[He doesn't say it's okay. He doesn't know if it is or not; he doesn't know what's in Ferran's head right now. But he does manage a small, tight smile at the sight of Ferran taking the girls' hands. It helps, he thinks, at least a little. Just — contact with somebody else alive.]

[Reaching across the space between them, he kicks Ferran's calf lightly with his toe.] Bullshit, [he manages, hoarsely, because it is bullshit, and squeezes both of the girls' hands. Squeeze circle.]

[To Sayori, fucking finally:] I hate that they always squeeze four of us in here. It's bad luck, y'know? Like they're trying to get us killed out there. [Which sounds bonkers except for the obvious stress in his voice. At the very least, he believes it.]