From the way he looked at her, it was quite clear the question didn't make sense to him. He was silent for several moments, and when he did answer, it was slow and careful, picking his way through the words.

"I can't be one and not the other. No more than we can stop being an-tet. I was their dinh when we were boys, long before I won my guns, and I will be their dinh until our tet is broken. And I am no less their friend when I am talking to them dan-dinh, or when we are fighting together. And I am no less their dinh when we are shooting targets together, or mocking one another." He couldn't help feeling that he was failing to articulate just how difficult he found the question. He knew what she meant by it, but the idea of that friendship being separate from their dynamics as a tet simply wasn't one he could wrap his head around.