[His head? Doppio gulps, looking up before he can help himself. That injury he'd seen... It really wasn't a normal cut. But even in the middle of this frightening realisation, something in him warms at one thing: I know you better than anyone else. It's true, it always has been, it still is, and sometimes he dares to wonder if it goes both ways. Or he did, before Giorno told him a name that nobody should know and Doppio was introduced to the stomach-turning idea that a group of good-for-nothing traitors know his name and his face--

... But that's still all that it is, isn't it? A name and a face. It matters, of course, because these are things the Boss has protected relentlessly for so long... but it doesn't mean they know him better than Doppio does.

Doppio realises the Boss is moving and his ears twitch, turning in an attempt to capture his voice better. Right. Because they're in the same room. And that is how sound works.

His earlier thoughts and his current thoughts and the laws of physics crash together to abruptly remind Doppio of how overwhelmed he feels, and it takes him a moment or two to remember he's supposed to be saying things.

He wonders if he should reserve that chair for the Boss's exclusive use.]

... It was a while ago. Maybe a year? He said... I don't really remember, but--

[He does remember one thing.

Javert knew where Doppio was injured.]

I... I think it happened after I'd been out of it for a while that time, too.