Sizhui cries and cries, so overcome that it's difficult for him to even stay standing, yet he manages. He wipes his face with his sleeves, but no matter how much he tries, more tears replace what he clears away, which only furthers his confusion in the long run. Still, he doesn't stop, nor does he let himself get distracted, not until he hears that noise.

Finally, he yanks his head up, breathing heavy and watery, his eyes wide as he watches Koro crawl toward him, his heartbeat thrumming faster than a hummingbird's wings, the butterflies in his stomach fluttering so much, it's maddening.

For what it's worth, Sizhui's standing in place rather than turning to flee, even if he's also trembling the whole time Koro's bridging the distance between them. The exhale he lets out shakes too, conveying his raw emotion, both the apprehensiveness and his grief-stricken state.

He wants to tell him to stop, to stay away, except his voice won't work and, try as he might to ignore it, the fact still stands: Koro had protected him. It's the least he can do to see what it is he plans on doing next.