[ic] all the voices mistaken

[pheasantboy]

In the end, they got Ren settled into bed, with a glass of water and his phone—though a big part of Akechi would have been far more comfortable if that glass was a sippy cup. He wanted to stay, to be on hand, but he didn't need to be told crowding Ren wouldn't be for the best. And he can be on hand just as well downstairs in the park as in his apartment.

So here he is, sitting on a park bench with his head in his hands, having vaulted the closed park gate as if he's done it a thousand times before—which may not even be untrue. Besides his fear for Ren, the things he's learned rotate in his head. He notices his episodes, now—that never happened before. And this thing Ren believes he did... what can it have been? Something everyone but him knows about, clearly. Something bad enough to make them hate him? Even to kill him?

Perhaps not coincidentally, he's sitting on the same bench another Akechi was feeding the birds from, long ago. The bag of breadcrumbs he forgot earlier has vanished, as if it never was.

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[willowandoak]

Yet again Ren emerges from the zoo with his hands covered in scratches and the sleeves of his overshirt torn, only to find an Akechi sitting on that same damn bench. But before the complicated hatred and hurt That Akechi causes can really bubble to the front of his mind, he takes in the posture and the hint of sweater vest he can see beneath the jacket and comes to a different conclusion.

"Hey, man," he calls as he approaches, as much not to startle Akechi as anything else. Ren fucking hates being startled. "Been a while."

[pheasantboy]

But this Akechi, today, looks as if it would take a meteor strike to startle him; he just looks tiredly up, as if he's finally been crushed. It's that Ren, he registers—before the sadness in his eyes clears, and he blinks.

"It has. Goodness, what happened to you?" He sounds so... perfunctory. Almost like a different person.

[willowandoak]

"There's a zoo back there." He hooks a thumb over his shoulder. And that's all he says about that, though amusement dances in his eyes. "Can I sit down?"

[pheasantboy]

Can I stop you? he almost says. But no, that's not like him. "Please," he says instead, gesturing to the empty half of the bench. He watches Ren sit with a terrible loneliness.

"I know the zoo. I have to say, I'm not usually on the menu."

[willowandoak]

"You should try it," Ren says, remembering the blinding speed with which Akechi leapt out of the way of his knife. "It's fun. Petting animals you don't usually get to pet, and all that."

It's weird, to see this Akechi so melancholy. Ren tilts his head as he examines him. "But maybe you'd rather talk about what's going on with you?"

[pheasantboy]

But he shakes his head quickly, smile flashing to life, uncanny for how obviously fake it is from this Akechi. "Oh, no! I'd rather not dwell."

As if dwelling has ever been something he had to think about. And then, of course, he opens his eyes again, and looks Ren in the face with that same sadness. He's so... cheerful. So unlike his own Ren, who's hopefully asleep in bed.

"Uh. Tell me about these animals you petted, instead. It looks as if they weren't exactly enthusiastic."

[willowandoak]

Ren lets it go for the moment, then. But he's gonna circle back round to it.

"They were okay, mostly. The tanuki and the fennec fox were cute. It was kinda like animal therapy." He may seem cheerful, but he looks like he hasn't been sleeping well—though maybe Akechi won't notice that. "It's the otters that always get pissed off."

[pheasantboy]

He's noticed, but honestly, a lot of the "real people" here look as if they don't sleep. And compared to his own Ren, this Ren is the picture of psychological health.

"I'm surprised you aren't drenched, as well as torn up, petting a wild otter." Plus, animal therapy for whom, exactly? "Isn't it stressful for them?"

[willowandoak]

"Ah... long story short, they chased me out of the water." He wasn't wearing his overshirt at first, and put it back on in an attempt to save himself. It... kind of worked?

As for the second question: "And they're in those tiny little enclosures all day. Some novelty should be good for them, if anything."

[pheasantboy]

"Well, there's novelty, and then there's blind terror." He summons a smile, though, pallid as it is; the image of Ren being chased out of the water is quite something.

But he sighs. This is how Ren should be, he thinks—smiling and chasing otters. More than that, he feels like it's how Ren was. But why does he think that?

He glances to the side, frowning in the twilight.

[willowandoak]

It's honestly starting to get kind of worrying, the way Akechi is acting. "Hey," Ren says quietly. "What's up?"

[pheasantboy]

He blinks back and, faced with a question, he answers it. "I was just thinking... you seem so happy. Compared to my Ren, I mean. Despite the animal bites."

Actually, they look quite nasty. "Have you cleaned those, by the way?"

[willowandoak]

"They'll be fine." Probably. They were fine last time, anyway. What's more interesting to him is the claim that he seems happy. It's working, he thinks dryly—and then the rest of the sentence catches up with him.

"Huh. Was he sad back home?" Not that he doesn't fucking deserve it, but Ren kind of thought... he doesn't know. He doesn't know anything much about Akechi's world, really. But he's surprised Akechi knows that.

[pheasantboy]

"We knew he wasn't well at home," Akechi replies quietly, still examining Ren's wrists and hands. "But now he's here, and ... somehow it's even worse."

He sighs again, straightening up. Though his Ren's presence has shocked him, he's still driven to seek distraction, and would honestly offer regardless. "Listen, my apartment is just across the street. Let me patch these up for you."

It's possible he just needs to do something for a Ren; any Ren. Plus, he really shouldn't be down here, no matter how confining his apartment felt.

[willowandoak]

"He's here?"

He hasn't been sleeping well, which has been fucking him up in various ways—and maybe the most annoying one is that he can't keep his thoughts totally hidden behind the mask of his face anymore. But he still doesn't have much of a reaction, in all honesty. His eyelids flicker a little, maybe. But it's subtle, and gone quickly.

"Sure, if you want. I appreciate it." Mostly, he thinks it'll be good for Akechi to have something to do, but it can't hurt. He doesn't think Maruki would make Akechi bad at basic first aid. "Should I congratulate you? You don't look as happy about it as Crow was."

[pheasantboy]

...and what was that? He mentioned his Ren, and this other Ren flinched, even if Akechi can't quite put his finger on what he saw.

"I'm glad he's here, of course. He needs me." Are you glad he's here?, he very much wants to ask. Instead, he gets to his feet, nodding in the direction of the closed gate.

"Come on. It's getting dark, anyway, and those injuries really do need seeing to." With that, he heads for the gate.

[willowandoak]

Ren follows. Normally, he would slide his hands into the pockets of his jeans, but that sounds like it would hurt, so he doesn't. "I've had worse than a few animal bites," he says. "If you're glad he's here, then congrats."

He means that, at least. There's not any more harm Akechi's Ren can do, without a Maruki here to facilitate it. So he might as well be here, making Akechi... happy, if you can call this happiness. Ren's not convinced.

[pheasantboy]

It doesn't take long for them to reach the top of what, all things considered, is quite a nice apartment building—the floors in the corridor are carpeted, for instance, and nobody's pissed in the elevator.

None of this occurs to Akechi, who stops at the second-last door on the top floor to listen, holding up his hand for silence.

[willowandoak]

It has an elevator, which sets it above anywhere Ren lived back home. He opens his mouth when Akechi stops in front of the door, only to close it again at the request for silence.

Nothing happens. Ren doesn't speak, but he frowns. Is that Akechi's apartment, even? Or is it... not?

[pheasantboy]

And Akechi listens, for just long enough to establish that nobody's smashing the furniture or sobbing their heart out. Then, with a sigh of relief, he turns to his own unlocked door. "Come in, please."

For the second time that day, he gets to show his apartment, with all the pine and the abundant houseplants, to a Ren. "This is it. Home, sweet home."—he says the last in English, before stepping out of his shoes.

[willowandoak]

So that's definitely the other Ren's apartment, then. Ren kicks his shoes into a corner of the genkan, looking around with raised eyebrows. "Didn't know you were into gardening."

[pheasantboy]

"You know," he says, heading into the bathroom to wash his hands and fetch the first-aid kit, "that's exactly what he said. What is it about me that gives the impression I don't garden?"

He runs the hot tap, but the door's open; they can still talk. The bathroom is, if anything, even more woody than the rest of the apartment.

[willowandoak]

Ren takes a seat on the couch and eyes all the notebooks. Something is going on there, but he has a feeling that he shouldn't ask. It sets off his blankout senses, or something.

"The clothes," he says. "They get dirty too easy. Plus, I gave my Akechi a plant once and I think it freaked him out."

[pheasantboy]

"You did?" Drying his hands, he comes through to the sitting-room with the first aid box. "Did he not know how to care for it, or...?"

Then he stops. The sight of another Ren on his couch twists his heart.

[willowandoak]

"...What?" He glances around, looking for the cause of Akechi's silence. "Should I sit somewhere else?"