[ The silence was, indeed, far too long for Renji. But he dared not break it, for fear that if he said anything then Keigo would clam up again, dive under the covers and lock him out. Instead his hands kept their too firm grip around his shoulders, anxiety written in the creases in his brow which only deepened at Keigo's answer. ]

Why? Why would you— [ Renji stopped himself, then swallowed. No, he didn't need an answer to that. He already knew the reason. He lowered his head, eyes dipping from the furrowed, half-lucid expression on his face to the broken quills and raw, puckered skin. ]

...I'm sorry, Keigo.

[ Renji's head bowed further, his hands slipping down his forearms and past his wrists until his palms lay flat on the bed. He was being an idiot and he knew it, but more than that he wasn't thinking about Keigo at all. How someone as vibrant as him needed to be with people, how he already treated himself like a burden without thinking he needed to be locked up in a room too. ]

I didn't know. I didn't think... [ Renji's fists clenched on the bed sheets. ] ...about how hard this was for you.