[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.

Comments

[willowandoak]

[ Damn. He was kinda hoping Akechi forgot about that. ]

...I'm not gonna stab you unless you touch me when I'm not expecting it. Then I can't make any promises. But I didn't stab you that time, so you never know.

[pheasantboy]

[He finishes up the last few swabs, right down to the little fennec fox scratches, drops the used swabs on the coffee table, and sits back.]

...there we are. I'm afraid your shirt has seen better days. Not all wounds are so easily fixed, are they?

[And what a terribly strange thought that is. It feels otherwordly, like it should be too big for his head.]

[willowandoak]

[ He frowns. ]

No. I can mend my shirt, but. Good thing I didn't need stitches, now that you mention it. Or surgery. Or. Get my arm eaten by an otter, I don't know.

[pheasantboy]

[All right, he can't help smiling at that.]

Knowing you, you'd have done fine with just the one. And I'm sure the risk won't keep you from pestering those poor underfed otters.

[willowandoak]

That's a good idea, actually. Bringing them food. Maybe they'll be too distracted to attack. I'll have to look up what otters even eat...

[pheasantboy]

People.

[To be honest, even back home he was prone to jokes like this. Must have been all those mystery novels.]

[willowandoak]

[ Ren snorts with surprised laughter. Of all the Akechis to come out with that... ]

Explains a lot. No wonder they're going hungry here.

[pheasantboy]

[We'll need to start feeding the inhabitants to them, he almost, almost says. But then he remembers what Ren said—his Ren, real Ren, who cried himself to sleep next door; he retreats into despond.]

Do you mind if I ask you something? I can offer you coffee too, as long as you don't mind instant.

[willowandoak]

[ Could they be getting round to what's upsetting Akechi...? Ren doesn't want to make assumptions, especially with this particularly unpredictable guy, but it sounds promising. ]

Sure. And yeah, I'll take some coffee.

[pheasantboy]

I'm glad. Come on, let's go through to the kitchen.

[You can see it through the door behind the sofa. It, too, has a definite woody feel. He gets up and goes through.]

[willowandoak]

[ Ren wanders after him, flexing his newly tended-to hands, feeling the lingering sting of the antiseptic. In the kitchen, he leans against the counter and waits for Akechi to ask his question, or maybe, knowing him, to start talking about coffee instead. ]

[pheasantboy]

I should warn you, I really am terrible at this. Also, I'm afraid I don't have milk. I should fix that.

[Pressing the heat button on the hot water machine, he pulls down two mugs, with their scatter of green leaves, and starts to mess with coffee granules and set out sugar. But then, with a rather beadier eye, he focuses on Ren with the spoon in his hand.]

You weren't pleased. When I said Ren was here. Why not?

[willowandoak]

[ ...Oops.

He frowns skeptically to himself, rolling the question and its possible answers around in his head. ] I dunno if I can answer that meaningfully without making you blank out. I can still try, though?

[ There's also the matter of not wanting to say anything too scathing about Akechi's Ren to his face, but that's easier to navigate. ]

[pheasantboy]

What if I tell you what I know first?

[That question never grated on him before. He screws the jar of coffee shut, and slots it back into the cupboard.]

Ren seems to have had quite the day, before he found me. He mentioned a number of disagreements with others, which I have to say I found quite sympathetic. That is, until he mentioned that someone tried to kill him. I suppose you know nothing about that?

[It's not an accusation, not exactly. Then again, there was that stabbing business with this Ren.]

[willowandoak]

What?

[ No, he's genuinely taken aback by that. Not as appalled by the thought of murder as some might be, but it does trouble him. Until now, they've all managed not to kill each other, despite tensions that have sometimes run high. The first murder could start a trend.

Also, Sparrow would be upset. ]

Who was it?

[pheasantboy]

[All right, he sighs with relief, visibly relieved that it wasn't this Ren.]

He wouldn't say. Tried to be understanding about it. But I think we should find out, don't you?

[The machine beeps, and he takes the cups over to fill them.]

I'm glad it wasn't you, for what it's worth.

[willowandoak]

[ He nods slowly. ] Yeah, I think so too.

[ He has a few candidates in mind already. That Akechi isn't among them, which is a shame because he'd love to be able to pin it on him.

His next words are in a drier tone. ] He was understanding, huh.

[pheasantboy]

[He doesn't remember how the board described him (the "pleasant" one), or he might have quoted that. But he remembers enough; his voice dries out in turn, just a bit, as water rushes into a mug.]

Quite in character, don't you think? For one of us to be unable to recall our own attempted murder.

[Oh, Akechi. But he hands over the mug all the same, giving it a little stir.]

Here you are. Help yourself to sugar.

[willowandoak]

Thanks. [ He adds a generous spoonful of sugar into his mug, and then another. Leblanc's coffee has ruined him.

It's drinkable, with all the sugar added. Even palatable, in its own way. Ren's had worse. He disguises his hesitation by taking a long, considering sip. Then: ] Is he like you, then? Forgetful?

[ "Forgetful" is certainly one way of putting it. ]

[pheasantboy]

[Akechi thinks about this; he really does. Is Ren like him? He cradles his own mug, still empty but for the coffee granules, in his hands.]

At home, I thought he was.

[But then Ren arrived here. And he was shocked by what Akechi is, wasn't he? It doesn't prove anything, but...]

[willowandoak]

You thought that at home, or he was like that at home?

[ He would still be happy to see Akechi's Ren disemboweled, but he's doing a better job now of hiding it. As well as... that... he also finds that he's curious. ]

[pheasantboy]

It was—complicated. [He turns again, to run hot water into his own cup.]

Are you sure you want to listen to all of this?

[willowandoak]

Sure, if you wanna tell me. We're friends, right?

[ And that's what friends do, or something. He takes another sip of coffee. It gets slightly worse every time, but he'll be able to finish it, he's pretty sure. ]

[pheasantboy]

[Friends? Really? Despite himself, he glows. Nobody's said that to him since he arrived.]

Well, if you say so.

[Turning back to lean against the counter, he stirs his cup, setting down the spoon on a little tray before cradling the hot cup in his hands; he looks more serious.]

You know, I can't even tell if I'm remembering right. And it seems so normal it should work that way.

[willowandoak]

[ Ren just nods, encouraging Akechi to keep going. It's not surprising that he finds that normal, given everything else. ]