Tidus is behaving, he's behaving! Staying put where he is, but watching Esteban as he continues to move with the little ball of light called Jumblie to guide him, or at least hitching a ride on the half-elf.

He's all nerves. Everything about him waiting to see their friend, to see Inigo, safe and alive. Here - after the days of worrying, panicking, believing the train would leave him and everyone else behind. The talks they'd shared before Inigo got locked out about how much Inigo didn't want to go -

This life on the train wasn't perfect, but for everything they suffered, the possibility of Inigo losing his choice that way was breaking Tidus apart more than if Inigo had left the platform any other way.

So, if this is going to turn into an Inigo sandwich, then he'll gladly take it; take any arm or other limb that drapes across him, and spread out one of his, a hand settling over on Esteban's side, resting on whatever patch of skin is there (which is more, thanks to the ruined shirt). He sucks in a breath, not looking as a small light appears at his chest, and a small being of hope pops out, coming to tackle Jumblie specifically.

(It's meant to be more of a hug than a tackle, but what are you going to do when you have a big body attached to widdle limbs.)

"Inigo." There's a wet note in that name, something close to tears, but not quite. "You're back. We got you."

And it's true. He's really here.