Toma would absolutely deny the possibility of friendship if it were presented, but that mostly has to do with his deep-seated aversion to forming any personal connection that isn't with his brother.

Friendship is for idiots, and whatever the hell happened with certain people on a certain island was something else and doesn't count.

"I'd rather not, no." He, indeed, doesn't look as he hears the shuffling of fabric - which means he doesn't see that gesture, either, but he works it out with a glance at the surrounding walls and moves to another fountain to finish undressing.

As soon as he's stripped off the last of his blood-soaked clothing, he undoes his thin braid and ducks under the stream of water, eyes squeezed shut against the now-bloodied water spilling over his face. Despite that, though, he lets out a quiet, relieved breath, just at feeling the blood and sweat start to release their dried, sticky grip on his hair and skin.