"He's asleep," Renjun says to Jaemin. He's just stepped out of the bedroom where he'd laid Jeno down to rest. He waited a good few moments before he left, being extra careful as he closed the door. He stopped outside, looking at Jaemin who leaned against the wall, chin tucked down toward his chest. Renjun couldn't see the look on his face or the emotion in his eyes which he discovered he didn't like. He liked seeing Jaemin's face and being able to tell how he was feeling. "C'mon, I need to clean up."

He steps past Jaemin and into the living room where he starts on exactly that. Now, with most of the information, he can understand why Jeno seems to be in the state that he is. However, there was something still prodding at him.

"Why would he think that?" He's tossing a bunch of fast food boxes into the dirt bag. He can feel Jaemin's eyes on him, but he doesn't turn around. "Why would he think that it's his fault?"

At first he's met with silence. He assumes Jaemin isn't going to answer, so he continues his little clean up mission. It wasn't as bad as it first appeared when he showed up, and he guesses that's because it's Jeno's place and as much as he was hurting and in one of the worst states Renjun has ever seen him, he was still Jeno who needed to clean up after himself. It certainly wasn't what Chenle's place looked like when he and Jisung were in one of the biggest fights of their relationship. That was the biggest mess he's ever cleaned up.

"I'll tell you."

His head whips around. Jaemin's still standing, closer to one of the couches which means they're only a ruler's length apart. As big as the apartment building appeared, that was only the first impression one would get. The entrance itself gave off the idea that the place was large, but it was like living in a box. The kitchen and living room were connected, the only thing really separating them was the door to the bedroom. Most of the space in the living room was taken up by the two couches (a two seater and a one seater) and the table with the television on it. Renjun was sitting in the spot where a coffee table once sat for barely a month before Jeno took it to storage, claiming there wasn't enough space for them to relax when they occasionally visited.

With so little space between them, Renjun wonders what it would be like if he could touch Jaemin and actually be able to feel him. That, if he were alive, would this be the moment where they leaned in and closed the gap between their lips. He shakes the thought away and casts his gaze toward Jaemin who has yet to look away.

"You... What?"

Jutting his chin in the direction of the couch, Renjun shifts over and pulls himself up onto it. Folding his hands together tightly, he glances over at Jaemin who takes the seat opposite him. There's a crease along his forehead as he stares intensely at the ground. It's the first time he's looked away. Not sure what to expect, it startles him when Jaemin starts off right away. He expected slight resistance or hesitancy, but there was none of that.

"We were walking," Jaemin starts, words tumbling out in a mumble. Something he must realize himself, Renjun thinks when Jaemin shifts himself to sit up a little straighter and clears his throat before continuing. There's a shiver in his voice. "Crossing the track. The boom gates weren't working so we checked before crossing. But the train..." The more he speaks, the more frantic his voice becomes. Just like the rest of him, his voice shakes and it becomes clear he's losing the battle to hold himself together. It's now, more than ever, that Renjun hates not being able to hold him. Not being able to reach out and pull him to his chest and just hold him. The way he'd been able to do with Jeno moments ago. He can't even reach a damn hand out to reassure him.

He still does. Surprise crosses his expression and then, Jaemin seems to get a hold of himself for a moment. Long enough to finish his retelling, but it doesn't wash away the pure anguish on his face or in his voice.

"The train... The train came so fast. Out of nowhere. Jeno was on the track, and I was right behind him. I didn't want him to get hurt, so I pushed him out of the way." He tucks his chin toward his chest, bowing his head and pressing together his hands that are noticeably shaking. Renjun wants to hold him so badly. "It wasn't his fault that I died," Jaemin whispers.

Wet.

Renjun's eyes are wet. He doesn't notice until he's speaking. He's tearing up and has to blink a few times to make the tears go away. "I know," he says and he can hear the strain in his voice; can feel the lump he hadn't noticed before. Trying to swallow past it was deemed useless.

"Please tell him, okay?" Jaemin's eyes are full of urgency when he looks up again. A sad urgency. "Tell him that it wasn't his fault. That I don't blame him. Please, I just—"

Whatever he was about to say falls short. Renjun wants to say 'of course' because he means it. Of course he'll tell Jeno this because despite not being there, he knows it wasn't Jeno's fault. Except, he doesn't say anything because Jaemin is looking at him apologetically. He knows the look.

"I just—I need to step out for a bit," Jaemin explains, turning around without waiting to hear Renjun's response; without waiting to hear whether there would be a response in the first place.

He pauses in his step. "I'll be back," he says assuredly, disappearing out the door. All Renjun can do is watch him go, mind still processing the information he was just given, and hope that he will be back before Renjun can worry too much.

Impossible. He's still worried, even now.