His other arm reflexively came up to grab Kengo's arm. Instead of pushing Kengo away, after a moment, his fingers curled tightly until he wasn't holding anything more than Kengo's shirt, just a fist with fabric in the way. All the tension focused into his hands; his jaw relaxed despite himself even though he knew he shouldn't; he should pull away immediately and explain himself—

He couldn't move, because Kengo was holding him, and because it wasn't just Ryusei who needed to explain.

But because they were still on an infirmary bed and because he was sure Kengo didn't want to feel what a non-rebreather mask felt like, Ryusei turned his head to the side, leaning back so he wouldn't hit his head or hit Kengo's head. He forced himself to take several deep breaths before he could speak. "I-I'm sorry."