The sitting-room really is nice, if not very Akechi—other than in the piles of books that already spill from the plant-covered shelves, and the scattered papers and notebooks, covered in Akechi's handwriting, which is rounder than it once was. The view isn't great, lacking the view of the park and the southern exposure that his old apartment had.

And Akechi does notice, of course; his heart twists. "Oh, Ren," he murmurs, grieved, "Come on, let's get you sat down. I know this has been a lot."

He takes Ren's arm to lead him to the couch. Actually, there are a suspicious number of papers and notebooks. Many of them have gathered dust. As if they were put down, and forgotten, and replaced with new ones that were likewise forgotten.