[ It's terrible, and it jarrs him to hear. All that pain... more than he's ever been through, more than almost anyone he knows has been through. He watches, looks around for the origin of the voice only for his eyes to return to Jack, keening, cowering. Sometimes, he's had to pull himself together to face something more powerful than himself with no fear - he pulls from that same place now, too. Picks his way carefully into the cavern, towards Jack and the magus, and only looks at the latter when spoken to.

The suggestion gives him pause, but he also thinks he... it? may have a point. Sometimes people have difficulty seeing what's right in front of them. Sometimes they don't want to see. Totsuka finds he picks his words as carefully as his steps. ]

I'm not sure I can. But I can try.

[ And he doesn't continue until he's past the first ice spikes, frost crunching under his sneakers. ]

I think what he's getting at is that... well, that knowing won't make what you've gone through un-happen.