It's never nothing. Ren knows. Even if it seems or feels like nothing, brains are good at scaring themselves, unless taught otherwise. It's easier to see in hindsight, usually.

"Likewise," he replies. What else, what else... "Ren or Akira? You. Or another name?"

The other is staring at his tattoos, he notices, eye glazed over a little. Ren slowly blinks- his tattoos follow his breathing patterns, and other Ren is having trouble slowing his breathing. An idea starts forming in his head, and he wonders...

He consciously adjusts his breathing, and the dimming and brightening of his markings follow suit. His chest visibly rises and falls with each inhale and exhale.

"Look," he says. In. Out. "My markings. Focus on them. Follow along."