He is determined, one foot, another food. He wants to turn and flee, he wants to cry. But everyone here, they fought hard. As much as he hated that a fight had happened at all he knew everyone had tried to protect each other and this world.

The least he can do is walk to the train without falling. He clings to Gyousou, talking tiny stumbling steps.

He doesn't want to look, but at the same time he does. Wants to pick out faces in those cleaning up around them, reassure himself that people are alright.