[ What's wrong? He hurt you, that's what's wrong. He became him again when he thought that part of him was left behind in that world and gone for good and he hurt you. There's nothing... he can't--

He shakes his head at first against the crook of his neck, tears already staining the material there before he feels Shouto's hands at his face and lets him tip his head back. Conflicted, so torn and dismayed still, but he shakes his head again at his question. ]

He isn't— [ is he? ] ...I don't know.

The whole time... everything here, being here— [ He's tripping over his words slightly, still shaking his head lightly as if in denial. ] When I came into being here he wasn't in me anymore. It was just me. It's supposed to be just me.

[ The one saving grace, the thing that let him breathe again to realize that here he was no longer plagued by that dark passenger anymore. No more shadows in the mirror. No more rapid countdown on his remaining days.

No more being a danger to people he cares about.

He brings his hands up to cover Shouto's on his face lightly with his own, leaning into his hands as he bows his head and continues to shake it. Tears drip between both their fingers. ]

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.