Tidus doesn't have the strength for it--if that what it is, this aversion to turn and look Inigo in the face, to acknowledge his presence beside him. But he doesn't reconsider the hand, though his grip is nothing at first, just one held in another.

But when Inigo speaks his reassurance, his belief--Tidus laughs lightly, short and fond. A tug of his lips that could be a smile, his eyes closing for the dip of his head that might be a nod. There and then gone, and then Tidus squeezes Inigo's hand.

"Yeah. The people who meant something to you...they're always with you."

He allows a pause of air with those words, but then he's moving, though not with any particular rush; a "C'mon" and his free hand pressing on the button to slide open the door, the humming of the void outside a whisper to the ears in the space between the cars.

Inigo's got a room to get them to, even if Tidus will take the lead on getting them going.