He doesn't cry like he did the day he got here. Instead, tears seep silently into the cloth of Akechi's pants. It feels like the Shadow's anguish is part of him now, ever since he breathed it in, making a home for itself at the hollow center of his heart.

"I'm sorry," he says. It's probably too muffled to make out; he tilts his head, just barely, and tries again. "I'm sorry."