An unassuming appearance is useful is many situations, be it monster-filled corridors or the crowded halls of a high school. The same can be said for having a certain sense of adaptability, being able to switch from serious-minded leader to good-natured jesting friend at a moment’s notice. Ren has been left with plenty of experience in both aspects after the past year of probation in Tokyo and the legal ordeals that preceded it.

Falling into a near-catatonic daze after being stuck with a mystery syringe, however, is not an ideal situation, even if Ren were not also traipsing through an untold pit of monsters. He blinks rapidly when shaken, coming back to himself with more of a delay than he’d prefer.

“Hm? Sorry, I’m OK.” He nods. “Just a little dizzy. I’m good now.”

He is decidedly not good now. The darkness of the rooms and halls, the syringes, even the restraints that look like alien tentacles in the dim lighting - all of it pushes a wave of anxiety through his nerves, palpable thanks to the effects of whatever was that needle introduced to his body.

Truth serum, he thinks. Isn’t that what they said it was? Something to “loosen that punk-ass tongue” of his? Asshole cops.

“Are you doing OK? We could find somewhere to rest for a minute if you’d like.”