[ It does take a long time for him to lift his head, and when he does–

It's the sort of pain he hasn't seen or heard on Akira since those flowers and vines were doing their very best to choke them.

He winces for having been the one to cause it this time, but he'd never make a different choice. That's all the trouble, isn't it? Every time he does something to help Akira or Rumi, it hurts them just as much. ]

Kurusu...

[ A deep inhale, a slow exhale, and he straightens his back to sit upright. Looks Akira dead in the eye, tone gentle even though his resolve is unwavering. ]

I would never make you fight my battles for me, especially not when they're a product of my own cognition. [ The doppelgangers have to be. This place preys on their memories, their fears, their regrets. ] I appreciate that you would have... I really do, more than I can say. But...

[ He's at a loss for words for a moment, before he reminds himself for the hundredth time since their reunion that he will be more honest with this Akira than he was with his own. ]

You already do so much for me. I couldn't ask you to do something like that, too.