[ —Oh.

It's not like he can't understand. If anything, he ought to understand more than anyone what it feels like to be abruptly left behind without any warning, the sole person remaining after everyone else has vanished without a trace. The misery that threatens to pull everything under into its depths, the unreasonable fear of losing even more despite any lack of evidence pointing to the contrary.

Worry turns to guilt, and that in turn shifts to a heavy sorrow. The trials of that morning seem so distant now, his own predicament paling in the wake of the wreckage left behind.

His free hand finally loosens, fingers lifting to curl lightly over the ones tugging at his shirt hem. Not to stop the idle movements of Dokja's hands, but simply to provide another layer of reassurance. ]

I can't promise I won't disappear again. [ He doesn't have the knowledge nor the power to guarantee it, and he's never been in the habit of making promises he can't keep. ] But I won't go anywhere without telling you beforehand, while I'm here.

[ That much he can offer freely. ]

So you don't need to worry so much.