Tidus doesn't hear him coming. The world around him is enough to blot out other sounds, anything that isn't the sky or the sea. He could do this for days, just watching the way the waves lap gently up the sand, roll back into themselves. In Zanarkand, there were no beaches. There were the brushes along pier walls and ship hulls, the endless ocean all around--and strange, how a sight he's never really been familiar with feels so much like home. Feels so much like Spira, the lands that fell out into the seas.

Lost in that dream, he stirs only as the figure comes beside him and drops down, limbs drawing inward. Tidus looks over, and at first, he does accept it. Inigo, of course he'd accept Inigo coming to sit with him; but it's a moment that lasts for just a second, when the tension radiates off his posture, the pull of his face hidden near by his arms. Tidus looks closer and he sees, and there the concern comes, confusion settling on his lips before he gets to speak.

"--Inigo? What happened?"

If their arms weren't so close already, he'd touch him, but instead he sits a little leaned forward, waiting and worried.