"I'm never--forgiving--" He sniffed, then stopped his speech, clinging to Fugo as he let stupid, too long-held tears fall. And it was undignified, but wasn't he always? Let people call him a crybaby. They'd all made him cry since he arrived, and now all that was left was Trish. It made him cry harder, knowing that out there somewhere she was totally alone, now. Fugo had stoked the fire Buccellati lit, had made Narancia learn when he was often unteachable. He kept the faith even when they had it out. Being without him was devastating.

"I missed you. I don't want you to leave again." Because he was clearly real, and right there, and crying just like Narancia was.