[ the question, innocently meant, hits charles in the chest like a proper punch — because, what the hell. so not only is junpei doing his level best to stop himself from killing anyone, he's also, what, concerned about how charles of all people is doing?

if he ever, ever finds who's responsible for this infection thing — well. the results won't be pretty for whoever that is, that's for sure.

it takes him a second before he lifts his head up, another second to find some approximation of a smile and inject some levity into his tone as he says, ]

Well, not the one here with weird alien things in my brain, am I? [ and then he adds, a little softer, ] You don't need to worry about me, yeah? I'm good. Just — my kind of problem's a problem I can actually, you know, hit with a cricket bat. Makes me feel right useless when it's something... else.