He couldn't believe how things had escalated to this point. As soon as he had noticed movement in the room and opened his eyes, his first instinct had been concern. There was Jiho, her hand clutching a peculiar, transparent, brittle object. He knew such a thing couldn't be made here; it had to come from somewhere else. Why did Jiho have it, and why did she look so pained? Her frown struck him deeply.
He didn't understand what had ignited this sudden, inexplicable urge within him. All he knew was that he felt a desperate need to divert Jiho's attention toward him, even if it meant resorting to something as childish as making a silly gesture. He didn't fully grasp why, but the impulse to make her look away from her pain, to make her focus on him instead, was overpowering.