[ Even if Matt wanted to hang onto his own bristly hurt--if you've managed, so fucking special--Gen's clear pain would make it difficult. How is he supposed to walk away from someone hurting like this? Past that, it's hard to make out what Gen might be thinking. He strikes Matt as a thrumming ball of energy: oscillating around some unknowable core, spiking out in sudden, cosine peaks of hostility.

As is often the case with his fellow Kenoma (let's be real, with people in general) Matt is cognizant of how much he doesn't know. Gen is as oblique to him as a stone wall. ]

I know you can manage, [ he says after a moment. That seems obvious to him, but maybe it bears saying. ] I just think ...

From a tactician's point of view, it's like. I have some experience with this shit, so why shouldn't you benefit from it? If anything that's helped me helps you, it could get you feeling better--and fighting better--more quickly. That benefits everybody.