Isn't that a scary reminder, a thought, a memory that stirs up emotions and dismissals that come from the recollection too. Then we'd just be...gone. But no, never; it's not a truth or outcome that Tidus wants to acknowledge just yet. That there isn't a way to save anyone, that there's nothing they can do. We don't know that, and there's too many people gone before them for Tidus to give up without trying.

What is trying, what is having the capabilities to do anything - Tidus doesn't know, but his emotions and reactions need no ground to thrive.

Though, his body does. A good thing that their path between spaces allows Jingyi the time to deposit Tidus, before he disappears. A state he would be more in a fuss about, if travelling the void wasn't a constant job to think about anything but the void, pressing over you, draining you through its exposure. So even as he sees Jingyi leave, a process that he's at least used to, to not have more than the smallest flutter in his gut to see, he sits without care for how he must look - or have looked - to Wuxian currently.

"Jingyi would want us to keep going."

Someone will find him in luggage, and Jingyi's health is the last that needs to be worried over. But they're still not done, are they? And that last thought, of people disappearing, losing people - Tidus considers standing, but brings out instead a small incense pot, working to bring a small flame from magic he's not very good at, but should be plenty to get the trail inside burning. A means of recovering some, just so they can keep going, no stop - do what they have to.

While he has that nagging, a gnawing worry in his head of losing anyone. It might be guilt too, Tidus knowing too well what it's like to disappear on others - and he regrets it, wishes there was another way, wouldn't wish that on anyone.