[Distance, Junpei thinks, is the key item here. The first time he'd been kidnapped and trapped with a bunch of strangers, the adrenaline rush of making it out alive had been practically a high, and it crashed just as suddenly after only a few days. The events in the bunker hadn't ended with as much sense of accomplishment, not really, even if they were alive— but here and now he can look at Charles so upset about it and remember with perfect clarity the utter lack of care with which they threw themselves back and forth across the histories, and it concerns him to think that maybe he should feel... more? Nothing they did down there was normal, and so much of it sits rotten and heavy in his stomach, and yet it's Charles who looks like he's about to cry.

Junpei thinks, well, maybe a few months is still too little distance, or maybe something inside of him is still broken, a mess he can only look at and sit in the middle of and not pick up properly, like he should. Either way.]

I know it sucks, [he says, and sighs. He stops himself from saying it sucks even more for Akane, burdened with the future as well as the expanse of the present; another one of those things that might not go over well. Charles being this upset is already pretty bad...]

Mostly I just try not to think about it, [although the pure exhaustion that comes through with that sentiment shwos how well that works. He shifts to lie back and stare up at the ceiling, dragging their joined hands to his chest and covering them with his other one again; no one is going anywhere, thanks.]

Still, it's... I mean, if I forget everything that happened, what's left? The "game" might have been fucked up and awful, but Carlos and Akane and the rest—I don't want to forget about them.

[Just like this place, and the gnosia; horrible, terrible week, but would he wipe those memories if it meant forgetting what Charles did for him? No, he couldn't.]