The accusation he should take offense at, but he can't quite get there. He's left, sometimes for days at a time, so there's no claiming he's always given him his full attention. His wanderings never take him so far away that he can't do what he was meant to do, but that doesn't prevent him from putting himself out of reach. The gulf between them was already wide, and it's widening. In the half-truths and untold truths, in the unkind reality of his existence here. It's not a life.

The individual he has to blame for that is very far away.

Jecht, similarly, continues to operate on borrowed time.

But thinking about that now doesn't help him confront his son.

"The only one?"

Tidus is standing to his right, so in order to face him properly, he has to turn away from the sea and the sky, and back toward the city. Perhaps he leaves out of guilt. It's just — There's so much of it, he can't dig his fingers in to disentangle one reason from another. What use is there in trying to save himself? It's already swallowed him up.

"You mean, pay more attention to you."