts slightly down like that, Inigo stares at the scar.

For a moment he's quiet, but then he forces the corners of his mouth to tug up just a little despite his awkwardness. "Yeah, I bet there's a you walking around in a slightly different world who has a huge problem."

It's the weakest attempt at a joke possible, not convincing at all, but what else is Inigo supposed to do when he's so nervous? Even though Tidus says he's not going to say anything, it's hard for Inigo's anxious wreck of a mind to not imagine the horrible, yet objectively true things Tidus might think when he sees it.

.. but not having trust in a friend would be even worse.

He sucks in a shakey breath. "Alright." Even as he says it, he's still not fully convinced. "I'm.. I'm really insecure about this, so.. you know.." He bends his head, the colour on his cheeks intensifying again. ".. be nice."

Inigo forces himself to just not think. Just do it. He puts his hands on the bottom of his shirt and pulls it upwards over his head and off in one smooth motion.

Maybe he was exaggerating a bit in his fear, since nothing on Inigo's chest looks too gruesome to anyone used to battle, most likely. It's more just the sheer amount of scars present. Many cuts of swords and lances and axes and every kind of weaponry imaginable that were never healed, some even overlapping. The most prominent one is a claw-like mark that drags down from his shoulder all the way to his belly button.

He looks away, finding himself absolutely unable to look Tidus in the eyes. He doesn't want to know what he might find there.