[He comes to rest his head on Doppio's shoulder, his breaths rapid as a flurry of words pour from him.]

I'm... exhausted, Doppio. The past strangles me despite my best attempts. I see it everywhere — in everything. I thought I had triumphed over it. I'd thought it was over, but it still...

[How can he defeat an enemy that only exists in his head? He could leave right now and hunt Giorno Giovanna down for what he did to him, and it wouldn't change a single thing. What hurts him now is memory alone — intangible and insurmountable. It isn't about the werewolf, nor is it about the dead man she sliced into. The broadcast should have been such an inconsequential thing; instead, it is as a reminder.

It happened to him before.

It could happen to him again.]

I want to— to sleep. To put my trust in you fully, to rely on you as I once did, but...

[...but that isn't possible anymore.]