The most he'd ever really wanted her to understand about the situation he came from was that he'd rather be here than his original world. He'd said as much once before, and she hadn't pried at it, and for that he was satisfied. Because none of that mattered. The only bits of it that followed him here were for him to know about, and whatever he brought up around others.

So he just. Didn't.

It's hardly her fault for not knowing about it, when she'd been so kind as to not snoop around for that information.

Even then, even then, she's still apologizing for it. He's not prepared for how much that stings, but it does soften some of that terror out of his muscles enough that he can set aside that broom and reach a pair of shaky hands up to bring to a careful rest at Kyoko's back. "It's okay," he offers, tiny and wavering, for as steady as he tries to keep his voice. "You don't have to apologize, you couldn't have known."