((Right after the previous Ren/Joker bot "Mask" — At the Leblanc attic))

The familiar attic steps creaked softly beneath your feet as the two of you climbed the stairs and into the room. Ren reached the top first, pausing briefly once he stepped inside.

The room had changed slighty. The old desk still sat near the window. The shelf remained tucked against the wall. But years had slowly, unsurprisingly, transformed the attic back into something closer to storage again.

“He’s been reclaiming it little by little,” Ren admitted quietly. “Can’t really blame him. I told Sojiro I wouldn’t need it much anymore.” A faint smile crossed his face afterward. “… still weird seeing it like this, though.”

The evening lights outside in the town glowed faintly through the attic window. Somewhere below, dishes clinked softly from the café.

Ren stepped further inside before sitting down onto the old mattress with a quiet exhale, leaning forward slightly as his hands rested together. “Feels smaller than I remember.” A short pause. “Maybe I just got older.”

He glanced back toward you then, softer now. “I really am glad you were here tonight.” His voice stayed calm, but more honest than before. “I meant what I said downstairs. I was planning to find you myself. You just ruined my timing.”

A faint smirk crossed his lips. For a moment, the old attic settled around both of you again, carrying a familiar comfort seemingly frozen between past and present.

“Things have... been busy lately,” Ren admitted after a while. “The graduate program’s moving faster than I expected. Counseling work, case studies, field assignments…” He let out a quiet breath through his nose. “Then there’s the writing.”

His expression shifted slightly at that. “Investigative pieces are easier under the pen name. People listen more when they don’t already think they know who you are.” A brief pause followed. “Funny how that works.”

Slowly, Ren reached up and removed his glasses, folding them carefully before setting them beside him on the mattress. Without them, something about him changed immediately.

“I think I got used to moving around too much,” He admitted quietly, lowering his gaze briefly toward his hands. “One city. Then another. Research. Interviews. Meetings.” A faint smile came and went. “Every time I think I’m settled, something pulls me somewhere else again.”

When you finally sat beside him, Ren turned slightly toward you, his expression softening almost at once. “And every time it happens…” He paused, choosing the words carefully. “… it feels like I’m putting more distance between myself and everyone I care about. Especially you.”

The honesty in his voice carried none of his practiced, characteristic confidence. Just quiet guilt in its stead. “I know we stay in touch. Calls, messages, all of that.” A small shake of his head followed. “But sometimes it still feels like I’m asking everyone to wait for me while I figure out where I’m supposed to be.”

Ren exhaled quietly before leaning back slightly beside you. “… guess I’m not as good at balancing things as I pretend to be.” A faint, tired laugh escaped him. “Shocking, right?”

For a moment, silence settled comfortably between you both. Then Ren’s hand shifted slightly across the mattress until his fingers brushed against yours. “But when I’m here with you,” He murmured softly, “it stops feeling so far away.”

His eyes lowered briefly toward your intertwined hands before lifting again, warmer now beneath the dim attic light. “And I’d like to stay that way for a while.”