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Chapter Text

It was only after Reigen had returned to the safety of his office that he realized he had truly and absolutely backed himself into a corner. The results of his own failures, lies and deceits. But he knew he had to focus on preparing his script for the upcoming conference. He would have to save his sulking and moping for later.

He had been staring at the empty document on his laptop for far too long, and a quick glance at the clock confirmed several hours had passed.

It had him pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh as he reached for his cold coffee. Grimacing at the taste while he peered back at his laptop’s dark screen. He had made no progress at all.

Though his reflection in the dark screen had him stilling. He looked terrible, Reigen thought, studying the unhealthy pallor of his skin and the dark shadows beneath his eyes. He couldn’t help the huff of laughter that escaped his lips unbidden, because this was his fault. What could he do or say at this point to get himself out of the hole he had dug himself into?

Was it being outed as a fraud or the incident with Mob causing him the most grief, he mused darkly.

This was Reigen’s comeuppance and just desserts for all that he had done. For using, manipulating and relying on Mob—a child—so much.

Shame washed over him at that reminder, because it really had taken being humiliated on live television for him to truly reflect on his treatment of Mob, didn’t it?

A glance at his phone showed it was devoid of texts and calls since Reigen had chased Mob off. Ge didn’t know what he expected. There was a sad and pathetic part of Reigen, one he had gone his whole life ignoring and pushing away, that wished for a shoulder to cry on.

So used to going through life on his own and he wished he could take his cruel words to Mob back. He hoped Mob would come back. How pathetic was he to hope for a text from his ex-disciple, he reminded himself. Anything to inform him that Mob was on his way to the office after he finished with club activities.

At the reminder of Mob’s club activities, Reigen glanced at the clock again, musing that Mob would actually have been out of school and finishing up with his body improvement club at that moment.

Had Mob been thinking about him, Reigen wondered, only to flush moments later at the embarrassment that coursed through him.

What right did he have to hope and want Mob to think about him?

It was strange for him to even have considered it.

But he wanted Mob to text or call him, and he knew it was because he wanted Mob to… to what?

Help him or save Reigen from the grave he had dug himself?

That feeling of self-loathing that had been festering in his heart since he spoke those poisonous words to Mob amplified. He felt sick with the urge to vomit, because had he changed at all since Mob left?

Even after everything, he still had the gall to expect and want Mob to rescue him from the mess that Reigen had created. It was better this way, wasn’t it? Mob understood and realized who Reigen was.

This was better for Mob and his future. Reigen would have ruined Mob with his presence. He was everything that was wrong in Mob’s life. He idly pondered that Ritsu must have been elated to know Mob had left Reigen behind.

Mob would have been fine without Reigen, if anything, he would flourish and succeed in life. But Reigen understood that without Mob, he was nothing and the realization made him laugh; he had truly convinced himself he could run a successful business on his own. It was inappropriate and peculiar for him to rely on Mob to this extent.

He contemplated what Mob’s parents must have thought, they must feel relieved to no longer have their son off gallivanting across the city with Reigen at odd hours.

It was fitting really, that he understood then that he had relied on Mob too much and had taken advantage of his kindness. Reigen glowered at his reflection in the dark screen, listening to the sounds of the clock ticking and the traffic outside. Letting out a sigh, he pushed his chair back from his desk, gazing blankly out the window.

Had the world always looked so grey and bleak, he mused. He had to fix this and apologize to Mob.

After all, that was what all of this was about, wasn’t it?

Reigen knew the press conference wasn’t for him, it was for Mob. The opportunity to use it as a chance to prove he wasn’t a fraud had passed. This would be his chance to do what he should have done all along, apologize to Mob.

If nothing else, even if Mob didn’t accept his apology and wanted nothing to do with him, Reigen wanted to try. It was what Mob deserved after everything.

Distantly, he wondered if Mob had seen his humiliation live on television. Was he relieved to have severed ties with him and was he ashamed to have worked with Reigen—to have known him and called him his shishou?

Mob would and should have been disgusted with him, Reigen decided, glancing at Mob’s empty desk. Mob had to know what Reigen was now after he had been exposed as a fraud and con artist.

Would Mob even accept his apology or want to see him again? He wouldn’t have blamed Mob if he were to tell him to leave. It was what Reigen deserved.

Even so, Mob deserved an apology from him more than anyone. Reigen needed to ask for forgiveness and apologize for using him. It was with that thought that he rolled his sleeves up and refocused on his laptop, fingers skimming the keys while he chewed on his lip in thought. He wasn’t sure where to start.

Ad-libbing and improvising in the moment was always his greatest strength.

There really was no way for him to write or explain what Mob meant to him. Sighing in exasperation, he dropped his face into his hands, elbows on his knees, slouched over as he thought back to the script his mother had emailed him earlier today.

He wished he could have taken it all back. His parents were right, he mused, staring at the scuffed floor. He should have gotten a proper job, but Reigen had learned the lesson his mother had wanted him to learn. It was unfortunate that it had taken being humbled on live television and losing Mob for him to realize it.

But he would say his piece, grovel and beg Mob for forgiveness, hoping that his words would reach him.

Then what?

Would Reigen continue with his failing business?

Maybe he should have listened to his parents and attended that family meeting and gotten a proper job in the first place like his sister, Reigen reflected morosely. The thought settled in his mind. What would his parents have thought if they had known about Mob and how Reigen had used him?

He dragged his hand over his mouth with a quiet chuckle; would they have been as disgusted with Reigen as he was with himself?

They would have been disgusted with him, and for a good reason, he decided. He wouldn’t have blamed them for it.

His back popped when he leaned back in his chair and stretched. Letting out a sigh and reaching for his coffee. But he froze when his phone lit up from the corner of his eye, reaching for it before he could think with his heart in his throat. His stomach dropped at the realization it wasn’t a text from Mob.

When would Reigen learn?

It was with tired eyes he gazed down at his phone, an exasperated sigh escaping him, lips pressed into a thin line. It was another text from one of the victims he had supposedly conned. He scrolled through the rest of his messages, pausing briefly on the last text Mob had sent him.

He couldn’t bring himself to delete it, eyes drifting over other messages until they landed on the first anonymous text he had received the day of his televised humbling.

The one that had started it all.

[“You’ll get what’s coming to you.”]

Reigen truly hoped he would. He deserved whatever divine punishment that came his way. Because it was his callousness and manipulation that had caused all this, wasn’t it? But was Mob leaving not enough of a punishment?

What could have been worse at this point? Reigen was nothing now.

Publicly humiliated, friendless and likely jobless if things continued on this trajectory.

He would have to change his number to prevent any further calls or texts like this, Reigen decided. Even if it would do little and people could find his number again easily through his business. He knew he should delete all these messages, but he reread the text again, his finger hovering over the delete button.

Was this a genuine threat?

It should be fine, he reasoned, likely one of the many clients he had conned in the past who was angered after finding out that Reigen was a fraud.

Yet it was just as he was about to delete the text that he heard the office door creak open, making his head snapped up to find a pale man—tall, muscular, with a sharp nose, thin brows and dark hair—wearing a white shirt, blue jeans and black dress shoes, standing at the entrance.

“Welcome to Spirits and Such. I apologize, but unfortunately, we’re closed this week,” Reigen starts, standing to his feet and walking around to the front of his desk.

Had he forgotten to lock the door or put up the closed sign, Reigen pondered, slanting a look towards the office door.

Though it was only when he realized he hadn’t received a response that Reigen glanced back at the man in question, who was close. Much too close. Forcing Reigen to take a step back, craning his head up to look at the man who was invading his space in more ways than one.

All he could smell was the earthy scent of vetiver, leather and cinnamon—smoky, spicy and sweet.

“Sir, I really do apologize. But the office is closed until further notice and will—,” he continued, only for the man to cut him off abruptly.

“Still up to the same shit, huh? You really don’t have any shame, do you?" the man snapped, making Reigen’s mouth click shut at his sharp words. "I would have thought that embarrassing yourself on national television would have taught you a lesson.”

“I-I’m sorry, do I know you?” was all Reigen could stutter, gaping up and into the man’s heavy stare. His desk dug into his back when he attempted to lean away from the man, who continued to crowd into his space. Making a laugh of discomfort escape Reigen, gaze flickering from the man and the decreasing space between them. “Ah… Uhm… Getting a little close there?”

The man let out a huff of laughter, peering down at him through dark hair that stopped a bit above his shoulder. It felt like Reigen was under a microscope. There was something in the back of his mind, wailing and blaring red.

Something was wrong, Reigen thought, studying the man who continued to box him in.

He was vaguely familiar, and it brought little comfort to Reigen to know this man was someone he had met before. Reigen had to have done something to this man for him to be so aggrieved.

A client that he had conned in the past, perhaps?

“Honestly… I can’t say I’m surprised you don’t remember me with how many people you’ve scammed. There wouldn’t be any benefit in you remembering them, right?” the man murmured, stare unrelenting and never leaving his face.

Watching in amusement when Reigen glanced down to the man’s hands, recognition flitting through his mind as he caught sight of the snake tattoo on the man’s left arm peaking out of from beneath the man’s sleeve.

“Ah, Yamato-san! I almost didn’t recognize you for a second with the new look—,” Reigen started to ramble, hands fluttering around while he continued to lean further back from the man.

Warily, Reigen looked toward the door blocked by Yamato’s looming figure before his eyes skittered to where his phone lay on the edge of his desk.

“Cut the crap, you fraud!” Yamato sneered, slamming a fist down on the desk pressed against Reigen’s back.

It made him flinch as the desk shuddered from the strike, gaze snapping from the door and back to Yamato with anxiety beginning to settle in his gut.

“Do you feel good about yourself for using people like that? Did you find it funny pretending to be my dead mother?” Yamato snarled, as Reigen shook his head at a loss for words. “You probably laughed your way to the bank, didn’t you? Knowing you scammed some poor sucker out of money.”

“I can assure you that what the media is saying is false—,” he tried to say before being cut off abruptly.

He was no longer looking up at Yamato.

No, the sight that greeted him was the wall Reigen desperately tried to refocus on, blinking the spots from his eyes.

His face stung and burned. It was with a shaking hand that he cradled his cheek and stared up at Yamato in shock. He hit me, Reigen realized dazedly, terror clutching at his throat and eyes darting towards the door again.

Too far, he reflected, glancing at his phone just out of arm’s reach.

It felt like he had ash in his lungs, trying to swallow past the lump in his throat as he stared up at the man looming over him and blocking out the light, casting a shadow over Reigen. It was only then that things clicked into place, and Reigen finally understood the trouble he was in.

“Yamato-san… please, we can talk this out. There’s no need to resort to violence. I can give you a refund.”

Desperation must have shown on his face with how Reigen tried to placate Yamato, hands held out in front of him to soothe the threat. But his attempt was thwarted by the hand grabbing him by the collar of his button-up.

“This isn’t about the money. It’s about teaching you a lesson,” Yamato spat, shaking him and making Reigen flinch.

Reigen attempted to regain his balance but failed when Yamato dragged him closer. Making him scramble to clutch at Yamato’s hands, whose grip only tightened at the fruitless attempt to break the iron grip on Reigen’s button-up.

“Let go!”

“You give me my money back and then what? You go back to conning people and doing the same bullshit over again… people like you don’t learn. You make me sick! You used my grief for your profit,” Yamato growled, shaking him roughly. It felt like the air had left Reigen’s lungs at Yamato’s words and the truth within them. This was karma for scamming people and profiting off them, wasn’t it? “To think I fell for you pretending to be her.”

His words were trapped in his throat, tongue frozen, and Reigen was back on that stage again in front of cameras, full of terror and dread. He couldn’t speak, words slipping from him as he stared blankly at Yamato.

“What? Cat got your tongue? Didn’t seem like you had a problem using that mouth of yours when you were conning me out of my money.”

He pushed against Yamato’s chest, a desperate attempt to create space and free himself. Reigen realized in a distant part of his mind, when Yamato barely budged, that he was too large to take on and his self-defence moves would do nothing but further agitate Yamato.

The alarm in the back of Reigen’s mind that had been blaring all this time hadn’t stopped, and he knew he had to diffuse this situation before it truly escaped his control. It was just as he opened his mouth to plead his case again that he felt Yamato release his shirt before both of Reigen’s wrists were captured in an unbreakable grasp.

Oh, Reigen mused, eyeing the large hands encircling his wrists.

This couldn’t be happening to him. He was losing control of the situation, and it was only now that Reigen realized he couldn’t remember the last time a client had laid their hands on him.

Distantly, in the back of his mind, he knew the reason. It was all because of Mob, his sweet and kind disciple, who always intervened when Reigen was being threatened. Stepping between anything or anyone, Mob deemed a threat to Reigen.

Reigen had failed to treasure the protection Mob had offered him so selflessly—too caught up in his own schemes or cons to appreciate everything Mob did for him.

He really had taken advantage of Mob’s kindness, hadn’t he?

Sharp pain throbbed through his wrists, pulling Reigen from his thoughts with a quiet hiss. Yamato was going to bruise him, leaving marks that would match the dark shadows under Reigen’s eyes and the one that would surely bloom on his cheek in time.

“Do you think this is a fucking joke?” Yamato yelled, grip only tightening further to Reigen’s growing dismay. “Think you’re too good to talk to me?”

It felt like his wrists were going to shatter and break like glass. He regretted not working out more or taking actual self-defence lessons—he regretted a lot of things at that moment.

“I-I’m sorry! It wasn’t my intention to hurt you or any of my clients. But doing this—using violence—isn’t the answer,” he stuttered, attempting to tug his wrists free.

Gritting his teeth when Yamato simply tightened his hold until tears stung Reigen’s eyes, teeth digging into his lips to muffle his cry of pain.

At Yamato’s silence, he glanced up to find the man studying him with amusement dancing in his eyes as he watched Reigen struggle. He wondered what face he must have been making for Yamato to look on with such delight.

Did Yamato see the same thing Reigen did in the mirror, a weak and snivelling man?

“I don’t need your fake apologies, you fraud. I knew the minute I saw you on that trashy show that I needed to be the one to punish you,” Yamato growled, grip tightening momentarily as Reigen felt himself beginning to lose his balance when he was pushed back against the desk behind him. “Just shut the fuck up and put that mouth to use.”

Yamato grunted in pain when Reigen brought kneed him in the stomach, tugging his wrists free and darting towards the door when he’s released. Terror and desperation coursed through his veins when he reached it, knowing that freedom was within his grasp.

All he had to do was escape and go home. Then Reigen could pretend this nightmare had never happened.

His hand skimmed the doorknob just as an arm wrapped itself around his neck. Making Reigen scramble for balance, clawing at the arm that dragged him back against Yamato’s hard chest.

“You little bitch! What the fuck do you think this is?!” Yamato bellowed in his ear, arm tightening until Reigen could only gasp for air.

He was going to die there, Reigen thought deliriously, spots dancing in his vision.

But just as suddenly, the world tilted, his back and head slamming against his desk.

The sound of his possessions clattering to the ground echoed through the office. Reigen couldn’t understand what was happening. His head pounded and vision blurred, struggling to see straight as everything spun and he blinked at the ceiling sluggishly.

Only for Yamato to block it out with a smirk on his face.

Reigen was terrified. Never had he been in a situation that he had lost control of so fast. He brought his shaking hands up to block his face. A sad attempt to ward off any more strikes.

Unbidden, he flinched when Yamato reached for him, sunlight flashing off a silver ring on his finger, and in desperation, Reigen kicked his leg out.

Satisfaction burned through him at the pained grunt that left Yamato in response. He tensed for a strike that never came, and it was only when hands began to pull at his clothing that Reigen’s mouth deemed itself to move again.

“W-what are you doing?” he yelped, mind and body finally catching up to his predicament. “No! Don’t—stop!”

“Stay still, you whore!"

He didn’t understand how things had devolved to this. How he could have read the situation so wrong, Reigen wondered in dismay, grabbing at Yamato’s hands that pulled and tore at his clothes.

“Let go! Please—!”

It was desperation and fear that had him fighting back with all that he had. Clawing, kicking, hitting, and striking out at whatever parts of Yamato he could.

A sob spilled from his bruised lips when his mauve pink tie was torn off, a beloved gift he had received from Mob for his past birthday. Reigen couldn’t lose it, not when it was the last gift he had from Mob.

“Fucking—stay still!”

“No! Stop! Give it back!”

It wasn’t Reigen’s hands that were pushing and clawing at Yamato when he pressed down against him. Someone else was begging and weeping—it was someone else whose wrists were being tied together by a cherished gift—and wouldn’t someone save him?

The buttons from his shirt clattering against the ground did nothing to block out the sound of Reigen’s rapid heartbeat. He could only hear his heart pumping and blood pounding in his ears, but he couldn’t hear what Yamato was saying. He could see Yamato’s mouth moving; it was like his hearing had left with his strength.

Reigen was drowning in his own despair, regret, and fear.

Caught in the rapids and unable to get to safety, he was being dragged down further into the abyss as he gasped for air. Reigen stared into the dark eyes above him, knowing and understanding that Yamato would haunt him for the rest of his days.

This moment in time would be burned into his mind and body eternally.

Yamato would make sure of that.

He didn’t want to be here, Reigen thought, trying to strike Yamato and keep him from tearing his clothes off from him further.

Reigen felt his lips moving, but he couldn’t hear, nor understand, what pleas and cries were escaping him. Yet he knew he must have been begging for mercy and forgiveness—to be pardoned for his crimes as he clawed at Yamato, who held him down.

Tears blurred his vision, a sob of pain slipping from his lips, when a rough hand grabbed his hair and used it to slam his head against the desk.

Once, and then twice.

Until Reigen’s vision went black, and consciousness took him before the third strike.

It could have been hours or minutes before he awoke again in confusion, eyes fluttering open while he struggled to stay awake and not allow unconsciousness to take him once more. 

Reigen couldn’t explain what else was happening as he blinked spots from his eyes. It felt like he was floating while his eyes slid to the window the moonlight shone through.

Where had the time gone, Reigen mulled, face wet with tears and body throbbing in pain to the beat of his heart.

Was he dying?

His body felt like one giant bruise and the pain only increased as awareness slowly came back to him. It didn’t feel like he was truly alive and real, did it?

It was as if Reigen was in a bad dream.

One he would awake from soon enough.

Though his only warning was the grunt above him when his body jerked from a harsh thrust from Yamato. A cry escaped his swollen and bruised lips when everything finally came back to him.

“No!”

His body ached with each rut from Yamato, who chuckled and glanced down when Reigen’s crying had begun anew.

“Rise and shine, princess. Have a good nap?”

Reigen couldn’t look at the man above him. If he closed his eyes, then he could pretend he was somewhere else.

Anywhere but here, far away from the pain, fear and revulsion.

(He could pretend he was getting ramen with Mob after another late night working a job and he would tell Mob—who smelt of lilac, lavender and sandalwood. All the things Reigen adored—that he could get extra chashu as a treat with warmth in his heart while he clung onto this moment of peace.

Mob would thank him with a soft smile. “Thank you, Shishou—”)

The memory shattered, and he was dragged out of the Eden he had created for himself when Yamato’s arm, a snake tattoo, he thought detachedly, caught his eye when he reached for Reigen.

Yamato’s hand latched onto his throat just as a piercing keen tore past Reigen’s lips when teeth bit into his chest.

He clenched his eyes shut, head lolling to the side while the world spun around him. Reigen was dazed when he finally opened his eyes again, to find himself looking at Mob’s desk.

A desk that had been empty since he had chased Mob away.

Mob, help me, Reigen pleaded internally, flinching away from the lips brushing against his jaw.

If he hadn’t chased Mob away, would Reigen have ended up in this situation?

Splayed out like a butterfly pinned to a board with its wings plucked, body jerking with pain resonating through him with every thrust from the monster above him.

Save me, Mob.

He felt sick, heaving and finally grasping that it wasn’t just from the present state he had found himself in. No, it was because he wanted Mob to save him.

Reigen deserved this, didn’t he? He hadn’t changed at all and was rotten down to his core.

How much lower could he go? Expecting Mob, a child, to save him from the mess Reigen had created. It was wrong of him to think of Mob as his saviour, hero and protector.

Not when Reigen was the adult and his shishou, the one who was supposed to be protecting Mob. He was torn from his thoughts again at the familiar drag of teeth tearing into his neck, pulling another broken cry from Reigen when skin broke.

“Pay attention, babe. Or I’m gonna start thinking that you’re thinking about other men while you’re with me, hm?” Yamato demanded, thrusts speeding up and hands searing bruises into Reigen’s hips, waist and thighs.

Everywhere.

It felt like Reigen’s body wasn’t his own anymore.

He heaved and reached for the wound on his neck with his restrained hands, only to be stopped by Yamato. Who grabbed his wrists with one hand, pressing them above Reigen’s head.

Yamato laughed softly, beginning to nip at his jaw, forcing Reigen to turn his head away in desperation.

Only to find himself looking at Mob’s desk once more.

That was when he finally took notice of Mob’s yellow raincoat, folded on the desk, the one that Mob had forgotten the last time he had come to the office.

He needed to return Mob’s raincoat, Reigen thought, tears blurring his vision as Yamato pressed his thighs further against his chest.

His eyes clenched shut at the feel of Yamato’s breath against his neck and the sounds of his grunts.

Reigen refused to look at the desk Mob sat at while this was happening. As if he would taint Mob further if he were to gaze upon it. He didn’t deserve Mob, Reigen reflected, whimpering when fingers dug into his hips and thighs.

More marks added to the constellation of bruises on his battered body. The part of him that was still aware and not cowering in the back of Reigen’s mind begging for salvation, suddenly comprehended that Yamato hadn’t cared to use any protection.

For whatever reason, it was that realization, something Reigen had expected of Yamato, that had his weeping beginning anew. He knew that his mouth was moving, but he couldn’t fathom what words and pleas were slipping past his bruised lips. But it must have been amusing to Yamato when the man let out a chortle, breath hot against his throat.

“Mob? Babe, you’re hurting my feelings by calling out another man’s name. I don’t think he’ll want you after this though,” Yamato crooned, hands tightening on slim hips as Reigen let out a cry, shaking his head in denial. “Hah, I think that it’s a little too late for your hero to rescue you. But keep calling for him. I can’t say that I dislike it.”

A wet keen left Reigen as he gasped, bile threatening to rise in response to Yamato’s words. For all that Reigen had done and all the people he had conned or manipulated, this couldn’t be considered justice, could it?

Rough hands tightening on his hips pulled a pained whine from Reigen when Yamato pounded into him erratically before his thrusts stuttered. He couldn’t stop the wail that escaped him when warmth filled him, sobbing under Yamato, who collapsed on top of him with a satisfied groan.

It felt like ages had passed to the sounds of his quiet whimpers and sobs filling the air before Yamato leaned back with a quiet huff. The pain was piercing, tearing through Reigen when Yamato pulled out, dragging a broken cry from his throat.

Distantly, while his body shuddered in pain, he could hear Yamato laughing at his suffering.

He whimpered softly, curling up on his desk in an attempt to stop the hurts coursing through him and make himself a smaller target for Yamato. Reigen felt disgusting. His ripped button-up stuck to his sweat-soaked body while other fluids coated his skin and dripped from between his thighs.

Biting his lips to stop his pained gasps from escaping, Reigen listened to Yamato grunt while he redressed. His tired and bleary eyes refocused on Mob’s desk, unable to see through ever-present tears while he eyed the blotchy yellow that he knew was Mob’s raincoat.

His view of Mob’s desk was abruptly blocked off by Yamato’s arm when he slammed a hand down in front of Reigen’s face. Yamato leered down at him, blocking out the light and casting a shadow over his shattered form.

“This is karma, y’know? For all the bullshit you’ve done—the people you’ve used," Yamato murmured, peering down at him with wide eyes, gaze drifting from Reigen's face to his naked body. "Do you know why this is happening?”

Reigen shuddered in response, twitching when Yamato set a hand on his bare waist, rubbing circles into the hand-shaped bruises marring his waist with his thumb. It had Reigen clenching his eyes shut and biting his lip to stop himself from pleading with Yamato to please stop touching him.

Would answering Yamato help at all, or would it only lead to further punishment? Maybe it was better for Reigen to remain silent? He didn’t get to think much further before a hand roughly grabbed his jaw and turned his face towards Yamato.

“Open your fucking eyes and look at me when I’m talking to you,” Yamato ordered, breath warm against Reigen's face, his eyes snapping open at the feel of Yamato's grip tightening.

He stared up at Yamato in fear, silver tongue failing Reigen once again; usually he would always have a comeback. He talked circles around people and money out of their wallets without a second thought. Maybe it was a good thing it was failing him now, Reigen deliberated.

After all, it was his silver tongue that had gotten him into this situation in the first place, wasn’t it?

“I asked you a question,” Yamato snapped, digging his nails into Reigen's flesh.

Another hurt to add on to all the injuries he had suffered through already. But did it matter when Reigen’s body was just one aching bruise? He found it didn’t matter what happened to this wretched and disgusting body of his anymore.

Even so, he opened his mouth at the impatience flitting over Yamato’s face.

“I-I'm a fraud. I trick p-people and con them out of money,” Reigen croaked, throat raw and wrecked.

“Hm, yes and no. You’re definitely a fraud, and if I wasn’t sure before… I’m sure now. If you were the real thing, you would have used your powers to stop me," Yamato mused out loud.

His lips curled into a smirk when Reigen flinched when he released his jaw to cup his cheek. Cradling his face with the gentleness of a lover that had Reigen biting the inside of his cheek until he could taste iron.

“Powers you didn’t use, because either you’re a fraud… or perhaps you wanted this to happen, hm? You seem like you’re the kinky type with a body and face like that,” Yamato’s smile widened, face lighting up in joy and lust. “But I’m thinking that it’s a bit of both, babe—but you want to know the real reason this is happening?”

In a distant part of his mind, Reigen knew he was going into shock. His body was ice-cold, quaking in dread while Yamato continued to play with him.

“It’s because you’re a bad person,” Yamato crooned, releasing Reigen’s face and stepping away. His eyes wrinkled at the corners as he took in the expression on Reigen’s face. “This is all your fault, and you can only blame yourself for this. If you hadn’t taken advantage of people, you wouldn’t be here, and I wouldn’t have to punish you like this.”

Yamato glanced at him, his heavy gaze flickering from Reigen’s face and to his body, before he made his way to the door and stepping over everything laying on the floor.

“Try to learn from this, be a better person—a good person—and we won’t have to do this again,” Yamato stated, opening the door before looking back at Reigen.

His dark eyes languidly dragged over Reigen’s naked body, savouring the constellation of bruises and marks decorating his skin. Reigen pleaded to whatever deities there were that Yamato left—that he stopped staring at him with such hunger and want.

The fear that Yamato would decide to stay back for another round only caused more terror and panic to trickle down his spine.

“You should consider leaving this psychic business behind, make an honest living him. Babe, with a body and face like that, I’m sure you can open a respectable massage parlour.”

With a snicker, Yamato took one last look at him, gaze gliding over his body once more, before he turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him.

Chapter Text

He laid on his desk listening to the ticking of the clock, and his whimpers filling the small office. Unsure of how much time had passed as he laid curled up on his desk, dull eyes staring at Mob’s yellow raincoat.

The office door was unlocked, Reigen reminded himself, knowing that he should get up to lock it. He couldn’t risk anyone walking in, despite the time of night.

Fear coursed through him at the thought of Yamato returning, and he stumbled off the desk and to his feet to reach the door. But his legs buckled beneath him, a whimper falling from his lips when his knees hit the cold floor.

Reigen curled up when a sharp pain seared up from his lower body. It was a pain he had never felt before, and it was just then that he felt something wet slide down his inner thighs. He could barely grab the garbage can beside his desk in time as he heaved. His mind connected the dots as to what the wetness was, the evidence and reality of what had occurred. His body shuddered with each heave and gasp.

Distantly, Reigen knew he was losing time while he was curled up on the floor with the acidic scent of vomit, vetiver, leather and cinnamon filling the air.

He had to get up, Reigen told himself detachedly, bringing his shaking hands up to his mouth to free his wrists. With his teeth, he could unknot the tie from his wrists, rubbing at the raw skin left behind with shuddering hands.

Guilt settled in his stomach when he gazed down at the now ruined tie. It had been Mob’s gift to him, and Reigen wanted to keep it—to continue to cherish it and hold on to the last gift he had received from Mob.

Yet he wanted to throw it out, disgust slowly overwhelming his desire to keep Mob’s gift close. Instead, he discarded it to the side with trembling hands and attempted to get up once again, the sound of chatter floating through the open window from the streets reigniting his fear.

Reigen was hands barely came up in time to soften his fall this time, a cry of pain tearing out from his heaving chest while he struggled to not collapse. Pain throbbed through his shattered form. The cool floor did little to soothe his aches, but it provided a small reprieve from the throbbing echoing from his bruised cheek.

Everything hurt, and he didn’t want to move. It was only when he heard voices and laughter from the street outside again that he stumbled to his feet. Terror once again cutting through him at the reminder that Yamato had threatened to return.

He used his desk as a crutch to drag himself up, legs threatening to give out at any moment as wetness steadily dripped down his inner thighs. It felt as if his body was on autopilot when Reigen sluggishly limped over to the door, barely being able to stop his fall again and using Mob’s desk to keep himself from collapsing into a heap.

It felt like hours had passed by the time Reigen reached the door, all but falling against it, when he heard the lock click shut. If he collapsed against this cheap wooden door, he wouldn’t be able to get up again.

No, he would fall apart, Reigen mused, leaning his weight on the door and turning to take in the state of his office with dull eyes. It was in a disarray, much worse than expected and he connected the state of the room to the play-by-play in his mind.

Of being dragged back from the door by Yamato, the couch pushed to the side and television knocked over in the ensuing struggle.

Mob’s chair and desk were pushed against the wall by Yamato in his rush to drag Reigen back from the door. Reigen’s gaze fell on the clutter on the floor. His laptop screen was cracked and lay in the coffee, staining the ground along with the shattered glass from his mug and his other possessions.

It was then he noted the new pain coming from his feet that had him dazedly eyeing the bloody footprints amongst the drops of white and red that had left a trail to the door.

The result of stepping on glass from his broken mug in his desperate attempt to reach the door. His feet ached and throbbed, but the pain was dull compared to the other hurts on his body.

He was moving before he realized it; the pain shoved to the back of his mind. Reigen was a passenger in his own body, watching it stumble to his pants and shoes. It was just as he tugged on his pants, zipper broken and buttons torn, and he was reaching for his shoes that a thought passed his mind.

The glass.

Reigen needed to remove the glass if he had any hope of getting home.

With that thought in mind, Reigen staggered to the closet chair to him. Mob’s chair, he idly thought, leaning a hand on Mob’s desk. He found himself wishing that Mob was here. Reigen would even take Dimple, that green menace. If he hadn’t been alone—if he was a kind, honest, and good person—then would this have happened?

Perhaps it would have—

His thoughts scattered as agony resonated through his body when he sat down on Mob’s chair. He felt like his lower half was on fire, as if someone had stabbed him. Reigen heaved, shuddering with his head between his legs while he swallowed down bile.

There was wetness on his cheeks and vaguely Reigen heard whimpering, but it was only when he reached up to touch his damp cheeks that he realized there were tears on his face. It was him, Reigen grasped distantly.

He was the one weeping and filling the office with the sounds of his whimpers once more.

Reigen clutched at his cheek, nails digging into the soft skin, while his other hand attempted to muffle his cries. He needed to get it together, Reigen told himself, gasping and resisting the urge to dig his nails into his skin until he bled.

With a quiet sniffle, he straightened his back, bringing his foot up to lay it on his thigh. Through blurry eyes, he saw the mess he had made of his feet. It almost made him gag again, the sight of the blood and gore that met his gaze.

Someone else’s hands were shakily pulling and tugging at the shards in his feet, blood sluggishly flowing. It was to the sounds of the clock ticking by and the laughter floating up from the street that Reigen methodically removed the glass from both his feet. A distant part of him noted he should attempt to bandage the wounds to slow or halt the bleeding.

But he didn’t care, Reigen decided. It didn’t matter what he did anymore. This body was damaged beyond repair. It was ruined and broken, an ugly thing he could barely stand to look at. Gritting his teeth, he slid his shoes back on, before standing to his feet once more.

Pain spiked through his lower-half and his feet throbbed with the beat of his heart. Mob’s desk supported his waning body; a bloody handprint stained the desk while he staggered against it.

Reigen could feel every sharp ache searing through his body with every shift, but it had become a distant hurt now. He was moving, stumbling over the clutter, and grabbing his blazer with hands that refused to stop shaking.

In a distant part of his mind, hidden in the depths where reality couldn’t reach Reigen, he knew he wasn’t fooling anyone while he struggled to button up his blazer.

The evidence of this trauma—Reigen’s punishment and atonement—were glaringly obvious. He needed to get home, far away from here to somewhere that was safe.

But nowhere was safe… Reigen would never feel safe again, would he?

He wanted to be far away from this memory, to go home and find a reprieve in the comfort of his bed. But his mind stuttered at the thought. Because he needed to call the police, didn’t he?

That was what was usually done, wasn’t it?

But shame burned through him, because he was a grown man. This wasn’t something that could have happened to him. But it did. Reigen heaved at reality hitting him.

It happened to him. He had been torn apart and left to bleed in the emptiness of his office.

No one would ever believe him; Reigen knew what the public thought of him. Fraud, liar, fake and con artist. He would be asked why hadn’t he used his so-called powers, wouldn’t he?

Why had Reigen not fought back, after all, wasn’t he a psychic?

This didn’t happen to people like him. But it didn’t matter, Reigen decided. He would go home and pretend this never happened. Where he would force himself to forget, purge and destroy this memory. Like a rotten meal, thrown away in the trash to be forgotten.

If he were to go to the police, then it would be to admit Reigen was indeed a fraud, but more than that, it would mean acknowledging what transpired.

No, he couldn’t admit or acknowledge that, because that meant Reigen had been—

The shuddering of his legs that threatened to buckle pulled Reigen from his spiralling thoughts; he knew that any attempt to walk home was becoming an impossible dream the longer he stayed here.

As if he could stay a second longer in the office, surrounded by the evidence of his suffering and the threat of Yamato returning.

Dazedly, his eyes lock onto his phone, lying innocently amongst the glass on the floor near the couches. It lit up and Reigen wasn’t sure when he moved, nor did he remember stumbling over or hearing the crunch of glass under his shoes before he grasped his phone with trembling hands.

Mob, Mob, Mob—

His ribs ached at the shuddering laugh that slipped past his lips, chest tight, when he opened the text. A familiar number stared back at him, making his breath freeze in his throat as he processed the message.

[“You’ll get what’s coming to you.”]

The text that started this nightmare that Reigen found himself trapped in and the most recent text from the number sucked the air out of his lungs.

This couldn’t be happening to him. It just couldn’t.

Reigen knew he was hyperventilating. No, this was the beginning of a panic attack, wasn’t it? His vision was darkening at the edges while he struggled to suck in air, clutching at his chest as his knees hit the floor.

A panic attack, like one of the many he had helped Mob through.

He couldn’t breathe. The cold from the floor seeped through the fabric of his pants while he curled in on himself. He was dying, and it was like Reigen was back on his desk all over again, being torn open and gasping for air.

For pity, salvation, rescue and Mob—

(“I’m sorry, S-Shishou… Sometimes I c-can’t—when I get overwhelmed,” Mob gasped, a soft sob leaving him while he reached for Reigen’s hand.

Reigen could hear objects in the office shuddering as they began to float up.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, meeting Mob’s hand halfway while his other rubbed soothing circles on Mob’s back. “Panic attacks can happen to anyone. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Mob only offered a shuddering gasp in response, his grip on Reigen’s hand tightening while he curled further in on himself. It made Reigen’s chest constrict in concern and sadness to see Mob suffer.

“Focus on me, okay? On my voice. Can you tell me where you are right now?”

“I-I’m at the office, w-with Shishou.”

“You’re doing great. What do you see? Hear? Feel? Can you describe it to me?” Reigen asked softly. Mob’s hold on his hand tightened, and he dragged his eyes up, refocusing them on Reigen’s face.

“S-Shishou,” he rasped, making Reigen smile encouragingly in response. “Yellow—no—g-gold. L-like the sun… Shishou’s voice a-and hands.”

Reigen hummed quietly, lips pinching momentarily before he continued to rub comforting circles on Mob’s back. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed as he listened to Mob’s voice trail off until his quaking subsided.

Mob pulled back and tightened his grip on Reigen’s hands, his eyes remained down turned. Quiet sounds filled the office as the objects gently returned to their places.

“I’m sorry for troubling you with t-this,” Mob stuttered, face red and hands wrinkling the bottom of his gakuran.

“Mob,” he said, smiling gently at Mob, whose gaze slid back up to hold his stare. “It’s okay. Listen, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Panic attacks can happen to anyone. It’s the same as stubbing your foot or getting a stomach-ache. These things happen and there’s nothing embarrassing about it, it’s just a part of life… Even I, your esteemed Shishou stubs his foot or gets stomach-aches!”

A glance at Mob and Reigen couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips when he saw that familiar look of admiration.

“Really, you’re not a burden to me. Ever. So please don’t think of yourself like that,” warmth filled him when Mob’s shoulders sagged, and relief exuded from him. “You can rely on me. Don’t feel like you have to deal with this on your own, okay?”

“I-I, Shishou—you,” Mob let out a huff, stammering over his words before his back straightened, and he brought his other hand up to clasp the one still gripping Reigen’s hand. “Thank you. I… Uhm… You can rely on me too.”

“Thank you,” Reigen murmured, sliding his hand out of Mob’s hold and ruffling his hair. “Aren’t I lucky? To have such a devoted disciple!”

“Shishou,” Mob whispered, eyes soft and full of admiration.)

A blue couch.

"Shishou."

Cold and grey tiles under his hands.

“Shishou.”

The ticking of the clock.

“Shishou.”

Laughter and voices from the street.

“Shishou.”

A chill seeping into his knees through his pants.

“Shishou.”

The cold plastic of his phone in his hands.

“Reigen-shishou.”

And suddenly he was breathing again.

One, two, three.

One, two, three.

One, two, three.

Reigen heaved himself up, staggering towards the couch, hand clenched around his phone to glance back at the text message and imagine.

The picture would forever be burned into his mind and memory.

[“Thanks for the fun time, babe. Be a doll and keep this between us, otherwise you’ll be getting your own celebrity sex tape. Being a fraud won’t be the only thing you’ll be known for if this gets out.”]

He swallowed bile down, looking away from his phone. The image of his tearstained face and bruised body was seared into his mind. Reigen couldn’t remember when the picture had been taken; he wanted to rage, break his phone and weep.

Instead, he flipped his phone open again and instinctively pulled up Mob’s contact information. Yet his finger hovered over the call button.

Mob would come, wouldn’t he?

If Reigen were to call him and never tell him he needed… needed, what exactly?

Help to get home?

Rescue?

No… Mob wouldn’t come because he had cut ties with Reigen, hadn’t he? He had stopped answering Reigen’s calls shortly after their disagreement.

Why would he come and—

(“I'm starting to understand that not everything you say is true, Shishou.”)

Mob wouldn’t believe him. Not when Reigen lied like he breathed. His words were untrustworthy and full of deceit. Mob wouldn’t, and Reigen shouldn’t rely on him either.

He couldn’t place a burden and trauma like this on Mob, just a child, Reigen’s mind reminded him.

Reigen dropped his phone, letting it fall with a clatter and shame blooming within him.

What had he been about to do? What was Reigen thinking, to involve Mob, a child, middle schooler and his disciple?

The shame was suffocating him until he was drowning, and it felt as if the world would never stop spinning. He didn’t make it to the garbage can in time, sagging against the couch while he heaved.

There couldn’t be anything left to throw up at this point, Reigen pondered deliriously.

The taste of bile coated his mouth, that he wiped at it before reaching down to flip his phone shut. He couldn’t call Mob and drag him into the hell Reigen had found himself in.

So, he had to walk; he couldn’t call a taxi or anyone else. There was no one else; Reigen wanted to wail. He’d have to walk and push through the pain to get home to safety.

Then Reigen could pretend this never happened.

Reigen took a glance around the room, deliberately passing over stains of white and red. Cleaning up the mess, evidence, he reminded himself, would have to wait. His eyes paused over Mob’s chair, zeroing in on the red staining the chair.

Oh, that was concerning, Reigen thought faintly.

Someone had left a stain on Mob’s chair, but with his teeth gritted and eyes clenched, Reigen brought a shaking hand between his legs. A whimper escaped him when damp fabric met his hand.

He didn’t want to look, because what he saw would be more proof of what had happened to him. But Reigen needed to check if he wanted to get home. A glance down at his pants had him heaving and crying once more. He had to cover up and hide the state of his pants if he wanted to get home without incident.

Briefly, Reigen considered tying his blazer around his waist, but cool air touching his chest reminded him of the state of his ruined button-down.

The blazer was the only thing covering his bruised, marked, and bitten chest. Reigen leaned against the couch, exhaustion pulling at his bones just as his bleary eyes landed on yellow fabric.

It was Mob’s raincoat.

No, Reigen couldn’t.

The thought of touching it disgusted him, because Reigen would stain Mob and infect him with his sickness and weakness.

But as he stood here, legs quaking, wetness creeping down his thighs, pants sticking to him and bile crawling up his throat, Reigen knew he had no other choice.

Otherwise, he would be seen and photographed. It would be all over the news and internet before he knew it.

His shame and trauma being the talk of the city once again.

The thought of people finding out, his parents, sister, Mob’s parents, Ritsu and Mob—

Would Mob be disgusted and agree with the punishment handed down to Reigen?

No, that wasn’t possible.

In the end, Mob would never have agreed with the punishment handed down to Reigen. Sweet, kind, and gentle Mob, who looked for the best in people, even if those people had harmed and used him.

Who chose not to extract the compensation he was owed from Reigen for his deceit.

Yes, Mob wouldn’t have agreed because of his gentle nature.

But maybe Mob should have agreed with it, Reigen contemplated, disgusted with him. For making Yamato cut his recompense—blood, tears, pain, and suffering—from Reigen.

Anger and resentment at Reigen for tying this noose made of lies.

Mob could never know what happened. Reigen had never been more sure of anything in his life. When it came to Mob, Reigen knew he would do anything for him.

Because Mob was kind and a good person.

The inverse of Reigen.

Disciple, friend, and family—the most precious person in Reigen’s pathetic life.

Reigen would never allow for Mob be dragged into this grave with him. Assuming that he would even have wanted to talk to Reigen again or have anything to do with him, his mind whispered cruelly. Mob should resent Reigen and hate him for all he had done.

The guilt ate Reigen up inside, because he knew he could only blame himself for this. He could feel his body tiring with each passing tick of the clock, and he knew he needed to leave soon.

Before he couldn’t move and gave up, becoming a sitting duck for Yamato to return to and—

He grabbed the raincoat, wrinkling the yellow fabric, as nausea roared to life within him. He wanted to be sick. Reigen was sick for tying Mob’s raincoat around his waist and using it in such a manner.

In the back of his mind, he pondered if he should be worried that he could wrap Mob’s raincoat around his waist so tightly, and for it to still hang loose.

Too thin, with too many meals missed after his appetite had left with Mob.

Guilt crawled up Reigen’s throat at the feel of Mob’s raincoat hanging limply from his waist, a heave escaping him. He had to go away, far from here and somewhere else. Somewhere safe and Mob came to mind unbidden while he glanced down at the raincoat.

He tried to adjust the raincoat to better cover the blood, stains and evidence from any prying eyes before limping to the door. Pain throbbed from his feet, head, neck, chest and hips—everywhere.

With numb and shaking hands, he pulled the office keys out of his torn pants, locking the door without a backwards glance. His head pounded from the hits to the desk.

A concussion, Reigen considered dazedly.

He blinked sluggishly, attempting to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. The streets were empty as he staggered in the direction of his apartment.

Reigen felt like a passenger in his own body, pain distantly resonating through his body with each step. As he blinked, he found himself stumbling through his apartment door.

Should he be worried that he was losing time?

Probably, Reigen mused, shuddering and throwing his shoes off.

Reigen was afraid to think about what he would wake up to find on the news and internet. What new humiliation could await him? Biting his lip, he limped to the bathroom, flicking the light on as he threw his clothes and Mob’s raincoat to the ground.

He flicked the light on as he threw his clothes and Mob’s raincoat to the ground.

The water burned, lighting his body up with a new pain. It felt as if his skin was being peel offed.

No, like he was being flayed alive.

But Reigen didn’t care, it wasn’t enough.

It would never be enough, even as he scrubbed at his body harder and tried to cleanse his body of Yamato’s touch—his scent that cut through to his very core and clung to his body—all he could smell was vetiver, leather and cinnamon.

Smoky, earthy and gut churning.

Even the scent of his lemon body wash did nothing, or perhaps it was Reigen’s mind still clinging to the scent of iron, coffee and Yamato?

All while red and white went down the shower drain. Never enough, because he was soiled.

Reigen was disgusting.

He could still feel the ghost of hands grabbing, pulling, and hurting him. He heaved and Reigen knew, in the same way he knew that the sky was blue, that he would never recover from this.

The Reigen from before was dead.

Sentenced, punished, and shattered.

Awareness came back to him gradually, his teeth chattering and ice-cold water soaking his shivering body. Turning the knob with numb hands, he stumbled out of the shower and made the mistake of glancing in the mirror.

Reigen knew it was him staring back in the mirror, but a distant part of him raged and wept. He saw the evidence of his sentencing in the mirror. He studied the mess Yamato had made of his face.

Lips split, red and swollen, still sluggishly bled, with dark bruises blooming on his cheek and forehead.

It was garish and striking, like ink on blank paper.

A glance at his neck had a shaking hand coming up to touch the red, swollen and weeping bite mark. Another shallower set of bite marks stood out like a beacon on his chest.

His eyes dropped to the scattered bruises and marks that had made their home on his body like a constellation. His wrists darkened by the marks left by his tie, Mob’s gift, his mind wept, and Yamato’s hands.

Reigen knew he shouldn’t look, but his gaze skittered down to his hips and—

He retched, bile rising in his throat as he lurched to the toilet; the dark marks covering his hips and lower half seared themselves into his memory. He was still gagging when he stumbled up and reached for his toothbrush.

Clean, he had to get clean.

Scrub this body inside and out.

Distantly, Reigen noted he was bleeding again when he spat out the toothpaste tinged red, letting the toothbrush clatter into it. The bite wound on his neck continued to bleed sluggishly and, after a glance down at his feet, Reigen realized he would have to throw out the bathroom mat as he blearily eyed the red pooling below him.

Opening the bathroom cabinet, he reached for the first aid kit, watching his hands—no, someone else’s hands—clean and wrap his wounds.

He would never be clean again, Reigen reflected, shaking out two painkillers into his quaking palm. With a glance at the mirror, Reigen peered up at his—no, someone else’s—body.

For a moment and just for a moment, a minute, just sixty seconds, Reigen deliberated and contemplated taking the bottle to swallow the rest of the pills.

His release, salvation and escape.

After, later, not now.

Freedom would have to wait until he apologized to Mob and repented. The conference would be his atonement, and Reigen could wait.

For Mob, he could wait forever.

Reigen would apologize, repent and—

His thoughts cut off as his eyes slid from his reflection and down to his thighs at the familiar feeling of wetness.

Reigen had to clean and treat his remaining wounds. He needed to be clean.

He went through the motions, sharp pain travelling up his spine with every shift and touch of his hand. Time slipped through his fingers again until Reigen was in front of his closet, grabbing a black pyjama set.

Long-sleeved, high neck, covering the marks, the evidence of his shame, guilt and failure.

Reigen curled up on his bed, dragging the covers over himself, a barrier and a shield against the world. His head pounded and Reigen knew, when he felt the lump on the side of his head, that he should go to the hospital.

But he couldn’t.

No, he refused to go, because then people would find out.

They would know who and what Reigen truly was.

That he was disgusting, his shame and guilt written across his body. The text message flitted through his mind, the ever-present threat and picture.

Unbidden, he thought of Mob. It wouldn’t be the first concussion or injury Reigen had considering his work, would it?

(Reigen blinked as the spirit in front of him lit up with a familiar power before fading away. He knew his hero was his precious disciple, who he looked up at from where he laid on the ground.

Mob peered down at him with a frown. “Please don’t call me on such short notice. Ah, you’re injured! Reigen-shishou—”

“Mob don’t worry! I’m your Shishou, aren’t I? A little bump to the head won’t kill me,” he said, taking Mob’s offered hand and rising to his feet. He tried to ignore the dark eyes staring at him with concern. “I’m the greatest psychic of the 21st century. Don’t worry so much! You just need to—”

“Shishou, please be more careful,” Mob sighed, hoisting his schoolbag higher, and staring at Reigen, resigned to his concerns being ignored. “I wish you would stop putting yourself in dangerous situations. What if I don’t make it in time, I—”)

Reigen was an adult and grown man. It was time for him to act like it, wasn’t it? He was fine, Reigen told himself, blinking blearily at the wall while sleep pulled at him, promising to take him away from the memories of hands and pain. He let that promise to take him away, dragging him down into the darkness.

If only it had been just a wretched nightmare.

But a week later and Reigen was shaking two more pills into his hand, a part of his mind musing that two weren’t enough. They would never be enough. He ignored that voice, throwing the pills back with a sip of water, glancing in the mirror to confirm that his injuries were healing.

Dark bruises were turning into shades of green and yellow across his body.

His split lip was nothing more than a memory from last week, and the marks along with the dark shadows under his eyes were hidden beneath foundation. Never had Reigen been more thankful to have some skill in applying makeup; gratitude towards his sister bloomed in his chest.

(“Arataka, stop moving or you’re gonna mess it up!” his sister snapped, brows pinched harshly, stray strands of blonde slipping from her ponytail as she cradled Reigen’s jaw in one hand.

She eyed the mark on Reigen’s face, jaw ticking and concern in her dark gaze. He knew his whining annoyed her at the best of times, but he wanted to distract her from the reason for the mark colouring his face.

“But Onee-chan! It hurts! You’re literally applying it on the bruise! I can’t help if I flinch. It’s a natural reaction!”

“You should have thought about that before you mouthed off to Tou-san, brat! What were you thinking? I won’t be here forever… I-I’m going to university soon, so you have to keep your head down. Please.”

He hated his sister had to suffer because Reigen was weak and strange. “I’m sorry. I know… I’ll try. D-don’t give me that look! I promise that I’ll try!”

“Hah… What am I going to do with you? Just… Ah, turn your head. You’ll need more coverage. Pay attention to how I’m applying it so you can do it yourself next time. There’s still some bruising here that’s showing through… he really got you good this time, didn’t he?”)

The bite mark on his chest healed well, Reigen reflected, but the one on his neck had scarred.

He knew it in his bones; in the same way he knew Mob would come to the office on the clock after school—and didn’t always make it in time to save Reigen—that the wound on his neck would be a scar he would carry forever.

Ah, what was he thinking?

It wasn’t Mob’s job to save Reigen or anyone. How pathetic and disgusting was he for thinking such a thing?

Revulsion scorched through him as he tugged on a white turtleneck and threw his regular blazer on top. He had already pushed his ties and button-ups to the back of his closet so long ago.

His dirty and shameful secret.

Reigen could never look at them again without remembering what had happened. The tie was nothing more than a memory of a collar around his neck, cuffs, and chains around his wrists. Once a beautiful gift from Mob but now ruined at the hands of Yamato. The button-up was too easy to remove, pull and tear.

The turtleneck was a shield against the world, hiding the bruising and scarring left on his neck.

His feet ached as he walked the gap from the bathroom to the front door, a dull, ever-present pain resonating through them when he slipped on his shoes.

He didn’t get to writing a script, did he, Reigen mused, stepping out of his apartment and making his way to the conference.

But it didn’t matter now. Reigen could never put into words what Mob meant to him. Nor how remorseful he was, his regret etched into his body and soul. He could only hope that his words, whatever they may be, could reach Mob.

“You’ve grown so much. You know that?”

Reigen was tired, exhaustion settling in his bones, and he wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed. But he couldn’t, not when Mob was back and in front of him.

Not when the colour had returned to his life, the setting sun casting the city and water in red.

Yes, Reigen could hold it together for longer for Mob.

Anything for Mob.

“What my Shishou really is…” Mob started to say.

He wanted to know what expression Mob had on his face right now. But Reigen didn’t want to look at him.

A part of him couldn’t bear to see whatever look, whether it was disgust, anger, and disappointment, that was surely on Mob’s face.

Even so, Reigen needed to know if Mob knew what he was. A fraud, fake, and con artist—weak, disgusting, and broken.

“…Is a genuinely good guy.”

(“It’s because you’re a bad person,” Yamato crooned, releasing Reigen’s face and stepping away. His eyes wrinkled at the corners as he took in the expression on Reigen’s face. “This is all your fault, and you can only blame yourself for this. If you hadn’t taken advantage of people, you wouldn’t be here, and I wouldn’t have to punish you like this.”)

He wanted to weep.

How could someone so kind and forgiving exist?

Mob thought Reigen was a good person.

But how long would it be before Mob realized Reigen would always be a filthy, weak, and shattered thing—that Reigen had allowed himself to be broken down and remade again at Yamato’s hands?

Reigen could feel Mob and Dimple’s stares burning into the side of his head. He couldn’t bear to look at them. If he glanced at them, would Mob see through him and find out?

Would he see the marks, bruises and manifestation of Reigen’s guilt and shame on his body?

He was afraid that he would break if he looked at Mob and Reigen knew he wouldn’t be able to stop once he shattered. He had promised himself that he would never involve Mob in this or chain him down by his trauma, hadn’t he?

Forcing himself to relax his shoulders and clenched jaw, Reigen turned to Mob and Dimple with a brittle smile. He could only hope the smile he gave them didn’t look as fake as it felt.

Somehow, he had found himself getting dragged out for dinner thereafter, despite how Reigen wanted to go home and hide away beneath his blanket.

But he couldn’t say no to Mob, nor fight the desire to stay at Mob’s side now that he was back.

Inhaling the familiar scent of Mob—jasmine, sandalwood and lilac—mixed with Dimple’s scent of rosemary, pimento and rosewood.

Familiar.

Soothing.

Safe.

Reigen knew he was fidgeting, which was nothing new to Mob or Dimple. Who took no notice, too caught up in their own conversation. He attempted to get comfortable again. His hips and lower half were aching.

Should he have brought pain killers with him? Though any thoughts of his painkillers fled when Dimple spoke to him.

“So… what the hell is up with the new look?” Dimple asked, when they all settled into their seats at the ramen shop. “Midlife crisis? You’re at that age, though, you geezer.”

His hand froze where it was reaching for his drink, and he hoped that neither Mob nor Dimple noticed. He had always worn the same tie and button-up in the time that Mob and Dimple had known him. Reigen expected this question, and he knew Mob and Dimple would eventually notice his new look.

“I don’t need a one thousand-year-old snot bubble asking me about a midlife crisis,” Reigen grumbled, looking up at them.

But his gaze skittered away from Mob’s stare, whose curious eyes he could feel burning into him.

“I don’t think a little change ever hurt anyone. You gotta keep up with the times, Dimple! Otherwise, life will pass you by and you know—businesses that don’t keep up with the times and don’t change… they don’t succeed,” he rambled, his hands fluttered about while avoiding Dimple’s dubious stare.

Reigen hazarded a glance towards Mob only to find a smile directed at him, one that he couldn’t help but respond to with a soft smile of his own.

“Dimple, be nice. I think Shishou looks good,” Mob said in his defence.

Even though Mob seemed to have forgiven him, had Reigen repented enough? Would it ever be enough?

“Mob, why don’t you go ahead and get extra chashu for yourself? My treat,” Reigen found himself saying, smiling at the way Mob’s eyes lit up.

The guilt still felt like a noose around his neck.

“Thank you, Shishou,” Mob said, a softly smile pulling at his lips. 

It was when Mob excused himself to the restroom while Reigen paid and waited outside the ramen shop that he noticed Dimple staring. A chill went up his spine and Reigen knew that, while it might have been easier to deceive Mob, Dimple was not so easily tricked.

“The hell was wrong with you?” Dimple inquired, floating closer. “You’re acting weird, not like that’s anything out of the ordinary for you.”

“Ahh, you know how it is. Age and all that, you sleep wrong once, and you wake up with a crick in your neck that lasts a week.”

“Do you think I’m stupid? Cause this is almost insulting,” Dimple grumbled, hands at his sides. “Let me rephrase that. You look like shit. When’s the last time you had a proper meal or slept? You look like something the dog dragged in, chewed up and spat out.”

“Geez, I knew you didn’t like the new look. But this is harsh even for you, Dimple. Keep this up and you might really hurt my feelings,” Reigen murmured, forcing himself to look at Dimple.

Glancing away or refusing to respond would have done nothing more than egg Dimple on and make it obvious that something was wrong.

“Ugh really… I’m only asking for Shigeo’s sake,” Dimple groaned, crossing his arms in agitation. “Don’t think it’s because I care or anything. I can’t have the kid worrying about you when he has to focus on our plan for world domination.”

He had to give Dimple something, anything to throw him off or satisfy his curiosity and concern for the moment. He knew he wasn’t behaving normally, flinching and wincing as he shifted. It was too raw, too recent, and he had barely recovered. Reigen knew he had a limp to his walk, and he could only hope Mob hadn’t noticed yet.

“Hah, just—okay, just listen,” he mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. “There were, or well, was people—a person—that was upset with me after they saw the broadcast, okay? They came by the office and there was a… an altercation. Nothing I couldn’t handle, but well… What can you do?” Reigen explained with a shrug, hoping that this half lie would make Dimple lay off and soothe his curiosity.

It wasn’t a lie, but not the truth either, Reigen thought. He felt guilty knowing they had all just reunited, and even then, he couldn’t stop lying. He could feel Dimple’s gaze burning into him, assessing him for any lies or signs of deceit.

“Well, I can’t say that I blame them. You can’t really fault people for being upset at being scammed, can you?” Dimple mused out loud, obvious to how his words made Reigen’s stomach churn. “Seeing as you’re still in the business, it doesn’t look like they scared you off, did they? Guess you really can’t teach an old dog new tricks, huh?”

He knew his hands were trembling, and he shoved them into the pockets of his pants. He felt cold. Reigen knew Dimple meant nothing with his words. If he had known and saw him being taken apart, he wouldn’t have been saying this, would he? Reigen didn’t think Dimple would, but a part of him still wondered.

“No… no, I guess you can’t,” Reigen whispered, biting his lip before glancing up to hold Dimple’s stare. “You can’t tell Mob. It’ll just worry him, and he doesn’t need to know.”

Dimple nodded in agreement, but thankfully Reigen was saved from whatever response Dimple had with Mob rejoining them.

“Sorry for taking so long, there was a line-up for the bathroom,” Mob explained, peering up at Dimple and Reigen.

“Well, that’s a relief. I was thinking we’d have to send a search party soon,” Reigen teased lightly.

He needed to leave now.

Whatever else Dimple or Mob wanted to say would have to wait until tomorrow. Reigen’s mind was fraying, and the last of his nerves were shot.

At the sudden silence, he glanced over to find both Dimple and Mob gazing at him. Dimple, with the beginnings of suspicion, painting his expression once again. While Mob stared at Reigen with eyes full of curiosity and, what Reigen could recognize after years of being around him, apprehension.

“Shishou, are you okay?” Mob asked, tilting his head and studying him.

Reigen glanced towards Dimple, who did nothing more than stare back with a raised eyebrow and pursed lips.

Traitor, Reigen thought with an internal scowl.

“Ah, when you get to my age you’ll understand,” he said, but Mob was fixated as he observed Reigen. He knew he would have to give something to keep Mob from pushing more. “Really, I’m okay. I’m just… tired after everything. It’s been a lot. I’m glad it’s over with and I’m glad to have you back.”

It seemed to have worked, Reigen mulled, watching the furrow in Mob’s brow smooth out and his expression fall carefully blank again. Mob shrugged his schoolbag up higher on his shoulder with a nod.

“I’m glad to be back.”

“Hm… Uhm, will you be alright getting home by yourself?” Reigen couldn’t help but ask, thinking of the dangers in the city while worry passed through him.

“No, I’ll be alright,” Mob said, before pausing and then speaking again. “Will you be okay getting home? I can walk you home or Dimple can.”

“Ha, I’ll be fine, I’m not so old that I need a middle schooler or a floating booger to walk me home,” his attempt to soothe Mob’s concern didn’t seem to work with the way Mob’s stare didn’t leave his, nor with how his brows furrowed in concern. “Really, I’ll be fine. I’m just tired. It’s nothing that some sleep won’t fix.”

“I’ll show you a floating booger, you crook—” Dimple started to say, only to be interrupted by Mob.

“Promise me,” Mob requested, grip tightening on his schoolbag.

Reigen felt like his lungs were filled with ice, and dread washed over him.

Did Mob know?

Had he somehow seen the marks, or was Reigen’s shame that obvious on his body?

For a moment, he could only feel fear and his breath catching. Could Mob’s powers have somehow shown him what had happened to Reigen—the evidence, judgement and suffering that painted his body?

But with a quick look at Mob and Dimple, Reigen knew they couldn’t have known.

If they had known, they wouldn’t have held back, nor would they be looking at him with such concern.

“Promise what?” he questioned, holding Mob’s stare, who let out a quiet huff, struggling to find his words.

“Promise me you’ll be fine—that you’re okay—and that, uhm… You'll tell me if something is wrong,” Mob murmured.

Reigen struggled to keep his mask from failing him as remorse struck him at having to lie to Mob again. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m an adult and can take care of myself.”

“Reigen-shishou.”

"Ah… I promise I’m fine. If there was—and there isn't anything wrong—I would let you know,” Reigen said, shoving a hand into the pocket of his pants, though it brushed against his house keys and the key to the office he kept on a chain.

He was pulling it out of his pocket before he knew it, letting it rattle while Dimple and Mob watched him remove the office key from the chain. This wasn’t something he had planned or ever really thought of, but it felt right.

“Hold your hand out,” Reigen requested with a tired grin.

Mob tilted his head in confusion, sharing a look with Dimple before he did as requested. His hand brushed against Mob’s palm when Reigen placed the key in his hand and pulled away just as quickly.

“…Shishou?” Mob whispered, pulling his hand back to eye the key and then peer up at him.

Reigen held his grin, however wobbly it was. “In case you ever need to get into the office and I’m not there. I mean… you can use your powers, but I doubt you’d do that, right?”

This was more symbolic than that, wasn’t it?

Even though Reigen owned the business, Mob also belonged there just as much, even if—when—he moved on to better and bigger things, it would still be his home that he would welcome him into forever.

He didn’t need to say much else, because Mob understood the deeper meaning behind his words. His dark eyes softened, lips pulling into a fond smile while Dimple watched them silently.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Ah, it’s getting late. You should head home,” he said, glancing at his watch and then towards Mob, who still seemed uncertain.

As if he could sense something was wrong or that Reigen was hiding something from him.

Mob bit his lip, seemingly warring with himself, eyes continuing to search Reigen’s face for any signs of deception. But he wouldn’t have found any, because Reigen wore this mask like a familiar and comforting sweater. A shield from the world.

Though Reigen wasn’t sure what to make of the expression on Mob’s face. He found Mob harder to read than ever at that moment as Mob’s lips thinned out before his expression fell carefully flat once again.

“Okay… Please get home safely. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Reigen sighed in relief. His hand was ruffling Mob’s hair before he realized it. He wanted to flinch and pull his hand away from Mob. Reigen was dirty, disgusting and tainted. It was all he could do to force his hand to remain steady before he carefully pulled it back and shoved it deep into his pockets—before he poisoned and stained Mob with his touch.

“Uwah, so serious. Are all middle schoolers like this? How scary.”

Mob peered up at him and he must have done something right, Reigen thought, when Mob’s expression softened, and his lips quirked up.

“Goodnight, Shishou,” Mob murmured, and with one last glance at Reigen he was turning and heading in the direction of his home.

Dimple sent one last lingering glance at him, one which Reigen couldn’t find the strength in himself to even begin to dissect before he started his walk home. That went by quickly and he was back in the safety of his apartment before he knew it, moving through the motions to do his nighttime routine.

It was when he stepped out of the shower and was shrugging on his pyjamas that Reigen glanced at his mirror. The dark circles under his eyes were steadily worsening while the bruises and injuries on his body had faded.

The mark on his neck stood out starkly against his ashen skin as he staggered against the sink when his mind flashed back to the pain and—

(He was torn from his thoughts again at the familiar drag of teeth tearing into his neck, pulling another broken cry from Reigen when skin broke.)

No, Reigen had to stay, didn’t he?

For Mob.

He had to continue to live, dragging this empty husk that was his body through the motions.

Whether he wanted to or not, Reigen mused, eyeing the bottle of painkillers next to the bathroom sink.

Mob forgave him and let Reigen back into his life, had he not?

How could Reigen think about traumatizing him further than he already had been? His mind flashed back to Mogami, another fault on Reigen’s shoulder’s fault for bringing Mob on the job.

The guilt threatened to kill him one day. Reigen was ashamed to admit he would accept death with open arms and a smile.

But until then, he had to push through this. At least until Mob finally decided to leave after realizing Reigen would never be a good person.

Chapter Text

It happened when he was carrying green tea for both Mob and himself, glancing fondly at Mob, who was putting his all into studying for his exams. A simple misstep that had Reigen stumbling just as he reached Mob’s desk, feeling hands before he saw them, gripping onto his arms to stop his fall.

Reigen knew in the part of his brain that seemed to have shut off when he felt hands on him, that it was Mob. Kind and sweet Mob, whose hands were too small, nothing like the ghost of large hands that had broken Reigen.

Too gentle, unlike the hands that had left a constellation of bruises and marks on Reigen’s body. But his body didn’t know any different, and the fear seized him all the same. He ripped himself from that grasp, taking sharp and shuddering breaths.

Distantly, Reigen heard a familiar voice cry out for him, but it was all he could do to keep himself standing while he stumbled away and into the back of the couch. The couch dug into his back before his legs gave out, knees aching when they hit the ground and Reigen was—

(Back on his desk again, worn wood digging into it while hands grabbed at him and teeth broke skin. There was the sound of glass shattering, the scent of coffee and vetiver, leather and cinnamon in the air. Then there was a cold knob under his hand, a yellow raincoat catching his eye and—

Oh, Reigen had to return Mob’s raincoat, didn’t he?)

In the end, he found awareness coming back to him, breaths rattling wetly in his chest and Reigen knew he had lost time again when he took in the night sky through the windows. A soft mumble caught his focus, making his head snap toward the voice to find Mob crouching down in front of him.

“Tome-san wanted to go alien hunting again this weekend,” Mob murmured, dark eyes gazing at Reigen with worry.

Reigen blinked dazedly, watching Mob’s lips move as he found his mind slowly returning to his body while he listened to Mob’s soft voice.

“Mob… y-you should be studying,” was all he could croak.

His eyes burned and face felt damp with tears, Reigen realized in shame. Mob was moving closer, hands coming up while his face pinched in concern.

“Are you okay?”

He knew it was Mob, who could and would never, even though he should, hurt Reigen. But his eyes were still on Mob’s hands, unable to stop himself from recoiling back into the couch.

The surprise and then hurt flitting over Mob’s face did nothing to soothe Reigen. It only made the shame and guilt worsen. Reigen had done this, he thought to himself, watching Mob slowly lower his hands back into his lap, where they clutch at the fabric of his gakuran, wrinkling it in a white-knuckled grasp.

“Shishou?”

“Ah, it’s okay. I’m fine. My body is—it’s—ah, still recovering from that stomach flu,” Reigen explained lamely, pushing himself up with a brittle smile towards Mob whose brows only furrowed further. “It’s late. I think it’s best that you head home for the day. Your parents will worry.”

Exhaustion was the anchor pulling at him, making Reigen want to collapse into a heap and sob. Instead, he shuffled over to his desk, feeling Mob’s stare burning into his back.

He was rambling, Reigen knew he was, but he couldn’t bear to see what look Mob had on his face. It was shame and fear that kept his eyes focused on his laptop. Because if he looked at Mob, then he would finally realize just how disgusting and filthy Reigen was.

But this was Mob, which meant another argument was brewing.

“Shishou.”

“There’s this new ramen shop—”

“Shishou.”

“We should check it out. I—”

“Shishou.”

“Heard it has good reviews and—”

“Reigen-shishou.”

A pale hand gently pushed shut his laptop, making Reigen’s words catch in his throat when his gaze snapped up accusingly towards Mob on the other side of Reigen’s desk. The look of absolute concern, full of nothing but tenderness, made him want to crawl into a hole. Reigen was the reason for Mob to have that look on his face.

This was Reigen’s fault.

“Mob.”

“Something is wrong.”

“What makes you think that something is wrong?” he snapped back, forcing himself to hold Mob’s stare, knowing that to look away was to admit to his guilt.

He almost huffed out a laugh at the look of indignation and exasperation flashing over Mob’s face at his response. “You collapsed and had a panic attack. Again.”

“Well, it’s like I told you before. Panic attacks can happen to anyone and—”

“You fainted last week.”

“Ah… Well, I’m still recovering from that stomach bug.”

“You had that stomach bug 6 weeks ago,” Mob pushed forward without giving Reigen time to throw together a response. “You haven’t been eating, and you don’t look well. You’re flinching all the time and you haven't been sleeping either, have you?”

Reigen wasn’t sure what to say. It was as if his tongue had turned to stone in his mouth, refusing to let him spin some sweet lie for Mob to fall for. His silence had Mob’s brows furrowing further and frown tugging at his lips, hand twitching where it laid on the laptop still, as if wanting to reach for Reigen.

Would it be out of turn if Reigen were to suddenly ask Mob when he had become so touchy with him? He always hovered near Reigen, reaching for him, worry ever-present in his dark eyes.

He knew he was to blame for that after fainting last week and his unusual behaviour since that day. His stomach turned, making Reigen want to reach for the garbage can to throw up what little he had eaten today.

His ribs were stark on this body and food tasted like ash, but he couldn’t forget the look of fear on Mob’s face last week when Reigen had awoken in his arms after fainting.

“If something is wrong, I-I…” Mob stuttered while Reigen eyed his hands clench and unclench while he attempted to find his words. “I’m here… so, please don’t try to do this on your own.”

“…Thank you for your concern,” lies froth out of his mouth like blood, even while Mob’s face fell blank, already knowing Reigen was going to dissuade him and feed him another lie. He just couldn’t stop himself from lying, could he? No matter how badly the guilt was killing him. “But I’m fine. Really. It’s that stomach bug.”

There was nothing but sadness on Mob’s face, jaw ticking, eyes pinched in worry as he pulled his clenched hand back. Mob shouldn’t have that look on his face, another blame to be laid at Reigen’s feet for exposing Mob to his trauma and suffering.

Mob opened his mouth to argue further, Reigen was sure of it. But he couldn’t argue with Mob again and again like this. Not when both Mob and Dimple were pushing back against Reigen, no longer easily dissuaded by his flimsy excuses or lies.

He spoke before he could think. “Please… not today.”

Reigen prepared himself for whatever verbal spar that was about to ensue, as Mob worked his jaw, mouth opened and clicking shut. But just as suddenly Mob’s shoulders drooped, the fight leaving him while he had stared at Reigen through his fringe with a look he couldn’t decipher.

“I see.”

When Mob stepped back from his desk—from Reigen—he was just barely able to keep himself from begging for Mob to say. To not leave him again, but all he could do was watch in silence while Mob returned to his desk to pack his things back in his schoolbag.

Throwing his schoolbag on his shoulder, Mob took a quick look over to make sure he had forgotten nothing before glancing at Reigen with a blank look.

“I'll see you tomorrow, Reigen-shishou. Please take care in getting home.” 

A familiar bitterness crawled up his throat, making Reigen resist the urge to call Mob back. He wanted to apologize, grovel and beg Mob to stay—to never leave his side again.

Yet he stayed his tongue and watched the door click shut behind Mob.

Even still, Mob remained at his side despite Reigen’s shift behaviour and lies. How lucky was he to have Mob?

Sometimes Reigen was sick with his own inability to be honest and that was how he found himself in this latest situation, wasn’t it? 

“Are you crazy? What’s with that outfit?! Are you trying to overheat and send yourself to an early grave?” Dimple laughed, taking in the high collar, long sleeves and sweatpants Reigen was wearing for their workout.

Reigen rolled his eyes, not deigning Dimple with a response while shutting the office bathroom door and starting his own stretches by the couches. Mob started at Dimple’s words, halting in his own stretches to take in Reigen’s attire.

“I agree with Dimple. It’s warm out. Are you sure you don’t want to change into something else?”

“Maah, Mob, have some faith in your Shishou! This is a special training technique! You want to overheat, it’s the whole point,” he rattled off, making Mob’s face twist at his words.

“At least consider wearing a t-shirt instead. I have a spare that you can borrow,” Mob muttered, digging through his gym bag while Reigen chuckled at the thought of fitting into Mob’s shirt.

He idly noted the look Mob and Dimple shared. The beginnings of unease settled in his stomach. Reigen wanted to tell them to stop looking at him and treating him as if he was made of glass.

Though, sometimes he felt as if they were seeing through him and at the scars on his body and soul. He refused to part with his current attire. The high-collared shirt hid the scar on his neck and skin from the eyes of others.

Without him realizing it, his new wardrobe had become his shield against the world.

“I don’t think your shirt will fit,” he said, ignoring the concerned look Dimple sent him before he phased through the office door, leaving just Mob and Reigen.

His words had Mob pausing in his search to glance at Reigen with a frown. “I think there’s a chance it could fit. It'll be short, but… Uhm, you’ve lost a lot of weight…”

Mob trailed off, spare shirt clenched in a white-knuckle grasp, eyes darting from Reigen’s face and to his body, as if he wouldn’t take notice.

“Seriously, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine! I’m still recovering from that stomach bug, remember? Let’s just focus on your training, okay?” he drawled, hoping he sounded convincing, even with the lie feeling flimsy on his tongue.

“That stomach bug was weeks ago,” Mob muttered under his breath, shoulders drooping when Reigen said nothing.

Reigen can’t stop his eyes from skittering away from Mob’s wounded look to stare at the wall behind him. To the poster he had made so long ago, when he was happier and different—before Yamato had killed him.

What could he even say to Mob, Reigen mused in exhaustion.

It wasn’t as if he could tell Mob the reason for his loss of appetite, could he? That Reigen’s appetite had been ripped from him just like his dignity, happiness and sense of safety. No, he couldn’t say that to Mob.

Instead, he clamped a hand down on Mob’s shoulder, giving him what Reigen hoped was a reassuring smile. Apparently, it didn’t work with the how Mob stared back, a frown at his lips and discontent clear.

"Shishou, after the marathon is over there’s something…" Mob started to say, grimacing and struggling to find his words. “Something that I—Dimple and I—would like to talk to you about.”

There was a pit in Reigen’s stomach, and he hoped his unease didn’t show on his face. But it did nothing to soothe the anger simmering within him. He wanted to refuse and tell Mob to mind his own business.

How dare he push?

What gave Mob the right when he was the one who left Reigen to be taken apart on that desk, and—

(“It’s because you’re a bad person,” Yamato crooned, releasing Reigen’s face and stepping away.)

Reigen opened his mouth to lash out and say there was nothing to talk about when his words caught in his throat. A hand settled around his wrist, making his eyes dart down to stare at Mob.

Making him finally take in Mob’s concerned expression, the small and gentle hand wrapped around Reigen’s frail wrist, and shame struck him like lightening.

(Yamato’s eyes wrinkled at the corners as he took in the expression on Reigen’s face. “This is all your fault, and you can only blame yourself for this. If you hadn’t taken advantage of people, you wouldn’t be here, and I wouldn’t have to punish you like this.”)

What had he just been about to say to Mob?

Disgust coated his heart like rot. It felt like the shame would choke him or perhaps the guilt would kill him first? Reigen was always so shameless and selfish, wasn’t he? He wanted to beg Mob to not make him say it—to not force Reigen to speak of what had happened to him in the walls of the office—but there was nothing to be said now.

Not when Reigen wanted to continue pretending all was well.

“…Fine. We can talk after the marathon,” was all Reigen could say, swallowing the lump trapped in his throat, while his hand reached to ruffle Mob’s tresses.

Mob hummed in response; a searching look on his face as he leaned into his hand with a smile. Reigen couldn’t help the warmth that washed over his heart like a balm at the pleased and happy look on Mob’s face.

He realized he had no way of winning this argument. They would corner him eventually, and Reigen knew he would have to come up with something to say to them.

Anything to deceive and trick them when the time came.

Reigen recognized he needed to eat more, to take care of himself again and stop living like a corpse if he wanted the others to stop badgering him.

Tugging his wrist out of Mob’s loose grasp, he sighed, pondering once again, when had Mob become so clingy and touchy? He patted Mob on his shoulder, nudging him towards the door as they headed down to meet with Dimple.

Ready to start Mob’s training for the day, with Reigen contemplating his next steps while he jogged beside Mob with Dimple, an ever-present cheerleader, trailing behind them.

The air was humid, and the streets cast in a red glow from the sunset as they made their way around the neighbourhood. His high collared zip up, soaked in sweat, stuck to his back. Making him huff and wipe at the sweat trailing down his face with his sleeve.

His scar itched to the point Reigen could barely keep himself from bringing a hand up to scratch and tear into it until it bled.

Reigen saw Dimple send him a concerned look from the corner of his eye, and he knew if he were to look to his left, he would find Mob looking at him with a similar expression. It was in these moments he was truly thankful that Mob was so focused on his training and confessing to his crush.

It made him feel like such a selfish and wretched thing at the relief he found in that. Sickened for partially giving Mob time off, not just to train, but to put distance between him and Reigen—to keep him safe, away and untainted by Reigen’s sins and mistakes.

For all his skills as a con artist and his ability to slide on a mask like a familiar suit, Reigen had never been worse at hiding things from Mob. Before Mob would have listened and accepted anything Reigen said without question. But now Mob was constantly questioning him, hovering and sending him worried stares when he thought Reigen wasn’t looking.

There was no denying that Reigen had made Mob and Dimple worry with his recent behaviour.

They were hovering around Reigen the last several weeks, to the point it felt smothering. It took all his energy just to keep going and to piece together some sort of persona for the others.

Even that wasn’t enough, Reigen mulled, slowing his jog slightly and carefully avoiding Mob’s questioning look.

Things had had only gotten more difficult with Ritsu and Teru snooping around the office. He had thought he would have some time and reprieve by letting Mob take time off to train. Relief in knowing that with Mob and Dimple focused on the marathon, Reigen could drop his act to crumble in peace.

Though thinking back on it, with Mob’s hovering and how protective behaviour had increased in the last several weeks, Reigen couldn’t truly bring himself to be surprised that Mob had them come to the office in his place.

The look of alarm and concern, both unearned, from Teru and Ritsu had shame rocking through Reigen. Smothered by the loathing towards himself for needing to rely on children for help.

With guilt, he smothered the laughter threatening to leave him at the thought of how low he had fallen for Ritsu, of all people, to be worried about him.

A part of him had hoped it was a one-off visit, but their visits continued in the absence of Mob. But Reigen knew he would continue to puppeteer the strings for this body and have it play its role as Mob’s Shishou. He knew he didn’t fool them as he remembered their gazes burning into his back and their disturbed expressions an ever-present fixture.

Yet, a small part of himself found he didn’t care, as long as he kept Mob in the dark.

Continuing to be unaware of how disgusting Reigen truly was, the man Mob had unknowingly kept at his side and called his shishou—the carcass and empty vessel that had been left in Reigen’s place.

He just wanted to be left alone, Reigen reflected, his plea to the world when he stumbled over the cracked cement.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Mob’s hands twitch as if to reach for him. Hurt flickered over Mob’s face when Reigen cringed away.

That look didn’t belong on Mob’s face, but it disappeared as quickly as it came, with Mob’s expression carefully falling blank as he resumed jogging.

All Reigen wanted was to lick his wounds in peace and pretend that none of this ever happened. He didn’t want to have to dodge questions, concerned gazes and disappointed looks.

He could only hope Mob would forget and eventually refocus his attention elsewhere once his training was over, like on confessing to his crush. Reigen could deal with Dimple’s pestering, but with Mob, he found the guilt ate him up more than ever inside with each lie slipping past his lips like oil and blood.

There was endless concern from Mob when it came to Reigen, no matter where or who they were with.

(“Shishou, you haven’t finished your ramen.”

“Shishou, are you okay?”

“Shishou, is something wrong?”

“Shishou, please talk to me.”

“Shishou, you don’t have to do this on your own.”

“Shishou.”

“Shishou.”

“Shishou.”)

All Mob seemed to focus on was Reigen, he mused, thinking of the ever-present furrow in Mob’s brows that had made itself at home whenever he glanced at Reigen.

A part of him knew that Mob no longer believed him when Reigen told him he was fine. The lie was fake and heavy in the air between them.

But for now, he would take whatever reprieve from their pestering that he could get, Reigen decided, pace picking up—even then, he knew that the pestering was misplaced concern, care, and love that Reigen didn’t deserve. 

In the end, when he thought back on it, they were never able to have that chat, were they?

The day of the marathon had ended well, pride settling in Reigen’s chest as he reflected on the results of Mob’s hard work. He had wanted to take Mob out that week to celebrate all his hard work and determination.

But it never happened, Reigen mused, watching the sky burst with lights as Mob fought against Claw’s leader.

Worry wrapped itself around his heart at the sound of laughter, so free and full of joy, coming from the battle above—from Mob.

He would acknowledge later that a part of Reigen had hoped this would be the end for him when he had gone up against Suzuki in the tower—that Reigen could repay Mob for the way he used him and for continuing to lie to him, by dying for him.

Reigen would have welcomed death.

Finally, he would be free, and a part of him—one Reigen wished didn’t fester in his rotting heart like a decaying corpse—was angered that he had been saved, robbing him from being able to repent and taking his salvation from his hands.

But his mind flashed back to the look of horror and anguish on Mob’s face when Reigen had disappeared behind flames. How could he even think of putting Mob through that? Yet despite the shame, Reigen didn’t regret it.

He would have done it over and over again, as many times as he need to ensure Mob was safe and happy. Later, when he peered up at Mob’s unconscious body floating beside him as they made their way through rubble, Reigen’s resolve solidified once more.

Reigen would never regret protecting Mob.

He would do it over again and over again, as many times as needed to keep Mob safe and happy. It’s later when he looks up at Mob’s unconscious body floating beside him while they all make their way through the rubble, that his resolve solidifies once more.

Gazing upon Mob, his ruined uniform and face pinched in pain even while unconscious ate Reigen up inside. The responsibility placed on Mob’s shoulder was too great, and only added further trauma onto the ordeals Mob had faced already.

Mob could never find out, Reigen reminded himself, stumbling over rubble while his body ached. 

Though things had changed so much in a short time, hadn’t it?

With Claw having been brought down and everyone trying to rebuild in the aftermath—with Mob trying to live with the destruction of the city and his powers—and in the end, peace was still out of their reach.

It felt like they had lived centuries with all that had happened in what felt like a short amount of time, from Claw to the Divine tree.

They had lost Dimple, leaving an empty space at their sides and in their hearts that could never truly heal.

Oh, how Reigen wished Dimple were here.

Words he had never thought would ever pass his lips.

As much as Dimple frustrated him at times, Reigen appreciated him for all his support and friendship.

He knew Dimple recognized something had happened the day they had spoken outside the ramen shop what felt like eons ago. Reigen knew it in how Dimple would send concerned looks at him and how he would come by the office without Mob to watch over him.

Staring down at his ramen bowl filled to the brim was a strange time to have this moment of realization. His eyes drifted over his hands and forearms, where they laid on the edge of table bare with his sleeves rolled up. He observed the jutting bones of his wrists and hands—wrists that large hands had pressed down, and a beloved tie had bound, the skin pale and translucent.

Rather than black and blue.

His veins stood out starkly on his increasingly thin hands, arms, and body. A ruined, disgusting and sullied thing, wasn’t it? He peered over at Mob, who was staring morosely at his now empty ramen bowl.

Reigen grieved for Dimple, himself and Mob.

Mob who was so young and had been through so much already, too much trauma for someone his age. Reigen recognized he had had to be there for him, and he wanted to make up for all the times that he had already failed Mob.

For all the times Reigen used Mob without a care in the world.

He gave Mob a smile when his eyes locked onto his. That faded when Mob’s gaze flickered to his arms, wrists and full ramen bowl—a grimace settling over Mob’s features that had him looking away. Reigen knew he was hurting Mob by wasting away in front of him, a living corpse.

Dimple would have been upset with him for doing this to Mob and for not taking better care of himself.

(“Geez, I’ve seen Shigeo throw back more food, and he’s a shrimp. I don’t think that you’ll be walking on any runways anytime soon, Reigen, so it won’t kill you to have a bit more—”

“I’ve seen skeletons with more meat on them. Unless you have plans to join the afterlife soon, you should start eating more—”

“I think you need some beauty sleep, Reigen. I didn’t think that mug of yours could get any uglier—”

“The kid’s worried, Reigen. Hell, you have me worried! You look like shit, seriously—”

“Hey… don’t make this weird, okay? But you know you can talk to me about anything, right—”

“Reigen… please. You’re not eating or sleeping and if not for yourself, take care of yourself for Shigeo, at least. The kid can’t—won’t—be able to handle it if anything happens to you—”)

His hands were moving without his say-so, the warm broth settling in his stomach like a rock Reigen forced himself to swallow. His stomach flipped, unsettled by the amount of food being forced in, but he pushed himself to continue until his bowl was empty. Chopsticks clanked in the empty bowl when he settled back in his seat with a grunt, hands trembling under the table and clutching at his pants while his stomach churned.

A glance at Mob had Reigen forcing bile down, smiling at the look settling on his disciple’s face. It was one that Reigen hadn’t seen in a while.

That familiar look of admiration, mixed with love and care. Mob shouldn’t have looked at Reigen with such kindness, but it never failed to settle its way into Reigen’s mutilated heart like a salve.

He could still feel the whispers of hands on his wrists, hips, back, everywhere, and the sound of glass breaking. But Reigen needed to be healthy and okay for Mob.

After all, Reigen would have done anything for Mob.

A belief, wish and promise that would never change, even now when the storm flung rubble and objects around them.

Mob was the only thing on Reigen’s mind when he ran past Serizawa, ignoring his shout of concern, hoping and praying to make it in time to save Mob.

To protect Mob and keep him safe, recompensing him and repent for all the times Reigen had failed him.

It was for Mob that Reigen felt his body ache, and break as the world turned around him. Wind whipped at his clothes while his head pounded, and bones broke. It was Reigen’s blood painting the ruined streets when he forced himself back up again with a whimper.

Again and again.

There was a part of Reigen, small and childish, that wept and ached at the thought of Mob being the one to cause the hurts aching through his body. His disciple, a precious person, kind and gentle, Mob.

But after Yamato. Reigen had accepted that he deserved this. He deserved to be hurt, and it was Mob’s right to cut his piece of retribution out of Reigen, wasn’t it? He wanted to weep at the reality that Mob had been suffering all that time in silence and Reigen, stupid, broken and rotten, had been unable to help him.

Even then, Reigen couldn’t save Mob, so caught up in his own trauma and grief that he let it blind him to Mob’s pain.

Always so selfish, Reigen thought deliriously, blinking through the blood dripping into his eyes.

The disgust bubbling in his stomach clawed at the inside of his throat, making him heave and swallow down bile. He had to do this for Mob, repent, and then maybe Reigen could finally rest.

Rubble dug into his bare feet, grounding him in the present, rather than in the past, on an old and worn wooden desk with a shadow looming above him.

He forced his limbs to move, despite feeling like a puppet with its strings cut and being thrown against rubble. Tearing a pained cry from him, body wailing with every new agony forced upon it.

Reigen let out a wet gasp, his ribs howling in anguish and head pounding when he felt Mob’s ankle slip out of his grasp. Failure, a voice sneered as Mob’s form grew distant, and darkness ate at the edges of Reigen’s vision.

It wasn’t fair for him to hurt so much, Reigen thought, wearing the pain like a second skin and for him to have caused so much hurt to others—to Mob.

If Reigen had been a good person and better shishou, would things have been different? Would he have been able to save Mob and prevent this from happening?

Would Mob have been happier?

Untouched and untraumatized by Claw, Suzuki and Reigen.

All his failures had caught up to him, and Mob was suffering for it. Reigen blinked dazedly, vision darkening, and pondering if he should be concerned about the amount of blood leaving him.

A broken cry left him when a familiar green glow entered his vision alongside the familiar scent of rosemary, pimento and rosewood.

Relief filled him immediately, making him sob breathlessly through the pain. “D-Dimple!”

“Yo, Reigen! Don’t go falling asleep on the job now,” he let Dimple's familiar voice wash over him, feeling the pain in his body become background noise when Dimple’s soothing presence settled within him. “Looks like the kid’s done a number on you, huh? Come on, we gotta go. I know you’re hurting, but Shigeo needs us.”

Just as suddenly, Reigen felt his hands tighten in Mob’s, tears blurring his vision as he exposed his deceits. His shame, selfishness and betrayal that he had tried to hide behind pretty words.

There was a part of him that wondered if it was enough and if he would be forgiven—released, pardoned, and exonerated of his crimes—his sentence finally over.

“This is… the real me.”

Mob’s silence and his stare made concern race down his spine. What else was there to say, grovel, beg, and plead for? Could Mob see the other lies painted on Reigen’s skin?

Did Mob see the hands burning marks across his body, leaving bruises wherever they touched, until Reigen’s body was no longer his, but Yamato’s.

Maybe Mob wanted to tear and cut his retribution from Reigen’s shattered body?

As was his right, Reigen mused as the silence continued. Mob’s gaze never left his face and was this it? Was Mob’s silence an answer in itself that he knew Reigen was still lying to him?

Was it that Mob knew Reigen was nothing but a disgusting thing?

That Reigen clutched the shame of that memory, nightmare and judgement, close to his heart. A humiliating secret burrowed behind his bruised and battered ribs.

Detachedly, Reigen contemplated, if he would have to let Mob rip him open to see the truth of his judgement, of hands and pain, bleed out around him like white peonies blooming in the spring.

Or perhaps Mob would simply put a hand through Reigen’s shattered chest himself, to where his tainted and fragmented heart lay.

Would that be how he dragged the last lie and humiliation out of Reigen, by shattering his mask around their feet like shattered glass?

He would have let him, Reigen decided.

Mob could peel back Reigen’s skin from his bone, burrowing inside his chest to see the rot that stained his heart, soul and dreams. He would have done anything if it meant saving him.

Anything for Mob.

Reigen didn’t think that he could be brought down any lower, but he would have for Mob. Debased himself once again if needed for Mob. He would have let Mob drown him in his resentment and anger. He couldn’t feel anything beyond the aches in his body and the hollowness in his chest.

His jaw clenched as he readied himself to expose his shame, the pain, scars, and marks etched into his body. Lay his neck under the guillotine and have his lies bleed out for Mob. Cut and spread himself open to tell Mob, his precious, most important person, that Reigen was broken.

He was a mess of a human being, disgusting, deceitful, manipulative and, at his very core, a bad person.

Just as his mouth opened, prepared to reveal his shame, Mob’s hair started to slowly float back down and into place. His expression smoothed out while he walked past Reigen and Dimple towards the park without a second glance.

Reigen didn’t ponder the feelings that settled in his heart, rueful and relieved, while he gazed at Mob’s retreating back.

It happened as they made the trek back to Serizawa with Reigen stumbling alongside Mob. His body screamed in pain with every step, but there was a sharp ache resonating through his feet, making him glance down at them.

He regretted it immediately.

Dazedly, Reigen stared at the bloody footprints trailing behind him and then back again to the blood pooling beneath his feet. It made Reigen think of bloody footprints scattered amongst the blooming drops of white and red.

His arm slid off Mob’s shoulder when he staggered back, uncoordinated and clumsy amongst the broken streets. He could hear Mob and Dimple’s voices raised in concern, but it felt like Reigen was underwater.

The sound of his pounding heart was all he could hear.

It wasn’t fair, Reigen reflected, trying to blink past the darkness and spots blurring his vision.

Once again, salvation had escaped him, his body giving out as he collapsed in a heap of broken limbs and pain.

Oh, how close Reigen had been to freedom. For just a moment, nothing but a fleeting second, he wished for that stone to have completed the job—for it to have ended his life, finally allowing Reigen to escape this disgusting body of his.

Caving his head in the same way that his heart and soul had been fractured.

Reigen heard voices shouting and small hands grabbing at him, but the only sound he could truly make out was Mob’s tearful voice.

“Shishou!”

“It’s not your fault,” was all Reigen could slur past the blood pooling in his mouth.

It was within your right, went left unsaid. 

In the end, they never had that chat, not then, and certainly not now.

Nor did they ever speak of what happened that day, or of a nightmare that Reigen was trapped within to this day—of teeth biting into his neck, a parting gift, alongside another scar that had made its home on Reigen’s body.

Still, he found himself relieved, not wanting to open that wound again when it was still raw and bloody.

He was still frightened at the thought of Mob’s response. That he would tell Reigen this was what he deserved, and… well, Reigen would agree. Another scar, a mark and reminder, of his lies and deceits.

A reminder not to go back to his old ways and that he needed to be a good person for Mob.

With that, Reigen had pushed any thoughts of that day to the back of his mind. If he noticed Mob staring at his forehead, searching for a scar and memory, he would say nothing.

Reigen would carry the reminder of his mistakes without another word.

Should he be concerned about the way he found relief and respite in the pain that strung through his scan when he pressed it? No, in the way that Reigen clawed and scratched at it. Grounding him with the reminder of his place in this world.

Reigen pulled his hand away from where it was digging into the scar on his forehead when he heard the office door jingle, letting it drop into his lap with a quiet sigh. Biting his lip, he wiped his clammy hands on his grey slacks before smoothing out his black turtleneck, which was more of an attempt to try to keep his hands busy.

Though he thought little about it when Mob stepped into the office with a small smile.

With a grin, he looked over Mob dressed in his new high school uniform—a black gakuran once more, but it suited him well and marked his next step in life.

Pride and warmth were a breath of fresh air that had him getting up to walk around his desk to reach down and ruffle Mob’s hair.

Mob preened, beaming up at Reigen with soft and ever tender eyes.

“I think this calls for a celebration, doesn’t it? How about some ramen? You can get extra chashu.”

Things would go back to normal, or as normal as they could be, with Reigen being this broke and wretched thing. 

But he desperately hoped and wished the future would be bright from here on out.

Though when Reigen reflected on it, he realized he had made a mistake by assuming Mob’s new strange behaviour—concerning and endearing—had resulted from the guilt that Mob carried from that day.

He saw Mob’s guilt as if it was painted across his face, the way his lips tensed, and eyes flickered to Reigen’s forehead. Always searching for a scar—a reminder and a gift—hidden beneath golden tufts.

Reigen could see it in how Mob would push to walk him home, practically falling over his own feet to open doors for him or guiding him with a hand to the small of his back, a startlingly new behaviour.

Though the smile that always brightened Mob’s face was worth it, Reigen decided, when he could restrain himself from flinching away from Mob’s touch. Drawing away from the memory of hands that promised pain and retribution, trying to remind himself that Mob’s touches only promised kindness and warmth.

But he wasn’t blind to how Mob had been using his recent growth spurt to his advantage to coax Reigen behind him, as if to shield him from whatever or whoever Mob had deemed a threat—it made Reigen think of a looming shadow that had blocked out the light.

He was concerned, and he knew he wasn’t the only one, not with how Serizawa’s troubled gaze flickered from Mob to Reigen presently. As well as with the way Dimple and Mob seemed at odds with each other more often than not.

The exasperated look that had taken residence on Dimple’s face was ever-present now. Something had changed since that day, with himself and with Mob. Reigen wasn’t sure what to make of it. He was trying since that day to truly work to move beyond his trauma for Mob.

Yet when he caught Mob looking over at him again from his desk, Reigen realized there was something wrong that he couldn’t put his finger on. He wondered if he should have said something to Mob or Dimple. Or if it would have been nothing more than an unwelcome reminder of the trauma from the past.

As a chair screeched, his eyes darted to Mob, then the clock. Confused, he watched Mob pack his bag with his phone held in a death grip.

“Mob?” he inquired in bemusement.

Reigen fiddled with the collar of his blue turtleneck before letting his hand drop into his lap where he smoothed out his black slacks, all while sending a concerned glance towards Dimple, who scowled and crossed his arms.

Mob sighed, looking up from his phone towards Reigen with an apologetic smile on his face. “I’m sorry, but… my parents have requested I come home."

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes. It’s just another disagreement. They’re not happy and would like me to return home to speak with them,” Mob mumbled, hiking his bag on his shoulder and tucking his chair in.

“Ah… another argument? That’s what… the fifth one this month, and it’s only the fifteenth? Is everything okay at home?” he probed, searching Mob’s face for answers.

Mob shared a look with Dimple, whose scowl deepened before he floated over to sit on Reigen’s desk without a word.

That was concerning, Reigen thought, glancing between Dimple and Mob in confusion. He sent an inquisitive look towards Mob, who rolled his eyes and made his way to the door.

“Everything will be fine. Please send me a text when you get home safely.”

“What? You know that I’m not your Shishou anymore. If anything, I think I should be the one saying that to you. I’m the adult here,” Reigen laughed at the exasperated expression on Mob’s face at his amusement.

“Reigen-shishou.”

“Ha, okay, okay. Geez, don’t nag me now,” Reigen muttered, feeling pangs of guilt when the door clicked shut behind Mob.

He hoped this new behaviour from Mob would ease whatever guilt he still carried from that day that was the result of Reigen’s failures and weakness. Until then, Reigen found he couldn’t help but humour Mob’s behaviour, shame a noose around his neck with the knowledge of the part he played in causing Mob’s guilt and trauma.

For making Mob hurt him that day—for forcing him to take Reigen apart and engrave this lesson in his bones with a hammer and chisel.

“Ah… has Mob always been this intense?” Reigen asked, peering over at Dimple, who gave him a blank stare.

“That’s what I’ve been saying! I’m telling you, the kid hit a growth spurt and suddenly thinks he’s the shit! The lead to a shounen-ai,” Dimple grumbled, eyes drifting to Mob’s desk and back to Reigen again.

“Don’t you mean shoujo?”

“Whatever, same thing. You get the point.”

Honestly, he really didn’t get it all things considered, nodding in confusion while tapping a finger against his desk.

“Its… a little concerning though, isn’t it? I feel like there’s always a disagreement or something going on with Mob and his parents now?” the lack of response had him glancing at Dimple with a frown.

“What?”

“Seriously. Is everything okay with him at home? This has been going on for almost a year now.”

What he really wanted to ask Dimple was how worried should Reigen be?

Flashes of his own family went through his mind and their picturesque exterior. But his childhood was anything but that. It had been a mess of bruises, fear, hurt, and trauma he still struggled to heal from.

He had met Mob’s parents and had a few dinners with them. They seemed kind, if not a bit hands-off, but nothing concerning ever presented itself to Reigen. Even so, he knew of the horrors that could lie behind closed doors.

All he could ever think about was his father’s disappointment, his mother’s disdain, and his sister’s gentle hands.

“Still… it’s a been awhile, hasn’t it? For a simple disagreement to last a year… Since just before his fifteenth birthday, I think?” he mused out loud, eyeing Dimple, who had paced in the air in front of his desk. “Mob’s been getting called home early often. He won’t tell me anything when I ask.”

“Ugh, seriously. You don’t want to hear about it. It’s a shitshow over there. I don’t think I’ve seen Ritsu’s face turn purple before.”

“What do you mean? Is everything okay?” the desire to call Mob and check-in bristled through him, his hand reaching for his phone before Reigen could think.

“Calm down,” Dimple cut him off, floating closer to Reigen. “Shigeo, tsk, that kid. You know how he gets when he sets his mind on something.”

“Ah… Is this teenage rebellion, then?” Reigen pondered, leaning back in his chair and pressing two fingers to his pursed lips.

Dimple let out a dry laugh, giving Reigen an amused look. “Well, I don’t know if you want to call it that. But it’s definitely a rebellion of sorts… More like a conquering, to be honest.”

“That’s kind of… concerning? What does that even mean?” he asked Dimple, who stared at him with an expression he hesitated to contemplate.

“Trust me, I told the kid Rome can’t be conquered in a day! Honestly, I told him to forget about Rome!” Dimple shouted, throwing his hands up while Reigen could only watch on as he fluttered about the office with increasing agitation.

“Uh, is he planning to start an uprising or something? Cause that would be a problem.”

“Don't I know it! I’ve been telling the kid he needs to grow-up. I’ve told Shigeo there are so many other choices over Rome! See the rest of the world! Rome is—would be—too much right now. Maybe when he’s older and more mature, you know? You have to start small, check out more modern cities first!”

“Uh-huh?” Reigen muttered, struggling to understand the context.

He couldn’t help but think back and ponder if Mob had mentioned any trips he or his family had planned to take soon. His attention went back to Dimple when his voice rose, frustration clear.

“I said to him, Shige-chan, you can’t just go around and just seize Rome! What if it doesn’t want to be seized? There’s a process to these things! I’m telling you, the kid isn’t thinking at all!” Dimple grumbled, crossing his arms again.

“Well, uhm… is everything okay at home then?”

“Ah, yeah, it’s fine. He’s just in the throes of puberty, for sure.”

“Uh… Hm, yeah… Ah, I don’t really get it, but okay? If you say everything is fine, I’ll take your word for it for now.”

Yet later that night when he returned home after texting Mob to inform him of his safe arrival, Reigen paused.

Chewing on his lip, he pondered for a moment, before shaking his head and sending Mob another text inquiring about any upcoming trips to Europe or Rome he had forgotten to mention. He couldn’t help but laugh at the confused response he received back from Mob.

Maybe he should take Dimple’s word and rest easy knowing nothing serious was wrong? 

Though, a week later found Reigen seriously wishing that Dimple was here while he watched Mob aggressively erase a mistake in his notebook. He wanted to ask Mob where Dimple was, but Reigen knew his question wouldn’t be welcome given the way the two had been butting heads that week.

Instead, he smoothed a hand over his white turtleneck, barely resisting the urge to wipe his clammy palms on his navy-blue slacks.

How was he supposed to go about this?

Letting out a sigh, he stood up and headed to the kitchenette. It was as he was watching the steam rise from the tea—trying to inhale the familiar scent of matcha to ground him—that Reigen considered his options.

This had gone on long enough, hadn’t it?

Taking a peek out of the kitchenette to where Mob let out another irritated huff and glared at his homework as if it had personally offended him, confirmed that.

Reigen had to ask or say something, he decided in concern, calling Mob over to the couches. He set the tea tray, a simple thing made of bamboo, on the coffee table, before smoothing out his turtleneck and taking a seat.

“Thank you for the tea,” Mob muttered, taking his teacup from the tray and sitting down across from Reigen before taking a sip.

“How is it?”

“It’s good,” was the flat response he got back. Maybe it would have been better to ask Mob another day, when his mood was better. Mob interrupted his musing, clearing his throat and catching his stare. “Reigen-shishou… you never drink coffee anymore."

That had Reigen choking on his tea, all while Mob’s voice drew closer. He couldn’t drink coffee again, let alone stand the scent of it.

It was depressing to know his favourite ground coffee, a brand Mob would go out of his way to purchase for Reigen, would stay in the cabinet unopened. Reigen used to enjoy so many other small things before he had been taken apart and rebuild.

He couldn’t restrain his flinch when a hand patted his back. It was Mob, Reigen knew it was.

Whose hands had once been small but now easily eclipsed Reigen’s waifish ones.

(The blood dripped from his mouth in tandem to the beat of his heart and the clicking of the clock.)

The ever-present guilt made itself at home in Reigen’s heart, acidic and remorseful, when he took in the wounded expression on Mob’s face when he recoiled. Sweet and gentle Mob, but who was no longer small and towered over Reigen now—who was always laying a large hand on Reigen’s back and elsewhere too frequently these days.

A concerning amount.

(The smell of vomit alongside the scent of something smoky, earthy and spicy lingered in the air while unforgiving hands broke him.)

Forcing himself to swallow the bile caught in his throat, Reigen morosely wished he had never made the tea in the first place. He should have never tried to bring up his concerns to Mob, not when Reigen could still taste, see, hear and smell it.

As if he wasn’t sitting next to Mob right now, but he was back in the office trapped within a nightmare.

(The taste and scent of coffee—vetiver, leather and cinnamon burned at his senses—but a yellow raincoat caught his eye.)

It was unfortunate he wouldn’t be able to enjoy coffee again; the smell and taste made bile want to claw its way up his throat. He wiped at his mouth with a napkin handed to him by Mob, giving him a smile that Reigen knew was brittle and fake.

(The glass was shattered on the floor mixed with blood.)

“Are you okay?”

“S-sorry about that, it was still a bit too hot for me still,” Reigen lied easily, glancing down at his cup and leaning away from the hand on his back. “Uhm, well… I decided all that caffeine probably wasn’t the best for me, you know?”

“…I’m glad you’re taking your health seriously, Shishou.”

Reigen thought back to pale skin, thin wrists and ribs standing starkly against his skin. Of pleading, concerned looks and full plates, never to be emptied. He chewed on his lip quietly, with Mob waiting patiently, already knowing there was something Reigen wanted to speak with him about.

Mob seemed to know Reigen better than himself nowadays.

No, Mob had always known Reigen better than the man knew himself. Mob, who had always seen Reigen for who he was—Shishou, a liar and a fraud. Mob could always see through him with dark eyes that peeled back the rotting skin covering his broken and brittle ribs.

To find the taint coating Reigen’s festering and rotting insides. Even though of Reigen was worried, he reused himself to linger on those thoughts.

“You know I’m here if you want to talk,” was what tumbled out of his mouth while he was reaching for his cup to take another sip.

Desperate to keep his hands busy, he glanced from Mob and back down to his tea. He felt Mob shift beside him before he saw large hands fiddling with the bottom of Mob’s uniform from the corner of his eye.

Reigen wondered if he had made a mistake, as the silence continued, and he cursed his nosiness for not leaving it to Dimple.

“My parents and Ritsu don’t agree with the decision I’ve made,” Mob stated after a few moments, staring down at his fists clenching the fabric of his uniform. “I told them I won’t be changing my mind—that I’ve made my decision—but… I don’t want them to be upset. I want them to see my side, and I don’t know how to make them understand.”

As Mob trailed off, he glanced at Reigen with dark and fathomless eyes filled with an emotion he was afraid to decipher. Watching Reigen shift uneasily while he pondered what decision Mob had made to upset both his parents, Ritsu and Dimple, to this extent.

“Well, sometimes you have to do what you think is best for yourself. Not everyone is going to agree with you and you’re not going to agree with everything others do—and that’s okay. As long as you’re not hurting anyone, it’s okay to be selfish sometimes,” Reigen felt like he was going in blind.

He really should have let Dimple handle this.

“So, it’s okay to… want something—that I shouldn’t want—as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone?” Mob questioned, words soft and just above a whisper, with a desperate longing in his eyes.

“Mhm, really, Mob. You couldn’t hurt a fly,” at that Mob sent him a deadpan look while Reigen let out a chuckle and ruffled his dark locks. Grinning at the indignant expression that flickered over Mob’s face. “Listen, I’m being serious. You’re one of the kindest and most selfless people I know. You deserve to be happy and it’s okay to chase after that happiness—whatever that is to you.”

Mob let out a hum, glancing away from Reigen and then fiddling with his hands, lost in thought. Reigen took his silence for what it was, a signal that this was the end of this conversation. With one last pat to Mob’s shoulder, Reigen got off the couch to focus on closing the office for the day.

It was the next day that Mob showed up unannounced, which had Reigen contemplating when Mob found the time to study or focus on his schoolwork. Sighing and fiddling with the sleeve of his red turtleneck, Reigen dropped his hands into his lap for a moment, resisting the urge to fidget with the stray threat on his black slacks or scratch at his scar anxiously.

“You know you don’t work here anymore, right? You should be focusing on your schoolwork, seriously. Mob, are you listening—” Reigen started to say, sending a concerned look towards Dimple, who had phased through the floor at Mob’s arrival.

“Where's Serizawa-san?” Mob cut Reigen off, striding around his desk to hover behind him.

“He went out to grab us dinner. Mob, you’re supposed to be at cram school.”

“I know. But… I wanted to tell you this in person,” where did this kid get this attitude from, Reigen though with a frown, feeling Mob shuffle closer to lean over his shoulder. Peering at Reigen’s hands, no longer pale and skeletal, flushed pink and warm with life, typing away at his laptop, before he felt warm breath tickling his ear. “Shishou, I won’t be able to come by for a while.”

“Ah—what—why not?” he muffled his yelp, just barely able to conceal his flinch while he leaned away from Mob—from the scent of jasmine, sandalwood and lilac that should have soothed him—glancing behind him to where he loomed over him.

(A memory flickered through his mind of a man looming over him, blocking out the light and casting a shadow over him.)

“—Shishou?”

“Hm?”

“Are you listening?”

(“Pay attention, babe. Or I’m gonna start thinking that you’re thinking about other men while you’re with me, hm?” Yamato demanded, thrusts speeding up and hands searing bruises into Reigen’s hips, waist and thighs.)

“Ah, uhm, sorry… I just remembered I needed to water the plants,” Reigen mumbled, grabbing his cup of tea to keep himself busy, eyes skittering away from Mob’s worried stare. “Sorry, you were saying?”

Who studied him for a moment, worry painted across his features before he settled back on his heels. “I’ve been grounded again until further notice.”

“Grounded, again? Really, that’s a first for you. What happened?”

“My parents are unhappy with the decision that I’ve made. I told them I won’t change my mind and that I’ve decided to chase my happiness,” Mob announced, peering down at Reigen with dark eyes filled with an emotion he couldn’t read.

A declaration, a voice whispered, making fear trickle down his spine.

It made him think of dark and leering eyes filled with hunger that crinkled in delight at each wail of pain clawing its way out of Reigen’s ragged throat. But Reigen also remembered kind dark eyes filled with kindness, love and want. It was an expression that Reigen refused to identify as he forced himself to refocus on Mob.

“I’m going to get my happiness,” Mob corrected after a moment.

“What did you do?”

“I've decided to be selfish for once,” Mob whispered, hands stuffed in his pant pockets while he gazed softly at Reigen.

Concern flooded him as his mind flashed back to the conversation from earlier and he wondered whether he should expect a phone call from angry parents or a visit from an enraged Ritsu?

His lips quirked briefly at whatever look passed over Reigen’s face, before Mob’s expression smoothed out.

Really, where did Mob get this cheekiness from?

“What?” he yelped, eyes tracking Mob, who made his way back to the door. “What do you mean?!”

“Have a goodnight, Reigen-shishou. Please be careful and text me when you get home,” Mob said, beginning to step out, only to pause and glance back at Reigen. “Please keep an eye out for my texts and calls while I’m away. I hope to return to you shortly.”

Reigen could only gape at the door in confusion and apprehension when Mob left without another word.

Chapter Text

The room was barren with only the sounds of Reigen’s shuddering breaths breaking the silence; he was frozen with his back pressed against his desk and a heavy weight on top of him—promising pain and suffering.

There was some type of scent—smoky, earthy and a tad spicy—filling the air and coating his lungs.

Reigen tried to push and fight against the weight bearing down on him. It was a losing battle he was fighting as hands left a trail of pain behind everywhere they touched.

Buttons clattered to the ground, another instrument to the orchestra of Reigen’s wails and fear. He couldn’t do this again.

Unwanted hands reached for his belt, tearing it off while he scrambled to stop them and find freedom from the pain.

Not again, please anything but this, Reigen thought, shrieking when teeth broke the flesh upon his neck. Blood soaked his throat, tripping onto the desk below him and staining his skin.

Was he being eaten alive?

Did it matter what was happening when Reigen’s attempts to free himself did nothing?

Why was it always Reigen that had to suffer?

He shuddered when his pants were tugged down and off. Leaving his skin bare to hungry eyes and the hands that gripped them harshly now, leaving bruises in their wake.

Reigen was dying, and it was all his fault for being so weak and disgusting. He was a bad person; why couldn’t he change? Hadn’t Reigen promised to change and be a good person?

If not for himself, then for Mob.

“Mob? Babe, you’re hurting my feelings by calling out another man’s name. I don’t think he’ll want you after this though,” a man crooned, familiar in the worst of ways while his hands tightened around Reigen’s slim hips. “Hah, I think that it’s a little too late for your hero to rescue you. But keep calling for him. I can’t say that I dislike it.”

─────────

Reigen tumbled from his bed, blankets caught between his legs and scrambling for the garbage can that had become an ever-present fixture next to his bedside. Sweat coated his body, making his black t-shirt and sweats cling to him while he heaved into the garbage can.

The acidic scent of bile filled the air while his eyes pricked with tears, and he shuddered until the vomiting subsided.

Exhaustion weighed on Reigen, who wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sagged against his nightstand. The nightmares had become a regular start to Reigen’s day since Yamato. It mattered little what he did or tried.

They refused to leave him.

For a moment, Reigen debated going back to bed, before forgoing that idea, knowing that nightmares would only wake him up again. Similarly, the thought of taking a walk to soothe his mind was shot down just as quickly when he caught sight of the time from the clock on his nightstand.

It was too early still; the sun was yet to be seen, and the streets were no longer safe, even with the help of the moonlight and streetlights. Who knew what lurked around every corner?

Instead, he stood to his feet with a grunt, shuffling over to the bathroom with the worn floorboards creaking with every step. Until Reigen was in the bathroom, carefully avoiding his reflection and opening the cabinet below the sink to eye his collection of prescriptions.

His gaze skittered away from the assortment of pamphlets stuffed in the bottom of the drawer and he reached for his morning prescriptions. Reigen knew what every singly pamphlet was, he had read them back to front too many times to count.

What is depression?

Do you have an eating disorder?

Have you been sexually assaulted?

The smile on his face had been as fake as the one that left Reigen’s lips when his doctor had gently given him each pamphlet with a kind smile.

Shaking his head, eyes clenching shut to push his racing thoughts back, Reigen unscrewed the first bottle, before blinking down to count out the first pill to start his day. Until all of them had been swallowed back dry and he made the mistake of catching his reflection in the mirror.

“Ah… I… I’ll need extra time to cover this, huh?” Reigen whispered, leaning closer to study the dark circles under his eyes.

Concealer had become a constant in his life, he reflected, stare skittering away and off to the side while he tugged his clothes off to hop in the shower to start his morning routine.

He would have to thank his sister properly one day for teaching him how to apply it, Reigen told himself before he left his apartment to head off to the office for the day—scar hidden beneath a dark green turtleneck and grey slacks—while he wondered what awaited him today.

It was just as his last client for the day left that Reigen’s phone rang; the sound echoing through the empty office. A quick glance at the screen informed him it was Mob, making a smile tug at his lips when he flipped it open, tucking it between his ear and shoulder.

“Hey, Mob. What’s up?”

He was splitting his attention between Mob and the response he was writing to an email sent by his mother. Her words were acidic and filled with demands for Reigen to settle down already—to give up on this pathetic business.

Would his response to her come off crueller than intended?

“Hello, Reigen-shishou,” Mob greeted, voice deeper and cracking just at the end. “How have you been?”

Though hearing Mob’s voice now made Reigen realize it had been some time since the last they had seen each other.

“Oh, you know, same as always. Though, we did get an interesting client in today, who—”

It made him nostalgic. Time seemed to slip between Reigen’s fingers like water. It was fruitless for him to try to capture it or keep it from escaping him.

When Mob hummed softly in agreement to whatever Reigen had just said, it had him pausing in thought. Mob hadn’t really spoken at all, had he? Other than to hum in agreement to whatever Reigen was chattering about.

“Hm… I know you didn’t call me so I could listen to myself talk.”

“I just wanted to hear your voice,” Mob finally answered after a moment.

“Hmph, it’s only been three weeks since you’ve been gone. I think you’ll survive,” was all Reigen could say, a part of him pondering how worried he should be.

Was this the time to confront the elephant in the room—Mob’s guilt and Reigen’s regrets?

Because no matter how much time Reigen spent thinking about it, he couldn’t find any other way to explain Mob’s newfound clinginess, dependency, and worry over Reigen.

This was Reigen’s fault, wasn’t it?

He was the reason Mob struggled to let go of the guilt over what happened on that day when Reigen had run through hell for him. Sometimes he would catch Mob staring at Reigen thoughtfully, eyes drifting to his scar hidden beneath his hair, face falling in guilt seconds later. Would it be better if he were to call Mob out now and finally put an end to this all, freeing Mob from his guilt?

Instead, Reigen did nothing, choosing to soothe his own remorse by giving Mob this allowance and letting him take what he needed from Reigen. It was what he deserved after all he had put Mob through.

“Shishou?”

“Ah, sorry, I just got a little distracted closing up for the day. How have your classes been?”

“They’re okay. I’m headed to cram school right now.”

“Oh, that’s—,” Reigen started to say before a knock at the office door interrupted him and opened seconds later to reveal Serizawa with a dark plastic bag clutched in his hand. It was familiar and took him a second to recognize the label on the side. “Serizawa, is that what I think it is?”

“Ah yes! I was able to grab the last red velvet cake they had just before they closed,” Serizawa replied with a small grin, setting the bag on the coffee table before removing the box hidden inside.

Reigen squinted at the box when Serizawa opened it, holding it out for him to see where he was seated at his desk. His heart warmed with one glance at the contents inside the box, bringing a smile to his face.

“You didn’t have to do that. I know you don't like red velvet…”

Serizawa flushed, setting the box down on the table before pulling a notebook from the pocket of his pants. “I don’t mind. I’m not particularly picky and well, it seemed like you enjoyed it the last time we had it.”

Sometimes it still started Reigen to remember someone as kind as Serizawa was a part of claw, following Suzuki’s orders without question. The progress Serizawa had made was evident in the newfound confidence he carried himself with.

It almost made Reigen a bit jealous, if he were to admit it. He couldn’t have been happier for Serizawa. Though a part of him wondered if he should ask Serizawa what changes he had made to look so at peace.

The difference was like night and day, Reigen reflected, watching Serizawa fidget with the notebook.

Reigen’s heart welled with affection as he focused on the notebook in Serizawa’s hands, one he rarely was seen without. Serizawa filled it with information from their cases to Reigen’s favourite foods and other endearing information. Reigen knew if he took a glance at it, he would find the same things noted for Tome and the others.

Who Serizawa was taking after by encouraging Reigen to eat, sneaking food onto his plate or doing other things, like stumbling in with desserts. Reigen knew Mob and Dimple had Serizawa joining their crusade to ensure he ate, slept and didn’t fall apart again.

Well, now that he thought about it more, it truly was no surprise someone as naive as Serizawa was so easily manipulated by the sweet and poisonous words of Suzuki. A master of deceit, and Reigen reflecting, wondering what Suzuki saw in the mirror.

Did the guilt threaten to swallow him whole as well?

Reigen knew what powers words could hold, disguised behind a pretty face and sweet lips. He was pulled out of his musing at the sound of Serizawa’s voice.

“…I also bought some other pastries to try if you’d like.”

“That would be great. Ah, let me help you get the plates.”

“It’s really no problem, Reigen-san. You’re speaking with Shigeo-kun, right? I can get the tea and plates.”

With one last smile, Serizawa disappeared in the direction of the kitchenette. But the reminder of Mob had Reigen refocusing on his phone, listening carefully to the sounds from Mob’s end.

All he could hear was the sound of traffic and voices trickling through.

“…Mob, are you still there?” he hesitantly asked.

“Yes,” Mob answered coolly after a moment.

"Ah, sorry about that. Serizawa just brought these pastries from a bakery we found recently, and—”

“Do you and Serizawa-san get desserts together often?”

Reigen could barely stop himself from admonishing Mob, words silenced before they could leave his lips. As much as he wanted to ask Mob where this attitude and neediness was coming from, Reigen knew the cause for it, didn’t he?

After all, it was Reigen who had chained Mob at his side as the anchor, weighed down by guilt and trauma, that would keep him from sinking into the abyss. He was the one relying on Mob to be his saviour and reason to live, the one who could pull Reigen out from the depths.

“Reigen-shishou.”

He should his head, clearing his throat and refocusing on Mob again, rather than his meandering thoughts.

“Oh, sorry, I just got distracted—”

“By Serizawa-san.”

“What—no—sorry… it’s just been a busy day. I don’t know where my head's been at,” was all Reigen could utter lamely, struggling to grasp where the conversation had gone wrong.

Reigen’s trauma trapped him for so long that he could never truly be present; he remained trapped in the past, like a bird whose wings were clipped.

What was he missing here, Reigen mulled with a sigh, fidgeting with the sleeve of his turtleneck.

Was this the teenage rebellion Dimple had been talking about? Though that didn’t seem correctly correct either since Mob had been acting strange well before that, or had he?

It wasn’t as if Reigen could be sure anymore.

Mob hummed softly, though Reigen waited for a moment for him to speak further or say anything at all. The lack of response, however, made him desperately and unconsciously try to appease Mob.

Don’t be mad at me.

Please don’t leave.

Forgive me.

“We don’t—I mean—Serizawa and I don’t do this often. Usually, Tome-chan is here and well… you would be here as well. It’s just nice to wind down after a long day at the office, you know?”

This was all a sad attempt to absolve Reigen of his guilt and make Mob stay.

Mob’s guilt resulted from Reigen’s failures. A fire he had created from wood cut and soaked in the oil bleeding from his heart, lit up by a match thrown by Reigen’s own hand. It was almost an innate impulse in him now, to attempt to rectify whatever hurt he had caused Mob.

He was always ready to give whatever was needed to Mob. Reigen was ready to debase himself again for Mob, and if it meant letting him overstep some boundaries, then he would allow it.

Mob let out a quiet sigh, almost unheard over the sound of cars honking in the background on his end. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just… lost in thought. Uhm, I’m glad you and Serizawa-san are taking time to relax. I’m happy you’ve been eating as well. Shishou really has a sweet tooth.”

“Heh, is my little disciple worried Serizawa will take his spot as the top employee?” was what spewed from his mouth and had Reigen internally cringing.

Maybe a part of Mob’s behaviour was not only because of guilt, but also the result of Mob being apprehensive about Reigen being stolen away?

No one could steal Reigen, because his life belonged to Mob.

Not when he owed Mob the world and more, from the stars, sun and to the moon—the entire galaxy.

This had to be like when a parent gets a new partner, Reigen deliberated with a frown. Almost like a cry for attention, if Reigen thought on it harder. But for whatever reason, that didn’t seem right either and it only made uneasiness settle like decay in his gut.

“I don’t work there anymore,” Mob laughs, and he feels his anxiety easing already at the sound of his laughter.

“Uh huh, you could have totally fooled me with the way you were always coming around. Tell me, Serizawa’s been insisting on walking me home lately… You wouldn’t happen to know why, would you?”

“No, I can’t say I do.”

This brat, Reigen thought fondly, before sighing softly. “You should focus on school, and less on little old me. I can take care of myself.”

“Someone has to look after you while I’m away.”

It was almost comical how Mob was acting as if Reigen was a wife waiting for her husband to return from the war.

“Focus on school. I don’t want to be the reason your grades get messed up. It’s an important time for you right now. Your grades now will determine your future choices.”

“You could never ruin anything,” Mob said, completely ignoring Reigen’s concern.

Though Mob’s words were soaked in reverence, adoration and something else, Reigen refused to think more on. Yet he still paused to consider his next response.

How could he ease Mob’s protectiveness and guilt without encouraging it further?

Mob really was such a good kid.

How lucky was Reigen to have someone like him in his life? It made him cherish the trust and love Mob gave to him freely, that Reigen knew he didn’t deserve.

“Wow, what a charmer… Mob, go study. Stop using me to distract yourself from your exams.”

“I would rather help you at the office."

“I’m serious. I know it’s not your favourite subject, but your math exam is tomorrow, right? I promise we’ll talk after, okay?”

“Of course,” was the sullen response from Mob that had Reigen chuckling fondly.

“Have fun at cram school.”

“I will,” Mob grumbled. “Please text me when you get home safely.”

“Yeah, yeah. How can I forget? Now get to cram school.”

“Goodbye, Reigen-shishou.”

“Bye, Mob.”

With a soft smile, he set his phone aside and redirected his attention back to his laptop, before glancing over at the clock. Even though Mob being awake made the days dull, making Reigen yearn for Mob’s warmth and protection, it gave him a bit of hope.

Maybe distance would help with Mob’s behaviour?

Even if Mob was a shield against the memories of hands against Reigen’s flesh, exuding a calmness he would seek unconsciously, it would be for the better if Mob were to stop with his hovering and all that came with it.

It was a foolish thought, Reigen knew it was, because how could one extinguish a raging and uncontrollable inferno with nothing but a glass of water? 

In the end, the month had flown by, and the streets were now covered in snow. The days dragged on, always dreary, grey and blending together.

Without Mob coming by to the office it was really lonely, Reigen mulled, watching the snow flutter outside the window while fiddling with the collar of his orange turtleneck, before he sighed and wiped his palms on his grey slacks.

A glance towards the clock informed him it was almost time for Serizawa to leave for his night class.

Unbidden, he wondered if Mob was attending cram school as he said he would.

The calls from Mob had remained a daily occurrence, his protectiveness not easing and Reigen was partially—well, mostly—to blame. Though, could anyone blame Reigen, when he worried that raising his concerns up would negatively affect Mob’s exams?

Reigen didn’t want to face the ensuing argument or bear the weight of Mob’s resentment. He would be crushed under it alongside his guilt.

Serizawa—bergamot, muguet and clove, all familiar and pulling him back to the present—interrupted his thoughts when he entered his line of sight, standing a distance away and watching the gusts of snow through the frosted window beside him.

“I’ll be heading out now. Is there anything else you needed me to do?”

“No, I think I have it from here. It’s a pretty slow day today, so I might close early,” he said with a small smile.

With nod Serizawa returned to his desk to gather his belongings, glancing at Reigen through with concern and pausing at the door for just a moment, before leaving with a quiet goodbye.

Reigen knew everyone was worried about him and had picked up something was wrong. Everyone bit their tongues to keep from asking him what happened, choosing to wait for him to shatter again.

This was the new normal, or well, it was always normal to Serizawa, wasn’t it?

He didn’t know the Reigen the others met and knew before Yamato. Despite that, Serizawa could still pick up something was wrong.

How pathetic was Reigen?

It would never cease being humiliating to be viewed as some waifish and weak thing to protect by children, no less. What kind of adult was Reigen to need protection from them when he was supposed to be protecting them and—

(So many simple moments in time—

“Reigen-san, please have some more takoyaki! You’ve barely eaten today,” Teru cajoled with a smile, despite the furrow in his brows.

Again—

“Reigen-san, you don’t look like you’ve been sleeping. Please have some consideration for Nii-san. You’re going to worry him,” Ritsu muttered, studying the dark and heavy bags under Reigen’s brow with concern awash on his face.

And—

“Reigen-san, why don’t you sit down while I make us some tea?” Tome offered, coaxing his dazed and exhausted body to the couch.

Again—

“Reigen-shishou, you haven’t been taking care of yourself again. Please be mindful of your health,” Mob fretted with an ever-present hand guiding Reigen to his apartment door after another late night. One that had ended with Mob pushing to walk Reigen home. “Whatever is wrong—whatever has been wrong—you can talk to me.”)

They all wanted to know what had happened, and the reason Reigen was like this. He was grateful that, unlike Mob and Dimple, the others stuck to hovering and coddling him—walking a thin line between concern and becoming overbearing.

A line Mob and Dimple had no qualms about crossing.

The sound of the office door opening had him tensing, breath ensnared in his lungs and jaw clenched. But just as suddenly, it was drained from him at the familiar face greeting him.

“Teru-kun! I wasn’t expecting you. If you’re looking for Mob, he’s not here today.”

“Ah, hello Reigen-san. My apologies, I forgot to knock. I didn’t mean to startle you. Actually, I’m here at the request of Shigeo-kun,” Teru explained, shrugging his black coat and yellow scarf off to set them on the couch alongside his schoolbag. He smoothed out the wrinkles in his grey gakuran uniform with a light smile. “He asked me to help out while he and Serizawa-san are away. It looks like I got here at the perfect time too since I just ran into Serizawa-san on my way up.”

“Ha… Mob… that kid. I told him not to worry. He needs to focus on his exams,” Reigen grumbled in exasperation. “He’s never focusing on what he should be.”

“Well… when it comes to Reigen-san, Shigeo-kun has always been focused.”

Reigen could barely stop himself from rolling his eyes, because that was the problem he had been struggling with, wasn’t it?

He was trying to understand and reign in Mob’s ongoing behaviour while assuaging his guilt. He really didn’t want Mob’s grades to suffer because of him. There had been too many expectations put on Mob’s shoulders from a young age and Reigen wanted to keep from adding more onto them.

“That’s not as reassuring as you think it is,” he muttered, unable to stop himself from rolling his eyes this time with the grin Teru sent him. Mob’s obsession with Reigen was common knowledge, he was his shadow at this point. With a sigh, he stood to head to the coatrack to grab his black jacket while smiling at Teru. “Well, I was going to close early anyway, but if you want, we can grab some ramen? My treat.” 

It happened while they were walking back from the ramen shop, and Reigen was advising Teru about the best sales on produce for the upcoming weekend, when whistling cut through the air.

Making both of their heads swivel toward the sound across the street, despite Reigen already knowing what it was, his stomach clenched alongside the dread bubbling within it.

This was Reigen’s fault for staying out so late when he knew nowhere was safe, he thought with a trembling breath. He shouldn’t have kept Teru out so late on a school night, even if he towered over Reigen now and was more than capable of holding his own.

But it wasn’t about Teru not being able to fight, it was about him moving to harm the man who had whistled at Reigen. His hand snapped up to grab Teru’s shoulder, keeping him from reaching the man, instead forcing him to glance down at Reigen with wide and angry eyes.

“Ignore him. He’s just a drunk,” he whispered to Teru.

The look Teru sent him wasn’t one Reigen wanted to decipher, he decided, gently nudging Teru with a hand on his shoulder towards the direction of their apartments.

“Snooty bitch! Think—hic—you’re too good for me?” the man slurred after them.

Shit, what the hell had he been thinking when he took Teru to this ramen spot? It wasn’t worth it despite how cheap and delicious the food was, not when it meant entering such a sketchy area at this time of night.

He grabbed Teru’s arm with both hands, just barely stopping him from darting towards the drunkard who was loitering outside the bar he must have been kicked out of.

“Teru-kun, stop!” Reigen yelped.

His shout caught the attention of the drunkard, who sent a leer in Reigen’s direction before paling when his mind finally took in Teru’s anger.

“Reigen-san, he—”

“Violence isn’t the answer!” his words weren’t ones Teru looked like he believed. Not that Reigen expected him to, but a glance toward the drunkard to find him gone, had a relieved sigh leaving him as he released Teru. “Let’s go. It’s late, and it’s a school night. I’m sorry for keeping you out so late—”

“Does that happen often?”

“Yes—no—I mean… sometimes, I guess? It doesn’t matter,” he rambled, sighing in exasperation when Teru continued to push.

“Does Shigeo-kun know?”

“No? Why would Mob need to know about this? This isn’t anything new to me. It’s… Well, I guess it’s to be expected, you know?”

Reigen bumped his shoulder against Teru, silently encouraging him to start walking again. He really didn’t want to take his chances with the drunkard making a stupid decision to come back. Teru didn’t look like he would stop if he got his hands on the man.

“Expected?”

“Ah… Well, you know, I’m used to it. If you look different, people notice and well… sometimes it gives them an excuse to be unkind,” he reasoned lamely with a shrug.

He steadfastly ignored Teru’s heated stare burning into the side of his head. Reigen knew it wasn’t as simple as that. There was something about Reigen, rotten and wrong, that seemed to attract this attention.

(“Powers you didn’t use, because either you’re a fraud… or perhaps you wanted this to happen, hm? You seem like you’re the kinky type with a body and face like that.)

Shaking his head of that unbidden memory, he tried to focus on the sound of snow crunching beneath their feet, the only sound to be heard at the dead of night.

How awkward, Reigen mused, studying Teru from the corner of his eye.

Teru’s jaw was still clenched, eyes pinched and hands clenched at his sides. It was in rare moments like this that Reigen remembered what Mob had said about the first time he met Teru—of the hurt and anger Teru had inflicted upon Mob the day they first fought.

Reigen sometimes struggled to accept and understand the hostility Mob had experienced. Mob was gentle and kind, he would never hurt a fly. Yet, even if Mob wouldn’t, he still had the power to, didn’t he?

Powers that Teru also had at the tip of his fingers.

He unconsciously leaned away from Teru, gaze darting from his clenched fists to his face. Body firing off warning bells and telling him to be leery of the angry man—no, just a child—that was at his side.

Who loomed over him and—

(It felt like he had ash in his lungs, trying to swallow past the lump in his throat as he stared up at the man looming over him and blocking out the light, casting a shadow over Reigen.)

His sudden movement caught Teru’s gaze and Reigen couldn’t help but flinch at the attention suddenly being focused on him. How pathetic was it he found himself afraid of a child, Reigen reflected, watching confusion, understanding and then guilt flicker over Teru’s face in a blink of an eye.

(Reigen glanced back at the man in question, who was close. Much too close. Forcing Reigen to take a step back, craning his head up to look at the man who was invading his space in more ways than one.

All he could smell was the earthy scent of vetiver, leather and cinnamon.)

Regret choked him when Teru’s shoulders slouched as he tried to make himself appear smaller and less threatening. Even so, Reigen couldn’t stop his eyes from straying down to Teru’s now unclenched fists.

Reigen’s mind and body were always waiting for violence to be inflicted on him once more, weren’t they?

For the other shoe to drop and the pain to cut through him like butter—for hands to take and break him down to a shadow of a man.

Try as Reigen might to focus on the present to remind himself it was Teru, who smelt of amber, apple and raspberry—sweet, familiar and soothing.

Teru’s brows furrowed, lips moving with words that Reigen couldn’t hear or understand. Not when he was reminding himself to breathe and remembered where he was.

But more importantly, who he was with.

There were no threats to be found when he was with Teru or the others. Reigen was safe with them.

That reminder still did nothing and Reigen came back to himself what could have been hours later. He wouldn’t have known either way. He blinked slowly, glancing around the park and down at the bench he was seated.

His eyes snapped to Teru when he sat down next to him a distance away, holding two cans in his hand and one that he held out to Reigen. He took it with a quiet thank you, glancing at it and taking note that it was matcha tea.

It was nice to warm his hands around as they sat in silence and watched the snow settle around them.

Ah… Reigen was so tired.

It was a bone deep exhaustion with roots going down into his very heart, an ever-present ache that had made itself at home within him. He was ashamed for having shown this weak side of himself to Teru again.

Next to Reigen, Teru slouched and fiddled with his can of tea. It was bad enough Reigen had troubled Mob with all of this, but to drag the others into this was embarrassing and made him red with shame; he probably looked pathetic to Teru, didn’t he?

Reigen was grateful Teru wasn’t the type to push like Dimple and Mob.

Who he feared would crack him open and peer into his chest, beyond his ribs, at the rotten and wilted flowers smothering his tattered heart.

He licked his lips, itching for a cigarette, craving the familiar taste and weight of it on his lips. Even after all these years, he still hungered for it.

Though, he still abstained for Mob. Reigen had stopped smoking years ago, since Mob had stepped into his office and life. He glanced over at Teru when he cleared his throat.

“You shouldn’t have to be used to it. It’s not right,” Teru carefully said, tapping the side of his can of tea with his fingers.

That wasn’t the response Reigen had expected.

That wasn’t the response Reigen had expected. Honestly, he wasn’t sure what he had hoped for or wanted. Maybe for Teru to tell Reigen he deserved everything that happened to him after his treatment of Mob and others?

“There aren’t many things in life that are fair, unfortunately,” he replied, taking Teru’s frown.

“Ha… Don’t I know it.”

He imagined Teru returning to an empty home, a child abandoned and cast out. There were too many times to count when Teru had sought Reigen’s help and advice about things no child should ever have to worry about, things a parent or guardian should have taught him.

“It’s like I said. It comes with the territory. I was always different growing up. I looked and… acted different,” Reigen said, opening his can and taking a sip, sighing at the soothing warmth on his tongue. “The only difference now is that I went from being picked on and bullied to… ah, being harassed for it—for different reasons. Heh… I must be doing something for this to keep happening to me.”

“Reigen-san, you can’t really believe that. You can’t blame yourself for the actions of others. It’s not your fault.”

“I wonder…”

Reigen didn’t need to look at Teru to know there would have been an aghast expression on his face. Though, worry struck him and had Reigen eyeing Teru closely. He was a child that had been on his own for so long and, unlike others, would know more clearly about all the dangers lurking in the city.

Or the safety of the office.

“I was picked on too when I was younger. For looking different—for being different—a parent-less child. But my powers gave me confidence and protection. Even if I did misuse them initially,” Teru chuckled, leaning back against the bench, sending Reigen a questioning look at the concern on his face.

“Ah… Has anyone—like this—uhm, has there been…”

He struggled to find the right words to say to Teru with the concern smothering him. Reigen needed to know whether he had failed Teru, too. That while his own trauma weighed on and distracted him, Reigen had failed to prevent Teru from suffering the same fate.

“No. If you’re asking what I think you’re asking, then no. My powers and the reputation kept me safe.”

He felt dizzy with relief, glancing at Teru, who looked so troubled. That relief was smothered at the sit of understanding beginning to dawn on Teru’s face seconds later.

“You should go home,” Reigen announced suddenly, jolting up shakily.

No, Teru couldn’t know or find out. Because if he did—if he knew Reigen was a disgusting and broken thing—then Mob would find out and leave again.

Mob would know that Reigen was a bad person.

“It’s late and a school night. You have exams coming up, right?” he babbled, throwing his empty can in the trashcan next to the bench before turning to glance at Teru at his silence. “I’ll walk you home. It’s late.”

Teru was still observing him silently with a look Reigen couldn’t read. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to, half afraid of what he might find.

“Even if Shigeo-kun hadn’t requested it, I would still make sure to see you home safely,” Teru finally said, exasperated fondness settling on his face when he stood up and joined Reigen after throwing his can away.

It took him a moment longer to take in what Teru had said, making Reigen huff and cross his arms with an eye roll. He was close to arguing with Teru and explaining he didn’t need to be coddled, thank you very much. Though, like Mob, Teru was prone to doing what he wanted if it meant keeping his precious people safe.

“Fine.”

Once they reached his apartment and Reigen was safe inside, peering up at Teru in thought at the front door, that he bit the bullet. He couldn’t be sure if Teru would share what happened tonight or his concerns with Mob, but Reigen couldn’t risk it.

If he asked Teru to keep silent over what happened, he would.

“Can you promise not to tell Mob about this?”

“Of course. Although I don’t think Shigeo-kun would be happy this was kept from him,"

The look Teru sends him had Reigen exhaling in frustration, crossing his arms and biting the inside of his cheek. It wasn’t as if he hid things from Mob for fun.

“I know.”

“Hm… Well, goodnight, then, Reigen-san,” Teru murmured, turning to make his way towards the stairwell, only to pause and peer back Reigen. “Please don’t forget to text Shigeo-kun you’ve arrived home safely. I’ve texted him on my end, but… Ah, I think it’s best he also hears it from you as well.”

Despite the way he scoffed at Teru and closed the front door, Reigen found find himself texting Mob moments later. Though he had told himself he wouldn’t indulge Mob, he knew that would.

He always did.

─────────

He was back in his office on his desk again, with only the moonlight shining through the windows to keep him company. He felt it before he saw it, a noose constricting his neck and suffocating him.

No, it wasn’t a noose. It was something smooth gliding against his skin, from his neck and down his arm to settle around his wrist.

A snake, he thought vacantly, watching it wrap itself around his wrist tightly, making him wince when his bones ground together.

It felt like his wrist would shatter.

Reigen yelped when the pain sharpened and reached for the snake to free himself with his other hand. But his eyes couldn’t catch its movement when it darted up towards him and it took a moment for his mind to grasp the pain now searing through his neck.

The snakes’ teeth were tearing in his throat while all Reigen could do was croak wetly and reach for his neck.

Yet he found his wrists bound together.

With a look down, he saw the reason when his gaze locked on a pink tie wrapped around his wrists. He had little energy to think past the sudden thought of Mob’s gift wrapped around his wrist, before the pain made him try to stop the pain in his neck.

Struggling to his feet and off the desk, he pulled at the snake with bound hands. The pain was breathtaking, whiting his vision and tearing a broken wail from Reigen.

But just as suddenly, he no longer felt smooth scales under his hands or teeth tearing into his neck—the smoky scent of leather and vetiver suffocated him.

Instead, he found himself pressed back against his desk by a dark mass that tore at his clothes. There were hands everywhere and lips brushing against the wound on his throat.

“W-what…” Reigen rasped blearily, flinching at the unwanted touches.

A man chuckled, voice husky and breath hot against Reigen’s throat. “Do you know why this is happening?”

Reigen shuddered when rough hands settled on his hips, pain resonating through his lower half with each thrust. Another stab to his already bleeding and rotting heart.

What was this man talking about?

“It’s because you’re a bad person.”

Oh, how could Reigen have forgotten?

He was drowning in his own blood, grief, and guilt while hands explored every inch of his body. Reigen couldn’t escape, no matter how much he jerked his head to the side when he felt the whisper of lips against his own.

This wasn’t what he wanted. Never and—

Yellow caught his eyes, and it took him a second to realize it was Mob’s raincoat. But the sunflower yellow was stained with the red of Reigen’s deceit and shame.

No, he didn’t want to look at Mob’s raincoat while this was happening to him—not when Reigen was being unraveled once more by Yamato. Pathetically, he clenched his eyes shut, whimpering when lips nipped at his ear before a hand grabbed his jaw.

“Open your fucking eyes and look at me when I’m talking to you,” Yamato snarled, breath warm against Reigen's face.

─────────

Reigen didn’t make it in time to throw up in the garbage can next to his bed, leaving his white shirt and blue sweats a mess.

All he could was lean to the side of his bed to retch onto the floor in the aftermath until his vomiting subsides. Leaving him to rub at his face minutes later that was drenched in tears while his body was soaked in a cold sweat.

He pressed the heels of his shaky palms against his eyes when the first sob tore past his lips. The smell of vomit permeated the air alongside the rain pattering against the window and his weeping filling his apartment.

The only relief he could find was that he had slept through the night, Reigen thought wistfully, sniffling and glancing at his clock with bleary eyes when his sobs petered off. It was a familiar routine of his now to stumble out of bed after a nightmare and to the bathroom, where Reigen would take his medication without question—his salvation and crutch.

His reflection staring back at him in the bathroom mirror presently brought him little joy. But the lack of dark circles under his eyes gave him with some relief.

Even if he wasn’t able to sleep a full eight hours, at least he had gotten some sleep, Reigen decided, throwing his pills back dry and starting his morning routine before heading to the office with a strange pit in his stomach that left him feeling sick.

When he heard a knock at the door, he had expected Teru or Tome, who were always so considerate of Reigen and made sure to knock to soothe his fears. It was difficult to admit something as simple as hearing the office door click made Reigen’s heart skip a beat, because he would find a monster at his doorstep, wouldn’t he?

A nightmare and monster that would never leave him.

But Ritsu wasn’t someone he expected to show up. Who was bundled up in a black jacket and black scarf over his black gakuran, schoolbag clutched in a death grip and a deep scowl on his face.

“Ritsu?”

“Well, are you going to let me in, or are you going to stand there with that look on your face?” was the surly response he received back. Reigen barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes as he stepped to the side to let Ritsu in. “I’m only here because Nii-san asked me to.”

“Of course,” Reigen said with amusement, barely keeping himself from rolling his eyes at having another person dragged into Mob’s crusade to keep Reigen safe in his absence. “If Mob was going to be like this, then he shouldn’t have gotten himself grounded again.”

“Don’t say that! Not when it’s your fault!” Ritsu sneered, giving Reigen a dirty look.

There were many things Reigen was to blame for, and he had accepted that, from ruining Mob all the way to guilt he had lived with for so long now. But his mind came up blank as to any reason he would have caused Mob’s most recent grounding.

“You can’t blame everything wrong in the world on me.”

“Just watch me.”

Reigen sighed in exasperation, stepping away to grab his black jacket from the coat rack, shrugging it on over his usual white turtleneck and grey slacks, feeling Ritsu’s eyes burning into his back. At least he could get this new case out of the way today, rather than tomorrow.

“Well, you’re just in time. Serizawa left, and we just got a new case. I was going to leave it for tomorrow,” he explained, checking his keys and wallet were in his pockets, before returning to the office door to grab his black jacket. Smirking when Ritsu flushed red at his next words. “Aren’t I so lucky to have Mob’s dutiful little brother here to help?”

The case ended up being farther than expected, leading to Reigen and Ritsu being crammed on the subway alongside waiting for their stop. He could almost hear Ritu’s teeth grinding together with every passenger that bumped into him.

At least it wasn’t too busy, Reigen mulled, breathing in Ritsu’s scent—lime, armoise and lilac, a floral scent he shared with Mob—while pressing further against the subway doors to keep himself from bumping into the man behind him.

His eyes drifted to poster stuck to the window. That would surely be taken down the moment workers noticed it. He focused on it again when they neared their stop, barely getting a word into it, something about a protest and a person named Nakamura Kado, before Reigen felt something brush against his lower back.

It had him flinching, a motion that regretfully didn’t go unnoticed by Ritsu standing in front of him with one hand holding the bar above them.

Ritsu, who had been watching the passing scenery outside, shifted his gaze to Reigen.

Reigen gave Ritsu what he hoped was a reassuring smile. It must have worked with how Ritsu glowered in response and refocused outside the window again. He shifted uncomfortably, wishing he could merge into the subway doors, and leaned away from the unwelcome touch, continuing to brush against him.

This couldn’t be happening to him, could it?

It had to be his fault, right? Reigen had to be doing something to make people do this to him.

Was this further punishment sent down by the universe who had decided Reigen hadn’t learnt his lesson?

Maybe he hadn’t repented enough, was that it?

His blood ran cold when a hand settled on his inner thigh, groping it for a moment before slowly sliding up until Reigen clenched his thighs shut in desperation.

A pathetic attempt to stop the wandering hand from reaching its goal, but he couldn’t figure out what to do. Perhaps the Reigen from long ago would have turned around and used a random defence move he knew, but the current Reigen could do nothing of the sort.

All he could do was clench his eyes shut and bite the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood—he wanted to leave. Reigen didn’t want to be here anymore.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Ritsu snarled.

There was a hand on his bicep, that had Reigen’s eyes snapping open, only realizing when Ritsu gently nudged him behind him it wasn’t a touch to fear. Ritsu had a death grip on the subway molester’s wrist, who struggled to break free out of his clutch.

“Fuck, let go!” the man yelped, making people around them start to take notice.

Shame made him want to cry. How had Reigen found himself in this situation that he needed Ritsu, a child and Mob’s little brother, to protect him?

“I asked you a question,” Ritsu growled, grip tightening.

It had the man wincing, curses overflowing from his lips when he failed again to free himself from Ritsu’s hold. A glance around and Reigen knew other passengers had taken noticed, eyes were on them, and people were whispering to one another. He flushed and tried to get Ritsu’s attention, tugging himself free when Ritsu seemed intent on the whimpering man in front of them.

“Reigen-san—”

“Don’t! Violence isn’t the answer here!”

“The hell it isn’t!”

“You’re going to break his arm!”

“Good! It’s the least he deserves—”

“Please,” Reigen pleaded, eyes darting from the crowd watching on and back to Ritsu. Who finally seemed to take in the situation around them. “Don’t hurt him.”

“How can you say that after what he did?”

“Mob wouldn’t want you to do this,” he murmured, watching Ritsu’s mouth opening and clicking shut. “We can have an inspector at the next platform take him, okay?”

Even though Ritsu looked like he would tell Reigen off, he scoffed, sneering down at the man, brows harshly furrow and a mean twist to his lips.

“Fine.” 

Another awkward situation, Reigen mused, gazing out of the subway window at the night sky as they made their way back after completing the case. Ritsu had rejected his offer to get ramen but still insisted on dropping Reigen back home safe and sound, or Nii-san’s sake, of course.

The subway door pressed into Reigen’s back, with Ritsu as a barrier between him and the surrounding crowd. Ritsu had placed himself in front of him when they got on the subway.

It was endearing how similar Mob and Ritsu were, he reflected, opening his mouth to tease Ritsu. Though Ritsu caught his stare with a grimace.

“Don’t,” Ritsu hissed, looking away with a flush slowly crawling up his neck to his face.

Truly, what were they feeding kids nowadays, Reigen wondered, taking in how Ritsu towered over him.

Like a shadow that had loomed over Reigen once, he realized distantly, fear trickling down his spine. It took him a moment to notice Ritsu’s attention back on him, with his brows furrowed and lips moving.

“Sorry, could you repeat that?” Reigen asked, watching Ritsu’s brow tick before he let out an irritated huff.

“I said, are you okay?”

“Oh, what’s this? Is Ritsu worried over little old me?”

“Can it, you fraud. I'm only asking because Nii-san would be upset if anything happened to you.”

“Of course, how silly of me for thinking that," he smiled at Ritsu’s concern, crooking a brow in amusement and trying to ignore the eyes searching his face for answers Reigen couldn’t give. “Well, you can happily report back to Mob that you got me home safe soon.”

Reigen knew that look, the one painted with the same brush on Mob’s, that had him preparing himself for whatever interrogation Ritsu would put him through—for Nii-san’s sake, of course.

“Why did you stop me?” Ritsu finally asked.

With a sigh, he shrugged. “You know Mob wouldn’t want you to do that.”

“Nii-san wouldn’t. But what would you want?” Ritsu inquired, gaze intense and watching his expression.

If Reigen thought about it, he couldn’t really say what he wanted. All he was trying to do right now was get through each day and survive to see the next.

All for Mob.

“Reigen-san?”

“Ah, sorry,” Reigen apologized again, glancing from Ritsu and off to the side, chewing his lip in thought. “I don’t know… I just think violence isn’t right and that you shouldn’t use your powers on others.”

“Then using my fists would have been fine?”

Affection welled in his heart at Ritsu’s anger on his behalf. Ritsu had funny ways of showing his concern, didn’t he?

“No. That’s still violence. You know that, right?”

Ritsu scoffed, muttering something under his breath before clearing his throat and speaking again after a moment.

“Does this happen often?”

“Does what happen?” Reigen played dumb, giving Ritsu a confused glance.

As unexpected as it was, he couldn’t be surprised that Ritsu was asking and pushing for answers. He almost wished Ritsu would go back to not caring and his indifference from long ago.

“Do people often touch you without consent?” Ritsu clarified further.

Ah, it sometimes felt as if the others didn’t care to be discreet and would push for answers when it was clear Reigen didn’t want to give them. Maybe Mob and Dimple’s tenacity was rubbing off on everyone else?

Though he was tired of always being questioned until Reigen would have to break himself open again to share his pain.

“Hm, who knows? Is that something you usually go around asking people?” he grumbled, lips tugging down into a scowl.

“Reigen-san.”

“Ritsu, be serious. Do you think this is a common occurrence for someone like me—a man?” Reigen snapped, infuriated and gaze heated.

“I think a lot of things can happen.”

Ritsu held his stare, neither backing down nor showing any signs of giving up. Even while Reigen felt sweat bead on the back of his neck and his scar throb, a distant ache that always reminded him of lessons that could never be forgotten.

Why wouldn't Ritsu leave this alone?

“Whatever,” Reigen snarled, head beginning to throb as he leaned back against the subway doors behind him.

With a sigh, Ritsu lowered his voice to just above a whisper. “It’s not okay, even you have to know that.”

“It’s fine! I don’t need someone—let alone a child—to lecture or protect me,” he was starting on a tangent before Ritsu cut him off.

“Hanazawa-san told me what happened,” the look of betrayal he sent Ritsu had him rushing to finish his sentence. “Nii-san doesn’t know.”

The relief was almost enough to make Reigen collapse to his knees and weep. Mob could never know how weak and pathetic Reigen truly was.

“You should cherish yourself more. It would upset Nii-san to see you like this,” Ritsu shifted, hand tightening around the above their head, while taking in Reigen’s glower with a thoughtful expression. “I won’t tell Nii-san. I don’t want him to worry about this when he should focus on his exams.”

Reigen nodded silently, giving up and allowing his gaze to skitter away from Ritsu’s searching looking. He couldn’t argue with that, not when Ritsu was right and Reigen wasn’t good for Mob.

Even so, he missed Mob dearly. 

Snow crunched with every step Reigen took on his walk back to the office, the icy wind biting at his face when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, flicking through his messages before landing on the last text he had received from Mob.

The last three months had gone by in a flash, the leaves changing colours and falling to wither beneath the snow. It really was unfortunate they hadn’t been able to see each other in the New Year, with Mob still being grounded.

He thought of all the apologies and promises made by Mob to make it up to him. The red was always blaring through his mind. What had Mob done to upset his parents to this extreme?

They seemed easy-going for the most part, giving Mob freedom that so many other children didn’t have. It had Reigen thinking back on his own childhood of bitter words and harsh punishments.

“—Shishou!”

At the familiar voice, Reigen turned, barely swallowing a yelp at the looming figure suddenly blocking his line of sight. He could barely keep himself from tearing out of the arms, wrapping themselves around his waist before Reigen recognized the familiar touch and scent.

Jasmine, sandalwood and lilac—safety, adoration and kindness—that surrounded him and had relief flowing through him, that tore the anxiety threatening to consume him.

“Mob!”

“I’m back,” Mob said with a grin and flushed face.

“I can see that,” he said with a smile, slowly pulling himself out of Mob’s hold before placing a hand on his broad shoulder over his black jacket covering his gakuran. A desperate bid to hold Mob there, to keep him from straying and yet to maintain distance. “Do your parents know you’re here? Hm, oh, where’s Dimple? Wasn’t he with you?”

“Yes, they do. I’m no longer grounded, and… Uhm, Dimple had other things to do.”

“Heh, I didn’t think Dimple had a life outside of trailing after you. But it looks like you’re finally free now. You must have been on your best behaviour, then?”

“Of course, I’m always on my best behaviour,” Mob laughed, laying a hand over Reigen’s on his shoulder, the other crinkling a bag with a logo that seemed familiar.

Reigen couldn’t hide his flinch.

That had him tugging his hand away and into his black jacket pocket. Hurt flashed over Mob’s face that smoothed away just as quickly into a blank expression and had Reigen’s own heart twisting in guilt.

How mortifying was it to associate Mob’s touches, always gentle and protective, with the touches of a looming figure—one who had made Reigen break and weep.

“Are you heading back to the office on your own?”

“Ah, yeah I am. Serizawa and I just finished with a case, but he left a bit before me to get to his class on time,” he explained, clenching his hands in his pockets and resuming his walk to the office.

Even without looking, Reigen knew Mob would follow him like a shadow, and he did. Mob fell into step next to him, speeding up and gently grasping Reigen’s bicep to nudge him to the other side.

“Reigen-shishou.”

The space furthest from the road, he realized in bemusement.

Mob was a barrier between Reigen and the road. He almost wanted to say that if anyone needed protection from vehicles, it would be Mob with his track record. But Reigen bit his tongue, swallowing the words that threatened to spill from his lips like blood. He wasn’t sure what to think and if he even had the right to bring this up to Mob.

Could he really question what Mob did to ease the guilt on his shoulders from a trauma Reigen was to blame for, he pondered, making his way up the stairwell to the office with Mob close behind.

Reigen took his jacket off, carefully setting it over the back of his chair while smoothing out his teal turtleneck and grey slacks before peering at Mob at the sound of plastic rustling moments later.

He couldn’t stop the smile lighting up his face when the brand stamped on the bag in Mob’s hand finally clicked in his head.

“Is that…?”

“Ah, yes. I, uhm, I asked Serizawa-san about the café,” Mob finished for him with a flush, jacket hung on the coat while he fiddled with a metal key hung around his necklace on a silver chain.

With a small smile, Mob reached into the bag to pull out a container that he opened and set on the coffee table. Revealing the treats inside to Reigen that had his mouth watering and heart warming tenderly.

“Oh… These are all my favourites. Mob, you didn’t have to do this,” Reigen murmured, eyeing the array of desserts.

All the desserts were his favourites and the ones he remembered Serizawa writing in his notebook.

“I did. I mean… I wanted to.”

“You don’t even like half of these flavours… Thank you,” he only got a quiet hum in response while Mob headed to the kitchenette.

They settled on the couches, plating their food with their tea steaming on the coffee table on the tray. If Mob settled beside him, shoulders, knees and thighs pressed to his, instead of his usual place across from him, Reigen said nothing.

It was easily explained with the knowledge Mob must have missed him in the same way Reigen had.

“Ah, by the way. Is everything okay at home now?” he inquired, crumbs sticking to his face and taking the napkin Mob handed him with a quiet thank you. “You must have really upset them for you to be grounded for so long.”

“Yes.”

“So… things with your parents have resolved then?” he probed further, watching Mob’s hands still and lowers his plate. Staring at Reigen intensely, until he felt as if he was being dissected by those dark eyes. “Mob?”

“Everything is fine now. I was able to express my feelings to my parents and Ritsu. They… they’re not—they don’t completely understand—but they’ve accepted my resolve and my feelings,” Mob explained, still watching Reigen with an unexplainable look.

For some reason, it only made him more aware of Mob and the warmth pressed against his side that had Reigen wanting to pull away.

He swallowed around the beginnings of apprehension sparking inside him. “Uhm… really? Well, I’m glad to hear that.”

“I’m glad too,” Mob said with a shrug, returning his attention to his own plate.

Just as quickly the dessert was done, and the office was closed for the day, ending with Mob who had once again cajoled Reigen into letting him walk him home.

“You really don’t need to do this. I’m serious! I’d feel better if I was the one walking you home. This is supposed to be the other way around, you know?” Reigen argued, eyeing the amused expression on Mob’s face.

“Of course, Shishou,” Mob nodded along to Reigen’s rant, hands shoved into his pockets as he stood at Reigen’s front door, watching him remove his jacket and shoes in silence.

“You can stay a bit if you want. Do you want tea or anything?”

“No, I think it’s best if I don’t. My parents are expecting me home.”

“You’ve been here before. I don’t bite, I promise,” he teased with a quirk of his brow.

“You should be more careful. Not everyone has pure intentions like you,” Mob sighed, shrugging his bag up higher on his shoulder and shaking the snow from his hair. “You never know who you could be inviting in.”

“What? I’m inviting you in. It’s not like I’m asking some random stranger off the street to come over for tea. You can be so strange sometimes.”

“Mm, maybe.”

“Well, then, will you be okay getting home?”

“Yes. Please keep an eye out for my text. I'll let you know when I get home safely,” Mob murmured, his warm gaze flickering over Reigen's face.

Reigen couldn’t understand what was so interesting about watching him all the time.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer.”

“Can I?”

“No! Mob, of course you can’t… Seriously, you were barely gone for three months. I’m not going to just disappear.”

“You could.”

“Mob?”

There was something odd about this all. Had something happened to Mob? Reigen blinked up at Mob in confusion, reaching up to lay a hand on Mob’s shoulder, broad and sturdy under his hold.

When had Mob gotten so big?

It seemed time continued to slip by Reigen in the blink of an eye.

“It’s nothing, uhm… Please make sure to get to sleep on time. I'll see you tomorrow,” Mob muttered, bringing his hands up slowly to reach for him and giving Reigen all the time in the world.

For the second time that day, Reigen found himself pulled into a hug. He almost surprised himself at the lack of fear cutting through him.

Fear that Reigen had become used to dwelling in his body and beneath his skin—nothing could ever wash it away, no matter how hard and long he scrubbed.

Fondness overwhelms the surprise when he realized how carefully Mob had treated him. Moving with slow and overt movements that Reigen could read, making his intent obvious. If he wanted to, Reigen could have stepped away or shrugged Mob’s touch off.

But he allowed Mob to find comfort where he could, bringing his own arms up to wrap around Mob’s neck with a quiet whisper.

“I’m serious. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here.”

“Promise me,” Mob whispered against Reigen's neck, tightening his hold.

How could he not promise Mob this?

Reigen’s repenting had always been about and for Mob, so why would he ever leave? He would always remain at Mob’s side, at least until his disciple chose to leave when he realized what a disgusting thing Reigen was.

He tightened his grip on Mob, the desire to draw him in burning through him. He wanted to keep this moment forever; to cradle it in his chest and keep it caged behind his ribs, a replacement for his broken heart.

That want to fall into the safety and protection that Mob offered to someone like Reigen was always there. He would stay so long as Mob would allow it. He had lived this long for him, and he would continue to force himself to continue to live for Mob’s happiness.

“I promise.”

─────────

The smell of coffee sat heavy in the air, coating his tongue like blood, as red as the one Reigen laid in now. He was back on his desk again, bleeding and weeping, while staring at the hulking mass above him.

He shuddering when hands left marks, pain and a gift on his body.

A strike to his face whipped his head to the side and left his ears ringing, dragging a pained whimper from Reigen.

Blinking past his tears and the darkness pulling at the edges of his vision, his eyes landed on a yellow blotch that slowly sharpened with each blink. With renewed horror, Reigen heaved and stared back, wide-eyed, at the familiar face greeting him.

No, not Mob.

He couldn’t be here.

There was no way Mob could know.

Not him, please.

A wail fell from Reigen’s lips, pain from his body and heart blurring together, finally crushing his already mutilated heart. He pushed and clawed at the figure above him desperately, turning his head when a hand slammed down next to it.

“Pay attention, babe. Or I’m gonna start thinking that you’re thinking about other men while you’re with me, hm?”

Until he blinked and realized he was facing Mob again. Who still sat at his desk in that yellow raincoat stained red with Reigen’s blood. Those dark eyes never left him.

Even if Reigen closed his eyes, he could still feel them on him.

“Shishou.”

No.

“Shishou.”

No, this couldn’t be real.

“Mob,” Reigen sobbed brokenly, staring into Mob's eyes to finally see the disgust sparking within them.

Mob looked at him with disappointment, lips curling and words accusing. “Shishou, you promised me."

─────────

Tears and bile stained his face when Reigen fell out of bed, stumbling into the wall in his desperation to reach the bathroom. Uncaring of the sweat making his grey t-shirt and pink shorts cling to his body while he struggled to hold the nausea back.

Then the sound of retching filled the bathroom alongside the sounds of his keens when he finally reached the bathroom and toilet.

There was no way Reigen could go back to sleep, even if he wanted to. Not when all he could see was Mob and the look on his face that blurred together with the leering one above him.

This would be what his days would be like for the rest of his life, wasn’t it? Continuing to battle and lose against memories from the past.

Reigen so desperately wanted to sleep—to find eternal rest and never wake up. He would go to a place where he didn’t have to worry about pain, hands, and a warm breath against his skin.

But he had promised himself to move forward and drag his rotting carcass through the days and nights that blended together like a nightmare for Mob, hadn’t he?

So, Reigen would continue to endure.

He would linger, living as a ghost and husk of what he once was, keeping this secret close to his chest. The shame would die with him one day, when Reigen took his last breath.

Until then, for Mob, he would live.

Chapter Text

He couldn’t believe he had to have this discussion with Mob, Reigen thought with a grimace, slanting a look towards Dimple. Who caught his eye, shaking his head and crossing his arms with a sigh as he settled on Mob’s desk.

A quick glance at Serizawa and Reigen could see him wringing his hands apprehensively, looking between Reigen and Mob.

Reigen bit back a sigh, fiddling with the collar of his blue turtleneck before dropping his hands to cling to the fabric of his beige slacks while he tried to calm himself down and swallow back his annoyance.

“I don’t understand,” Mob muttered, tugging at the bottom of his gakuran top before pressing his hands flat to the top of Reigen’s desk.

With an annoyed sigh, Reigen glanced down to his laptop and back up at Mob again with a frown. “What’s there to understand? You should go spend White Day with a girl you like.”

How had the conversation even devolved like this?

“There’s no girl I like,” Mob stated, making Reigen quirk a brow in confusion.

“Really? What about that Tsubomi girl?” Reigen asked, leaning back in his chair with two fingers pressed to his pursed lips. “Aren’t you two pretty close now?”

Mob huffed in irritation, and to Reigen’s eyes it seemed as if he could barely stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“I don’t see her like that anymore. We’re just friends.”

“Huh…” he mused out loud, half in confusion. All this time Reigen had thought Mob was still pursuing his crush. When had that changed? “Well, a handsome guy like you has to have some girls after him, right?”

“You think I’m handsome?” Mob preened, cheeks flushing a subtle pink.

“That’s not really the point,” Reigen said with a chuckle, and unlike Mob, he wasn’t able to stop himself from rolling his eyes with a sigh of affection. “Either way, I think you should spend it with someone else—a friend or something.”

“Okay, I will. I decided I want to spend it with you… What would be so bad about that?” Mob questioned, brows pinched, and lips pursed.

His gaze refused to leave Reigen, whose neck itched, right where the scar was, as if he was missing something here. Maybe this was another blame to place on Reigen for ignoring all the warning signs and continuing to enable Mob’s behaviour.

A pathetic attempt to soothe his own guilt and Mob’s.

Reigen clenched his hands in his lap, peering over to where Serizawa was making a quick escape for the door with the promise of returning with takoyaki. If only it was as simple for Reigen.

“What? You really can’t be asking me that,” Reigen muttered in confusion and partially worry. He wasn’t sure how to decipher the expression on Mob’s face, a strange type of yearning he couldn’t understand, that disappeared as quickly as it came. Maybe he was imagining it? Though Reigen cleared his throat, swallowing down nausea and the desire to snap at Mob—to tell him that their relationship was already strange without adding this on top. “It’s just not happening, okay?”

“Why?”

“You have to understand what this would look like to others,” he tried to explain, frowning at the deadpan look Mob sent him. “You really don’t see how others—your parents, Ritsu or your friends—would find it strange for you to hangout with your Shishou on White Day?”

“No.”

The way Mob said that with genuine confusion and naivety made Reigen want to tear his hair out.

Was Mob purposely being dense?

“Are you kidding me?” Reigen whispered under his breath, knowing that Mob had heard him with how his brow ticked. “Your parents wouldn’t be happy.”

“They already know and have no issue with it,” Mob declared with all the confidence in the world, unaware of the shock lighting up inside Reigen.

Should he expect enraged parents or Ritsu to come barging into the office with the police?

“Nope. No way.”

“Shishou.”

If he listened closely enough and maybe if Reigen paid more attention, he would have caught the tremor in Mob’s voice and hitch in his breath—the hurt and desperation on his face while he sought something Reigen didn’t understand.

“No, Mob,” Reigen snapped, pushing his chair back and standing to his feet.

Though, it was in moments like this he wished he still had a height advantage over Mob. Who stared down at him, brows pinched and Adam’s apple bobbing when he spoke.

“Why does it matter what others think?” Mob asked, dark eyes searching Reigen’s face for answers, palms pressing harder against his desk. “Weren’t you the one to say to live my life the way I wanted to?”

Not like this, Reigen thought, frustration beginning to win out as anxiety flickered through him.

Talking to Mob at times was almost like speaking to a brick wall.

Reigen huffed in agitation, crossing his arms protectively over his chest. “That was different—the situation isn’t the same.”

“Do you already have plans?” Mob pressed, breathless with a strange tinge to his voice.

Almost like a whisper of longing and adoration that Reigen couldn’t understand.

“And what if I do?”

He couldn’t remember if Mob had always been like this, pushing for information he shouldn’t have, and maybe he had been? Reigen couldn’t say for certain, not after Yamato have ravaged him and made the days blur today. Sometimes he couldn’t trust his memory.

“—who?”

“What?” he asked, focus returning to Mob.

Mob licked his lips, pressing them into a thin line as if to hide how they trembled. “Who do you have plans with?”

Reigen wasn’t sure where Mob picked up this attitude or the need to pick and pull at him until he sang for him—exposing all his truths and lies. “I don’t think that’s really any of your business, Mob.”

“It is,” Mob stated sincerely, lips twisting into something close to a pout, if not for the frantic look in his eyes.

“Oh my god,” Reigen grumbled, glancing from Mob to Dimple, who was still watching on with a grimace. “I’m not doing this with you right now.”

“But Shishou—”

“I said no.”

He stepped away from his desk, watching Mob slowly inch his way around it towards him with concern trickling onto his face. It felt like his patience was burning at both ends, the rope fraying and the walls starting to close in with each step Mob took.

Why wouldn’t he stop? Reigen said no, didn’t he? But even then, it didn’t matter what he had said, did it? Not when—

(The world tilted, his back and head slamming against his desk. The sound of his possessions clattering to the ground echoed through the office.)

“Mob,” he gasped, stumbling back as Mob neared him—a looming figure with broad shoulders that eclipsed the light.

(His head pounded, and vision blurred, struggling to see straight as everything spun and he blinked at the ceiling sluggishly.

Only for Yamato to block it out with a smirk on his face.)

Reigen blinked dazedly, watching Mob’s jaw tick and hands twitch at his side as if he wanted to… what?

(He brought his shaking hands up to block his face. A sad attempt to ward off any more strikes. Unbidden, he flinched when Yamato reached for him, sunlight flashing off a silver ring on his finger, and in desperation, Reigen kicked his leg out.)

He wasn’t sure, maybe Mob wanted to grab him or something similar? Or was that Reigen’s own fears taking over? He couldn’t say what expression he had on his face nor if his voice cracked, but either way it had Mob freezing in his steps, lips parting to speak.

“Shishou, you—”

(He tensed for a strike that never came, and it was only when hands began to pull at his clothing that Reigen’s mouth deemed itself to move again.

“W-what are you doing?” he yelped, mind and body finally catching up to his predicament. “No! Don’t—stop!”)

“Shigeo, drop it,” Dimple demanded suddenly, floating over to hover between Reigen and Mob. Reigen hated the relief passing through him for having Dimple step in, even when it was Mob of all people he was suddenly wanting to recoil away from. “I think it’s best that you head off to cram school. You weren’t doing so hot on that last test of yours, were you?”

“Dimple,” Mob replied tersely, eyes flickering from Dimple to where Reigen refused to meet his gaze.

“Enough. Mob, go.” Reigen cut in, throat dry while his eyes caught Mob’s hurt stare before focusing on a spot on the wall behind him.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Mob shuffling on the spot, mouth opening and clicking shut several times before he let out a shaky sigh.

Mob nodded slowly, guilt and hurt in his words. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

With that, Mob headed towards his desk to grab his school bag, throwing it over his shoulder before pausing when he made to head to the door, glancing back at Reigen when he spoke.

“Mob… Ah, just enjoy the rest of your weekend, okay? I’ll see you on Monday,” he called out to Mob softly, turning to fuss with a plant beside him nestled on the ledge of the window.

“…I will. Have a goodnight, Reigen-shishou,” Mob uttered quietly, just above a whisper as he opened the door and left with one last request. “Please text me when you get home safely.”

Reigen nodded, unable to trust himself to speak while the panic ate at his lungs while he tried to breathe through his anxiety before it turned into a full-fledged panic attack. When the door clicked shut, the breath he had been holding in escaped him and he sagged to the floor, bringing his knees up to his chest to hide his face against them.

For a moment, there were no sounds in the office other than his hitched breaths, the clicking of the clock and traffic outside. He could feel Dimple’s eyes burning into the side of his head, until several moments passed and Dimple finally cleared his throat, making Reigen peer up to look at him in exhaustion.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Reigen croaked, though to his ears the lie sounded flimsy.

“You know you don’t have to put up with Shigeo’s behaviour, right?” Dimple said, floating closer and studying Reigen’s face with mounting concern.

“I know it’s not okay. But this is, ah…” Reigen started to say, waving a hand in the air in an attempt to explain what exactly this even was. “His protectiveness and the guilt. It’s making him act out—”

Dimple’s face scrunched at his words. “Huh? Guilt?”

Reigen blinked at Dimple in confusion. “Yeah. It’s—it’s the guilt, isn’t it? You’ve seen how Mob’s been acting since that day.”

“Is that what you think this is?” Dimple questioned, staring at him in disbelief.

“Yes?”

“Ah… You really are too soft on him,” Dimple bemoaned, floating close to settle down beside Reigen on the floor. “It’s not guilt, you know that. He’s not a little kid anymore.”

“He is just a kid, though. He’s fifteen—no, sixteen—in almost two months,” Reigen snapped half-heartedly.

Dimple sighed in frustration, rolling his eyes and eyeing him in bemusement. “How long are you going to keep telling yourself that?”

He had nothing to say to that, not when Reigen didn’t understand what Dimple wanted him to say in the first place. Mob had been acting different since the day Reigen had run after him, bleeding and broken, to save him. Maybe it wasn’t the guilt, but he couldn’t make sense of what else it could be.

After all, what would make Mob so protective, to the point he would overstep boundaries and look at Reigen so strangely?

At Reigen’s silence, Dimple pursed his lip, glancing around the empty office and back to where Reigen shifted to huddle against the wall behind his desk, just under the window.

“Listen, I get it, he’s young and all, but… Shige-chan is growing up. I think he’d surprise you,” Dimple mused out loud, shifting and settling in against Reigen’s side. “He means well, but… You know how Shigeo gets when he sets his mind on something.”

“I do… Hmph, I think we’ve all seen that quite clearly.”

“No, not like this,” Dimple added on, sighing and floating up to Reigen’s eye level. “I don’t think you do know or realize it, but you need to be firm with him.”

“I know Mob means well. I just don’t know how to handle this… ah, new behaviour? This new Mob?”

Dimple laughed softly, grinning and crossing his arms. “Well, Shige-chan is going to change as he gets older, but he’s still immature, despite what he says. This is nothing compared to what happened with that girl. I think the kid is terrified by what he’s feeling, and he doesn’t want to upset you.”

Reigen bit the inside of his cheek, heart wringing itself out at the Dimple’s words. There was no doubt he had added onto Mob’s existing trauma. He wouldn’t be able to forget how Mob fretted over him and all the heated arguments that had occurred when Reigen had been at his lowest.

Unable to sleep or keep anything down, nor think clearly.

He knew Mob and the others were terrified, worrying whether Reigen would finally collapse one day, and they could do nothing to help him.

If only he had been a better person, then none of this word have happened. Mob wouldn’t be suffocated by his guilt and fear, and their relationship would be normal.

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to hurt him any more than I already have,” he whispered, raking a shaky hand through his hair.

Dimple patted his head gently, lips twisting into a sad frown. “I wish I had an easy fix for you, but the only thing you can do is be firm with him.”

“…I’m trying. Seriously! What am I supposed to do?”

“Try harder. I’m serious. You gotta nip this in the bud.”

“I am! This isn’t fair, Dimple… I don’t know what you want me to do,” Reigen bemoaned, head thumping against the wall when he leaned back. Mob was a loose cannon and did whatever he pleased. Was this just teenage rebellion or had Mob lost faith in Reigen completely? “Mob, just doesn’t seem to listen to me anymore… at least not when it matters.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Dimple grumbled, pulling his hand back when Reigen’s trembling started to ease. “The kid is… ah, obsessed with you. Everyone and their mother can see that.”

“I know.”

Reigen knew he played a large part in nurturing this obsession and protectiveness within Mob—he had planted the seed, watered and nurtured it until it bloomed into a garden with sharp vines that had wrapped themselves around Mob.

How could he free him?

Would proving to Mob that Reigen didn’t need his protection work? Or maybe it wouldn’t, because he had shown time and time again that he wasn’t able to take care of himself or be trusted to.

Dimple spoke again, dragging Reigen’s focus back to him. “I’ll talk to him, okay? But Shige-chan… you know how he gets. I’m not sure how much it’ll help.”

“Thank you,” Reigen murmured, unconsciously bringing a hand up to clutch at his neck over his turtleneck, digging his fingers until it ached. Dimple watched him with a frown, eyeing his hand as if he wanted to reach over and pull it away. “What a day, huh?”

“Yeah, there’s always something going on when Shige-chan is involved,” Dimple chuckled, a thoughtful expression settling on his face. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

“I know,” he whispered, the lie already on his lips, coating it like sludge that threatened to down him. He didn’t need to look at Dimple to see the disappointment on his face at his next words. “But I’m okay—really—I’m doing better.”

A glance at Dimple confirmed what Reigen already knew at the sight of his pursed lips and gaze studying Reigen, from his pale skin, dark circles hidden beneath foundation and the shudders still jolting through him.

“Is that so? You and I must have different ideas of what okay means.”

“Please, can we just drop it?” Reigen pleaded, pressing his face into his knees again and awaiting Dimple’s rebuttal.

When there was no response, he peered up at Dimple again, only to find him watching him with a look of sorrow on his face.

“Ah… Listen, whenever you are ready to talk, I’m here, okay?”

What did he look like to Dimple for him to drop the topic so easily, when at any other time he would be right next to Mob pestering and hovering over him?

“Thank you.”

Truly he was grateful to have Dimple, Mob and the others at his side. Even if they overstepped and pushed him too much sometimes, he was thankful they cared for him. With that, Reigen pushed himself up, one hand grabbing the ledge of the window to support himself when exhaustion threatened to drown him.

“You should take a nap,” Dimple said after he settled on Reigen’s head. “Seriously, you look like shit. When’s the last time you had a good night’s sleep?”

“Wow. Thanks for the compliment, Dimple.”

“Hmph, I’m being serious,” Dimple grumbled, words softening seconds later. “You look exhausted. Take a nap.”

Reigen bit his lip, peering over at the clock on the wall and then to the office door. It wasn’t as if he expected Yamato or anyone else to come barging in if he locked the door, but he was still scared of letting his guard down.

Even so, he was exhausted and world-weary, feeling as if he was a walking corpse and living in fear of what could happen to him next. The refutation was already on his lip just as Dimple cut him off.

“I’ll watch over you, I promise,” Dimple whispered from his place on Reigen’s head.

“Okay. But make sure you—”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll flip the sign to closed and Katsuya can take care of any clients when he gets back.”

In the end, he couldn’t find it in himself to reject Dimple’s offer, not with the worry soaked in his words and while exhaustion was winning this battle.

Though it wasn’t the best sleep he had, it was better than anything Reigen remembered as he felt safe with Dimple watching over him. 

Three weeks later found Reigen trudging his way through a forest under the night sky with Mob at his side after a late-night case. The stars twinkled above them, their only other companions, while they walked to the car parked on the road outside the forest minutes away.

Unbidden, nostalgia washed over him when he glanced over at Mob walking beside him, dressed in a black jacket over his black hoodie and blue jeans.

For a moment, Reigen regretted not bringing anything warmer to wear.

His white turtleneck and grey slacks covered by a beige coat—one that was too thin—didn’t do much to keep the cold out.

But this situation was like so many others they had been on, returning from one case or the other no matter what the time was. Years of memories flooded back to him—the humid summer heat clinging to them as they walked through town to the sound of cicadas, and the spring rain drumming on the bus shelter roof where they waited after missing their bus.

The leaves crunched under his black dress shoes and Mob’s white sneakers, like the snow had when they had finished up a case during winter, walking through streets decorated in Christmas decor and lights.

Though Reigen preferred the soft snow over the wet earth squelching with every step, they took now through the foliage and where the rental car awaited. The air was still chilly, with the beginning of summer showing its face as the spring weather faded and welcomed the humid heat.

Another glance at Mob, and Reigen couldn’t help the smile pulling at his lips.

Mob really had grown up, hadn’t he, Reigen mused.

He had slowly overtaken Reigen’s height all the more in the past year, shoulders broadening with the results from his workouts showing. In a few months, he would be towering over him further, wouldn’t he?

Then, eventually, Mob would move on one day.

Reigen would miss this and cherish the memories they made together—of all the late nights going out for dinner, the hours spent chatting together and the adventures they had gone on.

Was this what a parent felt watching their child grow to explore the world in awe, fear, and joy? To watch them discover themselves and overcome the very fears that threatened to set them back.

No, that didn’t seem right, did it?

He wasn’t Mob’s parent and nor had Reigen ever viewed himself as a guardian or anything of the sort for him. Mob was always his disciple, friend and a precious person, nothing more and nothing less. He knew Mob felt the same way and that he had never viewed Reigen as a parental figure either.

Still, their relationship was… strange. Reigen would be the first to admit it.

Inappropriate, a voice whispered in the back of his mind, making Reigen twitch at the feel of phantom hands and dark eyes watching him full of want.

The two of them were stuck in this strange impasse since they had stood amongst rubble, with Reigen’s blood soaking the ground.

What would Mob describe their relationship as, outside of being disciple and shishou?

It was clear as day that Mob cared for him.

But something had changed and Reigen couldn’t figure out what it was exactly, nor what string to tug at to unravel this situation they found themselves in. Though his thoughts cut off when Reigen tripped over a tree root, barely restraining a flinch or having time to stop his fall before Mob caught him by his bicep.

“Please be careful, Shishou,” Mob murmured, warm breath brushing the side of Reigen’s face when he leaned down to help him.

“Ah, sorry, you can’t really see the ground clearly under these leaves,” Reigen explained, quickly righting himself and trying to stop his breath from hitching as he slipped out of Mob’s hold.

Mob hummed in acknowledgement, pulling back and glancing towards the dark path before them and then looking back to Reigen. Who sniffled, shivering at the particularly cold gust of wind cutting him to the bone.

If he had known it would be this cold, he would have worn a warmer jacket, Reigen thought ruefully, shuddering as another chill passed through his body.

A heavy weight dropping on his shoulder interrupted Reigen’s thoughts, making him glance up at Mob. Only to find Mob already peering down at him, dark eyes tender and fond, filled with another emotion he couldn’t put his finger on as Mob readjusted his jacket over Reigen’s shoulders.

“Mob! W-what are you doing?” he sputtered, reaching up to tug off the black jacket off to return to Mob, who stood next to him in nothing but a plain black hoodie and jeans. “You’ll get sick!”

“It’s fine. The walk back isn’t much further.”

“Isn’t that much further?! That doesn’t matter, you’ll get sick!”

“I said it’s fine. It’s not that cold,” Mob grumbled, tugging his jacket back around Reigen, before placing a hand on his lower back, large and gentle. “Let’s just get back to the car.”

It made Reigen think of large hands that had painted bruises across his wrists when Mob gently nudged him forward. It was moments like this that Reigen found himself silent, unable and unsure what to say to Mob.

He couldn’t speak; his words were stuck, like a butterfly caught in a spider’s web. Mob seemed to be the same and yet, over the years, he had changed in some way Reigen couldn’t understand.

Mob was harder to read than ever now. A part of him knew it had been longer than that, since that day when Mob took his recompense from his body. Reigen couldn’t find the words to ask, nor did he want to open the door up to that subject—the true reason for Mob’s hovering, protectiveness and strange behaviour.

“Thank you,” he croaked, throat dry and eyes scurrying away from Mob’s stare.

So full of love and affection, it made Reigen want to vomit. He couldn’t understand why Mob cared for him as deeply as he did when Reigen was nothing but a fraud and con artist—a bad person.

He wished he could hide away and drown himself in the warmth of Mob’s jacket—the familiar scent of lilac, jasmine and sandalwood eased some of his anxiety.

“Heh, you’ve gotten so big. I’m practically swimming in this,” Reigen chuckled, rolling the sleeves up that covered his hands. “What are they feeding you kids nowadays? I swear.”

“I’m not a kid anymore. I’ll be 16 soon,” Mob preened, his hand warm against Reigen's lower back and gaze fixated on the path ahead of them.

“Pfft—Ha! Mob, that's the definition of being a child?” Reigen snickered, snorting at the pout settling on Mob's face.

“Shishou…” Mob huffed sullenly while Reigen grinned fondly.

Reigen was lucky to have been able to see Mob grow to become the person he was and see what he would do in the years to come.

“You’ve really grown, haven’t you?”

The words spilled unbidden from his lips, and he found himself just as surprised as Mob when he saw the look on his face. Too many emotions that Reigen refused to study or dissect.

What had he done to be looked at like that, like something precious and loved?

“Do you really think so?” Mob questioned, stepping over a tree root as they neared the car.

“Yes, I do.”

There was nothing else he was more certain about in his life. Mob smiled, humming under his breath, guiding him over to the driver’s side, opening the car door and beaming at the amused look Reigen gave him.

“I’m happy to hear you say that,” Mob murmured, watching him climb into the car, dark eyes drifting from Reigen’s face and to the jacket still hanging around his shoulders.

“Ah, your jacket,” Reigen jolted, hands going up to remove Mob’s jacket.

Only to be halted by Mob’s hands over his own. He wanted to flinch and pull away from the threatening warmth, but he swallowed the urge down.

“It’s fine. Please keep it on,” Mob whispered, looming over Reigen through the open car door.

His gaze never left Reigen, nor where the jacket sat on his trembling shoulders, a comforting shield and barrier. Reigen was wearing Mob’s jacket once more.

Unbidden, his mind flickered to a yellow raincoat and—

(His view of Mob’s desk was abruptly blocked off by Yamato’s arm when he slammed a hand down in front of Reigen’s face. Yamato leered down at him, blocking out the light and casting a shadow over his shattered form.

“This is karma, y’know? For all the bullshit you’ve done—the people you’ve used," Yamato murmured, peering down at him with wide eyes, gaze drifting from Reigen's face to his naked body. "Do you know why this is happening?”)

“—Ritsu thinks it’s better if I study for my science exam first and then focus on the others after,” a familiar voice murmured.

It felt like Reigen was underwater. He heard a muffled but familiar voice and latched onto it. Blinking rapidly and trying to get his stuttering breaths under control until the dark blob before him cleared up to reveal Mob.

His shoulders relaxed, the tension draining from him at the sight of Mob and his soothing voice that muffled Reigen’s fears—dragging him from a moment in time, a past he was trapped in where hands seared their marks on his body.

“Shishou?” Mob called out to him from where he was crouched down in front of Reigen, gazing up at him in concern, hands twisting at the hem of his hoodie. “Are you okay?”

Reigen felt his mouth open, the lies and deceit ready to tumble out, only to bite down on a sob. He was so tired of the fear, pain, and memories.

He just wanted to stop hurting.

“Shishou,” Mob said more urgently, hands twitching forward as if to reach for him, before they fell into his lap when Reigen spoke.

“I-I’m sorry,” he rasped.

Honestly, Reigen didn’t know what had caused him to suddenly break down in the middle of the woods in the dark of night, with only a streetlight above them to cast the darkness away.

Mob shook his head, worrying his lip. “You don’t have to apologize for anything. Please, just tell me how I can help.”

Reigen breathed in deeply, taking in the sounds of the branches rustling and Mob’s quiet breaths while he tried to collect himself. He knew Mob had realized what his answer was even before he looked at him again.

“I’m fine, Mob.”

The lie felt like poison on his tongue and the all too familiar guilt soaked into his bones like the chill in the air when Mob’s jaw ticked.

“Are we just going to keep pretending that everything is alright?”

“Mob—”

A quiet laugh escaped Mob, cracking and hitching, face closing off and expression smoothing out when that familiar mask slipped onto Reigen’s face. In the back of his mind, Reigen knew Mob’s concern had reached its threshold, overflowing until it could no longer be contained.

“Heh. Are we going to pretend you’re not acting strange—that you don’t eat properly?” Mob snapped, shakily standing to his feet and towering over Reigen. "That you haven’t been sleeping well for who knows how long!?”

“Listen—”

“Are we going to pretend—”

“Mob—” Reigen gasped, clutching at his chest with shaking hands, leaning back in his seat away from where Mob loomed over him with his hands fisted.

His heart hammered against his ribs, air leaving his lungs and gaze locked onto Mob, but just as suddenly his fear left him when Mob broke.

“—that you’re not afraid of me!” Mob breathlessly said, glassy eyed and voice cracking with emotion. Mob raked a hand through his hair, voice wobbling and full of desperation. “You’re scared of me, Shishou! And I don’t know why—oh… It’s… it’s my powers… They scare you—I scare you.”

Reigen should say something, anything to soothe Mob and tell him he wasn’t afraid of him. He could never be afraid of Mob, not when Reigen had no right to be after all the suffering had put Mob through.

Try as he might, Reigen couldn’t get his mouth to work.

All he could do was gasp wetly, swallowing down bile and guilt while taking Mob’s shattered expression.

He had done this to Mob.

“You’re afraid I’ll hurt you again,” Mob uttered softly, almost too quiet to be heard.

Mob was unravelling in front of him, Reigen mused distantly, watching the first tear escape those dark eyes.

His heart was breaking at the sight of Mob’s distress and for being the cause of it, making Reigen move before he realized it. Stumbling to his feet, making Mob stumble back, but Reigen was in his space once more, reaching up to cradle Mob’s tear-soaked cheeks in his trembling hands.

“Mob!” he wept, trying to fight back his own tears. “D-don’t ever say that! You could never hurt me.”

Reigen couldn’t be sure what expression he had, but it made Mob’s mouth click shut, gaze reverent and wistful when he brought his hands up over Reigen that were still cupping his face.

“Shishou,” Mob croaked, leaning down to press his forehead to Reigen’s. “Please… please, tell me what’s wrong. Let me help you.”

“Oh, Mob…”

His arms come up to wrap around Mob’s shoulders, tugging him close until he felt Mob’s arms wrap around his waist, holding onto him with the desperation of a starving man. Even with his attempt to hide his flinch by holding Mob closer, Reigen had failed with the sob tearing out of Mob.

He didn’t understand how Mob could stand to look at him, let alone touch him or breathe the same air as him when all Reigen did was hurt him.

“Shishou…” Mob sounded so resigned and hurt at his silence. Reigen could only clench his jaw to resist the urge to crumple into a heap and beg Mob to stay. “You’re killing me, you know that?”

“I’m sorry,” Reigen murmured remorsefully, fighting back his own tears.

There was nothing more he wanted to do than tell Mob all his truths, to cut himself open, to let him see the webs of Reigen’s trauma and suffering coating his insides.

Yet, he couldn’t.

Reigen wouldn’t weigh Mob down with his trauma, not when he already had leached off of him so much—too much—already. He needed to stop being selfish, Reigen told himself with a grimace, sniffling quietly as the silence grew.

Mob’s shoulders drooped, his arms tightening around Reigen for a moment before he pulled away. His eyes were half-lidded, glassy and red, filled with resignation and hurt.

How many arguments had they had now over this?

Too many, if he thought about it. Mob’s concern had only grown with time and every lie that Reigen spoke into existence.

If he closed his eyes and thought back on the past, of forgotten arguments and conversations, he could remember Mob’s pleads—his voice raised in concern, begging Reigen to let him help.

Reigen had ruined Mob by standing by while the guilt devoured him, which had led to this moment now, with Mob breaking down in front of him, tears and heartbreak endless.

Even now, he was still lying, wasn’t he?

Because a part of Reigen did fear Mob, though not his powers. Never that. The terror he felt was the result of threats his mind was making up when it came to Mob. Who was once so small, barely coming to his hips and was now taller than him.

Looming over Reigen, dark eyes watching him with an emotion he feared.

“I’m sorry,” Reigen rasped, biting his lip to swallow down a sob.

Without looking, he knew what Mob’s response would be to this familiar song and dance, but all he could do was look. Mob stepped back further, shoulders tense again and face flashing from hurt to resignation.

“I see,” Mob said, a bitter and hurt twist to his lips.

Reigen’s hands twitched with the urge to keep Mob from leaving, yet his hands stayed at his side while he watched Mob’s teary eyes drift to the side and back to him again. Mob’s mouth parted, to say what, Reigen would never know when it clicked shut with a shake of Mob’s head.

The air was silent when Mob stepped around him and the car to get to the passenger side, leaves crunching with every step, until the sound of the car door shutting filled the air.

He tried to pretend his heart wasn’t fragmenting further, leaving him breathless, wilting and aching as time continued to pass after that late-night case.

It was concerning how common it had become for them—for all of them—to pretend that everything was normal. As if Reigen wasn’t breaking and unraveling in front of them for the last two years.

Mob and Reigen had become experts at this waltz of theirs, ignoring every misstep and moving forward as if nothing had occurred. At least until another argument ensued after Reigen collapsed or something else happened.

Glancing at Mob, he thought back on how Mob returned to the office several days after their disagreement in the woods that night a week ago. The car ride back to the city was silent, with Reigen fidgeting with the radio and resisting the urge to pull to the side of the road and bawl.

He mulled over what to say and do to keep this peace and normalcy between them.

At least until the next blow-up or incident that would inevitably lead to another breakdown with Mob begging again for Reigen to let him help.

Which would only end with Reigen inevitably disappointing and hurting Mob.

The thought fell away when Mob cleared his throat, the sound blending in with the background noise of the ramen restaurant they were dining at. Reigen inhaled the scent of ramen, eating as much as he could—even though his mind screamed at him he shouldn’t care about this body of his and wouldn’t it be better if it looked as ugly as his insides—stomach warm and filled with ramen.

Mob’s hands were hidden beneath the table, no doubt fidgeting with the hem of his grey turtleneck or wiping clammy palms on his black jeans before he built up the courage to say what was on his mind.

“Mhm, what’s up?”

“My parents would like you to join us for my birthday dinner,” Mob stated after a moment, bringing his hands back up to hold his chopsticks again, gaze drifting from Reigen’s half-empty bowl to his eyes.

“Oh, I’d love to join you… but I wouldn’t want to intrude on your family dinner and celebration,” Reigen deflected, eyes scampering away from Mob’s searching stare.

In the end, it was Reigen who was fidgeting with the collar of his black turtleneck before wiping his clammy palms on his black slacks and then taking his chopsticks again while forcing himself to look at Mob again.

Mob hummed softly, slurping his noodles before placing his chopsticks to the side and redirecting his full attention to Reigen. “It’s not just my parents that want you to attend. I want you there as well, Shishou.”

“I don’t know… It must be weird to have your Shishou over for—”

“No,” Mob snapped back vehemently, surprising Reigen at the sharpness in his tone. His chopsticks clattered against his ramen bowel when he involuntarily flinched, making Mob’s lips purse and eyebrows furrow before his expression smoothed out. “I’d like you to be there.”

How was Reigen supposed to respond to this?

What could he do to solidify this boundary with Mob and tell him it wasn’t inappropriate? Mob already spent an inordinate amount of time with him, a concerning amount actually. What did it look like to Mob’s parents and others?

Though no one seemed to blink an eye at any of this at all.

He was out of the loop or missing something, Reigen reflected, thinking back on Ritu’s glares, Teru’s secretive smiles and Tome's amusement—of all the hushed arguments between Mob and Dimple.

Reigen bit his lip, taking in Mob’s eyes flickering his mouth and back up to his eyes again as concern blared in the back of his mind. The rejection was already on the tip of his tongue when he parted his lips and readied himself for the argument that would come.

But Mob spoke again before Reigen could get a word in.

“Please, Shishou,” Mob pleaded, forlorn eyes holding Reigen’s with a plea in them, and that wasn't fair. How could he say no when Mob asked him so kindly? “Just for my birthday.”

The refusal catches on his tongue, a sigh leaving him when he imagined the look of disappointment that would surely be on Dimple’s face when he found out Reigen gave into Mob’s whims.

“Okay,” he sighed, guilt already settling in his stomach.

Though he couldn’t keep the smile off his face when he caught sight of the relief, happiness and adoration blooming on Mob’s face.

─────────

He thrashed against the shadow above him, his hands chained by his tie, soaked and frayed red with blood. Reigen knew he was in a familiar nightmare of a memory that haunted him every night.

Everything had been taken from him that day.

His happiness, sense of safety, will to live and too much to truly explain.

“Stop!” he pleaded, chest heaving with every gasp for air—trying to breathe past that horrifying smoky, earthy and spicy scent that always left him weeping—a whine escaping him when large hands tightened painfully on his hips. “D-don’t! No!”

“This is all your fault, and you can only blame yourself for this. If you hadn’t taken advantage of people, you wouldn’t be here, and I wouldn’t have to punish you like this,” Yamato crooned, lips brushing against Reigen’s jaw, leaving a searing path to his throat.

When would this nightmare end?

Would Reigen only know peace in death when the last breath left his lungs, and his blood stilled in his veins?

Reigen keened when teeth scraped against his throat before pain flared up as they tore through his flesh. “S-stop!”

“Then stop me, babe. Heh, aren’t you a psychic? Go ahead and use your powers on me.”

He could only blame himself, because it was Reigen’s lies and deceit that led to this moment. If he hadn’t lied to Yamato—to Mob—then he wouldn’t have been hurt, would he?

At his sob, Yamato laughed against his neck, his thrusts speeding up and pain surging through Reigen’s body. “You want this, don’t you? God—ah—you’re such a slut, aren’t you?”

“No! I don’t—please!”

“Aha, don’t lie, babe! Didn’t we agree that lying isn’t nice?”

All Reigen wanted was to be left alone. He didn’t want hands to touch him or to be hurt. At his core, all he truly wanted and needed was for Mob to come back to his side—to save him from his suffering and hurt.

“Mob!”

“Mob? Babe, you’re hurting my feelings by calling out another man’s name,” Yamato murmured, nipping at Reigen’s ear with a smile on his face at his flinch. “I don’t think he’ll want you after this, though.”

“No, Mob! Please—ah—save me!”

“Hah, I think that it’s a little too late for your hero to rescue you.”

“Mob! Please—help! Please, please, please—”

“But keep calling for him. I can’t say that I dislike it,” Yamato grunted, grip tightening on Reigen’s hips further, dragging out another broken sob when his thrusts began to stutter.

“Mob!”

Suddenly the scent of jasmine, sandalwood and lilac filled his lungs, leaving him wanting and breathless, tears streaming faster into his hairline when a familiar voice called out to him.

“Shishou,” a voice whispered from above him.

His eyes snapped open to find Mob peering down at him with dark eyes, watching every flinch and sob torn from Reigen’s throat with every thrust of Yamato’s hips.

“Mob,” Reigen gasped, heaving with bile crawling up his throat and new tears coating his face.

This could not be happening to him or Mob, who couldn't be here to see Reigen getting torn apart. His shame and guilt laid bare to the world—to Mob—like the blood soaking into his desk beneath him now.

“Why?”

“No! Mob—”

“Why, Shishou?" Mob pleaded, his large hands reaching to grasp at Reigen’s wrists to pin them above his head. “Are we just going to keep pretending that everything is alright?”

“Please, I’m sorry!”

“Who?” Mob asked, breath warm against Reigen’s face.

Though it was Yamato’s grunt and hot breath against his throat while Mob peered down at him that had Reigen sobbing deliriously.

This couldn’t be real. It just couldn’t.

“I’m sorry!” Reigen whimpered, struggling to reach up to cradle Mob’s face.

Only to find that his strength was nothing compared to Mob’s, whose hands would leave bruises in their shape on Reigen’s wrists as pained ached through them.

“Tell me who, Shishou,” Mob murmured, his eyes flickering from Reigen’s face to the dark shadow above him. “Tell me how I can help you.”

Reigen shuddered when Yamato bit at his chest, vision whiting out at the pain searing through his broken body while he struggled to pull his wrists out of Mob’s hold.

“Please! Mob, Save me!”

Mob whimpered suddenly, making Reigen’s heart break at the sight of the tears falling from dark eyes. “You’re afraid of me… You’re afraid I’ll hurt you again.”

“No! Never—Ah! No!”

“Please, tell me what’s wrong—let me help you, Shishou,” Mob begged, tears dripping onto Reigen’s face.

“I’m sorry! Mob! Please—Ah!”

“Shishou,” Mob said in resignation, pressing his forehead to Reigen’s, grip tightening on his wrists. “You’re killing me, you know that?”

“I’m sorry!”

All Reigen wanted was to be left alone. He didn’t want hands to touch him or to be hurt. At his core, all he truly wanted and needed was for Mob to come back to his side—to save him from his suffering and hurt.

“I see,” Mob murmured against his hair, brushing his lips softly over the scar on Reigen’s temple before he pulled away.

Reigen’s wrists were released when Mob stood up from his slouch and stepped away from the desk. It left Reigen panicking and thrashing against Yamato, who still held him down as he tried reached for Mob with his restrained hands.

Mob was going to leave him again, wasn’t he?

“Don’t leave me!” Reigen begged, gasping seconds later at the look of disgust and anger on Mob’s face. Leaving him confused and whimpering, heart shattering at the look in those eyes that had only ever stared at him with love and reverence. “Mob?”

Why was Mob looking at him like that?

“Babe, when will you learn?” Yamato crooned, chuckling breathlessly and spilling into Reigen. Mob was still watching him with those dark eyes, even while Yamato had his way with Reigen. “This is all your fault, and you can only blame yourself for this. If you hadn’t taken advantage of people, you wouldn’t be here, and I wouldn’t have to punish you like this.”

That couldn’t be true, could it?

He didn’t deserve to be desecrated that like this, did he?

But then why had Mob left him in Yamato’s hands?

Where had Mob gone, Reigen thought desperately, shaking his head with a breathless sob while he called for a hero to save him. “No! No, Mob, please—”

─────────

Reigen heaved, bile coating his bedsheets and blanket while he stumbled out of bed, uncaring of the mess made of his grey shirt and black shorts. His knees banged against the floor when he tripped in his desperation to get to the bathroom. He felt like he was dying all over again, like he was on his desk and being taken apart by Yamato once more.

Why had he dreamt of Mob?

How disgusting was he, Reigen mused, grabbing the trashcan to throw up.

Sobs racked his body, tears blurring his vision while all he could think of was how he had ruined Mob enough without dragging him into his nightmares.

How much lower could he go?

He was sick. That had to be it.

There was something inherently wrong with him at his core—an illness and disease that had rotted at his skin, settled in his bones and ate away at the remains of his heart.

Nothing else could explain why he would dream of Mob being in the same place as Yamato while he took Reigen apart.

Reigen knew already, without glancing at his clock, that he would find no more comfort in sleep tonight. The only thing he desired now was a hot shower where he could rub his skin raw until it bled.

An attempt to wipe the memories of those hands from his skin—

He flinched at the feeling of wetness on his hand that had clawed at the scar on his neck unconsciously while he was lost in thought. Reigen pulled his hand away from his neck to glance at the red on it, trapped beneath his nails, while he resisted the urge to attack his scar again.

How much longer did he have to do this?

Or better yet, how much more could he take, Reigen pondered, shuddering and standing to his feet on unsteady legs to drag himself to the bathroom.

Did it matter though, when all he cared about was making sure Mob was happy?

Right… he was doing this all for Mob, wasn’t he?

So, for Mob, he would continue to push through, always and forever.

Chapter Text

“Rise and shine, princess. Did you have a good nap?”

Please let this end, Reigen thought dazedly, trying to ignore Mob—ever-present to Reigen’s humiliation and public execution—and stare at the ceiling past his shoulder.

“Shishou.”

It always started out the same with him trying to ignore Mob and his soft voice, because Reigen had learnt nothing would ever change.

“Fucking slut.”

He would remain pinned to this desk beneath Yamato, on display and dissected for Mob to see.

“Shishou, why?”

A hell of his own making trapped him; his eternal punishment—could things get any worse? Once Reigen would have said no, that it couldn’t, but he intimately knew now that his suffering had no limits.

“Your fault,” Yamato grunted, breath hot against his jaw that he nipped at, leaving searing kisses down his throat. “Such a whore.”

Reigen could only whimper in pain, his body limp as Yamato rutted into him while Mob’s hands cradled his bound wrists above his head.

“Shishou.”

Please grant him peace, even if Reigen’s salvation could only be found in death. His lips parted to beg for mercy, breath hitching, and words caught in his throat when Yamato spoke once more.

“Ha, look at that,” Yamato crowed, smiling from ear to ear and reaching down to—

No.

“Babe, you really want this, don’t you? What a fucking slut.”

No, no, no, no—

“Heh, damn, I knew you were into some kinky shit with a body and face like that!”

Tears drenched his face when Yamato wrapped a hand around Reigen’s length. The disgust and betrayal threatened to suffocate him. This couldn’t be happening to him.

Reigen didn’t want this.

“Mob! Help me!” he sobbed, staring up into dark eyes full of tenderness and love.

Mob blinked slowly, words just above a whisper. “Shishou, tell me who hurt you.”

─────────

The bathroom tile was cool against his cheek as Reigen lay beside the toilet with the scent of bile in the air. His black shorts and worn green t-shirt clung to him, cool sweat coating his body while he tried to force himself into the present again.

Reigen knew he needed to get up to ready himself for the day.

Even if all he wanted to do was continue to weep and breakdown, he couldn’t.

Not when he had responsibilities. There were bills to pay and a business to run.

Still, he wanted to claw his skin off and crawl out of the body that had betrayed him at every turn. The nightmare he had awoken from still raced through his mind. Even though Reigen was used to them, every night closing his eyes threw him back into the past.

It seemed like he continued to surprise and disappoint himself, going lower than even he thought was possible.

How disgusting was he to have his body respond to Yamato with Mob gazing on, even if it was just a nightmare?

Reigen’s thoughts fell away once more at the reminder of Yamato’s touch—rough hands touching every part of his body, while his lips devoured his cries and left behind misery—he heaved into the toilet, gagging until there was nothing left to vomit.

Even when he forced himself up, stomach churning still and eyes burning, he knew nothing could be done. This was how things were now. Reigen would live with the trauma forever, while Yamato likely hadn’t thought of him since.

With a sigh, he glanced at the mirror, frowning at his reflection and pallid face, peering at the dark shadows under his eyes. He would need to use concealer today.

He knew today would be a bad day, one where he would have to force himself to eat and push through the day to avoid concerned looks from the others. His stomached rebelled at the thought of leaving the comfort of his home.

Maybe he should take a rare sick day and hide under his body until he could make sense of why his body had betrayed him like this?

But the reminder that he had agreed to attend Mob’s birthday dinner sat in his mind. Reigen knew he had an obligation to fulfil. He had promised Mob he would attend his birthday dinner and the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint Mob any further than he already had.

This was the least Reigen could do for him.

What would Mob’s parents and Ritsu say if Reigen were to cancel last minute? They wouldn’t be impressed if Reigen hurt Mob like this on his birthday by cancelling, that was for sure.

A failure of a shishou, he mulled, forcing his shaky legs to move while he made his way to the shower.

Reigen needed to do this for Mob, and it was with the promise he would return to the comfort and safety of his home that had him getting ready for the day.

That went as it usually had until it was time for Serizawa to leave for his night class.

He watched the door close behind Serizawa and not a moment sooner, Reigen glanced over at Dimple where he hadn’t budged from his desk since he arrived moments earlier.

For a moment they were both silent, with Reigen resisting the urge to tug the collar of his white turtleneck down to claw his scar. Instead, he chose to rub his palms against his grey slacks, tugging at the fabric before sighing softly.

With pursed lips, he waited ten minutes for Dimple to speak, feeling his eyes burning into the side of his head until Reigen’s patience snapped.

“Okay, out with it,” Reigen grumbled with a frown, glancing away from his laptop towards Dimple.

Dimple blinked dumbly at him, quirking a brow in question. “What? I didn’t say anything.”

“Don’t play dumb, Dimple. I know you’re not as stupid as you look.”

“Who do you think you’re calling stupid with a face like that?”

Reigen rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “Really? Even Mob isn’t this obtuse. You’ve been staring me down since you got here.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s fair. You got me there. I haven’t exactly been slick, have I?”

“No.”

“Ah, well… I tried,” Dimple muttered with a shrug of his shoulders, huffing in exasperation seconds later when Reigen glared at him. He glanced from Reigen to Mob’s desk and then back again. “Are you going to Shigeo’s for his birthday dinner?”

“Yes?”

Dimple hummed softly, brows furrowing and a thoughtful look settling on his face, while Reigen felt impatience flit through him.

“Dimple?”

“Well… Ah, it’s just that—Hm, well…”

Concern prickled at Reigen while Dimple struggled to find his words. Had things devolved once again between Mob and Dimple, just when it seemed as if the two had overcome whatever issues there were between them?

“Did something happen with Mob?”

“Ahh, well, not exactly. You know when Shige-chan is involved, things can be… unexpected.”

“What does that even mean?” Reigen asked, squinting at Dimple with flickers of annoyance continuing to grow within him while his patience thinned. He would regret being snappy with Dimple and Serizawa today. But he couldn’t think straight today with his latest nightmare still running amok in his head. “I really don’t have time for this. If you’re not going to spit it out, then don’t distract me from closing up. I have to head to Mob’s and—”

A shroud of green blocked his view of his laptop, forcing Reigen to blink in bemusement at Dimple as he hovered above his laptop.

“Don’t go,” Dimple finally spat out with a scowl.

“Huh?”

“I don’t think you should go Shige-chan’s birthday dinner tonight.”

“Why?”

“I-I can’t say,” Dimple muttered, crossing his arms in irritation.

Despite the concern battling the irritation within him, Reigen was tired of this song and dance between Dimple. The two seemed to have no issue in dragging him into their issues now, it seemed.

“Are you being for real, right now?”

“Hah… I can’t say why, okay?” Dimple said with a sigh, uncrossing and then crossing his arms again. “But it’s for your own good. Trust me.”

How many times would Reigen have to deal with being pulled between these two when he himself was fraying at both ends?

“I’m not going to cancel on Mob and his family—especially on his birthday.”

Dimple threw his hands up with a huff, agitation rolling off him. “I know! You know I wouldn’t say this for no reason!”

“Then tell me why!” he snapped.

 Just what the hell was going on?

A part of Reigen felt hurt, his heart stinging at the fact that it seemed like everyone but him was in on this secret. One that everyone seemed focused on keeping him in the dark about.

Did they think he was that weak and fragile?

As expected, instead of giving him the truth, Dimple tried to feed him an excuse. “Don’t you think it’s better to put a bit of distance between you and Shigeo?”

“Huh? Why would I do that?”

When could Reigen say that enough was enough, and that they needed to resolve what issue there was between them without dragging Reigen into it?

They couldn’t make him play favourites or whatever this was, not when they all knew who Reigen would choose.

“Don’t play dumb, Reigen. You’re not nearly pretty enough to be this stupid,” Dimple said, fluttering around him like a fly.

Internally, he patted himself on the back for not recoiling or throwing up over himself at the thought of being called pretty, not when the last person who had called him that had broken him.

Instead, he scowled, shutting his laptop with a huff. “I’m not going to sit here and listen to you insult me.”

Dimple sighed with an apologetic look on his face when he stopped to hover in front of him again. “Let me rephrase that. Shige-chan’s behaviour has been different—concerning—right?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s…” his words trailed off at the incredulous expression on Dimple’s face.

“Really?”

“Okay—fine—yes, it’s concerning.”

“And you think it’s what exactly?” Dimple asked with a raised brow.

The beginnings of sweat pooled on the back of his neck while tension settled on his shoulders.

“Guilt?”

“No.”

“Dimple—”

“Reigen, you really can’t be this oblivious…”

With an internal wince, Reigen sighed. He knew Dimple was right. There was something concerning about Mob’s behaviour that Reigen had refused to delve deeper into.

He was too caught up in his own trauma and nightmares to try to uncover what was going on with Mob.

What if it was the last nail in Reigen’s coffin?

“It’s fine,” he mumbled with a fake smile on his lips.

“You know that whatever this thing is with Shigeo isn't normal! You shouldn’t encourage it,” Dimple pressed, waving a hand in the air as to try to explain Mob's behaviour.

“I’m not encouraging it or anything.”

“Then don’t go.”

“Do you think I don’t know how to handle Mob?” Reigen frowned, narrowing his eyes at Dimple’s request that was more like an order bordering on a plea.

“No, I don’t think you do. At least not anymore.”

“Hmph, he’s just a teenager, Dimple,” he scoffed with agitation, shoving his chair back and grabbing his black blazer thrown over the back of it to shrug it over his turtleneck.

“That just makes it worse! Those snot-nosed brats have no self-control and Shigeo isn’t any different!” Dimple declared, zipping towards Reigen who had made his way to the door, pausing to grab Mob’s wrapped gift off the coffee table. “You’re better off not going to the—”

He shook his head, giving Dimple a sharp look and grabbing his black jacket off the coatrack. “I’m not going to do that to Mob! Just because you say his behaviour is concerning or whatever. He’s been through a lot and—”

“We’ve all been through a lot!”

His eyes drifted from Dimple to Mob’s desk and then back to Dimple before he stepped out of the office.

“It’s… my fault.”

There wasn’t anything further he had to say for Dimple to understand the guilt Reigen was living with after all Mob had been through.

Though he wondered, what Dimple would have said if he knew about Yamato.

Would he have thought Reigen suffered enough? Or maybe Yamato needed to take another bite out of him to make his lesson truly stick?

“You… you can’t really believe that,” Dimple muttered, hands coming up as if to reach for Reigen.

“It is.”

“Reigen—”

“Listen, if you can’t give me a reason, then I’m just going to assume it can’t be that serious,” he groused, patience finally reaching the end of this frayed rope while he slammed the office door shut behind him.

“Just listen to me!” Dimple yelped, phasing through the door and following him.

“No, you listen,” Reigen snapped, locking the door and turning around to glare at Dimple, whose stared back in resignation. “Keep me out of whatever this weird thing is that’s been going on between you and Mob!”

“Oh my god,” Dimple bemoaned, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation once more. “You’re gonna feel really dumb later for not listening to me!”

Reigen rolled his eyes, turning away to head towards the stairwell. “Sure I am.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” Dimple shouted, voice echoing in the stairwell.

Mob’s gift felt like a weight in his hands; the red wrapping paper crinkled in his grasp while he ignored Dimple’s eyes burning into his back until he was out of sight.

It would be fine. What was there to worry about?

Was what Reigen repeated to himself on the walk to Mob’s house, until he was in front the Kageyama home, stepping over a puddle from the storm yesterday to make his way to their front door.

He fidgeted with Mob’s gift as the cool spring wind felt soothing against his skin and helped ground him from the odd feeling simmering in his stomach.

An emotion Reigen couldn’t name, but it sat like an anchor and made him want to turn around and head home.

But he couldn’t.

Not when it was Mob’s birthday.

With that thought, he rang the doorbell, waiting barely a minute before it opened to reveal Mob. Whose face lit up at the sight of him, a smile growing when Reigen reached up to ruffle his dark tresses, making him laugh softly.

Reigen breathed in the scent of food—fried, baked and smelling like home—mixed with the scent of jasmine, lilac and juniper.

Lilac and jasmine he always associated with Mob or Ritsu, that soothed him, even though he lingered on the other scents.

“Reigen-shishou.”

“Happy Birthday, Mob. Sorry I’m late. The last case went a bit longer than expected,” he explained, the feeling in his gut becoming muffled in the face of Mob’s joy.

Mob shook his head, the key on a chain around his neck swaying with the motion, before he smoothed his hair down with a huff, a large hand over his grey shirt and blue jeans as if to get rid of imaginary lint.

“It’s okay. I’m just glad you were able to make it.”

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Reigen declared, passing the gift over to Mob and stepping into the foyer of the Kageyama home.

“Ah, thank you, Shishou. You didn’t have to get me anything… You coming to my birthday dinner was enough—it was all I wanted,” Mob murmured, eyes soft while he gazed down at Reigen.

“Pfft! How much of a cheapskate do you think I am?” he laughed, shrugging his jacket off with a small smile. “Seriously, sixteen is a big milestone! You’ll be an adult in the blink of an eye and going off to university before you know it.”

“You really think so?” Mob question, taking Reigen’s jacket to hang in the closet, before elaborating further at his curious look. “Uhm, that I’m growing up—that I’m an adult, and—”

“Heh, slow down there, Mob. You’re still a kid. Just enjoy your youth, okay?”

“…Okay.”

Mob looked like he was on the verge of pouting, nodding to Reigen’s words and hanging his jacket in the closet by the front door.

Reigen couldn’t be sure about what landmine he had stepped on when a sullen expression fell over Mob’s face seconds later. It had him scrambling to say something to cut through the awkward silence.

“Ah, well… I hope you like your gift.”

“I’d love anything you’d give me,” Mob said, sullen expression disappearing to make way for fondness.

His words were heavy with an emotion that made Reigen’s gut twist strangely.

He pressed his lips together before forcing a smile to them, gaze skittering away from Mob’s and back to him again.

Mob’s eyes were filled with an emotion—a desire and want—that Reigen refused to consider, even while his mind drifted back to Dimple’s words and visit today.

(“No, not like this,” Dimple added on, sighing and floating up to Reigen’s eye level. “I don’t think you do know or realize it, but you need to be firm with him.”)

Shaking his head even while Dimple’s words bounced around in his head, Reigen blinked up at Mob, who smiled gently at him, eyes crinkling and filled with warmth. He wasn’t sure what compelled him to ask, but the thought of Dimple had Reigen’s mouth moving before he could think.

“Where’s Dimple?” he inquired, sliding his black dress shoes off to put on slippers Mob set aside for him.

Mob sighed, shoving one hand into his black sweats and glancing away from Reigen. “He won’t be attending the dinner today.”

“But it’s your birthday…”

“He won’t be attending today,” Mob repeated, words hard and carrying a strange uncurrent.

That had Reigen’s mouth clicking shut as he trailed after Mob down the hall to where the rest of his family awaited in the living room and kitchen. He wanted to prod Mob for more information, but something told Reigen to drop the subject.

Mob’s mother was already shuffling over to them from the kitchen the moment they stepped into the living room.

“Ah! Reigen-san, welcome!” she greeted him, wiping her hands on her worn beige apron thrown over a floral pink sheath dress, before holding her arms wide open to pull him into a hug.

She smelt of coconut, vanilla bourbon and jasmine—ah, so that was where that scent came from. The one that clung to Mob, alongside the shared smell of lilac with Ritsu.

How cute, Reigen mused with a smile, letting Mob’s mother hug him despite the way he wanted to be left untouched.

Reigen could never get used to the warmth the Kageyama family exuded, nor the kindness they gave away so easily.

Kindness that he didn’t deserve, he mused, relieved when Mob’s mother didn’t comment on his sudden rigidness in response to her hug—she smelt of coconut, jasmine, vanilla bourbon.

“Thank you for inviting me over.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw something move, making his gaze dart over to where Ritsu, clad in a simple green hoodie and grey jeans, had stepped around Mob to enter the living room, having come down from his bedroom.

“Reigen-san,” Ritsu said, scrunching his nose with a frown.

“Ritsu, how’s it going?”

Even when Mob was acting different and strange, Reigen could always rely on Ritsu to behave as he always would. Though Ritsu acted prickly with him, a childish part of Reigen always lit up at the sight of him.

“It was going well until now,” Ritsu groused, despite the fond look in his eyes.

Some things never changed, did they?

Mob’s mother looked horrified, eyes snapping towards Ritsu with words of admonishment on her lips. “Ritsu! I’m so sorry, Reigen-san. He’s usually so polite.”

“Heh, Kageyama-san, it’s no worries—really. That’s just how Ritsu shows affection, isn’t it?” Reigen teased, sending Ritsu an admittedly shit-eating grin.

That had Ritsu snarling and making Reigen muffle his laughter. “Hell no! What would even give you that idea!?”

He opened his mouth to shoot back another teasing response, only to be cut off by Mob’s father appearing, in a simple red sweater and black slacks, joining them in the living room from wherever he had been.

“Reigen-san, you were able to make it!” Mob’s father said with a large smile.

“Ah, thank you for having me over for dinner.”

“You don’t need to thank us. We’ve been meaning to, ah—wanted to—have you join us for dinner for some time now,” Mob’s father chuckled, entering his space, filling it with the scent of licorice, juniper and coffee, and resting a hand on his shoulder.

The scent of coffee almost sent him spiralling.

Though he tried to force his anxiety down, inhaling the familiar scent of jasmine and lilac.

Reigen could barely keep himself from pulling away from Mob’s father’s touch like he had been burnt. Though he couldn’t stop himself from flinching, even while Mob’s father coaxed him toward the couches with Mob’s gaze burning into his back.

“Oh… Well, thank you for the invitation.”

“It’s something we hope we can do more often,” Mob’s mother murmured when she came over to set a plate of snacks down on the coffee table for them. She tucked a lock of hair back behind her ear, a warm smile on her face. “We hope you’ll join us regularly—and not just for dinners—but for other events.”

He wasn’t sure how to respond, hands unconsciously fiddling with the sleeve of his blazer while his eyes skittered from Mob’s mother’s soft gaze.

“Ah, well, I wouldn’t want to intrude…”

“None of that now! You’re not intruding on anything,” Mob’s father laughed, grabbing a bottle of sake that was next to two empty glasses and pouring himself a drink.

“I don’t remember agreeing to that,” Ritsu grumbled.

Reigen’s eyes darted from Mob’s parents towards where Mob and Ritsu watched on from the kitchen. He couldn’t stop himself from sticking his tongue out at Ritsu when Mob’s parents aren’t looking.

The amused look on Mob’s face was worth it, even though Ritsu seemed close to chucking a plate at Reigen’s head.

“Ritsu,” Mob’s mother scolded with a heavy frown.

“Sorry.”

“You’re more than welcome,” Mob’s mother said, her glare directed at Ritsu refocusing on Reigen. “With how much you’ve helped Shigeo—and us—you’re family.”

“I… Uhm, thank you.”

Mob’s mother’s lip quirked up fondly at his flustered reaction before she turned to get back to the kitchen. “Ritsu, Shigeo, can you two set the table, please?”

This was almost too much to handle.

It was too much kindness and warmth, and was it any surprise that Mob had become such an amazing person with a family like this?

A house full of laughter and warmth, Reigen reflected, his mind drifting to memories he had tried to lock away.

There was always a childish part of him that wanted to have a mother and father that loved him unconditionally—parents that didn’t view him as a disappointment or an annoyance.

“Reigen-san, you drink, right?”

His thoughts stuttered when he’s dragged back to the present to refocus on Mob’s father holding out the sake bottle to him.

“No… not anymore.”

“Good for you!” Mob’s father chuckled loudly, grabbing a bottle of water and pouring that into a glass for Reigen. “I can’t seem to kick the habit. I’m a man of pleasure, you see!”

Maybe once he would have accepted Mob’s father’s offer of having a drink, but not now. How could Reigen even stomach the idea of touching alcohol again when it would drag him into memories he wanted to forget?

It would make him vulnerable too, wouldn’t it?

Yes, it was best if he abstained, because he knew the blame would be on his shoulders again if something else were to occur.

Even if Reigen had said no.

“You know…” Mob’s father started to say, taking a sip of his drink while glancing over to where the rest of his family bustled around in the kitchen. “I was unsure at first about Shigeo working at your office.”

“Of course, it would be expected for you as his parent to be concerned,” Reigen reasoned, reaching to grab his glass of water from the coffee table to give his hands something to do.

“Ha! You should have seen the tantrum Shigeo threw when we told him he couldn’t work—that he was too young—and you know how Shige-chan is. He’s never been one to have outbursts, even when he was younger. So, we knew he was serious about this,” Mob’s father shared, sighing and taking another sip of his drink, oblivious to Reigen’s meandering thoughts. “Shigeo has always been stubborn when he sets his mind on something. But with the way he pushed back and, well… We agreed on the condition that we meet with you. I don’t regret that decision. You’ve done a lot for Shigeo and our family.”

The guilt weighed on him heavily, because his intentions hadn’t been pure at the start. Reigen had planned to use Mob, no, he had used him.

What would Mob’s parents have thought if they knew Reigen was a fraud, one who had used their son? Reigen still remembered the first meeting with Mob’s parents and the mask he had thrown on to trick with them.

Reigen shook his head, clearing his throat in discomfort. “It’s—well, uhm—Kageyama-san, you don’t need to thank me. I just want the best for Mob.”

“Hm, I think I understand what Shigeo meant now,” at Reigen’s curious glance, Mob’s father continued. “You really don’t understand how you’ve changed Shigeo’s life for the better.”

“Ah… I don’t think I did that much,” he declared, taking a sip of his water to ease his suddenly dry throat before continuing. “Mob’s an amazing person, and he has a good head on his shoulders.”

“That he does, and well… as much as I want to say, it’s all thanks to his mother and I, you’ve done a lot for him and us. We can’t thank you enough.”

“Kageyama-san, you don’t have to thank me."

Mob’s father shook his head, his glass of sake threatening to spill when he turned his body to face Reigen fully. “I do. Shigeo… ever since that incident with Ritsu he changed and neither his mother or I—or Ritsu—could help him… To see him pull away and change, hating and fearing his own powers, it was difficult to watch. We couldn’t do anything to help him accept that part of himself.”

Guilt settled around his neck like arms of a lover when Mob’s father looked at him with such kindness and trust.

Reigen couldn’t bear to look at him any further as his eyes skittered away and off to the side. “You don’t need to thank me.”

“It was all you… I can understand it now. Shigeo’s feel—ah—relationship with you.”

There was something strange about what Mob’s father had said, though he couldn’t linger on that when his mind was scrambling to redirect the conversation to another topic. He couldn’t accept or handle the praises and gratitude from Mob’s father, who had mistakenly believed Reigen was a good person.

“He’s a great kid. I’m lucky to have him as my disciple and in my life. He’s going to go far in life. I know it.”

“Ha! Kid, huh? Don’t let Shigeo hear you say that, or he’ll be sulking all night!”

“Hear what?” Mob asked, blinking at them in bemusement, leaning down to grab the tray of snacks to return to the kitchen.

“Oh! Shigeo, ha! It’s nothing to worry about,” Mob’s father chuckled, grinning from ear to ear at the confusion on Mob’s face.

Reigen shrugged his shoulders when Mob’s questioning stare turned to him, muffling his own snicker when Mob rolled his eyes when his father’s snickers didn’t seem to cease.

It seemed Mob’s father found something funny here, though Reigen couldn’t put his finger on what it was.

“Dinner is ready,” Mob’s mother called from the kitchen.

With that, it was a blur of moving from the couch to the kitchen table, where they had placed out a fifth chair, one that clearly didn’t match the rest of the set, to one end of the table. Mob’s father took that seat, even though Reigen felt it would be more appropriate for him to be seated there.

After all, he was the odd one out and not a member of the family, right?

Though that discomfort faded while they all tucked in for dinner, with Mob and Ritsu on the other side of the table from Reigen and Mob’s mother.

Halfway through dinner, Reigen pondered if Ritsu was trying to unlock the ability to light someone on fire with just a glare.

He hoped not, Reigen reflected in amusement, quirking a brow at Ritsu before glancing over at Mob’s mother when she spoke.

“Reigen-san, I don’t think I ever asked you what did before you opened up your business?”

Right, Reigen could do this.

Small talk had always been something he excelled in and could do with his eyes closed, so with that, Reigen pulled that familiar mask on to answer whatever questions came his way. Some of them were difficult to answer, or was it that he couldn’t understand some comments and jokes being made by Mob’s father?

“You’re looking thinner than the last time we saw you. Is Shigeo not making sure you’re eating enough?” Mob’s father joked, concern an undercurrent to his words.

Reigen was saved from responding when Mob’s father let out a quiet hiss and glanced at Mob’s mother, who gave her husband a serene smile.

“Dear, why don’t you have seconds,” Mob’s mother asked, though she didn’t really seem to be asked with how she reached over to pile more food onto her husband’s plate.

Mob’s father flushed, nodding and chuckling awkwardly. “Seconds would be great. Your cooking is as lovely as always…”

“The food is amazing, Kageyama-san,” Reigen said seconds later.

He meant it too; even though he still had half his food left on his plate. Reigen couldn’t remember the last time he had such a wonderful home-cooked meal.

“Oh, thank you! Please have seconds!” Mob’s mother beamed at him; cheeks flushed a pretty pink with pride on her face.

Ah… Reigen really didn’t want to.

No, that wasn’t right.

If he could have, then Reigen would have eaten all she had made and then some. But his appetite had vanished with the nightmare this morning and his body’s betrayal. He glanced away from Mob’s mother to Ritsu and Mob, to find them eyeing him with various looks of concern.

Ritsu’s lips were pursed, gaze flickering between Reigen and Mob, while Mob stared at him steadfastly at him and down to Reigen’s half-eaten meal. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he looked away and back to Mob’s mother with a smile.

“Thank you. Seconds would be great.”

Reigen couldn’t understand why there was a sudden interest in him attending a dinner with the Kageyama family. He felt out of place in this home, full of so much warmth and happiness—the opposite of Reigen’s own childhood and family.

It was as if he was an intruder or outsider looking in on something he had no right to, nor did he deserve.

“Shigeo always talks about you,” Mob’s father said suddenly, chuckling when Mob’s spoon warped, and his food spilled back onto his plate.

“Shige-chan!” Mob’s mother yelped as Ritsu sent Reigen a glare.

That Reigen could only quirk an eyebrow at while watching Ritsu take Mob’s spoon and bend it back into place.

“Thank you,” Mob mumbled under his breath, taking his spoon back from Ritsu with a flushed face before glancing at his father in exasperation. “Tou-san…”

“Ah! Ha, sorry, Shigeo. I didn’t mean to embarrass you in front of your Shishou!”

“Well, I hope it’s all good things that are being said,” Reigen interrupted, feeling bad when Mob’s blush deepened.

“Of course, of course!” Mob’s father chuckled, reaching over to thump Mob on his back. “You’re all he can talk about, Reigen-san! Our boy is completely enam—Ouch!”

Mob’s father yelped loudly, his knee banging against the side of the table with a hiss and eyes darting towards Mob’s mother when she spoke through gritted teeth.

“Dear… I think your food is getting cold.”

“Aha, of course…”

Reigen stared at them in confusion, redirecting his stare towards Mob and Ritsu. Mob seemed to have found something particularly interesting on his now empty plate, while Ritsu looked like he was seconds away from reaching across to pulverize Reigen. He warily eyed how Ritsu’s jaw clenched and the tight grasp on his spoon, before refocusing on Mob’s parents.

“Uhm… Ah, I couldn’t have asked for a better disciple. Really. I’m learning from Mob just as much as he’s learning from me.”

“I’m sure that you are,” Ritsu grumbled, grunting when Mob elbowed him.

“Honey, why don’t you go grab the cake while the boys clear the plates?” Mob’s mother said, but to Reigen’s ears it sounded more like an order. One that Mob’s father followed, scrambling up and to the kitchen while Mob’s mother turned to smile at Reigen. “It’s always nice having the whole family together.”

He nodded, unsure what to say to that when he rarely ever wanted to remember his own family dinners. Mob and Ritsu stand to their feet suddenly, making him glance up at them when they start collecting the plates and dishes to take to the kitchen. When Mob reached for his plate, Reigen gave him what he hoped was an encouraging smile.

Though Mob only turned a deeper red, the plates clattering in his hands that he steadied with his powers.

“Nii-san, please be careful,” Ritsu groused, sneering at Reigen one last time before steering Mob to the kitchen.

For the second time today, Reigen found himself sticking his tongue out at Ritsu, who rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath.

He chuckled at the sour look on Ritsu’s face. “Ritsu is really easy to tease, huh?”

“You fit just right in,” Mob’s mother murmured fondly from his side just as her husband returned with the cake.

Reigen would admit it was a wonderful cake, though he only had a small slice, even while Mob’s mother tried to put as much as she could on his plate. Even so, she had packed away leftovers from dinner and the cake for him to take home, that Reigen couldn’t decline.

A home-cooked meal was truly a gift, wasn’t it? 

Ritsu, Mob and their father were in the living room when Reigen returned from the bathroom, while Mob’s mother was fussing about in the kitchen. He knew Mob or one of the others would come over to help her in a matter of minutes, though Reigen stepped up first.

“Kageyama-san, please, let me help,” he called out as he made his way to the kitchen.

“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to clean-up when we invited you!”

“Please, I insist.”

Mob’s mother shook her head in exasperation, shifting over to make space for Reigen. He rolled the sleeves of his white turtleneck up, relieved to have left his blazer on the couch, until a familiar warmth settled next to him.

He craned his head up to smile at Mob, who was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, and a grey shirt stretched across his biceps. Though he was quickly kicked out of the kitchen by his mother in a matter of seconds.

“Shigeo, why don’t you go sit with Ritsu and your father? Reigen-san and I have it from here.”

Mob sulked when his mother shooed him out of the kitchen, with Reigen’s gaze following him until he settled in beside Ritsu at the couches.

“He’s grown up so much, hasn’t he?”

Reigen jumped, flustered at having been caught watching Mob. “Ah, yeah, he really has.”

“He’s a wonderful boy. I couldn’t be prouder of him… Especially after everything he’s gone through,” Mob’s mother mused out loud, handing him a plate to dry while he hummed in agreement.

“We were initially against having him work at the office—with Shigeo’s age—and, well…” Mob’s mother said, glancing at Reigen with a look he couldn’t decipher. “But Shigeo, heh, that boy… When he sets his heart on something, nothing will change his mind.”

“Ah, I can imagine… It must have been strange and, uhm… concerning for Mob to tell you he wanted to work at my office at that age. Any parent would worry.”

The look on Mob’s mother’s face had him wondering if he was completely off the mark. She laughed softly, shaking her head before speaking again.

“Hm… Yes, we were concerned with him wanting to work at the office. But in the end, we trust Shige-chan’s judgement. Goodness knows his father and I have never been able to get him to change his mind once he’s set on something.”

“Heh, yea, Mob is stubborn when he wants to be,” Reigen chuckled fondly. “I’m not sure how you manage, Kageyama-san.”

“Sometimes I wonder too!” she giggled as she bumped her hip against his. “Shige-chan’s never been one to really want anything, so it came as a surprise that he pushed back so much! His father and I were used to Ritsu arguing back, but Shigeo surprised us.”

The sound of Mob’s mother’s laughter and the Kageyama men chattering in the living room made warmth coat Reigen’s icy heart. The Kageyama family had unknowingly become the balm that eased some of the hurt from his nightmare this morning.

“Please come by more often. We would love to get to know you better.”

“Oh, uhm… I—”

Mob’s mother blinked up at him, lips curling into what almost looked like a smirk. “We were being serious about you attending more dinners and other events.”

“…Of course. Ah, I’m grateful—truly—I just don’t want to intrude or—”

“Reigen-san,” his jaw clicked when Mob’s mother wiped her hands off with a towel before laying a small hand on his shoulder. “Please don’t say that. You’re family and we all want you here—even Ritsu—he’s just too shy to say it. You’ve done a lot for our Shige-chan… I never thought I would see that little boy again after what happened with Ritsu. But he’s back, and it’s… it’s all thanks to you.”

He didn’t deserve her kindness or warmth, not after all he had done and how he used Mob. Mob’s mother’s voice cracked as she sniffled softly, making Reigen glance over at Mob and the others in worry.

It looked as if Mob and Ritsu were in a heated argument of sorts, he mused, redirecting his focus to Mob’s mother when she pulled her hand away to wipe at her eyes.

“Kageyama-san—”

She shook her head, giving him a wobbly smile. “You gave me my little boy back. Shige-chan and I can never thank you enough. I don’t think you truly understand how much you’ve done for Shigeo—for us.”

“Kageyama-san…”

“We’re indebted to you.”

“Please don’t say that,” Reigen rasped, swallowing down the lump that had settled in his throat. “Mob has helped me just as much. I’m grateful to him.”

“I was unsure at first, but it calms me to know that Shigeo is truly loved. You believed in him when even Shigeo didn’t—when we didn’t,” Mob’s mother said, pausing for a moment, her watery eyes searching Reigen’s face while his own gaze skittered away to try to fight back the familiar sting of tears.

He froze at the feel of slender arms wrapping around him, and even while his own arms were limp at his side, Mob’s mother took little offence. She held him close, warm against him and voice soft—full of absolute gratitude and fondness.

It made Reigen want to hide away and weep in shame.

“Thank you for being there for him,” she whispered, arms tightening around him for a moment before she pulled away with a sniffle and kind smile. “Shigeo… he really loves you a lot, you know that?”

“I know,” he murmured, swallowing down his true words and thoughts. Mob shouldn’t love and care for Reigen after all he had done. “Mob is precious to me as well. You have an amazing son, Kageyama-san.”

“Thank you. It’s all that a parent can hope for, right?”

She nodded, laughing wetly and redirecting the conversation to lighter topics, all while Reigen felt a familiar pair of eyes watching him. The rest of the night went by fast after that until it was time for him to head home and return to whatever nightmare awaited him when he went to bed that night.

Though Reigen hadn’t expected this.

Walking home on his own was what he was prepared for, even though the thought of being out so late made something fearful nestle itself in his heart.

After all, who knew what dangers lurked in the dark?

“You really didn’t need to do this,” Reigen grumbled in exasperation, sending a look to Mob, who was walking next to him.

Hands shoved into his black jacket, the air colder now and holding onto the last bits of winter as it bit into their skin. Mob shrugged his shoulders, blinking down at him with a smile.

“I wanted to.”

“Hmph, I’m not some kid.”

“I know.”

“Who’s going to walk you back then, huh?” he shot back, bumping his shoulder against Mob’s, who bumped his back with a small laugh.

“I can fly back.”

“Yeah, of course you can do that.”

Reigen rolled his eyes fondly, peering up at Mob, whose hair glinted under the streetlights above them while that turned the corner after crossing the street. There were still people out, though Reigen wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or not.

Would it be more comforting to have others around in case something happened?

But who knew whether others had good intentions?

“I could fly you to your place, it would be faster,” at Reigen’s curious stare, Mob continued. “I would have to carry you.”

“Nope! Let’s stick to walking,” the pout settling on Mob’s face had Reigen letting out a huff of laughter and bumping his shoulder against Mob’s again. “Cheer up! It’s your birthday.”

Mob nodded, glancing down to where Reigen was fiddling with the zipper of his jacket, before peering up at the dark sky above them. He almost wanted to ask what Mob was looking for as a comforting silence fell over them until they reached his apartment, and they were at his front door before they knew it.

Reigen unlocked the door and stepped inside, before turning to face Mob again. “You gonna come in this time?”

“Ah, uhm…”

“Mob?”

He watched as Mob nodded slowly and stepping inside, removing his shoes while keeping his jacket on as his gaze flickered around the apartment. Reigen knew that familiar look that had settled over Mob’s face while he bustled to the kitchen.

“Tea?”

“No, I’m okay. Thank you.”

It was best to let Mob sit on whatever was on his mind for a moment. Eventually, he would bring it up if it was important or bothered him enough.

With that thought, Reigen grabbed his kettle, filling it with water and turning it on next to the stove. It was one of those clear glass ones. Sometimes he liked to watch the water boil while his mind drifted.

He watched the water boil in the kettle, leaning against the counter and slanting a look to his right when Mob settled in next to him. Mob seemed content to study his apartment, peering over at the cluttered mess on his counter.

Reigen should push and ask if everything was okay, or if there was something Mob wanted to say.

Like a good shishou should, Reigen thought, fiddling with the collar of his turtleneck.

But he couldn’t bring himself to, not when that familiar red alarm was blaring in his mind once more. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed between the water boiling to now, with Reigen having prepared his tea, a simple matcha one, that he took his first sip of now.

“Shishou.”

Reigen glanced up and caught Mob’s eyes that slid from his own gaze and down to his tea coated lips, before drifting back up again.

Dread flickered in his mind like a lighter, and for some reason, had him setting his teacup on the counter to give Mob his full attention.

“Yeah?”

“Ah… I-I actually… Uhm…” Mob stuttered, attempting to find his words while his hand twitched where it laid on the counter.

As if he was just barely stopping himself from reaching for Reigen’s free hand, that was splayed on the counter beside his teacup.

(“There’s no girl I like,” Mob stated, making Reigen quirk a brow in confusion.)

If Reigen’s first mistake of the night had been inviting Mob into his apartment, the second had to be locking his eyes with Mob’s, where his words caught in his throat at the look in them.

Why are you looking at me like that, Reigen almost asked—no demanded. It felt as if his heart was in his throat and the air had been sucked out of the room.

(“Is that what you think this is?” Dimple questioned, staring at him in disbelief.)

Clearing his throat, Reigen stepped back and away from where Mob had shuffled closer, disguising his movements under the guise of getting sugar from the cabinet.

(Dimple laughed softly, grinning and crossing his arms. “Well, Shige-chan is going to change as he gets older, but he’s still immature, despite what he says. This is nothing compared to what happened with that girl. I think the kid is terrified with what he’s feeling, and he doesn’t want to upset you.”)

But the world couldn’t show even this small kindness to Reigen.

He eyed the arms caging him against the counter, far enough that they weren’t touching him, while he peered over his shoulder at Mob.

“Shishou, I—”

(Oh, Reigen mused, eyeing the large hands encircling his wrists.)

Reigen was moving before he could think, turning around fully to press a hand against Mob’s chest in an attempt to create distance, even though he barely budged.

It was just Mob, Reigen reminded himself desperately.

Who would never hurt a fly, and what right did Reigen have to be so terrified?

(The scent of coffee, vetiver, leather and cinnamon filled his lungs alongside the ache of glass in his soles while teeth scrapped against his neck with a promise of pain.)

Even so, Reigen’s body didn’t know any different.

Not when all it could see, smell, touch and remember was—

(“This is karma, y’know? For all the bullshit you’ve done—the people you’ve used," Yamato murmured, peering down at him with wide eyes, gaze drifting from Reigen's face to his naked body. "Do you know why this is happening?”)

The fear had him biting his lip to muffle his whimper. Still, they parted seconds later to tell Mob off as Reigen glanced up at him. Mob’s eyes were full of so much want and love, even while they drifted to the side and back to him, before snapping back to the side again.

He wasn’t sure what Mob was doing when he was suddenly reaching for something behind off to the side, just a bit behind Reigen. But it had Mob’s lips parting and brows pinching, gaze locked on something Reigen couldn’t see.

Yet, Reigen wasn’t just blind to this, was he? He had been oblivious to so many things.

“M-Mob?”

Reigen knew he sounded uncertain and fearful even to his own ears, while the sound of his own heart pounding filled his ears while he struggled to breathe.

It was just Mob, he reiterated to himself.

He had no right to be so fearful of Mob.

Get it together, Arataka, he desperately snarled at himself, because Reigen couldn’t break down here, could he?

Not again and certainly not in front of Mob, was what he told himself while struggled to gather himself again. Reigen wasn’t sure what look he had on his face that made Mob glance at him and then stumble back as if burnt with something clutched in his hand.

Through teary eyes, he blinked rapidly to see what Mob had grabbed. “W-what is it?”

“Shishou, what is this?” Mob croaked after a moment, and it was only now that Reigen could finally see it was his medication held in Mob’s hand.

This couldn’t be happening.

The bottle from the morning he had stupidly forgotten to put back away in his bathroom after the chaos and confusion after his nightmare was held in Mob’s grasp.

His mistakes had once again led to Mob suffering and getting one step closer to unravelling Reigen’s poorly patched together persona—this secret he wanted to take to his grave.

“I-it’s nothing,” Reigen snapped, reaching to grab the pill bottle—his salvation and the crutch keeping him from ending it all—only to find Mob’s grip tightening on the bottle further. “Give it back.”

“This is—these are anti-depressants,” Mob said dumbly.

How could this be happening when Reigen had tried so hard to keep it together all this time to maintain the image of infallible shishou in Mob’s eyes?

“Mob—”

“Why do you… why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it’s not any of your business!”

Mob startled when Reigen yelled, his voice shrill and cracking with emotion while tears stung his eyes. He snatched the bottle out of Mob’s hand, bitterly knowing he could only retrieve it because Mob allowed it.

“I-I’m sorry, Shishou. I didn’t mean to snoop,” Mob apologized, hands coming in a placating manner while he stepped back further and curling in on himself.

An attempt to make himself smaller and less threatening to him, Reigen realized.

The shame and remorse snuffed the anger out as quickly as it came.

What right did he have to lash out when Mob had done nothing more than catch Reigen in another lie?

How terrible was he for lashing out at Mob on his birthday, when all he had done was express concern for Reigen? He knew Mob meant nothing by this.

It was pure concern for Reigen.

Would he have done the same if he were in Mob’s shoes, nothing but a sixteen-year-old teenager who wore his emotions on his sleeve and with a heart too kind for someone like Reigen?

“Hah… Mob,” Reigen sighed in exhaustion, pinching the bridge of his nose while his other hand held his medication and lifeline in a shaking grip. “It’s… fine. You don’t have to apologize.”

Mob shook his head in desperation, wide and remorseful eyes beseeching him. “No, I do! I shouldn’t have looked—or asked—I’m sorry, Shishou.”

“It’s fine,” he recognized the look on Mob’s face as the start of him getting ready to argue back. “I said, it’s fine. Drop it.”

“Uhm, okay… S-sorry,” Mob stuttered through another apology, hands fiddling with the bottom of his jacket.

He looked close to tears if Reigen really thought about it. Mob’s lips trembled slightly; his eyes had a glassy sheen, his Adam’s apple bobbed, and his hands gripped his jacket in a white-knuckled grasp.

Despite knowing he shouldn’t drop it so easily, Reigen couldn’t stop the fondness and sadness winning over.

This wasn’t how he wanted Mob’s birthday to end.

Reigen sighed again, setting his medication aside on the counter before giving Mob his full attention again.

“Mob.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just… don’t do it again, okay?” he asked, watching as Mob bit his lip and nodded in agreement. “Some things are personal and… this is one of them. There doesn’t need to be an explanation or anything.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Ha… What am I going to do with you—don’t,” Reigen said, cutting Mob off when his lips parted again with another apology, no doubt. A quick glance at his watch confirmed that he had the perfect excuse to coax Mob into leaving before his anxiety won out and Reigen had a panic attack in front of him. “It’s getting late. You should go home.”

“O-okay… Ah… Thank you for coming to my birthday dinner,” Mob mumbled, gaze sliding from Reigen and off to the side before quickly returning to him again.

To the medication most likely, and Reigen wasn’t foolish enough to believe that this wouldn’t come back up again in some way one day.

Mob would find out about what happened to him and then he would know how disgusting Reigen was, he mused in distress, barely resisting the urge to drop to the cold kitchen tile to curl up and weep.

If there was one thing he had learned, it was that Mob was like a dog with a bone with anything involving him and it was no longer an if, but a when, if Reigen didn’t put a stop to this now.

“I had a good time—I always do. Your family is… They’re amazing,” Reigen rasped, smiling kindly at Mob.

Whose lips quirked up, still wobbling ever the slightest. “Shishou is amazing too.”

“Hmph, yeah, sure. You already got your birthday gift, you don’t need to butter me up anymore,” he teased, guiding Mob towards the front door, where he watched him slide his shoes out and step outside into the chilly night air.

“I don’t think that would be a bad thing,” Mob joked quietly, grinning when Reigen rolled his eyes.

“Heh, don’t encourage me!”

“Mhm, I might have to,” Mob whispered, leaning back on his heels, glancing at the night sky. “Uhm…”

“What?”

“Ah… Uhm, Reigen-shishou… I…”

The alarm that hadn’t stopped blaring since Mob entered his apartment made itself known again. Because the realization he had tried so hard to avoid was just on the cusp of discovery, and Dimple’s words echoed through Reigen’s mind.

(“That’s what I’m worried about,” Dimple grumbled, pulling his hand back when Reigen’s trembling started to ease. “The kid is… ah, obsessed with you. Everyone and their mother can see that.”)

“Mob—”

He wasn’t sure what emotion Mob saw on his face, before his dark eyes darted to look over Reigen’s shoulder and back into his apartment as if he could see that pill bottle from the front door.

Emotions flickered over Mob’s face too fast for him to identify, but whatever he saw on Reigen’s face made his expression smooth out as a decision had been clearly made.

“…Could I have a hug?” Mob asked, shuffling on the spot and rocking back on his heels.

“What? A hug?” he questioned in confusion, gaping up at Mob, whose face was slowly turning red.

Mob blushed harder if possible. “Yes, ah… Uhm, for my birthday?”

“I already got you a gift.”

Reigen thought back to the Hagemon shirt Mob had been gifted with, and the look of delight on his face when he had removed the wrapping paper.

“I know… I just—ah, you don’t have to—”

The rejection was on his lips just as it struck him suddenly that it was always Mob or others giving Reigen hugs, never the other way around.

Something about that made him deeply and unexplainably sad.

Once Reigen has used physical touch as his love language with his precious people without care and now…

He couldn’t remember the last time he initiated a hug.

“Okay,” Reigen said, grinning when Mob stared down at him in surprise.

“Shishou—”

“I said it’s fine, didn’t I?”

Reigen could do this right?

Mob rarely asked for anything, this was the least Reigen could do for yelling and lashing out at him moments ago—for making Mob try to curl in on himself in an attempt to make himself smaller and less than for Reigen’s sake.

The guilt would never leave him, nor would the memory of the hurt awash on Mob’s face.

Maybe Reigen needed this too?

Though, he wouldn’t make it a habit to touch others, even if a part of him wished he could be the Reigen from before. With a sigh, he opened his arms wide, watching Mob shuffle on the spot, running a hand through his hair and peering at Reigen with uncertainty.

“Reigen-shishou, you don’t have to—”

“Mob, come here.”

Just as suddenly he was stumbling as he righted himself again with his arms full of Mob, who wrapped his own arms around Reigen’s waist. For a moment his hands still while his body stiffened, something he knew Mob was acutely aware of with how he started to pull away.

Until Reigen was moving to wrap his arms around Mob’s neck.

That would be the third mistake Reigen made that night by agreeing to hug Mob after everything that had occurred moments ago—willfully and naively following all the crumbs until it was too late.

Somehow it was funny in a dark way that after everything Mob had done—that Reigen would turn a blind eye too—it would be a simple request for a hug that made everything finally click into place.

(“So, it’s okay to… want something—that I shouldn’t want—as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone?” Mob questioned, words soft and just above a whisper, with a desperate longing in his eyes.)

It wasn’t the stares full of love or the longing that lingered in every one of Mob’s touches that made Reigen realize what was going on.

No, it was Mob requesting a simple hug and the way he all but fell into Reigen’s arms that made Reigen finally understand.

(“My parents are unhappy with the decision that I’ve made. I told them I won’t change my mind and that I’ve decided to chase my happiness,” Mob announced, peering down at Reigen with dark eyes filled with an emotion he couldn’t read.)

There was nothing dangerous about Mob, who smelt of everything Reigen adored—none of that earthy, smoky and spicy whispers of danger—and with a quiet sigh, Reigen breathed in Mob’s scent, floral, familiar and soothing.

He pulled away even while Mob’s arms tightened for a moment, making Reigen’s breath hitch and Mob quickly separate himself from him with a deep flush still on his face—even so, Reigen could see the worry and guilt in his eyes.

Mob smiled at him uncertainly. “Thank you, uhm, I’ll see you Monday?”

“Yeah, text me when you get home,” Reigen requested, shoving his shaking hands into the pockets of his blazer.

“Of course, Shishou. Please have a goodnight and thank you for the birthday gifts,” Mob said, turning to head towards the stairwell while Reigen watched on until he was out of sight.

Even with Mob out of sight and long gone, Reigen couldn’t say how long he stood at the genkan after he stepped back inside and locked the door.

It felt like something had finally clicked into place in his mind.

A piece of a missing puzzle he had found—no, that he had this whole time—and had refused to place.

But the puzzle was finally complete, much to his dismay.

No, no… what was he thinking?

Something was wrong with Reigen to think this.

He was sick.

This was Mob he was talking about, wasn’t it? Sweet and kind, who Reigen had known for so long.

Since he was just a child, Reigen reminded himself, thinking of his sweet disciple who protected and doted on him.

What the hell had Reigen been starting to think and believe?

It was sick of him to think of Mob like that—this had to be the same sickness and disease Yamato had seen in him.

Because the fault lied with Reigen for misconstruing Mob’s actions to this extent. It was bad enough that Reigen was tainting Mob by dragging him into his nightmares, but to taint him with these sick thoughts was too much.

Reigen had to be misconstruing things, was what he told himself when he stumbled down the hall and to his kitchen and the counter his prescriptions sat. He ignored the one Mob had grabbed earlier, reaching for another bottle that contained his pills used for moments like this, that was hidden amongst the other clutter on his counters from his morning rush to get ready.

The panic attack that he had been poorly trying to control until Mob left was winning. He couldn’t push it back or ignore it any longer. Not when he scrambled to open it with shaking hands that refused to listen to him.

Yet it ended with the bottle opening, only to clatter to the counter, rolling off and onto the floor where the pills poured out everywhere.

“Shit.”

He should have noticed the sudden familiar scent of rosemary, pimento and rosewood—with a hint of ozone—filling the air suddenly. But his panic and desperation left Reigen breathlessly frazzled.

“What are you doing?” Dimple asked, suddenly appearing at his side and peering down at him in bemusement.

“Uwah! What—Dimple—what are you doing here?” Reigen gasped, one hand splayed over his pounding heart while he attempted to settle his racing breaths.

Dimple scrunched his nose, glancing at him crouched on the floor and then to the pills everywhere, before sneaking a look at the label on the pill bottle with a growing look of realization and concern on his face.

“What am I doing? What are you doing?”

“N-nothing.”

“Reigen, what were you—”

“Nothing!"

This wasn’t fair at all. Couldn’t Reigen get a moment’s reprieve?

He should have never gone to the dinner, if he hadn’t then Mob wouldn’t have found out about his medication—his illness and disease—that he knew had done nothing more than ignite a curiosity in Mob.

The same curiosity he could see burning in Dimple’s eyes now while he eyed him with concern.

“Hey, it’s okay—”

“I-it’s nothing. Just leave it alone! Please.”

Dimple looked as if he would do anything but that as he studied the pills, Reigen was desperately trying to gather with narrowed eyes.

“What’s with all these pills?”

“Dimple,” he wheezed, barely resisting the urge to break down completely.

“You can’t bullshit me like you can with Shigeo.”

He knew Dimple was only asking because he was concerned and the picture Reigen painted with his pills scattered everywhere, with him looking glassy-eyed, panicked and on the brink of a panic attack, didn’t help either.

“What happened?” Dimple asked slowly.

This wasn’t the time to start an argument over Mob and what Reigen had just realized, not when he wasn’t in the right mind, but the words forced their way past his lips.

“When were you going to tell me?” Reigen asked, a touch breathless as his gaze snapped away from the pills and up at Dimple accusingly.

“Reigen—”

“When were you going to tell me about Mob!?”

He sounded hysterical to his own ears, voice hitching and breaking, while the tears won and blurred his vision. Reigen would feel bad about this later, because Dimple had only come to check up on him…

For reason Reigen was now intimately aware of.

“So, he told you, huh?” Dimple sighed, a frown tugging at his lips.

“No.”

Dimple squinted at him in confusion. “You just said that he did?”

“He didn’t, but… Why?” Reigen gasped, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes while his emotions ran wild. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“How could I?” Dimple grumbled, making Reigen pulled his hands away from his teary and swollen eyes to glare at Dimple. “Seriously—trust me—I wanted to… But I couldn’t. Not when I promised Shigeo.”

“Hah… I can’t believe this. This isn’t happening,” Reigen whimpered, chest rattling with sobs he struggled to swallow down.

Was he losing it?

This couldn’t be happening to him, right?

“Hey, it’s okay!”

“No, it’s not! I did this,” he bemoaned pitifully as the dam finally broken and he began to weep earnestly. “Something is wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you!"

“I did this!”

“Whoa—no—Reigen, I know what you’re thinking. You didn’t! You would never.”

“I did! This is my fault,” he choked out, one hand clutching at his hair, while the other covered his mouth when his stomached churned. “I’m sick… Sick, sick, sick—”

“Hey, hey, listen—shh, breathe. You gotta breathe, Reigen.”

Reigen tried, but a nightmare consumed his mind, flashing through every memory and interaction with Mob since their first meeting. Looking and searching for something to figure out where this all had started; he had to have—

“I groomed him!”

Dimple made an odd choking sound, shaking his head desperately and fluttering down closer to him. “No! Reigen, listen to me. Please. Yes, come on, you gotta breathe.”

“What’s wrong with me?”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Dimple pled, floating closer to him, attempting to bring him back to the here and now. “You’re perfect the way you are. Just please, breathe.”

“I ruined him.”

In the end, Reigen had to be broken, because something was wrong with him inherently at his core. He had to have done something to Mob to make him like this—to make him want Reigen.

“Listen to me—”

“I’m sick.”

Reigen was an illness and disease that threatened everything around him. Was what happened with Yamato his fault as well? It had to have been for this to keep happening to him—

“Reigen!” he jolted at Dimple’s shout, gazing darting towards him with a quiet sob. “Get a hold of yourself. You’re gonna make yourself sick.”

“D-Dimple,” Reigen croaked.

No, he was pleading, even though he wasn’t sure what he was hoping for. Dimple drifted closer t settle beside him on the cool tile and when had Reigen ended up here? Wasn’t he supposed to put his medication away, but somehow, he had ended up laying on the floor with tears choking him.

“It’s okay, just… take deep breaths… Ah, tell me about those desserts you like from that bakery you and Katsuya go to.”

Reigen tried his best to see Dimple’s request through, listing all the things he had tried from the bakery, even while his breath hitched, and he struggled to make his mouth move.

He spoke until exhaustion overcame him, and his quiet sniffles filled the apartment as he struggled to stay awake. It could have been hours or minutes, but his eyes finally fell shut to the sound of Dimple speaking from where he hadn’t left his side.

“You’ll get through this, okay? I’m here for you.”

Chapter Text

It was the first time in ages that he had a dreamless sleep that wasn’t plagued by hands taking him apart and Mob’s sadness. With a yawn, Reigen shifted in bed, turning to his side to glance at the clock on his nightstand through bleary eyes.

The time that met his gaze had his heart dropping as bolted to sit up—the last thing he needed was to be late to the office and have angry customers awaiting, even if Serizawa would have shown up shortly after him anyway.

Though the thought fell away when the previous night came back to him suddenly when he moved to get out of bed.

Dimple had found him in a sorry state after…

Ah, right… Mob’s feelings were something Reigen was no longer blind to.

He knew he was a failure for ignoring Mob’s feelings for him, all while knowing what the look in those dark eyes meant this entire time. Reigen had been willfully ignorant, hoping fruitlessly that he was wrong and pretending he didn’t see nor hear the absolute adoration in Mob’s glances and words.

All because he couldn’t handle the thought of corrupting Mob, nor could Reigen bear the thought of being wanted in such a way by Mob.

Not when he could barely stand to look at himself.

The thought of being wanted and desired by Mob made Reigen sick to his stomach. His stomach churned, threatening to make him vomit all over himself just as a woman, with shoulder length black hair, a kind face and a simple black knit dress, stepped into his room carrying a tray, making Reigen freeze.

“Oy, Reigen. What are you thinking of doing with that bat? Don’t damage the merchandise,” the woman—Dimple—spoke with a frown. “I’m just borrowing her for now. I don’t need you messing this body up.”

“Dimple!” he gasped, releasing the bat with a relieved sigh, body untensing and falling back against the headboard of his bed.

Dimple smirked, stepping closer until he was next to Reigen’s bed. “I don’t know why you’re scared when the scariest thing here is your face.”

Even with the woman Dimple had possessed, who smelt of something sweet and like strawberry candy, Reigen could still smell Dimple’s familiar scent of rosemary, pimento and rosewood mixed with a hint of ozone.

It soothed him as much as it could, making the patter of his heart ease to a kinder pace.

“Oh my god, really? I don’t need this first thing in the morning.”

Reigen rolled his eyes, body still shuddering from the adrenaline, hands fiddling with the sleeve of his white turtleneck before wiping clammy palms on his slacks from yesterday. It was a relief he hadn’t tried to change him out of his clothes into something else.

There would be too many questions asked if he saw the state of his body and the scar on his neck.

“You looked like shit yesterday—well, you still do—what the hell happened?” Dimple asked, while Reigen looked away from his search stare at the tray in his hand that had a glass of water and a bowl full of okayu.

“Wow, thanks… Didn’t I tell you not to come around without a heads up?” Reigen grumbled instead of answering Dimple’s question.

The last thing he wanted was to have to deal with what happened last night and with Dimple’s questions.

“Someone had to check up on you.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Reigen knew the reason, but he needed to hear it from Dimple. “Why did you come by yesterday?”

“Huh, damn. Don’t get too excited to see me then.”

“Dimple.”

Dimple sighed, the water threatening to spill out of the glass when he shifted from one foot to the other in discomfort.

“Ugh, I just wanted to check in and see how the dinner went.”

“It was fine,” he grumbled, if you didn’t count having a breakdown and passing out.

Tough Reigen kept those comments to himself, instead focusing on plucking at the loose threads on his blanket when Dimple sat down on the bed after setting the tray on the nightstand.

“Did it now? I swear you look worse every time I see you.”

“You never have anything nice to say to me, do you?”

Dimple sighed in exasperation, leaning back on the bed with two hands and crossing his legs. A glance at his host again, a short woman now that Reigen got a closer look at her with a bob, had Reigen pursing his lips in curiosity.

“What’s with this new host? Where’s Yoshioka?”

“He was busy, so I had to find a new one last minute. And, well… You seem more comfortable around… women,” Dimple shrugged his shoulders, even while dread took Reigen’s breath away. Had he been that obvious that Dimple had noticed? If Dimple had noticed, then who else had? “You were totally out of it yesterday. Last thing I wanted to do was freak you out more by having you wake up to some guy in your place.”

“Oh.”

Dimple’s lips pressed into a thin line, before he reached to grab the tray to set it on Reigen’s laps.

“I’m serious. You don’t look so good. What happened?”

“Nothing,” Reigen groused, eyeing the okayu and glass of water.

“Do you think I’m an idiot or something?”

“I mean, well… Yeah.”

With a sigh, Dimple crossed his arms and levelled him with an unamused look. “Reigen.”

There was no getting out of this, Reigen reflected, knowing that he had to give Dimple something to get him to drop the top.

“It was okay. His parents were as nice as always, even Ritsu was on his best behaviour—well, as nice as that brat can be—and we had dinner, cut the cake and I went home or… Well, Mob walked me home. Seriously, he needs to stop doing that, by the way.”

“And that’s it? He walked you home and nothing else happened?” at Reigen’s silence Dimple leaned closer with a frown. “Did something happen? What did he—”

“How long?” Reigen asked, cutting Dimple off, gaze drifting from the glass of water and okayu to Dimple.

Dimple shrugged his shoulder with a strange twist to his lips. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

A part of him found that hard to believe.

What were the chances that Mob hadn’t told Dimple about how long he had been harbouring these feelings for Reigen?

Though he dropped it for now, exhaustion wearing at him and having no desire to pry further information out of Dimple.

“You look like you’re one thread away from collapsing. Last thing you needed was him to drop this bomb on you,” Dimple muttered, picking at his host’s nails. “I told him not to tell you.”

“So, everyone but me knows then.”

It wasn’t a question, but a statement.

Dimple licked his lips, glancing from his hands and to Reigen with a grimace. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. Why would you even think Shige-chan would like you in the first place—it would be weird to even consider, right?”

“I think a part of me already knew about, ah… that,” Reigen admitted, gaze scurrying away from Dimple’s, fearful of the judgement he would find within them. “That… that it wasn’t the guilt causing Mob to act like this and… and I just didn’t want to see it—or face it. I kept telling myself Mob was being protective because of what happened and… and because I…”

Haven’t been doing well, he almost wanted to say, choosing to bite the inside of his cheek instead. Though Dimple understood, nodding his head slowly before speaking.

“I can’t blame you. Shige-chan… he’s trying—really—but I don’t think he understands how to help you. He wants to—he knows something is up—but he’s naive. You’re his entire world, you know that?”

Reigen was at a loss for words, swallowing the lump in his throat and focusing on the bowl of okayu again. He took the spoon in a shaking hand that Dimple pretended he didn’t see, to take the first bite while Dimple continued speaking.

"I kind of feel bad for the kid. He looked like he was going to cry when you said you had plans for White Day."

The realization hit Reigen in that moment as the memory of Mob coming closer flickered through his mind. He had been so fixated on Mob’s looming figure that Reigen had failed to fully take in the hurt and heartbroken expression on his face.

How could he have ignored the way Mob’s hands shook along with the tremble in his voice while he stumbled over his words with hurt soaked into his every breath?

“What… what did you see that day at the office?”

Dimple tilted his head in confusion when Reigen peered at him again. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“What was Mob doing before I… You know,” Reigen waved a slender hand in the air, hoping Dimple wouldn’t make him say he had all but collapsed after Mob left.

“Uh… I don’t know. Like I said, he looked like he was gonna cry. But then you… Ah, you looked like you were gonna pass out. And well, you freaked as soon as he tried to help.”

Reigen could see it now how the trauma had warped his sense of self into something he could no longer recognize—stripping him of not only his sense of safety and self, but his relationship with others only of his sense of safety and being, but his relationship with others.

He wasn’t sure where things stood with Mob now, not when he could barely understand who he was anymore and when he felt as if someone had lifted the blinds from his eyes.

(“—who?”

“What?” he asked, refocusing his attention on Mob, and startling at the expression he found on his face. Mob looked devastatingly shattered, hurt clear as day on his face, hands trembling at his side and suspiciously wet eyes staring at Reigen with desperate longing.)

The office had become his coffin and burial grounds—Yamato had killed who Reigen once was. He wasn’t seeing Mob clearly, whose actions were harmless and awkward at best.

How could he have not taken noticed of Mob tripping over his words, face flushed and all but falling over himself when Reigen so much as smiled at him?

Licking his lips and swallowing down another bite of okayu, Reigen parted his lips to speak once more. “How does he usually act around me?”

Dimple squinted at him, expression incredulous, “What kind of question is that?”

“Humour me.”

“He’s honestly kind of embarrassing to watch. The kid isn’t a Casanova, that’s for sure,” Dimple joked, chuckling softly as his face scrunched n thought while he thought back on Mob’s behaviour around Reigen. “He’s totally head over heels for you. It’s kind of gross how sappy he is? He acts like if he so much as sneezes in your direction, you’ll break.”

(“But Shishou—”

“I said no,” Reigen said, stepping back and away from his desk—away from Mob, whose face was pinched in concern—all while Mob shared an alarmed look with Dimple as he slowly stepped towards Reigen with his hands raised as if trying to soothe a startled animal.)

Mob whose arms trembled and breath hitched last night when he attempted to confess with his face red and eyes bright—nothing like the looming figure Reigen’s mind kept tricking him into seeing.

(“Why?” Mob questioned so earnestly, tattered heart on his sleeve.

It felt like Reigen’s patience was burning at both ends, as the rope frayed and the walls started to close in with each step Mob took. Though Mob paused a distance from him, biting his lip in worry while calling out to him in a desperate attempt to pull Reigen from the nightmare he had fallen into once more.)

He was seeing Yamato, not Mob—tarnishing all his memories of Mob and seeing danger everywhere he went. Yamato had killed Reigen, the person he had been and who he would have become, poisoning his relationship with everyone and Mob.

(“Mob,” he choked out, stepping back further from where Mob shrunk back in on himself.

Making Reigen’s heart weep for making Mob try to curl in on himself—for being the reason that Mob stared at him with wide eyes barely keeping tears at bay. Reigen had been so oblivious to the world around him since Yamato and had made Mob the enemy in this nightmare he had been living in for so long)

Reigen could see it now with how everyone treated him like glass, and he flinched away from them as if they meant him harm. Once upon a time he would never recoil from others, least of all Mob’s or his friends.

Mob’s warmth was something he welcome in the past.

When had things changed so much?

No, that wasn’t right, was it?

He knew when things had changed, but how could he have been so unaware of the way he treated Mob? Who he would allow to tuck his head against his shoulder or train or bus rides home after a late-night case, to sharing hotel rooms together without a case.

(“It’s fine. Please keep it on,” Mob whispered, smiling down at Reigen through the open car door, dark eyes crinkling with barely concealed happiness. His gaze never left Reigen, nor where the jacket sat on his shoulders like a comforting shield and barrier. Unbidden, his mind flickered back to a yellow raincoat and—)

Once Reigen would have leaned into the safety Mob exuded, rather than tearing himself out of his grasp with fear clutching at his throat.

When had Reigen started to see danger in Mob when there was nothing to fear?

(“Are we going to pretend that you’re not afraid of me!” Mob breathlessly said with a voice full of desperation and hurt while raking a shaky hand through his dark hair. “You’re scared of me, Shishou! And I don’t know why—oh… It’s… it’s my powers… They scare you—I scare you.”)

Despite his crush, Mob had been courteous, if not awkward and earnest. He worked diligently with the others to care for Reigen, making sure he ate and rested, rather than continuing to waste away before them.

(“You’re afraid I’ll hurt you again,” Mob uttered softly in resignation, almost too quiet to be heard.)

Why would Mob even have thought there was an issue when Reigen had said nothing, keeping his lips sealed despite everyone’s attempts to uncover his greatest shame?

It was Reigen who had changed and died that day—he had been reborn from the rotting carcass Yamato left behind.

(“Shishou,” Mob croaked, leaning down to press his forehead to Reigen’s. “Please… please, tell me what’s wrong. Let me help you.”)

There was a lot left to be desired when it came to Mob’s awkward and bumbling attempts to woo another crush, but the shame washing over Reigen would have been enough to make him fall to his knees if he weren’t already in bed.

When had Mob become the looming figure from his nightmares, and how could Reigen have allowed it?

(“Shishou…” Mob sounded so resigned and hurt at his silence. Reigen could only clench his jaw to resist the urge to crumple into a heap and beg Mob to stay. “You’re killing me, you know that?”)

Though was that even a question that needed to be asked?

The Reigen from before no longer existed.

He had been shattered in millions of pieces that Mob and the others desperately tried to put back together again.

“Mob thinks I’m scared of him,” Reigen croaked, spoon trembling in his hand and making the okayu drop back in the bowl.

Dimple studied him silently, expression blank and gaze heavy as he spoke. “Aren’t you?”

“No… not him. Never Mob, but…”

He trailed off, struggling to figure out how he could even possibly consider telling Dimple it wasn’t Mob he feared, but the monster who had torn him apart so long ago until Reigen could no longer take a breath without remembering the touch of his hands and breath against his skin.

“Despite Shige-chan’s powers and his growth spurt, he’s harmless,” Dimple stated, eyeing the okayu and silently encouraging Reigen to eat more. “The kid has the looks of a movie star, but zero game… He wants to be patient, but I think Shige-chan is worried you’re going to get taken when he’s not looking.”

Reigen choked on his food, taking a sip of water before clearing his throat and giving Dimple a bemused look. “Stolen by who?”

Dimple shrugged, clearly at a loss. “Who knows?”

“Ha… If things had been different, I would have let him down gently and… and it would be fine,” he said, the glass of water clenched in his hand while his thoughts ran wild. Oh, how Reigen wished things had been different—that he had been different. “I would have teased him a bit, you know? But things would be normal!”

“Reigen—”

“I wouldn’t be scared, and Mob wouldn’t think I’m scared of him!” his chest rattled with sobs that he swallowed down tearfully. “I’m so tired, Dimple.”

For a moment, Dimple simply studied him in silence before speaking. “You know you can tell me what happened.”

Frustration tore through him at being pushed for answers once again that he didn’t want to give, making Reigen frown and glare at Dimple half-heartedly.

“Why are you still here? You already saw what happened yesterday. What else is there to see? It’s not like you had to stay with me in the first place—”

“You think I’m gonna just leave you after what happened?” Dimple groused, his own frustration overflowing, and at Reigen’s silence, he sighed wearily. “How long have you been taking those pills?”

“You snooped? What the hell?!”

“I didn’t have any other choice! You looked like hell froze over. What else was I supposed to think when I found you panicking with all those pills around you?”

Reigen’s words caught in his throat at Dimple’s concern, whose hands were clenched into fists on his lap while he pondered what picture he had painted to Dimple when he stumbled upon him yesterday.

“I can’t keep watching this!” Dimple snapped, brows pinched and gazed locked onto him. “We’ve all been watching you waste away in front of us for too long!”

“Then don’t!”

Dimple flinched back as if slapped with hurt clear in his words. “Don’t say that! Do you really think that low of me—of us—that we would just let you…”

Though Dimple’s words trailed off, Reigen knew what he wanted to say. Everyone was worried. There was no denying that, and Dimple was here because he cared. Even so, he couldn’t get his lips to move to apologize or stop this situation from devolving further.

“I’m barely able to keep the others back. It would have been me or Shigeo having this conversation with you at some point…. Reigen, please, you’re not well. Everyone can see that—you must realize that,” Dimple implored, hands twitching to grasp at where Reigen’s now laid on his own lap, having set the glass of water back on the tray. “Let me help you. Whatever this is—whatever is happening—let us help.”

“Why do you even care?”

“Because I care about you, you idiot!” Dimple snarled, voice cracking as he coughed to hide what sounded like a sob. “I don’t need you joining me in the afterlife so soon. Seeing your face now is enough. I can’t imagine an eternity of it.”

How could Reigen tell Dimple that his nightmares were plagued by Yamato taking him apart and Mob as the audience to his desecration?

But more than that, how could Reigen tell Dimple he had had allowed Yamato to hurt him, and he deserved all the punishments the world decided to sentence him to?

“You can’t keep going on like this. You’re killing yourself,” Dimple continued, wide-eyed and finally reaching to hold Reigen’s hands. He allowed it to happen, watching silently while small hands laid over his own. “I can’t sit by and do nothing.”

This was his chance to come clean about his shame and finally tell someone what happened to him, Reigen thought fearfully, licking his lips and trying to will himself to speak.

The longer the silence went, the sadder Dimple looked, face crumpling until he gently pulled his hands away from Reigen’s with a quiet sigh as he moved to stand.

“I’ll get you more water—”

“I was raped,” he whispered, almost too softly to be heard.

Dimple froze, mouth hanging open while confusion, shock, horror, anger and then finally understanding settled over his face.

“Reigen…”

“Ha, surprised?” Reigen muttered, shifting uncomfortably, grasping the tray to keep it from falling.

“I-it’s—no—I knew something happened after the conference… Uh… That’s when it happened, right?” Dimple asked, glancing at Reigen, who nodded. “It… just isn’t the first thing that would come to mind, you know?”

Reigen bit the inside of his cheek, glancing away from Dimple back to his okayu while his thoughts raced.

Was Dimple disgusted with him?

Angry?

Annoyed?

Or something worse?

“—who?” at Dimple's question, he glanced up at him to find his fists clenched in his lap once more.

“What?” he asked, blinking dazedly at Dimple.

Dimple looked furious with his lips pressed into a thin line. “Who was it?”

“No,” Reigen choked out, shaking his head while Dimple looked on with growing alarm. “Please—”

“Reigen…"

“Don’t make me say anymore,” Reigen pleaded, pressing a shaking hand over his mouth when nausea bubbled in his stomach. “Please, Dimple.”

“Ah—shit—it’s okay, you don’t have to!” Dimple placated, brows furrowed in concern, when Reigen shuddered and tried to swallow back tears. “I’m here for you—we all are—and you need to know it’s okay to cry. Don’t hold it in anymore.”

Like a dam breaking, once the first tear fell, Reigen couldn’t stop his wails. Dimple took the tray off his lap, setting it on the nightstand before sitting down on the bed again and holding Reigen’s hands.

He couldn’t stop his tears, holding onto those dainty hands like a lifeline and leaning over to press his forehead to them while he wept.

“It’s okay. Let it all out. You’re gonna be okay,” Dimple murmured, easing one hand out of Reigen’s to rake it through his hair in an attempt to soothe him. “This isn’t something you have to deal with on your own anymore.”

Reigen’s heart was overflowing with so much love it hurt.

Was it okay for him to savour this moment of love, warmth, and safety as much as he could?

It had been so long since he felt so safe and protected.

So, he allowed himself this one allowance and held onto Dimple’s hand harder, until time passed and with it, his sobs slowed down until he could finally breathe without feeling as if his lungs were going to burst.

His eyes ached, and he sniffled, shifting to sit up again, releasing Dimple’s hand and taking the issued over to him to wipe his nose.

“Ah… Thank you, and—sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Dimple muttered with a despairing expression. “You… Uhm, you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to—you can tell me to beat it—but…”

When Dimple said nothing after a moment, he blinked blearily at him in confusion. “But?”

“Did you… Ah… Were you able to see a doctor… or report it?”

At Dimple’s question, Reigen paused, bringing a trembling hand to press against his neck and over the scar. He wasn’t sure how to answer Dimple or if he even could. Though looking at Dimple now—who was staring at Reigen with such concern and anguish—he couldn’t help but honestly answer him.

“I… I did. The bleeding wouldn’t stop and my neck…” Reigen mumbled, hand still pressed over the scar on his neck, hidden beneath his turtleneck.

“Your neck?” Dimple echoed in confusion, eyes straying to where Reigen’s hand was still on his throat. “…Don’t force yourself. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

Reigen licked his lips, unable to force himself to say more on the matter. “Thank you.”

“At least your doctor knows.”

“Yeah… Uh, it took awhile. I mean…” Reigen knew Dimple wasn’t judging him for needing medication or that happened to him, but it was something he himself still struggled to accept. “It took awhile to get the right medication and dosage. But it’s helping a little.”

Dimple gave him a small smile. “Well, I’m proud of you.”

“Hah, for what—getting raped?”

“No! For going to the doctor and pushing through—for telling me—and you’re stronger than you think you are, Reigen.”

He hummed softly, uncomfortable with the sincerity in Dimple’s words. “Heh, I think I should be asking you if you’re okay with how nice you’re being to me.”

“Hey, I’m not a complete asshole.”

“Hmph, sure you aren’t,” Reigen teased, before answering Dimple’s second question. “And no… I didn’t."

“Didn’t want?”

“I didn’t report it… H-how could I have?”

“…You don’t have to if you didn’t—or don’t—want to,” Dimple tried to placate him, continuing when Reigen shrugged at his words. “No one is going to think any less of you, alright?”

At thought of anyone else knowing or having their own opinions on this, he thought of Mob and his heart ached. What would Mob think?

Could Reigen ever bear to ask?

With that, he lurched forward, grabbing Dimple’s hand that laid on the bed desperately. “Don’t tell Mob—please.”

Dimple gave him a wide-eyed look, shaking his head with a huff seconds later. “Do you think I’m crazy? There’s no way I’d tell the kid this! My lips are sealed. I’ll take this to the grave.”

“How would that even work?” Reigen muttered, sagging back against the headboard in relief, eyelids heavy while exhaustion was starting to win.

“Hm, who knows,” Dimple said with a shrug, standing to his feet and grabbing the tray with the empty dishes at the sight of Reigen struggling to stay awake. “Listen, I gotta get this body to her home. But I’ll be back. Will you be okay while I’m gone?”

Hadn’t he been managing fine on his own this entire time, Reigen mused, before realizing that wasn’t true at all.

He wasn’t well, was he?

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” was what he said instead with a grim smile.

Dimple eyed silently for a moment, as if thinking back on yesterday at the state he had found Reigen in surrounded by his pills. It stung a bit to even think that was Dimple’s train of thought, but he couldn’t blame him.

The words fall from his lips unbidden, while Reigen wondered who he was trying to convince, Dimple or himself?

“I wouldn’t do that to Mob.”

That clearly wasn’t the right thing to say with the look Dimple shot him, waving a hand at the tray to let it float in the direction of the kitchen near the entrance to Reigen’s apartment, down the hall from his room and living area.

“That’s part of the problem, isn’t it? I’m glad you wouldn’t, but you should do it for yourself and not Shigeo.”

Reigen knew he should care and live for himself, searching for what made him happy, rather than others or Mob. Even so, he wouldn’t be able to when Yamato had stripped any care and love for himself when he stole his dignity.

Then, how could he tell Dimple that everything he did was for Mob because Reigen didn’t care what happened to himself anymore? But Reigen had always been a coward and so he said nothing with his eyes shying away from Dimple’s searching look.

Dimple sighed quietly, pausing before he stepped out of the room to leave. “Get some rest while I’m gone. I’ll be back soon.”

He nodded, looking in the direction Dimple had disappeared, when he heard the front door click shut.

Would he ever be able to bear the weight of his own lies, Reigen mused, clenching his eyes shut and trying to force himself to sleep while hoping for things to return to normal.

In a way, things chugged along like normal, despite Reigen waiting for the anvil to drop on his head.

Monday came by faster than Reigen wanted it to, with Dimple becoming his ever-present shadow trailing behind him as they entered the office with green tea held in his hand from a local café.

Though he hadn’t said it yet, Reigen was grateful Dimple stayed at his side over the weekend and who he had let dote on him in his own way. Like he did now in Yoshioka’s body, opening the office door to usher Reigen inside.

Reigen hung his thin beige jacket on the coat rack by the door—he somehow seemed prone to getting sick easier now for reasons he struggled to grasp despite knowing the reason in the back of his mind—before smoothing the wrinkles out of his white turtleneck and grey slacks with a quiet sigh before peering at Dimple.

“Looks like Shige-chan isn’t here yet,” Dimple said, glancing around the empty office.

Dimple kept him from spiralling again anytime his thoughts went back to Yamato or Mob and his attempted confession. To the true meaning behind the love in Mob’s eyes, Reigen had deliberately ignored until reality shattered his world.

The realization of how stained his view of the world was—that Reigen allowed his own trauma to warp and bend his relationship with Mob—weighed on him heavily.

How much had he hurt Mob by treating and viewing him as if he was the one who had torn Reigen apart?

Upon deeper reflection since his conversation with Dimple, he was finally grasping how deeply he had been spiralling, seeing nothing but shadows and hands that meant to hurt him when there weren’t any.

“It’s fine,” he said, heading to his desk, setting his tea on it before taking a seat and slanting a look out the window to the gloomy weather.

“Is it really?”

“We’re not supposed to meet the client until…” Reigen squinted at the calendar on his laptop. Though the thought of seeing Mob so soon after what happened made him anxious, he was grateful to have him still come to the office to help. “Four, so there’s plenty of time.”

“That’s not what I was asking about, but okay?”

“Mhm.”

“Reigen, seriously. Are you going to be okay with just you and Shigeo here today?” Dimple pressed, closing the door to make his way to the couch that sat down on before peering at him with concern. Uncaring of the wrinkles he left in Yoshioka’s black suit. “I can tell Teru I need to take a rain check or—”

“It’s okay,” he shrugged, earning him another look from Dimple, making him try to soothe him in what way he could. “Really. This client can only meet us today, and Serizawa’s gone to class, so…”

“I don’t like this.”

“You don’t have to, but… it’s Mob. There’s nothing to be scared about.”

“Pfft, I know that. The kid treats you like you’re made of glass, even if he’s so awkward with you it hurts. You’d think he would have gotten a bit more… suave, you know?”

Though he snorted at Dimple’s words, he couldn’t help fixating on them. The guilt was hard to ignore with how he had viewed all of Mob’s actions—his attempts to care for and help Reigen.

Glancing off to the side, he reached for his steaming tea to blow at it softly. “Eh… He means well. I just hope he gets over whatever this is soon.”

Dimple paused, searching his face in confusion. “Yeah, get over it… Right… I don’t know about that.”

“He got over that girl… Ah… What was her name again? Tsubomi!” snapping his fingers, Reigen glanced at Dimple, who stared back in amusement. “Mob liked her for what… like forever?”

“You and I both know this is different.”

It surely was, and that was what made things worse.

Because Reigen had done something to make Mob like him—to even consider his own shishou a viable dating prospect—and he couldn’t understand where he had gone wrong.

With a sigh, his lips twisted, his free hand twitching with the desire to grab his neck when his lips moved without his say so.

“This is my fault.”

“It’s not. Don’t say that. You didn’t do any of what you’re thinking. Seriously. I know you’re an idiot, but you’re not this dumb,” Dimple drawled from the couch, while Reigen readied himself to refute those words.

“I should have noticed earlier—or done something different.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know…”

“Reigen, you’re acting like you snatched Shige-chan up in a white van after offering him candy.”

“This isn’t funny! Don’t joke about this,” Reigen snapped, slamming his still untouched tea on the desk, hissing when some splattered through the small mouth hole and onto his hand. “Ouch! Why is this still so hot?”

Dimple quirked a brow. “Hmph, I’m not, but you gotta admit… It kind of is.”

“You’re such a jerk.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Dimple placated, running a hand through his hair. “I meant what I said. You didn’t do anything. This is all Shigeo.”

Reigen said nothing, drained already from having to think of this all weekend and wondering if he was terrible for choosing to ignore it while hoping Mob would find himself a lovely girl to date rather that confessing to Reigen again.

“Reigen?”

A sigh slipped past Reigen’s lips. A glance at the clock let him know they still had plenty of time left. “I know… I’m just tired.”

“I’m sorry,” Dimple apologized, clarifying further with regret on his face at the confusion on Reigen’s. “I should have done—or said—something before. I knew something was wrong and—”

“I wouldn’t have accepted it—your help,” Reigen admitted, cutting Dimple off.

Dimple’s brows furrowed, shoulders drooping, before he sighed in resignation. “Yeah, you’re right. I know you wouldn’t have, but… still.”

“It’s okay. Thank you for being here for me this whole time, even with how I acted…”

“You don’t have to thank me. I may be an asshole, but…” Dimple flushed, clearing his throat in discomfort. “I take care of what’s mine and you all are my family.”

Reigen grinned at the love Dimple felt so comfortable sharing and admitting to him, parting his lips to thank him, only to be cut off by the office door clicking open.

That had his body tensing before Mob stepped through.

“Shishou,” Mob greeted, nodding at Dimple when he passed him to put his schoolbag on his desk. “I’m sorry I’m late. I was on cleaning duty, and it took longer than expected.”

“Mah, you don’t have to apologize to this cheapskate,” Dimple laughed, ducking the pen Reigen threw his way. “He should be thankful you’re helping him out at all.”

He rolled his eyes and turned to Mob with a small smile. “It’s fine, Mob. Thanks for coming so last minute. You’re sure it’s fine though? If you have cram school or—”

“It’s fine.”

Sharing a look with Dimple, who had tucked the pen behind his ear with a shrug, Reigen nodded slowly.

“Well, if you say so.”

Despite the bravado he had showed Dimple, awkwardness settled in Reigen’s gut. He had thought about how to deal with this—with Mob—and had decided ignoring it was his only option.

Even so, he couldn’t muffle the anxiety within him that had him fidgeting with the collar of his turtleneck and standing to his feet.

“Ah, I’m gonna make some tea. Do either of you want any?”

Dimple and Mob both glance at his still steaming cup of tea, though they don’t point it out, much to Reigen’s relief.

“No, I’m okay. Thank you for asking.”

“Nah, I’m good. I’m heading out in a few minutes, anyway.”

Humming softly, he headed towards the kitchenette close to the entrance to the office, where he turned kettle on after pulling out a cup he filled with a bit of sugar and matcha tea bag from the cabinet.

While he waited for the water to boil, he strained his ears guiltily when he heard Mob and Dimple speaking from the other room.

“—did you go after we spoke on Sunday?”

“Mhm, here and there.”

“Dimple.”

“I was with Reigen.”

“Oh… Ah, you stayed the weekend with Shishou?”

“Don’t be a brat. Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, kid.”

“Is… is he okay?” Mob asked, voice quiet, and a moment later he added. “And I’m not a kid.”

“Sure, you aren’t,” Dimple laughed, and Reigen could only imagine the look of annoyance on Mob’s face at that. “And he’s the same as always. Just remember what we talked about, okay?”

Should he be annoyed they were speaking about him—here and elsewhere—though Reigen couldn’t find himself to muster the energy to care. All he wanted was to get the day over with so he could go home and hide under his blankets, Reigen thought, pouring the boiling water in his teacup to steep.

“Yes, and… Uhm, thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being there for Shishou and… for me.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“I do. I… I don’t know what to do, Dimple! He’s scared of everything—of me—and I just want to help him.”

This conversation between Mob and Dimple only showed him how deeply his actions had affected his precious people. They were worried for him, desperately so, and Reigen wished he could ease their concern with a snap of his fingers.

“I know that, and Reigen knows that, too. Don’t beat yourself up over this. You’re still just a kid.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“Shigeo, you are. Seriously. You might think you’re all grown up and mature. But you’re not. Sometimes it’s better to leave things to the adults.”

“But… I want to help him.”

“You are, kid—really—trust me on this, okay?” Dimple mumbled, making Reigen strain his ears more to listen in.

He really shouldn’t be intruding, Reigen mused, carefully taking the tea bag out and throwing it in the trash. The guilt won over in the end; he didn’t want to intrude on a conversation he wasn’t supposed to hear.

Reigen stepped out of the kitchenette, making his way to his desk again while wrinkling his nose at Dimple when he passed him, who sucked his teeth in response to the look.

“You’re still here?”

“Hmph, don’t act like you don’t love to have me around.”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

Dimple let out a snort, rolling his eyes and pushing off the couch to head to the office door. “Sheesh, I can tell when I’m not wanted.”

“Where did you even get the idea in the first place?”

“Whatever. Don’t miss me too much while I’m gone,” Dimple crooned, giving Reigen an enormous smile and winking at Mob. “See you two later. Make sure you take care of this old fart, Shige-chan. I don’t need to hear him whining about breaking a nail.”

“Get out of here!”

The stress ball bounced off the door when it slammed shut behind a laughing Dimple. Reigen set his cup of matcha tea beside his still steaming takeaway cup of green tea before flopping down in his chair with a sigh.

“He’s such a menace,” Reigen grumbled.

From his desk, Mob nodded, fidgeting with his hands in his lap and gnawing on his lip. Reigen could tell that there was something Mob wanted to say with the way he avoided his eyes.

Ah… He could truly see Mob now and not the looming figure from his nightmares.

He watched Mob fiddle with the sleeves of his gakuran, shifting in discomfort the longer the silence grew between them, until Reigen forced himself to break it first.

“So… how’s school been?”

“It’s been okay. Cram school is a lot, but it’s helping.”

“Mhm, that’s good to hear.”

“…You’re sure it’s fine to help out today? You don’t have any tests or exams to study for?”

“It’s fine.”

“Hmph, just making sure.”

Mob rolled his eyes fondly, lips quirking and when had Reigen stopped seeing this? How had he allowed Yamato to take this from him?

This wasn’t fair, not to him or Mob.

The question now lied in whether Reigen wanted to avoid asking Mob what was on his mind. But avoiding this all was what led to the incident on Mob’s birthday in the first place.

A part of him feared by bringing the incident up, he would have Mob confessing again.

The sight of dark circles under Mob’s eyes had his worry winning out and Reigen asking, despite his worries.

“What’s wrong?”

Eyes widening while searching Reigen’s face, Mob jolted. “Huh? Ah, w-what do you mean?”

Reigen quirked an eyebrow, pursing his lips and hoping the mask he donned today didn’t look at brittle as it felt.

“You look like you have something you want to say and… you don’t look like you’ve been sleeping well either.”

“H…”

Mob hummed quietly, pressing his lips together while Reigen sipped his tea and waited in apprehension for what Mob would have to say.

“It’s…”

Maybe it would have been better for Reigen not to have asked at all with how Mob’s distress seemed to rise with each second.

“You don’t need to say anything if you don’t want to,” he said, setting his cup on the table.

“I do. I need to say this,” Mob shook his head, clenching his pants in a white-knuckled grasp. “I’m… I’m sorry, Shishou.”

“Sorry? For what?”

Reigen watched in guilt as Mob’s voice cracked and trembled. “For before. I pushed when I shouldn’t have, and… and it wasn’t right of me. I’m sorry.”

“Mob…”

A dark and malicious part that Reigen wished didn’t exist within him wanted to kill Yamato. He wished he could go back in time to stop himself from meeting that monster in the first place.

“—and for pushing you about White Day.”

Or perhaps Reigen could go back further and stop himself from speaking those cruel words to Mob that made him leave, because that was what caused all this, wasn’t it?

“I’m sorry for—”

“Shigeo!”

Mob’s mouth clicked shut in surprised as he watched him with wide and glassy eyes. Reigen’s heart hurt at the sight of Mob’s tears, because he had been the one to cause that.

Maybe he should go back further then, rewinding time to a point where he never opened the office and, in turn, would avoid meeting Yamato completely?

But he couldn’t do that because he wouldn’t have met Mob and the thought of that broke him in a way Yamato never could.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Reigen whispered, pushing his seat back to make his way to Mob.

Where he crouched down in front of him, reaching out slowly, he took Mob’s hands in his own and gentle forced them to unclench to allow Reigen to rub his thumbs slowly over the crescent indents left behind.

He was close enough that all Reigen could smell beyond the scent of green tea was Mob—floral, sweet, woody and warm.

“Shishou…” Mob croaked, chest rattling with sobs.

“I’m…” Reigen started to say, pausing to find his words, exhaling deeply as he held Mob’s earnest stare. “I won’t lie and say I wasn’t upset.”

Mob nodded, face crumpling and a tear escaping his eye. “I-I’m sorry…”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he cooked, reaching up to cup Mob’s cheek with one hand to brush his tears away. “I was upset. Do you understand why?”

“I was pushing too much—I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to. I just… I just wanted to spend time with you,” Mob whispered with a hiccup, gently removing one hand from Reigen’s hold to rub at his eyes. Reigen pulled his own hands back with a quiet hum, blinking up at Mob and waiting patiently for him to continue. “And I… I didn’t—the pills—I’m sorry. It wasn’t any of my business.”

“I’m not mad at you.”

Reigen wished that the weeping, and gaping wound in his soul stop hurting him. All he wanted was to look at Mob and the others—everyone—without seeing a looming threat.

“You should be! I—”

“Mhm, let me finish,” Mob’s mouth fell shut, and he nodded glumly, sniffling quietly. “I was upset with you, yes. But not mad. I could never be mad at you, Mob. And I get it—I do.”

He smiled gently when confusion washed over Mob’s face, as if he couldn’t understand why Reigen was forgiving him. Mob would never understand how much he meant to him.

“I know you’re worried about me. I haven’t been… the healthiest for some time. Sometimes things are hard, and medication helps some people—like me—and I know it probably came as a surprise to you, right?” Reigen explained, watching Mob nod hit head, though his faced pinched and lips parted as if he wanted to argue back. “I didn’t mean for you to find out, or for anyone else, for that matter. It’s private, like I said.”

“I shouldn’t have asked,” Mob rasped, sniffling and biting while he tried to rub his tears away.

“Mhm, no, you shouldn’t have. But there’s no point in lingering on that now,” he said, glancing from Mob’s eyes to his hands that dropped to his lap again to clutch at his pants. “What’s done is done. But I think the important thing is that you know why I was upset and… we needed this talk to happen.”

Mob Adam’s apple bobbed, the white-knuckled hold on his pants being released to reach down for Reigen’s hands, though he hesitated. His gaze snapped from Reigen’s hands to his face, as if fearful of touching him and causing another breakdown.

Reigen hated what Yamato had turned him into.

If he could go back to a time when he wasn’t a shattered thing—where he would have leaned into the warmth of a loved one without fear and question—then he would have done it without question.

“It’s okay,” Reigen murmured, while Mob looked on nervously and tearfully.

Rough and large hands cradled his own slender ones, holding them with all the tenderness in the world and as if Mob had caught a star within the palm of his hands.

How could he have not noticed how Mob treated him like glass?

They were both silent while they watched Mob trace the delicate veins on Reigen’s hands, before Mob leaned down to press his forehead to the hands he cradled within his own.

“I’m sorry,” Mob breathed out, his forehead warm and hair tickling Reigen's hands. “I’ll do better. I promise.”

He wanted to tell Mob that there was nothing he needed to do but be himself and live a happy life, free from pain and fear. Instead, Reigen said nothing, slipping one hand out of Mob’s hold to rake a hand through his dark locks while he shuddered with sobs.

The bitter reality was that Reigen knew he couldn’t go back to who he was before Yamato, but even if that wasn’t a possibility, he could still provide Mob comfort in what way he could.

It could have been hours or minutes, it didn’t matter, until Mob’s shaking and weeping petered off and he lifted his head to blink at Reigen sluggishly.

What a sad sight, Reigen mused miserably, staring into Mob’s red and swollen eyes.

“Sorry…”

Mob cleared his throat, slowly releasing Reigen’s hands and bringing them back to his lap. He found himself missing them already, their warmth and the protection Mob always exuded.

“Mob,” Reigen sighed, ruffling Mob’s silken hair, grinning fondly when Mob preened at his touch. “Just talk to me next time, okay?”

How could he have seen danger in Mob’s actions and touch when he was gentle with not just Reigen, but the world?

With a quiet hum of agreement, Mob glanced towards the clock on the wall next to his desk. “Uhm… Reigen-shishou, what time do we have to meet the client?”

“Huh—oh—oh, shit. We gotta go,” Reigen yelped, scrambling to his feet with Mob following closely behind, though he paused at the door, peering up at Mob in thought. “Don’t say that word. It’s only for adults.”

Mob rolled his eyes, lips quirking in amusement. “Shishou…”

Things could have gone worse with Mob all things considered, Reigen reflected thirty minutes later when they had arrived to meet the client at what looked like an abandoned building at first glance.

He crossed his arms, peering around at the dead grass and plants surrounding the building, before turning to face the client, Shima Daichi. Who had a severe frown on his face, thinning grey hair and desperation in his voice. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Shima lamented, waving a hand at the building in frustration. “I need this sold, but no one will buy it because of this ghost!”

The building was dilapidated, and clearly in no state to house anyone, Reigen considered. He peeked over at Mob, who tipped his head down signalling he sensed spiritual energy.

A bit of a surprise, really.

It could have been the state of the building that made it difficult to sell, and Reigen wouldn’t have questioned it.

“When did you first notice strange things happening?” he asked, pressing two fingers to his lip in thought.

“Ugh, it wasn’t me. It was the potential buyers that told me something was wrong.”

“Mhm, what did they say?”

“That they heard a woman screaming…” Shima trailed off, pursing his lips, eyes drifting between Mob and Reigen. “They said that they saw a woman fall from the rooftop. But when they went out to check, there was no body.”

Reigen hummed softly, staring up at the rooftop of the building where something told him he would find the spirit in question.

“Okay, if there isn’t anything else. My disciple and I have it from here,” with a nod to Shima, who meandered off, Reigen turned to look at Mob. “You ready, Mob?”

“Yes.”

“Rooftop?”

Mob nodded, glancing away from the rooftop and towards him, following Reigen as they made their way inside the decrepit building. It smelt musty and old, with dust in the air and a strange feeling in the air that Reigen couldn’t put his finger on first.

Ah… Grief, anger and sorrow.

That was what he felt as it cut through to his bones, make him shudder lightly at the cold despite the pleasant weather outside. With a groan, he glanced at the broken tiles, peeling wallpaper, and the wide-open area they found themselves in at the entrance.

“Watch your step! Geez, this place needs to be condemned,” Reigen groused, stepping over nails and other broken bits of the building scattered about, peering around the lobby until they found the stairwell. “I don’t want to risk taking the elevator. With our luck we’ll get trapped in it—if it even still works.”

He would have preferred not being in the building at all, but the stairwell was a safer bet over using the elevators they stepped past to access the stairwell. Reigen heaved a sigh, looking up and knowing there would be a long walk ahead.

Unfortunately, he was right.

It felt as if there was an unending number of stairs that creaked dangerously with every step as if it would give out at any moment.

Reigen heaved a sigh of relief when a glance up confirmed they were almost at the top of the stairwell.

Fresh air would be nice alongside the feeling of a warm breeze against his skin.

Anything would be better than being trapped in this building that felt more like a funeral home than anything.

“Ah, we’re almost there!” he celebrated, bumping his shoulder against Mob, who had been quiet until now. “It’s not even hot out, but I’m breaking a sweat… We should get ice cream or something after to celebrate.”

At the lack of response, he glanced over to Mob next to him.

“Mob?” Reigen called out, only for a wail to sound through the building. It was piercing and made ice go down his spine while he scrambled to cover his ears. “What is that?!”

“We’re almost there,” Mob murmured, seemingly unbothered by the wails. His gaze fixated on the door to the rooftop that sat at the top of the stairwell they had just reached. “It’s behind that door.”

“How strong does it feel?”

“Mhm, it’s not strong. It just feels… sad? Hurt?” Mob’s brows furrowed in thought as they near the door, his hand coming to rest on the doorknob. “It’s in pain.”

Mob opened the door and stepped through before Reigen, ever the protective one. The cool spring breeze brushed against his skin while he squinted past the sunlight beaming down on the rooftop. Stepping through the door and blinking until the white spots left his vision to reveal a woman.

From what he could see she had black hair down to the middle of her back, a ripped white dress that ended at her knees and despite not being able to see her face, he could spot bruises covering her arms, legs and the parts of her body that he could see.

Ah, wait… No, that had to be the spirit, Reigen realized, eyeing the woman sagged against the rooftop fence, leaning over it and weeping breathlessly.

“Miss!” Reigen called out from the door with Mob next to him, unsurprised when the spirit didn’t react and continued to weep. “Hello? Miss?”

“She’s suffering.”

The pain in Mob’s voice made Reigen pause to look up at him, taking in his face awash with a mix of concern and resignation.

“She can’t hear us?” he questioned.

“She can… I think, but…” another sob echoed through the rooftop, making Mob’s face crumple further. “She’s trapped somewhere else, and I can’t reach her.”

“What do we do?”

“I… I’ll just have to exorcise her.”

The spirit didn’t glance in their direction when they neared her, stopping several feet away and watching her stare fixated over the fence and to the ground below. He shared a look with Mob, who bit his lip and slowly raised a hand.

With a look of pity, Reigen studied the spirit, who continued to cry in anguish, unaware of the world around her. He eyed the state of her clothing, torn and askew, and just as Mob’s hand lit up with his powers, something caught his eye.

There was blood, along with something he didn’t want to think about, coating the inner thighs of the spirit hidden at first glance by her white dress, and before Reigen knew it, he reached over to grab Mob’s bicep gently, causing him to pause and blink down at him in confusion.

“Shishou?”

“Wait.”

At his request Mob’s powers faded and Reigen released his arm, stepping closer to the spirit until he could see her better.

Though Mob jolted forward. “Shishou, it’s dangerous!”

“It’s okay,” Reigen said, but he wasn’t sure if he was saying that to Mob or the spirit.

He stepped closer until he was next to the spirit, but still a distance away. She didn’t seem to notice him, continuing to wail with chest rattling sobs. Reigen used the opportunity to get a good look at her face when she leaned over the railing to stare at the ground with wide, dark eyes that dripped tears.

Pity and understanding settled in him when he braced his hands on the rickety railing to peer down at the ground below. It was quite a drop and in a distant part of his mind; he wondered what she had thought when she stood here and made the choice to jump.

“What’s your name?” he asked after a moment, feeling Mob’s piercing gaze burning into the side of his head.

Reigen looked over his shoulder to send a smile at Mob, hoping to abate his apprehension. Mob bit his lip before nodding, stepping back and closer towards the door to give them privacy, with his eyes never once leaving Reigen or the spirit.

As expected, the only response he received was a keen and Reigen understood.

Truly he did, and it hurt his soul to see another hurt in such a way.

Clearing his throat, he tried to speak with her again. “I’m Reigen Arataka.”

A guttural whimper left the spirit as she leaned further over the railing and, despite knowing he couldn’t stop her, his hands twitched towards her. That got a reaction from her, making her head whip in his direction, wide and fearful eye locking onto his.

He could clearly see her face now, her long dark hair, matted and tangled, no longer in her face.

The bruises, blood, and tears on her face almost made him weep. In a way, it was almost like looking at a reflection of himself from that day.

Her face was covered in bruises, lip split and a horrendous black eye that left it half-lidded. She had soft features marred by the marks of a traumatizing moment that had left her broken.

If Reigen had to guess, she was around his age or older.

So young, Reigen reflected somberly, with a hitched breath.

“Shishou!” Mob yelped from behind him.

Those fearful eyes darted from Reigen and to Mob, while the spirit huddled closer to the railing.

She was terrified, Reigen mused, and he understood her intimately in a way no one else could.

“Mob,” from the corner of his eye Reigen could see Mob halt in his movements, and even without looking, he knew Mob’s face was pinched in concern. “It’s okay.”

“Reigen-shishou…”

“Please, let me handle this,” Reigen requested, and for a moment he wondered if Mob would argue with him. “Trust me.”

Mob shifted as if to move forward, before nodding and taking several steps back to stand next to the door once more. Reigen refocused on the spirit, whose gaze remained locked on Mob.

Who was she seeing, he pondered.

Was it a looming figure or simply a teenage boy with a heart made of gold?

Reigen cleared his throat, catching the spirit’s attention and refocusing the attention on him, when her head snapped in his direction. The look of absolute terror on his face made him pause for a second.

With guilt, he wondered if this was the image he painted to the others—to Mob—when he would treat them as if they were the monster under his bed.

“Let’s try this again,” he murmured with a small smile, leaning against the railing, hoping it wouldn’t give. “I’m Reigen Arataka, the greatest psychic of the 21st century.”

The spirit stared at him, tears continuing to fall from her eyes and chest, rattling with every whimper.

“We’re here to help you,” Reigen continued when the silence stretched.

Would she ignore him, too trapped in her unending nightmare?

“You can’t help me… no one can,” the spirit finally said, voice trembling and rough. “He killed me.”

“Who?”

In his heart, Reigen knew without asking that she was speaking about her own Yamato and waking nightmare. She sobbed, shaking her head at his question, blood lips trembling and bruised hands gripping the railing tighter.

Her voice cracked when she devolved into shrieks again. “He broke me.”

Oh, how Reigen wished he could have saved her and soothed her hurts—even if he didn’t have a hero to save him, he could have rescued her, at least.

Reigen licked his lips, lower his voice to just above a whisper. “I… I understand,”

Because Reigen did and knew intimately what it felt like to be taken apart to be remade again. He had let Yamato break him and all but welcomed him to his doorstep, hadn’t he?

“What do you know?” the spirit snapped back through tears, blood dripping from her mouth onto her torn white dress.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Mob fidgeting at the spirit’s increasing agitation and wails.

“I…” he started to say, trailing off.

Were there any words to truly explain how deeply he understood her?

After all, Yamato had engraved and chiselled his lesson into Reigen’s body.

He knew what it was like to have his autonomy stripped from him, to not being able to stand to look at himself in the mirror to see the stranger that stared able. She must realize it to with the look of understanding settling on her face.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Reigen whispered sadly, holding her stare. A shared grief and hurt passed between them. “What happened to you was terrible—is terrible—and you didn’t deserve that. No one does. I’m sorry this happened to you.”

The spirit nodded slowly, glassy eyes studying his face. “You didn’t deserve it either.”

Reigen’s breath caught in his throat, because he deserved what happened to him for making Mob leave and for conning people—for pretending to be Yamato’s dead mother and being unable to be the good person Mob believed him to be.

Her face crumpled, a mix of resignation and pity on it while she raised and hand to lie against his cheek. He slanted a look towards Mob, raising a hand slightly to signal for him to remain by the door when Reigen saw him shift from the corner of his eye.

“Oh…” she breathed out, hand slipping from his cheek as he gently pulled him into an embrace. “It’s okay,”

He allowed it, letting the chill go through his body at her touch and closing his eyes to hold back tears. They stood like that for who knew how long, with Reigen listening to the sound of her chest rattle with quiet weeping and Mob fidgeting at the door, his shoes scraping against the ground.

If he didn’t pull back now, Reigen would say in her icy embrace forever.

With a quiet sigh, he leaned back to peer down at her. Only to find her staring up at him already with those bruised and sad eyes.

“You…” he started to say, swallowing the dryness in his throat, feeling her pull away to set her hands on the railing again. She waited patiently for him to speak, whimpering softly and caressing the railing with a look of longing. For a moment he let himself wonder. “D-do you regret it?”

Her hands stilled at his question, and she glanced from Reigen towards the drop below with a soft hum.

“…I don’t know.”

Considering her current state, her answer was unsurprising, yet Reigen wondered what she would have said if she hadn’t been bound to earth as a spirit.

If she had been able to pass on, finally finding release from her trauma and nightmare, would she have regretted it?

She slid her eyes away from the steep drop from the roof and back towards Reigen, bloody lips parting with a question.

“Would you?”

Reigen paused, peeking over the railing to the ground below and back to the spirit again, before stealing a look over at Mob, whose eyes caught his. Mob’s worried expression smoothed out the moment he saw Reigen’s smile.

It made his heart warm to see how Mob lit up at a simple smile.

“I… I don’t think so?”

The spirit hummed quietly, following his gaze and she studied Mob, glancing between them with a thoughtful look on her teary and bruised face.

“I understand.”

Did she really?

What had she seen to make her look at Reigen so softly?

Her lips twisted, a drop of blood dripping down to her chin from her split lip, brows pinching with absolute grief and weariness in her eyes. “I’ve been alone for so long… I’m so tired…”

“I know… But we’re here now. Let us help you, please,” he pleaded with her, bringing a hand up to rest next to the spirit’s holding onto the rusty railing.

She remained silent, and for a moment, he worried that they would have to drag her forcefully into the afterlife against her will.

Was that something he could do?

Could he bring himself to force the spirit—this unfortunate woman—even in death?

But his concern was extinguished just as quickly when she spoke again, fresh tears rolling down her bruised and swollen cheeks.

He wished he could have saved her.

“Thank you,” she finally rasped.

His shoulders slouched in relief, and with that, Reigen turned his head towards Mob, nodding at him and that had his disciple walking over to them. Mob’s shoulders were tucked in, and it only took him a second to realize why that was.

After all, Mob had done the same with him, hadn’t he?

Curled in on himself in an attempt to appear smaller and less threatening when Reigen was having a panic attack—how could he have ever feared Mob?

Mob stopped next to him, raising his hand and calling his powers to his fingertips. He glanced away from Mob to the spirit, to find her already watching him, holding his stare, eyes anguished, but with gratefulness overshadowing it.

She smiled softly, eyes sliding shut when she began to fade.

He couldn’t bring himself to speak. The air filled with the sound of distant traffic, birds chirping and his quiet hitched breathing.

There was nothing left in her place, as if she had never existed in the first place.

Reigen hoped she had loved ones out there that had worried and cared for her, keeping her memory alive long after she had passed.

Mob cleared his throat, hand dropping back to his side. “How did you know what to say?”

“It…” happened to me too, was what Reigen almost said, lost in thought and barely able to bite his tongue. He swallowed the words threatening to tumble out and peered up at Mob with an exhausted smile. “It’s something you learn in this field of work. People will come to you with unique problems, and… they may not all be spirit related.”

“Hm…” Mob hummed quietly, a speculative look on his face. “She suffered a lot, didn’t she?”

“Yes.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat, coughing into his fist in discomfort while Mob peered over the railing to the ground below in silence. “Uhm—well—good work today. Did you want to get ramen?”

“Ah…”

“Mob?”

Mob scratched the back of his head, ruffling his windswept hair with a grimace. “I do—I would—but I have an exam on Wednesday I still need to study for.”

“What?! You said you were fine to help today! And now you’re telling me you have an exam?”

“Uhm… More than one, but… Yes.”

“Mob.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not! What are your parents going to say?” Reigen scolded, turning to head to the rooftop door with Mob following behind.

Though when they finally exit the building, Reigen stared up at the spot the spirit had once been, unable to keep himself from wondering.

When she stood up there alone in her grief, what had she seen before she jumped?

Had she found herself lost in the city skyline, the night sky with the stars twinkling above, or in the memories of the past?

What had been her breaking point when the agony overcame all other desires and her will to live?

Now that she was free of her shackled, was she happy?

Would she feel relief to have made the decision she had?

He would never know, Reigen mused to himself, listening to Mob speak of his upcoming exams and assignments as they started the walk to the nearest bus stop. In the end, that night he dreamt of rooftops, hands that hurt and dark eyes filled with love.

Then it was two weeks later before he knew it and the beginning of summer break had Reigen bidding Mob goodbye for the day.

“Have fun with your friends. I’ll see you on Thursday?” he asked, smiling up at Mob, who stood on the other side of Reigen’s desk.

“Yes and, uhm… Reigen-shishou…” Mob mumbled, one hand shoved into the pocket of his blue jeans before he pulled them out to nervously fiddle with his hands, eyes wide and imploring. “Kaa-san told me to let you know to come over for dinner tomorrow.”

This kid with the puppy dog eyes and when did he even learn to do that?

The puppy dog eyes shoulder work so well coming from the hulking giant Mob had become, Reigen decided with a fond laugh, wiping invisible lint off his white turtleneck and grey slacks before making a decision he knew would bite him in the ass one day.

But he could never say no to Mob, could he?

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” Reigen chuckled, making Mob’s face light up. “Well, you better get going. You shouldn’t be wasting your summer with an old man like me.”

Mob looked as if he was going to argue with him, but he huffed quietly and fidgeted with the drawstrings of his blue hoodie, before he spoke again with a small and hopeful smile.

“Ah… Actually… I wanted to ask if you were going to the Lineage Festival next week?”

Involuntarily, his body tensed, hands starting to sweat alongside the back of his neck and lips, wanting to tug down into a frown. Though Reigen refused to make such a face in front of Mob. He had already hurt him enough.

“Huh? Oh! I totally forgot about that. Probably not,” he muttered, clicking through his calendar on his laptop and checking the date. “There’s a case we have, so Serizawa and I will be out for that, but it’s in the same area, I think.”

“Oh… uhm, okay,” Mob mumbled, face falling.

“Why, what’s up?”

“Ah… I was wondering… if you wanted to go with us?”

“Who's us?”

“My family. Kaa-san and Tou-san wanted to make sure I invited you. They’ll probably mention it again on Sunday.”

Relief washed over Reigen, his body untensing at the realization that Mob wasn’t trying to ask him out and he felt sick for even having to worry about such a thing. But more than that, he felt guilty for taking something so innocent, an offer to spend time with Mob and his family and misconstruing it as something nefarious.

Reigen hummed softly, thinking on the invite and deciding he wouldn’t mind attending the festival with Mob and his family. The Kageyama family was always a delight to be around and had quickly become his little escape from his nightmares.

Was this what it was like to have a loving and healthy family, Reigen mused, eyeing Mob who was fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie now.

“I would love to, but with that case I have scheduled that day there probably won’t be anytime,” Mob bit his lip, smiling sadly and despite Reigen knowing he should set more boundaries between them, he rushed to erase that sadness. “If Serizawa and I finish early, I can meet you all there.”

“Thank you, Shishou,” Mob breathed out.

Even now he stared at him as if Reigen had hung the stars and moon himself.

“Hmph, don’t thank me. I just don’t want to disappoint your parents,” Reigen teased, grinning when Mob rolled his eyes fondly and turned to leave with quiet goodbye. The door clicked shut behind him, though Reigen waited for a moment, and as expected, Mob peaked his head back in. “Mob.”

“Reigen-shishou.”

“Get outta here! I’ll text you whenever I get home, okay?”

With a laugh, Mob left, and the door shut behind him. Reigen would be eternally grateful to have so many loved ones that cherished and cared for him.

How lucky was he to have Mob and his family, Reigen reflected warmly.

Did he truly deserve it though, and when would—

“What was that all about?”

“What—Dimple!” he gasped, flinching back in his seat, heart pounding and wide eyes staring at the spirit floating at his side.

“Whoa, whoa—sorry. I didn’t realize you hadn’t heard me,” Dimple explained apologetically, hands up in a placating manner and floating to hover in front of him above his laptop. “I was talking to you for a minute. I didn’t think you were that deep in thought—I didn’t even know you could think.”

With a sigh, he gave Dimple a dirty look, his pounding heart calming slowly. “You’re such an asshole.”

“Hmph, takes one to know one.”

“Real mature,” Reigen grumbled, raking a shaking hand through his hair.

Dimple’s face twisted in remorse. “I’m sorry, Reigen. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Hey—look, I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Reigen said, glancing from Dimple and back to his laptop. “It’s fine. I was just thinking.”

“Hm…” Dimple hummed, staring at him before slowly settling on his desk next to an empty teacup. “So… What was all that about?”

“What?”

“What festival was Shige-chan talking about?”

“The Seasoning City Lineage Festival?” he asked. At Dimple’s nod, he continued. “It happens every 5 years. It’s pretty big. Everyone attends and… Well, it’s in the name—but people come back for it from all over. It’s about celebrating Seasoning City’s roots and all that.”

“Huh, that’s cool, I guess,” Dimple drawled, but to Reigen’s ears, he sounded uninterested. “Anyone you’re hoping to see?”

“Hm? Oh, uhm…” his hands froze where had started to type away on his laptop, images of his family coming to mind, making him shake his head. “No, there isn’t.”

Dimple nodded, slanting a look at Serizawa’s desk and then to the clock. “Where’s Katsuya? Don’t you have another case today?”

“Ah, he had to take his mother to an appointment, so he wasn’t able to come by in the morning,” Reigen explained, leaning back in his chair to stretch, sighing in relief when his back cracked, though Dimple grimaced at the sound. “He said he’d be in after lunch. I was lucky Mob could come by this morning… Ritsu gets so annoyed when I call him last minute.”

“Well—”

Whatever Dimple had to say was cut off when the office door open with a click and a client stepped in. One that Reigen and the rest of the S&S staff was familiar with. From the corner of his eye, he could see Dimple grimace at the sight of the man.

Unlike Dimple, who the client wouldn’t see, Reigen tried to keep his own distaste on his face as he stood to greet the man.

“Ah, Kutsuki-san.”

“Arataka-kun,” Kutsuki greeted him, crow’s feet deepening when he smiled, and his face lit up at the sight of Reigen. His slicked back pepper-and-salt hair glinted under the lights of the office as he made his way over to him. Kutsuki slapped a heavy, yet thin, hand on Reigen’s shoulder, ignoring his flinch and leaning down to catch his eye. “You can call me Shuji. Didn’t I already tell you?”

Reigen swallowed the nausea crawling up his throat, eye threatening to twitch in annoyance while his heart pounded fearfully. He stepped back and out of Kutsuki’s reach, slapping on his best customer service face, knowing that men like Kutsuki would ignore the disdain hidden in his eyes.

“It’s company policy. I hope you understand.”

“Well, I would think that we’re beyond that now,” Kutsuki grumbled, stepping over to the couch and taking a seat. Smoothing out his white button-up and black slacks before leaning back to make himself comfortable. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Ah… I’ll go grab the tea,” he said, unable to muster the energy up to give Kutsuki another lie or explanation.

Dimple grumbled something that he couldn’t heart over the blood pounding in his ear, though he sends Dimple a glance before he headed towards the kitchenette to ready the tea Kutsuki always requested.

“The guy isn’t even possessed and yet he’s coming in complaining every week—what’s with that?” Dimple snarled the moment he phased through the door to the kitchenette. Reigen hummed quietly, turning the kettle on, grabbing the teacups and preparing the tea. “Seriously, tell him to scram!”

“He pays well, and he’s been a long-time customer.”

“He’s a creep, that’s what he is.”

“Ah… Half of these men that come back for massages are, if you really think about it,” Reigen mused out loud, making Dimple’s face scrunch in disgust. “If I turned every customer away because they hit on me, then I’d be out of business pretty fast.”

“I still don’t like this…” Dimple grumbled, following Reigen out of the kitchenette when the tea was ready and on the bamboo tray.

Reigen joined Kutsuki at the couches, taking on the one opposite to him, setting the tray on the coffee table while feeling eyes burning into him and trailing over his body as he poured Kutsuki his tea with an internal grimace. He was sure if he looked towards where Dimple had settled on the couch opposite to Kutsuki, he would be flaring at the man with all the hate in the world.

Kutsuki made a small sound in the back of his throat before speaking. “Haha, you’re looking as healthy as ever, Arataka-kun.”

“Thank you.”

With a tight smile, he nudged Kutsuki’s tea across the coffee table, lips twitching at the curses flowing from Dimple’s mouth. Reigen had learnt early on that Kutsuki had a habit of being too touchy, grabbing Reigen’s hand in the past when he tried to hand the teacup or anything else to him.

Kutsuki grabbed his teacup and took a sip, grimacing at the taste flooding his mouth.

A petty part of Reigen felt satisfied at the sight. He had added too much sugar to the tea for anyone to really enjoy. For whatever reason, Kutsuki never complained when Reigen made his tea incorrectly; if anything, he always acted as if Reigen had prepared a 5-star meal.

“The tea is good.”

“I’m glad it’s to your taste, Kutsuki-san.”

He was familiar with Kutsuki, who would come by either for a spiritual massage or to complain about his wife. Reigen always tuned out minutes into his complaints, eyes drifting to where Dimple sat next to him and watched Kutsuki with barely concealed contempt.

“—she really has let go of herself!”

“Mhm.”

Once Reigen would have provided advice, or perhaps he would have told Kutsuki to look in the mirror first before he complained about his wife? But he had learnt whatever he said to Kutsuki would go in one ear and out the other.

Sometimes Reigen was compelled to curse Kutsuki off and ban him completely. He was sure the past him would have snapped at Kutsuki already, unlike this fragile and ghost of a person he had become.

“Women nowadays are—”

“Let me possess him,” Dimple muttered, making Reigen choke down laughter that he disguised by coughing into his fist.

“Doesn’t even try—”

“I feel bad for whatever poor woman he’s chained down!”

If Dimple kept this up, then Reigen would end up laughing in Kutsuki’s face, and that probably wouldn’t look good for business.

Though would that be such a bad thing, Reigen mused with an internal laugh.

“Gained so much weight—”

Dimple scoffed, rolling his eyes at Kutsuki’s words. “He likes to hear himself talk, doesn’t he?”

Reigen nodded in agreement, reaching to grab his own cup of tea from the coffee table, taking a sip and letting the warmth soothe him. It was never a good feeling when Kutsuki or other clients like him came around.

“—you’re as beautiful as always.”

“Are you kidding me?” Dimple finally snapped, and at his indignation, Reigen refocused his attention on Kutsuki.

To find Kutsuki’s gaze trailing over his body until he locked eyes with Reigen again with a smile.

It was always so odd to Reigen how Kutsuki seemed like a regular father and grandfather, with what was a kind face, if he didn’t know the type of man he truly was. He stared at Kutsuki in silence, hand tightening around the teacup, trying to focus on the warmth from it soaking into his hand.

“If I was younger, I would have asked you out," Kutsuki admitted, smoothing down his shirt once more.

Reigen’s jaw ticked, face flushing a harsh red from indignation that he morosely realized only seemed to urge Kutsuki on.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love my wife. But a man has needs,” Kutsuki continued, leaning back against the couch, splaying his legs open with a barely hidden leer. Reigen’s brow twitched as he struggled to keep his face from twisting in disgust. “You understand me, right?”

“Seriously, just say the word and I’ll walk him straight into a lake.”

“Ah… Kutsuki-san, I think maybe a marriage or couples counsellor would be more helpful,” Reigen advised, shifting in discomfort, hand shaking the slightest around his tea, while his other twitched with the desire to claw at the scar on his neck.

“Haha, you’ll understand when you get married! This is just what marriage is,” Kutsuki chuckled, smile deepening in amusement. “But that is good advice for others. Sometimes, I forget you’re more than just a pretty face.”

Dimple sneered. “Fuck this! Reigen, I’m gonna—"

Or was it more of a growl? Reigen couldn’t say. He had never heard that sound from Dimple before, who looked close to following through on his threats.

“Kutsuki-san,” at the sound of a familiar voice, Reigen startled, eyes darting towards the door where Serizawa stood with a grimace on his face. “I think it’s best you leave now.”

Kutsuki stilled, before licking his lips with a sigh, holding Serizawa’s stare. “Oh, Serizawa-san… I didn’t realize that you were working today.”

“I’m here whenever Reigen-san is or there will be another staff member,” Serizawa declared, gaze drifting from Kutsuki to Reigen and then back again. “I can cash you out. We have another client scheduled, so we need to leave in a few minutes.”

With that, Kutsuki’s mouth clicked shut, face falling flat while satisfaction washed over Reigen. He watched Kutsuki stand up from the couch to head towards where Serizawa waited.

“Reigen, look at me,” Dimple demanded, forcing him to look away from Kutsuki towards him. “You okay?”

He nodded slowly, taking another sip of tea that now tasted like ash to help soothe the dryness in his throat.

“Yeah.”

“Arataka-kun,” at his name Reigen glanced over to where Kutsuki stood at the office door with Serizawa holding it open and watching him intently. “It was lovely chatting with you. I’ll come by again soon.”

“The hell he will,” Dimple growled, while Serizawa nodded in agreement and waited for Reigen’s response.

“Ah…” he breathed out, trying to will away the sudden empty feeling inside. “Thank you for choosing Spirits and Such.”

Kutsuki grinned, and turned to leave, giving Serizawa a dark look before disappearing out the door that shut behind him. Reigen released the breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding in, shoulders drooping in relief and body shuddering.

Oddly enough, he wanted to cry but couldn’t.

“A-are you okay, Reigen-san?”

“Yeah, I’m okay… Everything is fine.”

“Fine?” Reigen leaned back against the couch as Dimple’s complaints renewed. “In what world is everything fine? I swear if I have to hear or see that sleazy old shit again, I’m going to lose my mind!”

“Dimple is right,” Serizawa added, coming over to collect the teacups, taking Reigen’s empty one from his shaking grasp with a concerned glance. “We should ban him… I don’t think talking to him again about his behaviour will do anything.”

With an exasperated sigh, Reigen pinched the bridge of his nose, struggling to find a way to make them understand it mattered little what they said or did. People like Kutsuki and Yamato were everywhere.

This was the reality of the world they lived in, and Reigen was just trying to make the best of the situation he was in. Banning clients that behaved this way would lead to them losing a good chunk of business, even if they could still stay afloat. He didn’t want to risk it, not when he had employees to think about.

He had to make a living too, didn’t he?

The past Reigen would have dealt with clients like Kutsuki easily, from men to women. It hadn’t mattered. If anything, clients like this were the most likely to become regulars. Some were lonely and not harmful, and then there were people like Kutsuki and Yamato.

Reigen shook his head. He didn’t want to think about Yamato.

At least it was only some clients here and there, he mulled, unlike what he had dealt with at his previous workplace with his coworkers.

“Reigen?” Dimple called out to him.

Ignoring the stares burning into him, he hummed softly, lost in thought until Serizawa headed off to the kitchenette with the tray and teacups.

“Just promise you won’t let clients like that in whenever you’re on your own,” Dimple requested after a moment, crossing his arms over his chest. “…Seriously, just say the word and I can make him disappear… Or, well, if Shige-chan ever finds out, we won’t have to worry.”

“I’ll be careful,” he whispered, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants.

Peering down at Dimple, he studied the worry on his face, making regret simmer within Reigen, even knowing he wasn’t the one to cause any of this.

It wasn’t like he asked for this.

Yet it mattered little what Reigen wanted in the end, right?

Yamato had never cared.

Was it a surprise Reigen struggled to care for himself then?

About his body—this wretched husk he was forced to live within—that he wished he could force to look as ugly and rotten as his insides.

Because then maybe Yamato, Katsuki and others like him wouldn’t be interested in him?

What a foolish thought, Reigen reflected morosely, ignoring the stares from Dimple and Serizawa.

With that, he pushed this to the back of his mind—in the back of his closet beside a ruined tie and his sanity—as he focused on trying to get through the today and the days to come.

All things considered, despite how tired Reigen was from completing that case with Serizawa and rushing home to change into his yukata, he was looking forward to spending time with the Kageyama family.

He kept his eyes down and, on his phone, glancing at the location Mob had texted him. Though he struggled to focus, continually fidgeting with the beige and red striped scarf wrapped around his neck.

Even though he knew no one was watching him, it felt like they were.

After all, he painted a strange picture wearing a scarf despite the summer heat. But it covered the large bandage over his scarf on his throat. The scarf helped hide his greatest shame, alongside the army green haori he wore over his grey yukata to cover what skin he could.

This was the only way he could convince himself to wear anything, but the protection offered by his usual turtlenecks and attire.

A part of him still wanted to turn back and go home to hide under his blanket, Reigen thought with a sigh, fiddling with the sleeve of the hand holding his phone.

He glanced up from his phone, stepping around groups of people, families, to couples on his way to the meeting location. Everyone looked happy. A warm glow cast from the lights hung up everywhere, with the scent of food in the air.

For Mob, he could do this, and maybe it would be nice to get some fresh air?

With a glance back at his phone, Reigen saw he was nearing the meeting location, forcing him to look up and then back at his phone as he turned the corner.

It should be around here, he mused, readying himself to text Mob and let him know he was at the spot.

Only for the world to tilt, a yelp escaping him when he bumped into a solid mass and tumbled to ground. Hissing softly, Reigen rubbed his aching hip, before scrambling to fix his scarf and put it back in place again.

“Ah, sorry about that. I didn’t see—oh,” at the familiar voice, Reigen’s eyes snapped up to the hand held out in front of him and then to the man looming over him. “Babe… still falling for me, huh?”

Who had Reigen been fooling all this time by believing someone like him deserved peace or happiness? He would always be nothing more than a skittish rabbit hunted by a thing of nightmares.

Chapter Text

Reigen’s gaze slid from the hand offered to him and locked onto the snake tattoo peaking out beneath the sleeve of Yamato’s grey yutaka.

“Babe… still falling for me, huh?”

Why was this happening to him now when he had finally started to see the light end the end of the tunnel and had begun to slowly put himself back together again—loosening the noose around his neck until he could finally take a desperate breath in.

Maybe this was another nightmare Reigen was trapped within, one he would awake from like he always did?

This couldn’t be real.

But it was.

He must have taken too long to respond, frozen in place where he had been knocked to the ground, heart in his throat with a strange ringing in his ears. It didn’t matter what he did, because Yamato’s hands were on him again, reaching down to grab Reigen’s biceps and roughly pull him to his feet.

Why was Yamato here?

This wasn’t fair.

“What’s wrong? Babe, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Yamato crooned, breath hitching with laughter and grip unrelenting.

Reigen should free himself from Yamato’s grasp or push him away, anything to try to put distance between him and his worst nightmare.

But he couldn’t with how his hand tightened and tugged Reigen closer, enough that he could count every one of his eyelashes if he wanted to. Maybe he should create a scene instead?

He could yell, couldn’t he?

After all, Reigen knew if he spoke now, he would start screaming and never stop.

Though he wouldn’t dare to bring attention to them, would he?

Yamato must have known this too, with how his stare drifted away from Reigen to crowd around them and back to him again with a quirk of his lips. The humiliation and terror were enough to silence him, keeping his lips sealed and eyes wide open.

Why couldn’t he move?

Even as he tried to will himself to do something other than stare at Yamato like a deer in headlights, his body refused to respond. He was frozen to the spot, chest hitching with panicked breaths, lips trembling, palms sweaty and eyes stinging.

He wanted to leave and go somewhere far from here, where Reigen would be safe, and Yamato wouldn’t be able to lay a hand on him again.

Despite the air being filled with the scent of fried foods at the festival, along with other delights, all Reigen could smell was coffee, iron and Yamato—earthy, dry and woody, with the spicy and sweet scent of cinnamon, that overpowered his senses and—

(“—you’re thinking about other men while you’re with me, hm?” Yamato demanded, thrusts speeding up and hands searing bruises into Reigen’s hips, waist and thighs.)

There was only one place that came to mind where he would be safe, and that was at Mob’s side.

Mob was at the festival and was heading to the meeting spot, wasn’t he? Who was the embodiment of safety, protection, and all that Reigen needed right now. He had to get to Mob, didn’t he?

Reigen searched the surrounding crowd through glassy eye desperately, ignoring Yamato’s snort of amusement as his trembling amplified when Mob was nowhere to be found. If he couldn’t find Mob, then he could look for Ritsu or their parents, right?

Anyone was fine. It didn’t matter, he just wanted to be safe.

Though in the back of his mind, a voice was screaming to not involve Mob to keep from tainting him with his trauma further. He ignored it alongside everything else. The fear and panic had taken over long ago, halting any other thoughts until he could no longer think past the terror.

Where was Mob, he wanted to weep, to drop to his knees and scream until his throat bled.

“—running into you—”

In the back of his mind, he knew Yamato was speaking, but Reigen couldn’t hear him past his panic or the pounding of his heart. Everything was muffled. The only thought on his mind was the feeling of death and wanting to escape.

He couldn’t do this again. He couldn’t, he couldn’t, he couldn’t—

“—listening to me?”

A hand grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look away from the crowd around them and back to Yamato. Whose lips were spread into a familiar smile, face awash in a mix of laughter and mockery.

It was a sudden thought that came to him, but Reigen wondered what this looked like to others.

Did they look like lovers?

Maybe if Reigen’s face wasn’t seen, which he was sure was ashen with glassy eyes.

“Calm. Down,” Yamato snapped, fingers digging into the soft flesh of his face before he released him. Though he still hadn’t removed the grip he had on Reigen’s biceps. Yamato’s stare drifted off to the side for a moment and back to him again. “You don’t want people to get the wrong idea, do you?”

At that, he glanced in the direction Yamato had, his eyes landing on a pair of women standing a distance away, watching them in concern. They appeared older, close to his own mother’s age and looking as if they wanted to help.

If he were to call to them, would they come to his aid?

It still took his breath away to see that photo of his own tearstained, bruised and blood face started back at him.

Yamato held his phone up, voice tinged with that ever-present amusement. “Don’t even think about it. Are you forgetting about this?”

Reigen would ever forget about what Yamato had done to him, nor of the evidence taken afterwards.

It still took his breath away to see that photo of his own tearstained, bruised and blood face started back at him.

He chose to say nothing, lips trembling and tears threatening to fall.

The way Yamato basked in this win, eyes crinkling in pleasure before he turned and tugged Reigen behind him, hurt.

Why did he get so much pleasure out of making him suffer?

Though it wasn’t a question he would ask Yamato, who led Reigen through the crowd, until they took a turn off the path into the greenery outside the festival. It was off to the side, amongst trees and shrubbery alike.

Yamato halted when they were a distance away from the festival, just outside the treeline, but still close.

“Hmph, it kind of sets the mood, doesn’t it?” Yamato said when he turned to face him, shooting a look up at the fairy lights strung between the surrounding trees. At his silence, Yamato finally took his state in—savouring the terror on his flushed face and the tears clinging to his lashes. “Cute.”

The nausea amplified when a large hand brushed against his hip, caressing it before grabbing his waist harshly. Reigen knew there would be bruises to be found later. One he would see in the mirror once more, weeping and breaking down in his bathroom in the same way he had all that time ago.

He couldn’t do this again.

His body still refused to budge, becoming nothing but a limp puppet for Yamato to bend and warp to his desires, all while Reigen’s words stayed trapped behind his trembling lips, caught between his teeth.

“Not going to say anything to me?” Yamato asked softly, leaning down to whisper in his ear, breath hot against it and making Reigen jolt. “You’re going to hurt my feelings if you keep giving me the silent treatment, babe.”

There was a threat in Yamato’s words that Reigen wasn’t blind to, that had him rushing to save himself in what way he could.

All he could muster was a pathetic whimper. “P-please—”

Yamato hummed softly, lips brushing against his ear and then finding their way to his jaw, nipping at it and making him gasp.

This couldn’t be real, Reigen told himself, revulsion churning in his gut and hands balling into fists.

Try as he might to will himself to do anything but whimper and cry, he could do nothing but that.

“Why?” he rasped, unsure if the question was directed towards himself or Yamato.

Though his words broke off into a sob when Yamato tugged his scarf down roughly, tearing his bandage off and seconds later there were lips against his throat. No, they were focusing on his scar, the very one left by Yamato on that day.

Who was focused on worshipping it now, sucking a hickey on Reigen’s mark of shame, before leaving other marks on his neck for him to uncover later.

Reigen sobbed, shuddering when Yamato laughed at his desperate words. “Why?”

Yamato hummed softly, peppering his neck with his unwanted affections, before finally speaking and giving Reigen an answer that made him want to weep all the harder.

“I missed you,”was the response he got, that made no sense, and what did Yamato want from him?

He could barely stop himself from laughing deliriously, slanting a look towards the crowd through a gap in the trees a distance away that were none the wiser. He could scream for help, but… The fucking pictures.

“This is—ah—your fault. I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.”

“Please don’t,” he said instead, Adam’s apple bobbing, barely restraining a whine, when Yamato nipped at it in response.

“Use your words, babe. Please don’t what?”

“P-Please don’t do this to me.”

At his words, Yamato finally stopped and pulled away from him to peer down at him with a blank expression on his face.

“Okay. I won’t.”

This was too good to be true, but all Reigen had was hope to keep him going now, though Yamato destroyed whatever relief blooming within him just as quickly at the delight washing away that blank look.

“Heh, did you really think that would work?” Yamato snickered joyfully, dark eyes devouring the grief on Reigen’s face. “Haha, you should have seen the look on your face! God, how stupid can you get?”

“I’m not—”

“So stupid. Just a pretty face, aren’t you?”

Yamato was cruel, Reigen knew that from long ago, but the reminder was a harsh slap in the face. His lips wobbled, tears finally falling free when Yamato continued to find delight in his pain and at the hope he had snuffed out.

“M’not—”

“You are,” Yamato whispered huskily, leaning down to swallow his sob.

His cry was muffled, and despite everything, Reigen could do nothing but weep. Silent tears falling from his face while Yamato took him apart once more and he could do nothing to stop him.

This was it, wasn’t it?

He hadn’t been able to escape or win against Yamato back then in the office, so why would things be different now when there were pictures and proof of Reigen’s debauchment?

How could he stop Yamato when those images would be used against him?

The thought of Yamato showing them to others was terrible enough, but what if Mob were to see them? The idea alone had him whimpering, making Yamato growl, his lips rough against Reigen’s as he devoured him all the more.

Was Reigen pathetic for letting this happen again?

Would there be anything left of him after Yamato had his fill?

Yamato’s lips found their way to his throat again, and the only warning Reigen had was the teeth scraping against his pulse before pained tore through his mind. Dragging a pained cry from Reigen that had him pushing Yamato away and stumbling back in desperation to get away from the pain.

Reigen stumbled back, trying and failing to regain his balance, instead falling to the ground when his left ankle rolled. The pain tearing through him pulled a pained wail from his bitten red and swollen lips.

“Ah!”

“Stupid bitch,” Yamato sighed, one hand on his hip, before he reached down to pull Reigen up by his biceps, ignoring his pained sob.

It felt as if his ankle was on fire, Reigen thought in pain, fresh tears rolling at the pain flaring up from his ankle when Yamato pulled him to his feet again.

“P-please—”

“Fucking—just—stay still,” Yamato snarled, shaking him and dragging another wounded whine from Reigen.

“Hurts—”

“Shut. Up,” his pleads were silenced by Yamato’s hand.

Yamato silenced his pleas with a hand over Reigen’s mouth while shoving him back against a tree and tearing his scarf off. Attacking his jaw and neck once more, while rough hands tugged at Reigen’s yukata and haori.

Even while he pled, Yamato only groaned against Reigen’s neck, pressing closed to his chest and crushing him against the tree. His hands were leaving a trail of fire everywhere they touched, in places they didn’t belong, and no matter what Reigen said or did, he wouldn’t stop.

“Please stop,” he pled tearfully, his own slim hands scrambling into the space between them, trying and failing to push Yamato away. Though his mind stuttered to a halt when something hard pressed against his thigh, making Reigen gasp wetly, and breathtaking terror cut him to his core. “Stop! N-no—"

No matter how hard he shoved at Yamato, nothing he did worked, and he would be caught with his injured ankle. Even if he managed to get away, the pictures would hit Reigen’s heart like a bullseye.

Reigen glanced over Yamato’s broad shoulder tearfully and to the gap in the trees again, to the crowd in the distance.

He wasn’t going to be saved, was he?

“Just a pretty face—"

Yamato was grinding his hard cock against Reigen’s hip, ignoring his attempts to keep rough hands from tearing his yukata off. Teeth bit into his neck again, pulling another anguished wail from him and making fresh tears spill faster.

Was he going to be eaten alive?

“Mob!” Reigen wept, struggling against all that Yamato was.

All he needed was Mob and everything would be okay, right?

But where was Mob and why wasn’t he here?

Mob would save him from this hell, Reigen mused, mind trying to stray somewhere far from here. Only to be dragged back when his yukata was pulled open. Making him keen breathlessly and clench his eyes shut the moment the cool breeze touched his skin.

“Such a slut—"

But there was no hero crashing through the trees and tearing Yamato away from Reigen.

Not then and certainly not now.

“Been thinking about you for so long—"

Why had he ever thought that things would be different this time when Mob hadn’t been there to save him the first time?

His stomach turned with nausea the second that thought hit him, because this wasn’t Mob’s fault. It never was.

This was all Reigen, wasn’t it?

After all, he was the fraud, con artist and bad person.

“Such a whore,” Yamato crooned, lips pressing against his and swallowing Reigen’s cry. “You want this, don’t you?”

How could he even consider letting Yamato near Mob?

What kind of shishou was he?

So, then… no one would save him and Reigen couldn’t save himself. Not then and not now. There would be no happy ending to his story.

“Please—stop—don’t!” he sobbed breathlessly when Yamato broke the kiss, heart breaking at his reality.

All while he grabbed Yamato’s hands, sliding beneath his yukata to grope at Reigen’s chest. Yamato chuckled at his constant pleas, twisting a nipple while groping his chest with his other hand.

“Mhm, god, you’re just so—ha—fucking sexy,” Yamato groaned, pushing his knee between Reigen’s trembling thighs, brushing it against his crotch. “I’ve been dreaming of you—of this—for so long. It’s your fault, babe."

“—ji!”

Reigen shook his head, pleas falling from his lips and head lolling. “P-please—don’t! Please, please, please—”

It was as if he couldn’t do anything but beg.

Even if Yamato told him to shut up, Reigen didn’t think he could stop. Not even while everything became a blue of tears, pain and Yamato.

Yamato sighed in pleasure against his throat. “This is all you’re good for.”

“Koji!”

At that sound, Yamato’s head snapped up and towards the direction of that voice—a woman’s voice—and then towards Reigen again. There was an odd look in his dark eyes that Reigen couldn’t name, even when his vision cleared just the slightest of his tears.

“Koji!”

“Shit,” Yamato groused suddenly, shoving away from Reigen, who scrambled to shakily tug his clothing back into place. He pressed himself against the tree, watching Yamato with fearful eyes as he pulled his cellphone out and swore at whatever he found. “That woman… I swear.”

“Koooooji!”

The voice sounded closer now, but even then, all he could stare at was Yamato, tracking his every breath and move, while he let out another quiet curse.

Yamato moved quickly to grab Reigen’s scarf from the ground a bit away, before getting back into his space again. Ignoring his attempt to flinch away, Yamato roughly wrapped the scarf back around Reigen’s neck tightly, ensuring it wouldn’t budge before he grabbed his wrist in a painful hold.

“Don’t fucking say anything, okay? If you do…” Yamato hissed, unbothered by his pained yelp.

There was no need for Yamato to threaten him, not when Reigen knew the punishment that would come if he were to speak of what happened.

“I-I won’t! Please… just let me go,” he pled, wincing when Yamato’s hold tightened.

“It’s a little too late for that,” Yamato grumbled, wiping Reigen’s tears away with the sleeve of his yutaka harshly.

Shifting back, just a tall and dark-haired woman stepped into the clearing with a toddler on one hip. She caught sight of them in a matter of seconds, dark eyes widening before she rushed over to Yamato. Branches and shrubbery alike brushed against her pink and yellow kimono, that she focused little on while holding her child, dressed in a simple blue yukata, close to her.

“Koji!”

“Aya,” Yamato greeted the woman softly, face brightening with a large smile.

Reigen couldn’t believe this.

Who was this man?

Silently, he watched the scene play out before him while he cowered against the tree, wiping at his face with the sleeve of his haori with a racing heart. Yamato met the woman halfway, pressing a kiss to both her and the child’s dark strands.

Yamato tucked a lock of the woman’s—Aya’s, Reigen’s mind supplied—shoulder length hair behind her ear, voice deceptively gentle. “I’m sorry. Were you looking for me?”

“I was! I look away for one second and you disappear?!” Aya snapped, brows furrowed, and lips pressed into a thin line. “You didn’t even answer your phone! You’re lucky I have your location on or—”

“I’ve told you before—please, don’t do that unless it’s an emergency.”

“I wouldn’t have to do this if you just stopped disappearing! I think that counts as an emergency, don’t you think?!”

“This hardly qualifies as an emergency,” Yamato scoffed, though his lips were still curved up in a fond smile. “I didn’t disappear either. I was—”

Aya shook her head. “What if something happened to you, or—”

“Hmph, what would happen to me? I ran into a friend, and I lost track of time.”

“That’s a—” Aya started to say, though she finally realized there was an audience to their lovers’ spat when her eyes locked onto Reigen. “Oh.”

“Aya,” Yamato sighed, placing a hand to her lower back to guide her towards Reigen. He couldn’t make sense of what was happening. “This is Reigen-san… The friend I was telling you about before. Reigen-san, this is my wife, Yamato Aya.”

“Oh! That Reigen-san!” she said, understanding washing over her face before she beamed at Reigen. “I’ve heard so much about you!”

“Ah…” was all he could bring himself to say.

Up close, he hadn’t realized how tall she was, at his eye level basically, if not just a bit shorter. So, this was Yamato’s wife. She looked like a kind woman with gentle dark eyes and a soft smile on her pretty, round face.

Their child looked like a mix of them, Reigen mused distantly in the back of his racing mind.

“Koji talks so much about you. I’m glad to meet finally—ah!” she stepped closer to Reigen, only to stumble over a branch, though Yamato caught her and stopped her fall.

“Be careful! You’re holding Hiro!”

“Tch, I wouldn’t have to worry about tripping over anything if you hadn’t run off! Aya scoffed, flushing red and rolling her eyes at Yamato, before a confused look settled over her face. “…Why are you here—in the bushes—away from the festival?”

“Oh my god, I didn’t run off! I told you I ran into Reigen-san, but… he fell and injured his ankle, so I pulled him aside to look at it. He was crying,” at that Yamato sent him a heavy look with a threat clear in them. Reigen nodded numbly, eyes skittering between the couple. He must have given the right answer with how Yamato’s lips twitched just the slightest. “He was embarrassed, and I wanted to give him some privacy. We didn’t realize his ankle was that bad…”

Aya peered down at Reigen’s ankle, then to his flushed face and teary eyes with pity. “Oh, you poor thing. That looks painful.”

His mind was spinning. One moment Yamato was ravaging him against a tree and the next he was playing family man.

Was this a dream?

“I-it’s okay. Uhm, I should get going anyway.”

Reigen gave Aya a wobbly smile, shaking his head and moving to leave by walking around them, though the moment he set his foot down, pain flared up and had him gasping softly.

“You’re injured! We can’t just leave you like this. We’ll take you to one of the first aid stations, right, Koji?”

“Yeah,” Yamato agreed with a secretive smile. “We can’t leave you like this, Reigen-san.”

With those words, Yamato reached for him again, eyes alight when Reigen flinched when he took his arm and threw it over his shoulder. A large hand settled on his waist next, pulling him to Yamato’s side as he acted as Reigen’s crutch when they started to make their way back to the festival, with Aya walking a little before them.

His skin was crawling.

The hands that had been groping at him and tearing at his clothing seconds ago were now holding him as if they meant to no harm.

But all Reigen could feel was the threat in Yamato’s touch.

“It’s okay, really. I can find my way to the first aid station,” Reigen rasped, but Yamato's hand flexing against his waist, nails digging into his skin through his yutaka, made him bite his lip to smother a whimper. “I-I can—”

“Nonsense, Reigen-san. We can’t leave you like this when you’re injured,” Yamato explained, all but dragging him after Aya and Hiro. “Aya!”

Aya glanced back over her shoulder, gently rocking Hiro against her hip. “What?”

“I’ll get Reigen-san to the first aid station. Why don’t you meet up with the others and I’ll join you after?”

Reigen couldn’t let this happen, because Yamato would only continue where he had left off, wouldn’t he?

“What, are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’ll make sure he’s fine and join you all after.”

“I—” he started to say, trembling lips parting to make his case.

Even if he couldn’t see Yamato’s face, the unforgiving grip on his waist was threatening, even while Aya slowed down to match their pace to peer at Reigen with concern. Her brows furrowed at the sight of whatever expression was on his face.

Though he didn’t need to think much about that when they stepped out of the foliage and suddenly Mob was descending on them. He was taller than many other festival attendees, able to see over the crowds and locked eyes with Reigen.

“Reigen-shishou!”

Mob pushed through those crowds, navy blue yukata with red leaf pattern and white haori askew, until he reached Reigen, chest heaving and face awash in worry.

“Mob,” Reigen breathed out desperately.

Truly, he couldn’t understand how Mob found him, but he was relieved either way and unwilling to question it. His shoulders drooped at the sight of Mob and the sound of his voice until Yamato’s fingers digging into his side brought him back to reality.

Right, his nightmare wasn’t over yet, was it?

“Where were you? You stopped answering your phone. I was looking for you,” Mob explained, gaze drifting over him to ensure Reigen was in one piece. “I asked around, and some women told me they saw you get dragged off?”

“I’m—” his words caught in his throat.

Was he fine?

Reigen knew his face was flushed and as red as his eyes, his body, if it already hadn’t already, would be covered from the new marks hidden beneath his yutaka and scarf from Yamato.

“Okay,” was what Reigen ended up saying.

Mob’s face twisted in disbelief, eyeing his state, mouth opening to no doubt call Reigen out on the definition of what okay was, only for Yamato to speak first.

“He took a bit of a fall and injured his ankle,” Yamato cut in.

It was only now Mob finally took notice of the Yamato family. His dark eyes swept over them curiously, before locking onto Yamato, who held Reigen to his side. Mob pursed his lips, brows furrowing while he peered at Reigen with a question in his gaze.

“Ah, uhm…” he knew Mob wanted to know who Yamato, Aya and Hiro were.

What could Reigen even say?

How was he supposed to tell Mob that he had run into his rapist, gotten assaulted again and wasn’t okay—that Reigen wanted to sob and ask Mob to save him?

Though he didn’t need to worry about it much when Aya saved him from having to respond.

“Koji was just about to take him to a first aid station,” Aya said, smiling kindly when Mob eyed her blankly before glancing at Reigen for confirmation.

At Reigen’s nod, Mob stepped closer to take him from Yamato. “Oh, thank you for helping Shishou.”

Large hands—soft, kind, and gentle—carefully took Reigen’s other arm to throw over Mob’s shoulder. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning into the warmth and protection Mob offered, the fear still roaring inside him, but eased, even if just the slightest, at that comforting touch.

Mob was here now, and all was right in the world.

He desperately breathed in Mob’s familiar and soothing scent of lilac, jasmine and the woody scent of sandalwood, while soaking in his warmth and touch that promised protection.

For a second, he feared Yamato wouldn’t let him go when his grip tightened on Reigen’s waist, but just as suddenly, Yamato smiled and relinquished him to Mob. Who stared at Yamato with half-lidded eyes and brows furrowed in thought.

“It was no problem,” Yamato said with a shrug of his shoulders, stepping away and closer to his family.

Even though a part of him wanted to cling to Mob and weep, he forced himself to take a deep breath. Everything would be fine. Mob was here, who Reigen peered up at, only to find him gazing at Yamato with a look he couldn’t decipher.

Willing the tears that wanted to make a reappearance, Reigen shifted to lean more heavily against Mob’s side before speaking.

“Mob,” Reigen muttered, his gaze meeting Aya’s own confused stare at the lack of response. “Mob?”

“Mhm,” Mob hummed quietly, tilting his head in thought.

Yamato and Mob were in a strange stare off, one that had even Aya quirking a brow, if not for Hiro fussing, pulling her attention towards him. Giving Reigen a chance to put a stop to whatever this strangeness was.

He wanted to get Mob far away from Yamato and the threat he presented.

“Mob?”

Mob still wasn’t focusing on him, his hand twitching against Reigen’s waist, gaze fixated on Yamato who quirked his lips in what Reigen recognized as amusement.

“Ah… so you’re Mob? Reigen-san has told me so much about you,” Yamato announced, glancing at Reigen with a twitch of his lips. He must have finally put a name to the face after Reigen had called for Mob to save him that day—though he couldn’t imagine Yamato remembering Mob from when he had come by the office for the first time ago too many years ago to count. “I didn’t realize Reigen-san’s disciple was so… young.”

“It’s Kageyama,” Reigen cut in, words slipping from his lips unbidden.

Yamato simply smiled, nodding in agreement and exhaling softly while Mob frowned, a quick dip of his lips before his expression smoothed out.

“How do you know Reigen-shishou?”

“How do I know Reigen-san?” Yamato laughed, smiling at his Aya, who was rocking Hiro in her arms. “Well, he’s done so much for me.”

“So much for us,” Aya corrected with a grin.

“Oh,” Mob breathed out, peering down at Reigen, who gave him a tight smile in return.

“Yeah, he’s really helped Koji so much,” Aya continued with a smile, watching Reigen with soft eyes. Reigen couldn’t imagine that she would look at him like that if she knew what Yamato had done. “When his Kaa-san had passed, Koji was—”

“I was aggrieved,” Yamato interrupted with a sigh. “Despite our differences, she was my Kaa-san and Reigen-san gave me another chance to speak with her—to make my peace—it was all thanks to him.”

“It was nothing,” Reigen whispered through clenched teeth and the need to leave festering within him. He needed to get Mob away from Yamato. The man was too dangerous. “Please don’t thank me.”

“We’re indebted to you, Reigen-san.”

Aya shook her head, leaning against Yamato, who wrapped an arm around her waist to tuck her and Hiro close to his side. Yamato pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, utter softness in his eyes that had been filled with malice and hunger only moments earlier.

Something inside Reigen itched at sight of the act Yamato had no problem playing in front of him.

It was disgusting.

What had he told Aya for her to fawn over Reigen like this?

“Your Shishou is an amazing man,” Yamato praised, lips crooking and eyes lighting up with glee. “He’s helped me a lot and I’ve learned so much from him.”

Even with this odd conversation that Aya seemed oblivious to, the tension didn’t leave Mob, whose body was rigid against Reigen’s.

“Yes, Reigen-shishou is amazing,” Mob agreed, face still blank.

“That he is, Kageyama-kun,” Yamato murmured, mouth opening to spill more lies before a cry from Hiro cut him off. “Ah, Aya—here—I can take him.”

He hated him, Reigen mused, watching Yamato rock Hiro with a quiet hum.

The sight of Aya watching Yamato and Hiro with such tenderness made something sick make its home within his heart.

Yamato was horrible.

How could he act so normal after everything? As if he hadn’t assaulted Reigen after dragging him off and almost… Ah, he had almost—

Reigen suddenly gagged, making Mob startle. “Shishou?”

He wanted to throw and weep at the same time, and Reigen would have if he were to look at Yamato again to see the glee that would be ever present in his eyes. He wanted to go home.

“Hurts. Mob—my ankle—it hurts.”

His ankle hurt, but Reigen was sure his heart and soul were in a deeper agony. Yamato had torn open that still healing wound, creating a fissure that bled freely and soaked the earth beneath him.

Mob’s gaze snapped down to lock onto Reigen’s swollen and already bruising ankle.

“Oh—ah—let me carry you,” Mob fretted, correcting himself moments later when Reigen shuddered. “On my back. I’ll carry you to the first aid station—or Ritsu.”

He wanted to ask why Mob would take him to Ritsu, though he didn’t get to when Yamato’s voice cut through Hiro’s wails.

“You should get that looked at soon. I think it’s a sprain, but… hopefully it’s not anything too bad. You should be more careful, Reigen-san,” Yamato interrupted, rocking Hiro gently.

“Mhm, yes. Please be more careful!” Aya agreed, eyes sliding from Hiro and Yamato to Reigen. “It was fortunate that Koji was around to help you.”

Despite not wanting to speak to them any further, he knew silence would do nothing more than make Mob curious. If there was one thing Reigen had always prided himself on, it was treating clients well, even if Yamato was anything but that. But to Mob, Yamato was a past client of Reigen’s.

The last thing Reigen needed was Mob asking questions.

“I will. Thank you.”

“Of course,” Yamato smiled, passing Hiro over to Aya, who fussed over him. “It’s the least I could do after everything you’ve done for me—and my family.”

Reigen gave Yamato a tight smile, his neck throbbing while feeling Mob’s eyes burn into the side of his head.

“We’ll have to chat sometime against soon, Reigen-san,” Yamato continued, looking over to where Aya had made a beeline to a stroller off to the side. Yamato smiled again, turning in Aya’s direction, only to stop to glance back at Mob. “It was nice meeting you, Kageyama-kun.”

Mob nodded with a straight face, though he didn’t speak.

Just when he thought Yamato was out of his hair, he was proven wrong again. Yamato had taken only two steps before glancing over his shoulder and calling out to Mob again.

“Oh, and kid,” Yamato called out, lips crooking in laughter. “Keep an eye on that one, won’t you? He’s a troublemaker.”

With that, Yamato left to rejoin Aya, the crowd hiding them from their line of sight, and it was as if Reigen had imagined everything. One moment Yamato was taking him apart and the next, Mob was at his side.

“…Who was that?” Mob asked, clearing his throat and looking away from the direction that Yamato and his family had disappeared.

It was only after Yamato had left and Reigen was safe with Mob, that he found himself weeping despite his attempts to stop himself. It only caused Mob to fret and gently guide him over to a bench several feet away in the opposite direction Yamato had gone.

“Reigen-shishou?”

He couldn’t respond over the exhaustion, pain and his mind drifting elsewhere—not while the fear was still present, despite how Reigen tried to muzzle it. He was tired of it all and he just wanted it to stop.

“Shishou, what's wrong?”

“M-Mob—”

“Is it your ankle?” Mob asked, carefully seating Reigen on the bench and then crouching down in front of him.

Mob’s hands twitched towards his injured ankle, before freezing to peer up at him with worry. It made Reigen’s heart clench at the sight of Mob worrying about making him spiral or destroy their relationship if he were to touch him.

At his nod, Mob slowly and gently eased Reigen’s geta off, eyeing his swollen and bruised ankle with a frown. Mob looked away from his ankle to the rest of him, as if trying to uncover any other injury he had missed.

“Are there any other injuries—”

He wouldn’t be able to find the ones Yamato had left beneath his yutaka, nor the weeping and gaping wound torn open again by Yamato tonight. He just wanted to go home now, to shove this memory to the back of his mind like the tie Mob had gifted Reigen had pushed into the back of his closet after Yamato.

“I want to go home.”

“Home? Ah, okay,” Mob mumbled, digging into his pocket to fish his cellphone out, sending a quick text as he peered up and into Reigen’s teary stare. “I’ll take you home, Shishou. But… Uhm, we have to wait for Ritsu, if that’s okay?”

Reigen nodded slowly, quietly weeping and trying to breathe past the fear that had wrapped its cold hands around his heart. But then, just as suddenly, there were only warm and rough hands touching him.

It took Reigen a second to realize that it was Mob pulling his own hands away from where they had begun to claw at the scar on his temple unconsciously.

He blinked up at Mob blearily, who was standing in front of him and studying him with concern heavy on his face. Mob had a strange look on his face, eyeing where his scar was hidden beneath tufts of gold, lips twisting before he sat down next to Reigen without releasing his hand.

Even though he didn’t want to wait, Mob said that they had to and Reigen wouldn’t question it.

Though he wanted to do nothing more than go home, desperately so, leaning against Mob to try to soothe himself.

After all, he was safe with Mob, wasn’t he?

Hesitantly, Mob threw an arm over his shoulder to tuck Reigen closer to his side, while humming a quiet tune. He still held Mob’s other hand in his lap, trembling with the desire to return to clawing at his skin until only the rot beneath remained.

The tension in Mob’s body and the tightness in his eyes were enough for Reigen to know that Mob knew something had happened beyond his injured ankle.

Because Mob knew Reigen like the back of his hand.

The thought terrified him as much as it warmed his heart, making it throb with an emotion he couldn’t understand.

“…Is it okay if we wait for Ritsu?” Mob asked again, voice just above a whisper, and if they weren’t pressed against one another, Reigen wouldn’t have heard him. “If you don’t want to, I can take you home right now? Ah, it’s just that Ritsu can heal your ankle.”

“Since when?” he rasped between sobs, tucking his head against the crook of Mob’s neck, who rested his chin on top of Reigen’s head.

Reigen knew if he were to look up and pull his face from where he had hidden it against Mob’s neck, he would find them getting stares. Though had no energy to care or feel embarrassed after everything that had happened.

“Ritsu’s been learning from that esper Shou knows…. I can’t remember his name,” Mob explained, chest rumbling while he continued to hum quietly under his breath in between his words. I’m learning, too. But it’s hard. You need to have a good understanding of the human body and what you’re trying to heal.”

He allowed himself to soak in Mob’s warmth and protection, listening to the husk in his voice and losing himself within his gentle words.

“Ritsu is amazing… He wants to be a doctor, so he knows better than I do—"

A part of Reigen felt guilty for soaking Mob’s yukata in tears while he tried to comfort him. Reigen reminded himself to apologize later, when he wasn’t so out of it and this had become a distant memory.

“I’m going to keep trying to get better so I can take care—"

It was to Mob’s quiet voice that he lost himself in, that Reigen’s sobs tapered off and he was finally pulled back into the present by Ritsu’s voice. Through teary and blurry eyes, he caught sight of Ritsu standing in front of them wearing a simple beige yukata with a brown haori.

“Nii-san, you texted me?”

“Ritsu.”

He didn’t want to pull himself away from Mob, nor did it seem his disciple wanted to either with how he tucked Reigen closer against him, rubbing soothing circles against his hand with his thumb while speaking to Ritsu.

“What happened?”

Reigen continued to drift between unconsciousness and wakefulness to the sound of their voices.

“I’m… I’m not too sure? I was told that Shishou fell and sprained his ankle.”

“You were told?”

“Ah, there was a… man,” Mob muttered, chest rumbling and Reigen latched onto that sound, allowing it to lull him further into sleep. “And a woman. But the man said he knew Shishou—from before—I think he was an old client?”

Ritsu hummed quietly in response. The sound of him shuffling was Reigen’s only warning before a gentle hand settled on his ankle. Making him flinch with a quiet gasp, pain sparking at the touch.

“It’s okay, Reigen-shishou. It’s just Ritsu,” Mob’s quiet croon, raking his hand through Reigen’s hair now instead, while Ritsu checked his ankle.

“Are you sure there’s no other injury?” at that question, Reigen blearily blinked down to where Ritsu was crouched in front of him. His gaze drifted from Reigen’s ankle to his teary and swollen eyes with worry. “It’s not a bad sprain… I can heal it mostly, but you made it sound like he had broken his foot.”

“I wasn’t sure. Shishou seemed to be in a lot of pain.”

Ritsu’s lips pursed, eyes skittering over Reigen’s body before landing on his wrist. His heart leapt into his throat at Ritsu’s stare, gaze locked onto his wrist while Reigen’s mind tried to flicker through the list of injuries Yamato engraved into his body tonight.

“Nii-san,” Ritsu started to say, licking his lip before his eyes drifted to Mob. “Can you get some ice from the first aid station? I can heal it up fine, but the ice will help with any residual swelling.”

“Oh, of course,” Mob agreed, slowly easing himself away from Reigen, only getting to his feet once he was certain he was comfortable.

“I’ll watch over him while you’re gone.”

Mob flushed, biting his lip, and nodding before disappearing into the crowd with one last worried glance.

The situation only seemed to worsen as the night continued, Reigen mused darkly, watching Ritsu study him.

It was one thing to deal with Mob’s concern and curiosity, but to have to manage Ritsu’s as well. He didn’t stand a chance. Not when Ritsu had a sharp eye, something that Reigen guiltily thought mob had Mob never really developed.

“What happened?” Ritsu inquired again, examining his ankle for a moment before his hand lit up with his powers.

“I fell,” Reigen croaked.

Ritsu’s eyes snapped up to stare at him in disbelief. “You fell?”

“Yeah.”

For a moment, neither of them said anything, watching silently as the swelling and bruising faded. Ritsu hummed quietly, examining his ankle against closely, turning it this way and that, before setting Reigen’s foot back down after sliding his geta back on for him.

“Hmph, must have been quite a fall to cause that.” 

A large hand snapped out to grab his wrist seconds later, deceptively gentle, and loose enough to give Reigen a chance to free himself from Ritsu’s hold if he wished. But Reigen didn’t, not when he knew to do so, would only further Ritsu’s curiosity.

“It was a pretty bad fall, Ritsu.”

“Mhm, I’m sure that it was.”

“It was.”

Ritsu scoffed. “What kind of fall would leave a bruise like this?”

Reigen’s words caught in his throat when Ritsu pushed the sleeve of his yutaka up to reveal the hand shaped bruised on it.

“I…”

“Reigen-san.”

“It’s not—I fell.”

With a deep sigh, Ritsu’s hand lit up with his powers once more and the bruise on Reigen’s wrist faded. Ritsu studied his wrist carefully, turning it gently and humming softly in approval, finding his work acceptable.

He waited for Ritsu to stand up and leave after having completed his job, but Reigen knew he wouldn’t. Not with the look in his eyes while he ignored the curious stares from people walking past them and released Reigen’s wrist.

Reigen cleared his throat, sniffling softly. “Uhm, maybe we should go find Mob and—”

Unfortunately, Ritsu never was known for his patience. “Who touched you?”

“W-what?” he stuttered, choking on his words and staring at Ritsu dumbly. “N-no one.”

Though this wasn’t a surprise, was it? Ritsu wasn’t known for beating around the bush.

Ritsu scoffed, unimpressed. “Why are you lying?”

“I’m not.”

“Sure, you aren’t,” Ritsu muttered, tilting his head to the side and still watching him with those intelligent eyes. Reigen swallowed the lump in his throat, barely resisting the urge to fidget with his scarf, hoping and praying it covered the marks left on his throat. “I’ll ask again… Who. Touched. You?”

“I…”

He was close to spitting some lie or the other, instead of letting Ritsu stare at him while he stumbled over his words.

But there was no lie he could give that Ritsu would accept. He was too observant and not the type to let things go, and not again after the train incident. If he refused to answer Ritsu now, would he just ask again with Mob present?

Reigen was scared to find out.

“J-just promise that you won’t say anything to Mob,” Reigen whispered, fiddling with the sleeves of his haori in discomfort.

“I won’t.”

“Promise me.”

At his quiet plea, Ritsu’s brows furrowed. “I promise I won’t tell Nii-san.”

“It was just… just some random man—he was trying to…” what?

Rob him?

It was a half lie, like with Dimple before, Reigen decided, gaze drifting from Ritsu to glance at the surrounding crowd.

He really didn’t want to tell Ritsu this, and there were a million reasons he shouldn’t. With the biggest reason being that Ritsu was a child and Mob’s brother, who was the last person he wanted involved in this.

“Trying to what?” Ritsu asked, squinting at him suddenly, stare fixating on Reigen’s neck, making his hand snap up to his scarf. He was relieved to still find it in place, but the deep frown on Ritsu’s face extinguished any relief Reigen felt. “What’s wrong with your neck?”

“N-nothing!”

“Reigen-san.”

“I said that there’s nothing wrong!”

Ritsu exhaled deeply from his nose before speaking, words steady. “Please don’t lie to me. You might be able to fool Nii-san, but not me.”

“Why do you…” care, Reigen almost said, biting the inside of his cheek until he tasted iron.

He struggled to understand why Ritsu would care about this at all, unless it affected Mob. But this wasn’t just about Mob. Reigen knew that. It would be cruel of him to say that Ritsu didn’t care for him when he knew he did.

After all, Ritsu doted on Reigen in his own way, didn’t he?

(“Huh? What’s this?” Reigen asked, eyeing the takeout bag Ritsu set on his desk before drifting back to the couch where he shrugged his black jacket off to reveal his grey shirt and black jeans. “Ritsu?”

“Lunch,” Ritsu explained, throwing his coat over the back of the couch as he sat down with a grunt.

Reigen sighed, resisting the urge to pull at the loose threads on his white turtleneck and grey slacks to give him something to do other than claw at his neck.

“…Ah, I can see that, but why?”

“You didn’t eat anything for lunch,” Ritsu grumbled, pulling his phone from his jeans and focusing on it, rather than Reigen.

To anyone else’s eye, it might have seemed like Ritsu wasn’t paying attention to Reigen, but he knew he was. Ritsu was watching him from the corner of his eye while Reigen opened the bag to look at what was inside.

“Oh, this is…”

“Yeah… Nii-san mentioned you liked the soba at that restaurant you two went to a few weeks ago.”

Ritsu cleared his throat in discomfort, and when Reigen peered over at him, his face was flushed red while he fidgeted with his phone.

How sweet, Reigen mused with a smile.

“…You didn’t have to do that. That place is so far!” he mumbled, pulling the soba container and chopsticks out to set them on his desk.

“It’s fine.”

“Ritsu—”

“I said, it’s fine.”

With a sigh, he smiled softly. “Well… Uhm, thank you.”

He waited for Ritsu to spit out a, 'I’m doing this for, Nii-san', but the words never came. Instead, Ritsu continued to fidget with his phone, the tension in his body easing with every bite of his food Reigen took.

Reigen wasn’t sure how to feel about this all, but his heart still warmed at the care and kindness Ritsu showed him.

It made something loosen around his heart to know how deeply the others cared for him. Even if Reigen didn’t deserve it, he still basked in it all the same.)

“Reigen-san?”

At his name and the tension in Ritsu’s voice, he was pulled from his thought, blinking down into Ritsu’s concerned stare.

“Oh… Ah, it’s… Uhm, don’t tell—”

“Nii-san. I won’t. I promised you already.”

Reigen nodded, fidgeting with his scarf and glancing at the crowd around them warily. He didn’t want to remove his scarf to show Ritsu what had happened to him, nor did he want anyone else to see.

He couldn’t bear the thought of laying his shame out in the open like this for everyone to see. Because people would know that Reigen was—

(“Such a whore,” Yamato crooned, lips pressing against his and swallowing Reigen’s cry. “You want this don’t you?”)

It was as if Ritsu read his mind with how he stood up from his crouch to his full height, still watching Reigen for any signs of a panic attack. But like this, he was blocking Reigen from the sight of the crowd around him.

With a lick of his lips, he shuddered before he spoke again. “Just… don’t freak out, okay?”

Ritsu’s face twitched, eyes narrowing while he nodded as Reigen snuck another glance around to confirm Mob wasn’t nearby. Slowly, he tugged the scarf down, flushing in shame at the dawning horror on Ritsu’s face.

What was Ritsu thinking after having laid his eyes on the constellation of bruises and bite marks on Reigen’s neck?

There was no doubt Ritsu found the gift Yamato left him that day at the office when his eyes narrowed in on the crook of Reigen’s neck.

“What the fuck?”

“Ritsu…”

“What the fuck?” Ritsu rasped, stepping closer with his hand coming up slowly.

The familiar scent of lime, lilac and armoise hit him when Ritsu leaned closer. It was soothing, not just because he associated it with Mob, but because Ritsu meant safety and protection too, right?

Ritsu was giving Reigen ample time to pull away, but he didn’t move and did nothing more that twitch to keep himself from recoiling from the warm hand settling on his neck.

Moments later he felt coldness, then warmth, signalling Ritsu was healing the injuries left on his throat.

Did it look like he had been mauled by some animal?

It felt as if Reigen had been attacked by a monster, and he had been, hadn’t he?

Neither of them said anything for several minutes while Ritsu healed him and Reigen did everything he could to avoid that dark and wide-eyed stare. Several moments later, Ritsu pulled away, eyes darting between Reigen’s neck and face.

“Reigen-san…”

“Happy?” Reigen whispered, tugging his scarf back into place, tighter now that there was no bandage on his neck to cover his scar, either.

“No.”

“Neither am I,” he laughed wetly, drooping in his seat with Ritsu sitting down next to him seconds later.

For several minutes, Ritsu said nothing, content to watch the surrounding crowd silently, hands clasped in his lap, and lips pressed into a thin line. When Ritsu finally cleared his throat, he slanted a look towards him, waiting for… What?

Anger?

Disgust?

Hate?

Or was it something else he was expecting?

“Who was it?” Ritsu finally said.

He wished people would stop asking him that, Reigen reflected, eyeing the resolve on Ritsu’s face. The Kageyama family was a force of nature, weren’t they?

“No one that you know.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Ritsu snapped, fists now clenched in his lap. “Just give me a name and I’ll… I’ll…”

“You’ll what?”

“I’ll kill them.”

Reigen couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped him, a mix of fondness and exhaustion. Ritsu’s face was awash in fury, eyebrows furrowed, jaw clenched and bloodlust in his gaze.

This was too much kindness for someone like Reigen, and when there was nothing left to save.

With a soft smile, he chuckled lightly, refusing to involve Ritsu or anyone else in this further. “You can’t.”

“I can!”

“Hm,” Reigen hummed softly, gaze darting to the side where Mob was a distance away and struggling to push through the heavy crowd to reach them. “It was no one important. They’re probably gone now… These things happen.”

Ritsu scoffed, fists trembling in his lap still. “How the hell can you be so damn calm about this?!”

Was there any need to answer that question, when they both knew this wasn’t the first time Reigen had suffered through this?

At his silence, Ritsu’s face crumpled in understanding. “It’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair, Ritsu.”

“I’m not… I…”

With a sigh, he set a hand on Ritsu’s shoulder, making the anger wash away for confusion and hurt.

So young and too naïve, Reigen thought with an internal grimace.

He hated being the one to kill that naivety, but he couldn’t allow Ritsu to involve himself in this or use his powers to harm another person—putting his future at risk for some, like Reigen.

Reigen wouldn’t allow Ritsu or anyone else do that for him.

Unbidden, his eyes snapped back over to where Mob was closer now, but still pushing his way through the crowds to get to him. Sometimes he forgot how busy this festival could be.

“It’s okay,” he said, trying to soothe Ritsu.

“How can you say that—you can’t really believe that!?” Ritsu shot back, finally catching sight of Mob when he reached them and was several feet away.

“Right now, I’m fine,” was what Reigen went with instead, sending Mob a smile and getting one in return.

“Reigen-san—”

“I’m here with you and Mob, there’s nowhere I would be safer,” Reigen declared softly, glancing from Mob to Ritsu. Even to his own ears, Reigen struggled to believe his words. He wouldn’t always be around Mob and Ritsu, would he? “I’m okay.”

“You’re so full of shit.”

“Maybe.”

“Nii-san—”

“You promised not to tell him.”

“I know!” Ritsu snarled, vein pulsing on his forehead as he stumbled to his feet, turning to stare down at Reigen with enraged eyes. “I won’t. But don’t think I’m going to leave it at this.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you,” Reigen singsonged with a brittle smile.

Ritsu scoffed again, crossing his arms in agitation as Mob finally rejoined them with a bag of ice in hand.

“I’m sorry it took me so long. I had to go to a first aid stand further away. The one closet to us didn’t have any ice, and—”

“It’s okay,” Reigen soothed Mob, taking the bag of ice offered to him and placing it on his ankle that he propped on his thigh. He was putting all his energy into trying to keep it together, while avoiding Ritsu’s heated glare and Mob’s concerned stare. “I appreciate it. Thank you.”

Mob nodded, eyeing Reigen’s ankle before grinning at Ritsu. “Ritsu, you healed it! Thank you. It looked great.”

“Mhm, like I said. His ankle wasn’t that injured. But I healed it as best as I could. He should still stay on it, since it’s still tender,” Ritsu explained, before clearing his throat and rolling his eyes at the look Reigen shot him. “Are you two going to join us or…”

“Uhm, I think I’ll take Shishou home?” Mob said, glancing at Reigen in question, who nodded silently.

He couldn’t stand to stay a second longer. The thought of running into Yamato again made fear and anxiety spike within him, threatening to make him spiral once more.

Though the thought of forcing Mob to change his plans soured Reigen’s mood further. He already derailed Mob’s plans tonight enough, hadn’t he?

“Mob, you don’t have to stay with me. I can walk home on my own.”

His words didn’t match his current state, not with how his voice and body shook. He wasn’t fooling anyone, was he?

Mob frowned; face pinched in worry. “Shishou, I don’t think you should be alone right now.”

Ritsu nodded in agreement, staring at Reigen in disbelief. “Nii-san is right. Let him take you home.”

He was close to arguing back, but the battle had been lost before it had begun.

Reigen shrugged after a moment, trying to smother the relief thrumming within him at having Mob stay at his side. He was always safe with Mob and yearned for the protection he exuded.

Even if Reigen knew the last thing he should do was have Mob take him back home, not when he knew about his feelings now and shouldn’t want his protection.

But nothing would happen when Mob had been nothing but respectful, always at Reigen’s side as a friend and disciple.

“Fine… Ah, let’s… let’s go,” Reigen said, taking the hand Mob offered him push off the bench.

Like that, they quickly found themselves heading back to his apartment, with Mob carrying Reigen on his back, much to his embarrassment. Though he didn’t linger on the shame long with the exhaustion weighting on him, making his eyes struggle to stay open.

The stars twinkled above them, the air crisp and humid, with the sound of Mob’s quiet footsteps filling the streets. Until Mob hummed quietly, hiking Reigen up hair on his back using his powers to keep him from slipping before speaking.

“Uhm, Shishou,” Mob stated to say, making Reigen shift where his head was resting on his shoulder with a quiet huff.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a question?

“I mean, you just asked me one, but… Mhm, sure.”

Mob rolled his eyes with a soft laugh, stepping around a group of pedestrians and crossing the street. He didn’t want to look back to see if anyone was eyeing them strangely. Reigen already felt as he should have limped home, rather than used Mob as a crutch.

“Who was that man?” Mob finally asked, unaware that the question ripped Reigen out from the beginnings of sleep. His body tensed involuntarily, and he knew Mob must have felt it and heard his quiet hitch of breath, with how he rushed to calm him. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to tell me.”

Reigen bit his lip, willing his eyes to stop burning alongside the scar on his neck. His arms tightened around Mob’s neck, chin resting on a broad shoulder while he forced himself to speak.

“He’s an old client… from a long time ago.”

Mob said nothing for a moment, turning the corner to Reigen’s street. It was quiet at this time, and Mob took care to not make too much noise when he reached the steps to the stairwell.

“I don’t remember him,” Mob mused out loud.

“It was before we met,” the lie slipped from Reigen easily. The guilt was a lump in his throat that he tried to swallow past. “You wouldn’t know him.”

Humming a soft tune, Mob took his answer without question and with the trust he always had in Reigen. Who clenched his eyes shut, trying to savour the warmth and protection Mob radiated.

Of course, Mob wouldn’t question him.

Even if he had, how could he have even told Mob the truth that Yamato had broken him after Reigen had chased him away—that Reigen had offered himself up on a silver platter to Yamato?

It was better this way; he could only hope Mob never crossed paths with Yamato again. The thought of that made revulsion slither in his stomach. He didn’t want Yamato in the same room as Mob, let alone the same city or planet.

What if Yamato tried to hurt Mob in the same way?

But would he, a voice in the back of Reigen’s mind asked him.

After all, what reason would Yamato have to go after Mob, who was a good person, unlike Reigen?

Yamato had punished Reigen for conning him and being a bad person, hadn’t he?

His just deserts, Reigen told himself darkly, blinking the beginnings of tears from his eyes and sniffling quietly.

“—cold?”

“Sorry, what?”

“Are you cold?” Mob asked, taking two steps at a time on the staircase when Reigen’s trembling increased.

“Ah, just a little,” he lied again. How many times had he lied to Mob tonight? “It’s okay, we’re almost home. Uhm, I’m almost home.”

Mob said nothing while Reigen stumbled over his words, the staircase clanking under his feet until they finally arrived at Reigen’s front door moments later.

“Careful,” Mob murmured, easing Reigen off his back, hands slowly coming up to grab him when he stumbled.

“Ah, sorry—wow. Ritsu really did a good job,” Reigen said, pressing his foot down and wincing at the slightest twinge of pain.

It was nothing like the utter agony from before.

Face brightening at the mention of Ritsu, Mob beamed at him. “Yeah, Ritsu’s amazing. He’ll be an amazing doctor one day.”

“Hmph, Dr. Kageyama…”

“It sounds good, right?”

“Mhm, yeah, it does,” he agreed, unlocking his door to step in with Mob hovering at his side, ready to catch him as he slowly sat down at the genkan. “Ha, geez… Hopefully he’ll have a good bedside manner. Can you help me take these off? My foot is a bit swollen…”

Mob nodded, shutting the door and crouching down in front of Reigen to help him remove his getas. Though the amusement disappeared the moment Reigen hissed in pained as he slid the geta off his injured foot, jostling his ankle.

“Ah, sorry!”

“No, it’s okay. Thanks for helping me.”

The relieved smile Mob gave him had Reigen flushing. He still struggled to get used to how Mob doted on him—the kindness and softness he treated Reigen with—that he knew he shouldn’t encourage.

Not when he could never reciprocate Mob’s feelings.

It would be cruel of him to give Mob the idea he felt the same.

This crush or love—whatever it was—needed to be subverted, Reigen reminded himself.

At least until Mob finally got over it and realized Reigen wasn’t deserving of it, and that he needed to find someone better.

A pretty girl his own age, who was kind, sweet and everything Mob deserved.

Not someone broken and repulsive.

Anything but a fraud, liar and bad person.

Mob deserved someone who was a good person, and that someone wasn’t Reigen—

“Reigen-shishou?” at his name, Reigen blinked, gaze snapping up to find Mob standing, and no longer crouched in front of him. “Are you okay? Is it your ankle?”

No, Reigen wasn’t okay.

How could he be when he had to hold it together to keep himself from falling apart again after running into Yamato—after finding that monster under his bed again?

He would never be okay, would he?

But he just had to hold it together for now, right?

After Mob left, he could fall apart once more and then Reigen could finally get clean.

Like every single time before, he would try to and fail to wash away the decay that had settled into his skin—no, beyond that—in his very heart and soul. He would never be clean again. Reigen knew that.

Yet, he plastered a smile to his lips, swallowing the wails that wanted to break free from his fracturing heart.

He needed to keep it together for Mob.

For Mob, always.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It just hurts a bit. But it’s nothing that some ice and rest won’t fix.”

Mob nodded in agreement, eyes drifting around his apartment until his stare settled on the little side table Reigen had near the front door. He wanted to slam his head into the wall, because he had left his medication on the table in his rush to get ready that morning.

Though, Mob said nothing about it, glancing away from it and to Reigen again, while rocking back on back on his heals with a tender smile.

“Will you be okay by yourself?”

“Yeah,” he said, taking the hand Mob offered him to pull him to his feet.

At his answer, Mob squinted at him, eyeing his swollen and red eyes. No doubt thinking back on Reigen’s meltdown at the festival over a sprained ankle. Something that Mob wasn’t buying, despite not pushing any further. Mob pressed his lips into a thin line, tilting his head before licking his lips.

“Uhm…” Mob started to say, searching Reigen’s face. “Did you want me to summon Dimple?”

“I…”

Did he want Dimple here?

Reigen knew Dimple was out with Teru and keeping him company during the Lineage Festival after Teru declared he would prefer to spend it on his own. He didn’t want to interrupt that, but the thought of being alone when Yamato was somewhere in the city made something ache within him in fear.

He couldn’t stand to be by himself when there was the risk Yamato could find him once more and tear him apart again.

But he also couldn’t ask Mob to stay either.

It wasn’t a couldn’t, so much as Reigen absolutely refused to humour the idea, even as his mind drifted back to the times Mob had stayed over in the past—before—when things had been normal.

Yes, the before, when he hadn’t been broken and warped into this rotten thing, Reigen reflected, studying Mob who waited patiently for him to speak.

“Yes. Please,” he whispered, fidgeting with the sleeves of his haori.

His gaze scurried away from Mob’s, unable to swallow or fathom the love, softness and kindness that he found within them. He couldn’t fathom or understand what Mob could love about him, and even now he bit down on his lip to swallow the questions that wanted to escape him.

Why do you love me?

How could you love me?

“Okay,” Mob finally said, tilting his head and moments later, Dimple appeared, casting a green glow around them.

“Yo. You rang?” Dimple greeted, eyes drifting from between them, before snapping back to Reigen. “What the hell happened to you!?”

“Hey, Dimple.”

“Don’t hey me! What the hell?” Dimple said, taking in Reigen’s swollen and red eyes alongside the dry tear tracks. Reigen imagined he painted quite the picture. At least Ritsu had healed the more obvious injuries and the ones that couldn’t be hidden beneath his clothing. “What happened?!”

Mob startled at the question directed at him, heavy with an accusation. “Uhm, he sprained his ankle.”

“He sprained his ankle?”

“Yes,” Mob whispered, face twisting strangely.

He couldn’t breathe at the look on Mob’s face.

Mob didn’t believe him, Reigen realized numbly.

Though, could he truly be surprised when Reigen had acted as if his life was all but ending, when he broke down in front of Mob over a sprained ankle?

No, Mob didn’t believe him, not with how he had stared Yamato down earlier with the beginnings of curiosity and distaste settling in his eyes. Mob knew something was wrong—that something had happened—and Reigen couldn’t let him find out.

Reigen couldn’t allow Mob meet Yamato again.

“Shige-chan, what’s with this?” Dimple bemoaned, pinching the bridge of his nose and shooting Reigen a look. A talk would be had after Mob left; he knew Dimple wouldn’t stop until he knew what happened. “I take my eyes off you two for a second and one of you is injured.”

“Ah… Sorry?” Mob mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was looking for him, but when I found him… Uhm, he was injured.”

“Do I need to put trackers on you two?”

“Ah…”

Taking pity on Mob, Reigen clapped his hands together, getting their attention and giving them a thin smile. “As much as I want to chat all night long, I’m exhausted.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Mob apologized, hurrying to open the front door and step outside, pausing just at the threshold. “Ah, is there anything else you need me to do? Do you need me to grab anything or—”

“Mob,” at that, Mob’s mouth clicked shut, and with a flush he fiddled with the sleeves of his yutaka. Reigen sighed fondly, lips quirking into a grin. “I’ll be fine. Seriously. Dimple is here.”

“Yeah, kid, calm down. Nothing is going to happen to this loser while I’m around.”

Rolling his eyes, he ignored Dimple’s barb and hobble closer to Mob, who watches quietly as he neared. Mob flushed further when Reigen wrapped his arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug.

“Ah?” Mob croaked in confusion, hands hovering at his side, though he shot Dimple a glare at his snort.

“Thank you,” Reigen whispered, tightening his hold for a moment, breathing in Mob’s scent before he released him and pulled away. At Mob’s confused stare, he continued while Dimple drifted into the apartment somewhere. “For getting me back home and for helping me with my ankle.”

Thank you for saving me today.

He could never thank Mob enough for everything—for being the anchor that kept Reigen grounded, keeping him from drifting and ending it all.

“You don’t have to thank me. You’re my Shishou, of course I’ll take care of you.”

Reigen still couldn’t believe that the universe had been so kind to show him this one kindness all those years ago by letting Mob find him, and for letting him find Mob in turn.

“Hmph, will you now?”

“Uh, Ah, y-yes?”

With a snort, he shook his head, resisting the urge to reach up and ruffle Mob’s hair until it was left in a disarray. For a moment, Mob studied him, searching for something that made Reigen shift in discomfort.

“Shishou,” Mob started to say, fussing with a sleeve of his yukata, biting his lips red. “Uhm, if… if anything is wrong, I’m here to listen. Ah, I mean, if you want to talk—not that you have to—”

At Mob’s stumbling, and deepening flush while he tried to clearly speak his thoughts, Reigen sighed. He was touched by Mob trying to respect his boundaries but still wanting to be there for him.

How had Reigen gotten so lucky to have someone as kind as Mob fall into his life?

“I know, Mob. Thank you.”

Unbidden, Reigen wondered what would have happened if he were to tell Mob was had transpired today.

What if it was Mob who had found out instead of Ritsu or instead of Aya, it was Mob that had stumbled upon Yamato pressing Reigen against the tree?

Would he have blamed Reigen for having caused his own misfortune?

As soon as that thought struck him, he felt ill. Mob would never do that, even if Reigen felt he should.

Though it seemed that Ritsu was ready to deal with things. The reminder made him peer up at Mob thoughtfully.

Ritsu was speaking death threats earlier, ones he intended to see through, but… would Mob have done the unthinkable.

Reigen didn’t want to imagine Mob doing that.

He couldn’t handle failing Mob again, and so, he refused to consider the thought, making himself refocus on Mob instead.

“You better get back to your family. They’re waiting for you at the festival,” at Mob’s waffling, Reigen rolled his eyes and gave his broad shoulder a gentle nudge. “I’ll be fine. Dimple is here.”

Mob nodded slowly, biting his lip and stepping out into the warm summer heat. It was here, under the moonlight and dim lighting of his apartment hallway, that Reigen truly realized how much Mob had grown.

The light bounced off dark strands, that he followed down to eye the sharp angle of Mob’s jaw and then to the straight line of his nose. Even with how Mob had outgrown Reigen in height now, he still showed no signs of stopping.

His mind drifted back to the young boy who had stumbled into his office that day, barely coming up to his hip and with hope in his eyes.

How nostalgic.

“Have a good night, Mob. Tell your parents I said hi and that I’m sorry I couldn’t join you all.”

“I will. Have a good night, Shishou.”

Time flies, Reigen mused, biting his lip to keep himself from calling Mob back as he watched him disappear down the hallway to the stairwell.

It wouldn’t be right to do that to Mob, Reigen knew that. Even so, he couldn’t understand what was going on with his mind or heart. A part of him was missing Mob’s warmth and protection already, but another part that Reigen couldn’t understand, was wishing for something else. He couldn’t make sense of it, nor did he want to, so he chose to ignore the ache in his forlorn heart.

“Reigen, what are you doing?” Dimple called out from behind him.

At Dimple’s voice, Reigen looked over his shoulder. “What?”

“Why are you still standing out there?” Dimple asked, quirking a brown, despite the concern on his face. “Shige-chan’s gone. Get in here.”

With one last look in the direction Mob had disappeared, Reigen shut the front door, locking it before turning to wobble down the hallway to his bedroom and living area. He felt Dimple’s stare burning into him while he made a beeline to his closet, where he grabbed a change of clothes and then headed to the bathroom in silence.

Reigen would speak to Dimple after he had a shower.

One that would be blistering to the point it felt as if his skin would be sloughed off.

He had to get clean.

Despite knowing he would never be clean again, Reigen scrubbed his skin raw, ignoring how it stung and ached. None of his pain mattered, not when he needed to be clean.

Clean, clean, clean, clean—

“Reigen?” Dimple’s voice was loud, cutting through the sound of the shower through the bathroom door. A beat of silence before Dimple spoke again, voice muffled and concerned. “Reigen? Are you okay? You’ve been in there for over an hour.”

Was he losing time again, Reigen mused, turning the shower off with a shaking hand and shoving the shower door open to grab his towel from the rack.

Even though he had essentially showered with molten lava, he still felt cold.

“C-coming! Just a second,” he called out, stepping out of the shower to stand in front of the sink.

He stared tiredly at his reflection in the mirror, gaze skirting to the bruise on his biceps in the familiar shape of Yamato’s hands. A glance down lower to his hips and waist, and he could see more bruises colouring his body—like on his chest that Yamato’s greedy hands had groped when he had had pulled Reigen’s yutaka open.

Just one glance was already too much, and Reigen kept his eyes down and away from the mirror when he brushed his teeth until blood coated his toothbrush.

Clean. He had to be clean.

Throwing on a ratty old black shirt and green sweats, he stepped out of the bathroom, steam following him alongside Dimple’s eyes, who watched him idle in front of the bathroom door. Dimple’s stare didn’t pause on his neck, laid bare by his crewneck style pyjama top.

Why would it, when Dimple had already seen the scar Yamato had left?

A gift, Reigen’s mind reminded him, watching Dimple drift over to his bed.

Dimple sat down on it, patting the spot next to him and, just like that, Reigen could do nothing but stumble towards him and drop onto the bed with a sob.

The tears he had been holding at bay finally fell with every hitched gasp and hiccup. His shoulders shook, clammy hands clutching at his sheets like a lifeline, while his chest throbbed.

He was so tired of it all.

With a quiet cry, he shifted onto the bed fully, until he was sitting on it, wiping at his face while his chest rattled from his weeping.

“—Reigen?”

Reigen sniffled, head pounding while his tears showed no sign of stopping, gaze sliding down when Dimple sat down on his lap.

“Hey…” Dimple said calmly, words soft and just above a whisper. “I’ve been calling your name for a minute.”

“S-sorry…”

Dimple shook his head, waving the apology away. “What happened? Seriously, you’re freaking me out.”

He couldn’t bring himself to say that Yamato was back and everything Reigen had done had been for nothing—that it would only be a matter of time before he broke again.

How could he live, breathe and even try to be happy knowing that Yamato was back?

That there was a monster lurking in the city somewhere, and long would it be until he would darken Reigen’s doorstep once more?

Reigen was terrified and sick to his stomach.

It had him questioning if this was real, or whether he was in another nightmare that he would awake from soon enough.

“N-nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“Dimple…”

“Listen… I’m not going to force you to talk right now, okay?” Dimple muttered with a sigh, staring up at him with such kindness. That Reigen felt he didn’t deserve, even if he allow himself to have this for now. “But you gotta tell me—or someone—at some point.”

He knew Dimple was right. He always was, Reigen deliberated with a wordless nod.

“Whatever is upsetting you, I’m here for you. You’ll get through this. You’re an amazing guy and this is just a bump in the road, okay?”

Despite his tears, a small and wobbly smile pulled at his lips at the constant support from Dimple. He was forever grateful that Dimple was supporting him and not judging him. It helped ease the hurt in his chest, even if just a little.

“Whenever you're ready, I’m here. I’ll listen.”

“Can we…” Reigen started to say, pausing to glance at the clock on his nightstand. Sleep was calling to him. He wasn’t sure he had the energy to speak further of this tonight. Dimple must read his mind as he floated up and off Reigen’s lap to settle on his pillow. “Can we talk about it tomorrow?”

“Sure,” Dimple agreed, even though his eyes were scurrying over Reigen’s body and over bruises hidden beneath his pyjamas in search of injuries. “Whatever you want to do, we will.”

“Thank you.”

Rubbing his eyes while his chest heaved, Reigen bit down on his whimpers. He knew he had to tell someone—anyone—it didn’t matter.

But not now.

Reigen would tell Dimple tomorrow after he had time to breakdown and grieve the peace that had been snatched from his hands with the return of Yamato.

Dimple grinned, patting his head when Reigen flopped down on the pillow. “Hmph, don’t mention it. Now get some rest.”

With a sluggish nod, he let Dimple’s familiar scent, touch and warmth soothe him while exhaustion finally won.

─────────

He was running through the foliage with branches scratching his arms and face. Leaves and twigs crunched under his feet with every step. It sounded like gunshots in the silence of the forest.

Reigen had to escape to somewhere far from here, lest the monster caught him.

But he wouldn’t escape, would he?

Not when his foot was caught under a tree’s root and the ground was coming up to greet him, tearing a pained cry from him when he hit the hard earth. He scrambled to get on his hands and knees, sharp rocks and twigs digging into his palms when tried to push up to his feet.

Only for his legs to buckle when his ankle roared in pain, making him fall to the ground once more. Terror was suffocating him, the noose around his neck, while tears blurred his vision at the sound of twigs cracking echoing through the forest.

No. No, no, no, no—

Reigen had to get up and escape, or he would be caught.

If he was caught, then he would be cut open, torn, and flayed alive again by the monster under his bed.

“Please!” he keened breathlessly, scrambling on the ground and dragging his body from the figure that stepped out from the bushes a distance away behind him. “Don’t—!”

He can’t, won’t and will not survive being taken apart by Yamato again.

“Mob!” Reigen cried out, staring at the large shadowy figure.

Where was Mob?

Why wasn’t he here, Reigen thought, choking on his spit when the figured neared him as he scrambled to get away.

Clawing at the earth and rolling on to his back to shuffle away with tears blurring his vision until his back hit a tree. He blinked rapidly to clear his sight, eyes darting around in search of Mob and his warmth.

Mob would save him. He would be the one to warm the ice in Reigen’s heart and keep Yamato from breaking him once more.

“Mob!”

“Shh,” the figure crooned, finally stepping into the moonlight peaking through a gap in the trees. “Don’t cry.”

The scent of iron hung in the air alongside the smell of grass, wood, and terror.

Yet all he could smell was jasmine, sandalwood, and lilac.

Scents he adored and associated with protection, safety, warmth and adoration.

His heart stilled, breath catching in his through and words frozen on his lips at the sight greeting him.

This couldn’t be happening.

But it was.

How could Reigen have allowed this?

“No!” Reigen wailed, sagging against the tree. It felt as if his heart was breaking. “No, no, no—”

“Why are you crying?”

“Please… No… not you…"

“Shishou,” Mob whispered, crouching down in front of him, blood coating his clothes and dripping from his face. Reigen couldn’t look away from the red clinging to Mob’s lashes, nor stop himself from glancing down at the decapitated head clenched in Mob’s bloody hand. “Didn’t you want me to save you?”

“Not like this!”

“You’re safe now,” Mob murmured tenderly, releasing the head and letting it roll on the ground a distance away. It stopped and Reigen flinched at the sight of Yamato’s face, frozen in horror, staring at him. Mob humming quietly, gently grasping Reigen’s jaw in a bloody hand to turn his face away from Yamato and back to him. “Shishou.”

“Please, Mob, don’t tell me you… that you…”

He couldn’t get himself to say the words—to speak into existence what Mob had done.

“I did this for you,” Mob declared, rubbing soothing circles into Reigen’s jaw with a warm and gentle hand. His lips quirked when Reigen shook his head in terror. “Don’t you like it—my gift to you?”

“I never wanted this!”

“Didn’t you ask me to save you?”

“No!”

Mob tilted his head in amusement. “You did. Don’t lie to me. You wanted me to do this.”

Reigen choked on his words, struggling to lean away or into Mob’s touch. He couldn’t make sense of what was happening.

Was this real or a nightmare?

“I-I would never,” Reigen gasped wetly, breath bitching when Mob’s thumb brushed over his lips. “Y-you can’t use your—”

“Powers on people,” Mob finished for him, eyes crinkling in delight. “This is your fault.”

He tracked a droplet of blood that dripped from Mob’s lashes and down his face, jolting when he finally took in Mob’s words. Mob’s hands followed him when he recoiled back against the tree, cupping Reigen’s cheek lovingly, while the other still cradled his jaw.

What Mob was saying was at odds with the look in his eyes—softness and love—all while he was coated in blood.

“I-it isn’t! I never wanted this. I would never!”

Mob shook his head, a touch breathless as he chuckled. “You made me into a killer.”

This was his fault, Reigen realized, sobbing against the lips suddenly pressing to his own.

The taste of iron filled his mouth, making him gag and writhe beneath Mob.

He wasn’t sure if he was gagging in disgust from the taste of blood coating his mouth or for involving Mob and not being able to protect him from Reigen’s trauma.

It was his failure that must have led to this.

Because Reigen had been took weak, Mob had found out—he hadn’t been able to protect himself or Mob—the results of his failure were laid bare to him now. He was the one who would extinguish Mob’s future.

“Don’t cry, Reigen-shishou. I’m here now.”

Chapter Text

“—Reigen!”

He awoke to Dimple calling out to him, while Reigen jerked awake, clawing at his blankets that were tangled around his legs. Try as he might, he couldn’t get his lungs to work.

All he could feel was Mob’s lips against his and the taste of blood.

“Reigen!”

In his panic, he fell from the bed and to the floor, finally freeing himself from his blanket, despite the ache in his side from the fall.

“Shit!”

The nightmare was racing through his mind, because Reigen had failed to do the one thing he was supposed to do, and that was keeping Mob safe—away from Reigen’s trauma and to keep himself from ruining the one good thing in his life.

Try as he might, he couldn’t suck in enough air, not while Mob’s words echoed through his mind.

(“Don’t cry, Reigen-shishou. I’m here now.”)

Why couldn’t he breathe?

“Reigen!”

A splotch of green fluttered in front of him, that Reigen tried to see clearly through the tears that he blinked away, until Dimple was revealed.

“Dimple,” Reigen rasped, chest rattling with sobs. “Dimple.”

“Hey, hey—it’s okay!” Dimple said softly, words just above a whisper. “Just breathe.”

“I can’t.”

“Shh, you can. Just listen to my voice and focus on me.”

He tried for Dimple to breathe in and out in tune with the countdown that the spirit had going, even while his mind kept straying back to the nightmare that threatened to drag him back.

Eventually, Dimple was able to bring him back into himself.

Of course, Dimple would be able to help him, when he had become so used to Reigen’s breakdowns and was now an expert at pulling him back from the edge.

With shuddering breaths, Reigen laid down on the floor in exhaustion, tears slowing down and the cold floor soothing against his flushed cheek.

Dimple sighed softly, floating over to sit down next to his head on the floor. “You okay?”

“Yeah…”

“…Did you want to talk about it?”

Reigen couldn’t say if he wanted to talk about his nightmare, or what happened the previous night, despite saying he would speak to Dimple about it.

How could he speak about what had almost happened to him?

His silence was an answer Dimple took with a quiet exhale, saying nothing and settling in next to him more comfortably while they listened to the traffic outside and the clock on his nightstand tick.

It had to be early in the morning, Reigen mulled, gaze drifting from Dimple to the window where the sunrise had yet to make an appearance.

There was no point in trying to go back to sleep now with the risk of returning to that nightmare—he could feel Mob’s hands, lips and taste of his promise.

No, there wasn’t any point, was there?

He felt Dimple’s eyes on him when he staggered to his feet, body aching from the bruised left from Yamato he hadn’t shown Ritsu and the tumble off his bed. Dimple’s face pinched at the sight of him wincing, his eyes darting over Reigen’s body for any overt injury.

Not that he would find any.

“I’m gonna go shower,” he mumbled, grabbing a change of clothes from his closet before stumbling to the bathroom with Dimple watching on.

His morning routine was a blur, and he tried his hardest to keep his eyes from straying to the bathroom mirror throughout it. He didn’t want to see the state Yamato had left him in, nor the new injuries painted across his body.

Reigen would be eternally grateful that Ritsu had healed his ankle alongside his wrist and neck. His clothing could easily hide the other marks, even if they still hurt.

He had worse injuries before and could handle a bit of bruising, Reigen told himself, spitting his toothpaste out in the sink and ignoring the red tinge.

After all, it wasn’t as if Yamato had done that again, right?

So, did he even have a right to be so upset when nothing had truly occurred?

Unbidden, his mind drifted back to the spirit on the rooftop and her suffering. What was Reigen’s pain compared to the spirit’s, when she suffered in life and death?

“Reigen?” Dimple called out through the bathroom door. “You good?”

“Y-yeah! Sorry, just a minute!”

Setting his toothbrush aside, he licked his lips and took in a deep breath before glancing at the mirror. He wasn’t sure what sight he expected to greet him. Yamato had been careful and made sure not to touch Reigen’s face.

If he hadn’t known what was hidden beneath his clothing that he tugged on now, Reigen could have tricked himself into believing he had imagined it all.

There were no marks, bruised or anything out of the ordinary to see.

The sight of familiar dark circles and tired eyes stared back at him.

With a quiet sigh, he smoothed out his pale blue sweater and grey sweatpants, both loose and the least irritating against his injuries. He took another glance in the mirror, hating the sad eyes that stared back before leaving the bathroom and taking in the woman, short with black hair and wearing a simple grey sweater shirt with black jeans, seated on the couch.

At this point, he was accustomed to seeing Dimple in either Yoshioka’s body or some woman’s and did nothing more than quirk a brow and pat the spot next to him. Reigen sighed, heading to the couch and taking a seat.

Without missing a beat, Dimple grabbed a bowl of okayu from next to a glass of water from the coffee table that Reigen only just noticed and placed it in his lap.

“You didn’t have to make me anything…”

Dimple gave him a knowing look, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. “You didn’t eat anything last night. I thought something like this would be easier on your stomach.”

There was nothing Reigen could say to disagree with Dimple’s words, not when he was right, and so he began to eat his breakfast in silence.

He knew Dimple was waiting patiently for him to share what had happened and Reigen intended to, just once he figured out how to say it.

Was it really such a big deal or was he blowing it out of proportion, Reigen contemplated, forcing himself to finish his meal under Dimple’s watchful stare.

When his bowl was empty, Dimple took it and set it on the coffee table, before placing Reigen’s medication in his palm. He wondered if Dimple had started to count the pills in his medication bottles. Not that Reigen would blame him.

“Thank you.”

“Hmph, don’t mention it. Someone has to take care of you. Otherwise, you’ll just give yourself high cholesterol with all the shit you’ve been eating.”

Rolling his eyes with a huff, he three his pills back with a sip of water. “I have a well-balanced diet.”

“In what world is that true? Do you know how much sodium is in the stuff you eat?”

“Whatever.”

Dimple frowned, studying Reigen and eyeing the bags under his eyes. “I won’t force you to talk, but… I think you should—if not with me—then someone.”

With who, Reigen pondered, mind flitting to Mob before he shook his head and refocused on Dimple.

“Listen…” Dimple started to say, tapping his host’s long red nails on the armrest of the couch.

“I’m all ears.”

“Keeping this all inside isn’t going to help you—or anyone…” Dimple trailed off, chewing on his host’s thin red lips. Whatever Dimple said now would upset him, Reigen knew that with how he was carefully choosing his words. “Have you… ever considered seeing a therapist or—”

“No.”

This was something Reigen had considered before, but… he couldn’t, and refused to consider it because he was fine.

“Geez, shot down that fast, huh?”

“I don’t want to. I won’t. You can’t make me.”

“I won’t—no one will. I just wanted to put the idea out there,” Dimple placated him, hands up, voice dropping into a soothing and steady tone. “No one will make you do anything you don’t want to.”

“I won’t,” Reigen spat out, partially in desperation, wide eyes on Dimple, who stared back in growing concern and resignation.

He refused to consider seeing anyone again, not after his parents had already attempted to send him to see someone in the past to fix him. An attempt to cleanse the poison in his heart that made him such a wretched, disgusting and broken thing in their eyes.

(Their eyes were filled with an emotion Reigen had never seen before. Why were his parents looking at him like that?

He couldn’t hear past the blood pounding in his ears, the stinging of his cheek nor glance away from the look on his parents’ faces.

“No son of mine is going to be a—”)

“Reigen!” thin fingers snapped in front of his face, light glancing off red nails that had his eyes sliding up to look at lips coated the colour of blood. “I lost you there for a second.”

Ah, right… He was at home with Dimple, where Reigen was safe.

“Sorry,” he croaked, letting Dimple pull his hand away from where Reigen had started to scratch at the scar on his forehead. “Sorry! I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be,” Dimple cut him off, face awash in sadness and soft hands cradled Reigen’s while rubbing soothing circles on top of them. “You have nothing to apologize for. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s okay. You just wanted to help, and I…”

Dimple allowed him to mull over his words while continuing to rub soothing circles on Reigen’s hands and watching him with dark eyes. Reigen chewed on his lip in thought, gaze drifting around his bedroom, over the bathroom door, to the entrance to the hallway that led to the kitchen and front door, then towards the sunlight peaking through the window by his bed.

The sunlight was bouncing off the dark strands of Dimple’s host. It reminded him of Mob and his silky strands the colour of ink. Once, it had been so easy for Reigen to reach down to ruffle them, but now he had to reach up… and up… and up—

“Reigen?” Dimple called out to him; voice heavy with concern. Reigen’s eyes snapped from the host’s dark strands and to her eyes, blinking sluggishly while Dimple frowned in response. “Seriously, are you okay? You’re out of it more than usual.”

“He’s back,” Reigen whispered, watching while Dimple’s brows furrowed in confusion, mouth parting to ask what he meant, though he didn’t give him a chance to speak. “The one who—he’s back.”

Reigen felt the thrum of Dimple's power sparking where he stilled held his hands, before he took control of his powers again with a grimace, and his face fell into a carefully blank expression.

“Did he—”

“Yes,” he said without thinking, before shaking his head with a weary sigh. “No.”

Because nothing had happened, and Reigen desperately wanted to believe that. Otherwise, he would break again in a way that the others couldn’t fix—he would be nothing but dust and a memory.

He couldn’t bear the thought that he had allowed this to happen again.

Did he deserve it?

Was this fates way of saying Reigen was still a bad person and needed to be punished further?

Dimple’s lips pressed into a thin line. “What does that mean?”

Even with Dimple holding his hands, Reigen felt as if his hands were freezing and as if his holy body had been shoved into frozen water.

“N-nothing happened.”

“Reigen… Be honest with me, please,” Dimple murmured, leaning closer, hands twitching around Reigen’s. Dimple pulled one of his hands away to hold Reigen’s chin and tilt it up when he attempted to duck his head down. “Did something happen?”

At Dimple’s plea, he nodded slowly after a moment, body shaking and panic beginning to settle in once more.

He could no longer deny reality, because it happened to him again, and it would keep happening to Reigen, wouldn’t it?

Because the universe was cruel and—

“Shh,” Dimple crooned, slowly moving to pull Reigen into a hug.

Giving him time to pull away, even though he doesn’t. Not when all Reigen wanted was to be safe. He struggled to speak past the lump in his throat, fighting back the sobs that wanted to escape.

“I-I was so scared,” Reigen finally admitted breathlessly.

“I know. I’m sorry that this happened, and I wasn’t there for you.”

“It’s not your fault,” he rasped, pressing his forehead against Dimple’s neck and soaking the collar of his host’s green sweater in tears. “My fault for—”

“Don’t say that!” Dimple snapped, voice shaking and arms tightening around him. “It’s not your fault. It never was. This guy is sick.”

Yamato was sick, not just for what he had done to Reigen, but living a farce.

He bit his lip, clenching his eyes shut while yesterday’s events raced through his mind without his say-so. Yamato had been so delighted to see him, as if he had been counting down the days until he could hurt Reigen once more, as if he didn’t have a—

“He has a family—a son and a wife,” Reigen revealed, on the edge of hysterics.

The reminder of Yamato cooing over his child with his wife looking on in adoration had nausea thickening in his gut. How could Yamato do this to Reigen and then moments later dote on his family?

“Colour me surprised. They always do… Ah… Who was it? What’s his name?”

Reigen didn’t want to say Yamato’s name, as if doing so would make him appear before him and continue off where he had left off. He would take Reigen apart, piece by piece, layer by layer, until there was nothing left to hide.

“No!” he gasped, scrambling to clutch at Dimple, who peered down at him in worry. “I don’t—I can’t!”

He couldn’t forget the way Aya stared at Yamato, nor how Hiro leaned into his father’s touch and if he were to tell Dimple—if he were to tell anyone—what would happen to Yamato and his family?

It wasn’t as if he cared for Yamato, but his family… Would Reigen be able to live with himself if he was the reason that they suffered because of his own failures? He knew it made little sense, but that meant he was a victim, didn’t it?

Dimple took in a deep breath, as if warring with himself and his own desire to go hunt down Yamato, but then his shoulders drooped, and he tucked Reigen closer against him again.

“You don’t have to.”

“I-I didn’t want to go with him.”

“I know.”

“You have to b-believe me. I didn’t want to!” Reigen wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince, but he needed Dimple to know that he didn’t want this. “He made me!”

“I know. You never would… He’s sick, Reigen. People like that—they’re rotten to their core.”

Reigen hiccupped, clutching Dimple like a lifeline, mind in hysterics. “I didn’t want to…”

He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep in Dimple’s arms, but when he awoke, he found a blanket tucked around him as he curled up on the couch. He barely blinked before Dimple appeared before him, as if sensing Reigen had awoke. Dimple crouched down; his host’s clothing rumpled, and with a flush, Reigen knew he was the cause.

“You feeling okay?” at his nod, Dimple smiled, reaching over to press a hand to Reigen’s forehead with a quiet hum. “You have a bit of a fever, so I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Oh… That’s just my luck, isn’t it?”

Dimple grimaced with a nod, turning to grab a bottle of water from the coffee table that he pressed into Reigen’s hand with a pill after having him sit up. The soft and worn blanket pooled around his lap.

“What’s this?”

“For the fever,” Dimple said, watching Reigen throw back the medication with a sip of water. “Your kitchen is pretty empty, so I’m gonna stock up and make you soup or something.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I do. Just let me do this—” Dimple didn’t get to finish when the doorbell rang, making fear settle in Reigen’s gut as his eyes snapped toward the hallway leading to the front door. “Are you expecting someone?”

When he shook his head, Dimple stood again and headed towards the hallway, with Reigen following behind. He peered from a distance away, still in his bedroom and living area, while watching Dimple open the front door.

Reigen wasn’t surprised to see who was on the other side, dressed in a simple navy-blue sweater, grey sweats and white sneakers, with a frown on his face.

“Ritsu?” he called out in confusion.

“Dimple,” Ritsu greeted, glancing over Dimple’s head to where Reigen stood, hair in a disarray, eyes swollen and red. He didn’t paint a pretty picture, something Ritsu must have agreed with how he grimaced. “Reigen-san.”

“Where’s Mob?”

“I sent him to grab some things from the store,” Ritsu explained, slipping his sneakers off and stepping around Dimple, who continued to eye him warily. “You probably have nothing nutritious in here, do you?”

He sputtered at Ritsu’s words, watching him make his way down the hall to the kitchen, where he opened the fridge with a disappointed hum at what he found.

“He’s kind of right, Reigen.”

Reigen gave Dimple a dirty look, who shrugged his shoulders in response and crossed his arms while leaning against the wall. His gaze kept drifting between Ritsu and Reigen, already knowing that there was no reason for Ritsu to show up at his apartment without Mob at his side.

Even though he hoped he was wrong, Reigen knew the reason Ritsu had shown up.

“Why are you here?” Reigen asked with a sigh, hyper aware of Dimple’s stare.

Ritsu shut the fridge door and turned to face them again. “You know why.”

“Ritsu—”

“It’s fine, Dimple,” he cut Dimple off, ignoring his incredulous expression. This was the last thing he wanted to deal with after yesterday. But he couldn’t truly be surprised when Ritsu had told him he wouldn’t drop this. “You were going to go see Serizawa today anyway, right?”

Dimple balked at that. “What? When did I say—”

“Right?”

With a frown, Dimple waffled in the hallway between the front door and kitchen, eyeing both Reigen and Ritsu.

“…Fine, but—”

“If I need anything, I’ll let you know.”

“…I’ll come by later tonight,” Dimple said with a sigh, refocusing on Ritsu, who was watching on from the other side of the kitchen island, in silence. “He has a bit of a fever. I gave him some medication already.”

“Okay, I’ll take care of him. Nii-san should be here soon, too.”

Dimple sent him one last searching look before turning to head to the genkan, with Ritsu stepping around the kitchen island and into the hallway. They watched Dimple slide on his host’s heels and open the door, where he paused to give Ritsu a warning glare. Reigen laughed wetly at the sight of it, while Ritsu rolled his eyes with a scoff.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to him,” Ritsu promised, as if Reigen wasn’t even here.

With a nod, Dimple stepped out, and the front door shut behind him.

He didn’t really want to have this conversation here and now, but he knew it was unavoidable. Reigen turned around to head back to the couch where he took a seat, while Ritsu locked the front door and joined him seconds later, cutting the space between with large strides.

Though instead of sitting down, Ritsu crouched in front of him, holding a hand out as Reigen stared in confusion. It took him a moment to understand what Ritsu wanted, and with a soft sigh, Reigen nodded and let Ritsu gently cradle his ankle.

Ritsu’s gentle touch was at odds with the angry furrow in his brows while he studied his ankle in silence, his hands lighting up moments later and making Reigen’s ankle prickle.

“Does it still hurt? Ritsu asked, glancing from Reigen’s ankle and to his neck fleetingly, before holding his gaze. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“No…”

“Reigen-san.”

“I said no—well, other than this headache—and fever.”

“I can help ease the headache and fever, but I can’t completely get rid of it,” Ritsu exhaled softly, carefully lowering his foot before flushing. “I’m still working on improving my healing abilities. But I can ease your fever a bit.”

Reigen nodded hesitantly, remaining still when Ritsu stood and laid a hand on his forehead. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning into his chilly hand and breathing a sigh of relief when the pounding in his head eased just a bit alongside his fever.

Just as quickly, Ritsu was pulling away and settling down on the couch next to him, face still a dark red. “If there’s any other injuries that you want me to heal, just let me know.”

“I will. Thank you.”

Despite shifting uncomfortably under Ritsu’s searching stare, he was grateful for his care. That was something he didn’t deserve, Reigen reminded himself.

“I wasn’t lying when I said that I wasn’t going to drop this.”

“Oh, I know you weren’t,” Reigen groused, and even though he hadn’t expected Ritsu to drop this, he still wanted some type of reprieve. Ritsu hadn’t even given him a full day to lick his wounds before demanding answers. “It’s not your business, you know that?”

Ritsu gave him an incredulous look, eyes tracing the ghost of tears on Reigen’s face and his bloodshot eyes. He knew he didn’t look well and that all his rebuttals would fall on deaf ears.

“Whatever,” Ritsu snapped back, turning to face him fully with an arm thrown over the back of the couch. “A name. Give it to me.”

He grimaced at how Ritsu’s jaw clenched in anger that matched the look in his eyes. There were plenty of ways he could go about this, and Reigen could lash out at Ritsu with the demand for him to leave, but would he even listen?

Though, he doesn’t do that when Ritsu looked like he hadn’t slept, with the shadows under his eyes and exhaustion pulling at his shoulders. Instead, he gave Ritsu a small smile, one that had him frowning.

“No.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Ritsu exhaled deeply with an unimpressed look on his face.

“Nii-san was asking questions.”

“W-what?”

Had Reigen not promised he wouldn’t involve Mob in this and in any of his failures or trauma—he couldn’t drag him down to the grave Reigen had dug himself.

“About yesterday.”

“Why would…”

Ritsu sent him another incredulous look, as if Reigen was just supposed to know, like he was some type of mind reader.

But he should know, shouldn’t he?

“Nii-san said that you looked terrified. Is it really such a surprise he would be concerned and ask questions?”

Even if it wasn’t a surprise, that still didn’t change a thing.

Mob couldn’t find out.

What would Mob do if he were to find out that someone had harmed Reigen?

Reigen couldn’t truly imagine it well, though he wondered if anything would be left of Seasoning City.

Would there be anything left of Mob in the aftermath, Reigen reflected suddenly with a lump in his throat while his mind ran astray.

(“I did this for you,” Mob declared, rubbing soothing circles into Reigen’s jaw with a warm and gentle hand. His lips quirked when Reigen shook his head in terror. “Don’t you like it—my gift to you?”)

Shaking his head, he forced himself to hold Ritsu’s stare. “W-what did he say? What did he ask?”

Though Ritsu ignored his questions. “Nii-san is worried. We all are.”

“Who’s we?”

“Hanazawa-kun, Kurata-san and everyone—Reigen-san, did you think we didn’t know that something had happened?” Ritsu questioned, gaze heavy and words deceptively light.

“But Mob—”

“Nii-san doesn’t know. He’s… oblivious at the best of times, but he’s not stupid,” Ritsu groused, chewing his lip and carefully selecting his words before sighing at whatever look must be on Reigen’s face. “He doesn’t know. But you won’t be able to hide this from him forever. He knows something happened and—”

Relief cut through his anxiety and Reigen sagged against the couch, his heart still pattering against his ribs, but more at ease now.

“I can try.”

“I don’t understand why you won’t let us help you.”

What could they help with, and what could anyone do at this point when there was nothing, but a carcass left behind?

There was no point in mourning Reigen when he had died so long ago.

“I don’t need it,” his words clearly didn’t win Ritsu over with the way his brows shot up and his lips tugged down into a frown. “And you’re just kids. It’s not something that any of you should have to deal with."

“We literally fought Claw as kids and stopped them from taking over the world.”

“T-that’s different.”

“God—you just,” it looked like Ritsu wanted to tear his hair out in frustration, and in any other moment Reigen would delight in antagonizing him, but not right now. “Ah… Please, let me help you.”

“I’m not going let you go off and murder someone!” Reigen snapped, before taking a deep breath and raking a hand through his hair. He wanted to laugh at the annoyed look on Ritsu’s face at being denied something, though he couldn’t when they were speaking about this. “And you are helping. You healed my injuries and… all of you have been supporting me this whole time.”

“You—”

Ritsu bristled, looking at if he was going to argue back, but Reigen cut him off. “How long have you known?”

“What? How long have I known what?”

He levelled Ritsu with a tired stare, knowing his skin was pallid, making his dark circles and back stark. That seemed to drain whatever fight out of Ritsu, as if he was taking pity on Reigen because he looked so pathetic.

“…For a while now.”

“What’s awhile?”

“Hanazawa-kun was the first one to… suspect something,” Ritsu explained, picking his words carefully. “But he didn’t say anything to me until…”

Ritsu trailed off, making Reigen sigh and push him for answers. “Before the incident on the subway?”

His skin had ached for days after that subway incident. Even now, Reigen felt as if he could still feel that subway groper’s touch.

“No, before that,” Ritsu said with a shake of his head and watching him wearily. “Kutsuki-san.”

Was Ritsu trying to bring up all the traumas Reigen was trying to forget?

Reigen couldn’t understand what Kutsuki had to do with any of this, and he couldn’t keep himself from voicing that with a tinge of annoyance in his voice.

“What about him?”

“Hanazawa-kun already told you that you should ban him, didn’t he?”

“I can’t go off and ban him because he made some comments! If I ban every customer, then I’ll—”

“Be out of business, I know,” Ritsu grumbled, tapping his finger against the back of the couch. “Hanazawa-kun told me to keep an eye on Kutsuki-san whenever he was in the office and… I can’t believe I didn’t realize it before. It was all there…”

Had Reigen been so focused on Yamato, and trying to puppet this empty shell of a body that he had been oblivious to what the others were seeing?

No, doing behind his back while he was falling apart?

“How could you have? You were—are—just a kid. Why would you even think that? Kids shouldn’t even be thinking or worrying about this kind of stuff…”

“We may be kids, but we’ve had to grow up fast, and that doesn’t change the fact that this happened,” Ritsu snapped with a severe scowl. “When?”

He gazed at Ritsu wearily, considering whether or not to answer, but did it matter when it was clear he knew and just wanted confirmation from Reigen? They were all too clever, and it was only a matter of time before they were able to put together the who, what, where, when, why, and how.

In the end, he would be content so long as Mob remained in the dark, safe and untouched, by Reigen’s failures.

Reigen licked his lips, biting the inside of his cheek before speaking. “When… Ah… Mob and I went our separate ways.”

“That explains where Nii-san was,” Ritsu mumbled, tilting his head in thought and mulling on Reigen’s words. “If Nii-san had been around, then…”

It never would have happened.

But it did, and all because he had chased Mob off.

This was all Reigen’s fault.

At Reigen’s silence, Ritsu sighed, swiping a hand over his face in exhaustion. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“That this happened, and I didn’t realize sooner.”

“Ritsu…”

“You know, I thought you were scared of me at first with how you would flinch away,” Ritsu admitted, eyes skittered away and to the half full water bottle on the coffee table. “I thought it was because you were scared of my powers—of Nii-san’s powers—and… I was happy because I hated that you were using Nii-san.”

Well, this wasn’t what Reigen had expected.

Ritsu continued speaking, Adam’s apple bobbing when he looked at Reigen again. “But you weren’t. I mean, you were using him, but… I knew you were helping him, too. He changed since he met you—for the better—and I hated how close you two were. I hated that Nii-san trusted you and… and… I’m sorry, if I had known—”

“You don’t have to apologize. Ritsu,” Reigen whispered, heart tying itself into knots at Ritsu’s sorrow and regret. “It happened, and… I’m trying to get better and move on. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I couldn’t trust you.”

Ritsu looked close to arguing back and telling him what he truly thought about Reigen’s attempts to get better or move on.

Though he didn’t give Ritsu the chance to speak. “And… Uhm… You weren’t wrong about me using Mob. I was. I know Mob’s probably told you all about it. But you weren’t wrong for disliking me—and not trusting me—with how I treated him.”

("You get taken advantage of so easily," he said to Mob, ignoring the dark eyes that widened at his hard words. "Grow up, for crying out loud."

Reigen knew he should shut his mouth and what he was saying to Mob wasn’t right, nor how he had treated him thus far. He was being needlessly unkind to Mob and still using him even after all these years together.

He was still lying to and deceiving Mob, and even though he wanted to take his words back, his mouth had a mind of its own.

“ —I’m your Shishou,” Reigen declared while Mob continued to stare at him, half-lidded gaze never leaving his face while silently listening to his lies. "If they're going to get in the way of your exorcism job, get rid of them!"

" —They don't actually care about you,” he really couldn’t be surprised when Mob got upset with him.

“That’s not true!”

In the end Reigen was the one who had dug his own grave by his own hands that day, sealing his fate and all but letting Yamato tear his heart out from behind his ribs—it was Reigen’s fault, now and always.)

Ritsu chewed his lip in thought, eyes trailing up to his forehead, and Reigen knew he was searching for that mark and symbol hidden beneath tufts of gold.

“Nii-san really cares about you… Do you know that?”

How could Reigen not know with how Mob doted on him and treated him as the most precious thing in his life—when he knew all about the feelings Mob harboured for him?

It made him ill at the thought, because how could Mob have fallen for someone—a bad person—like Reigen?

Even so, there was another feeling he tried to ignore and bury under all the pain. It was a feeling that made his heart clench at the thought of warm eyes, a soft voice and a kind heart.

How could anyone stand to look at him with such gentleness and adoration, when he was rotting from the inside out?

“I know,” he whispered, hands clenching the blanket he had been sitting on.

The conversation ended there when the doorbell rang, and Ritsu waved his hand in the direction of the hallway leading to the front door. Reigen pushed off the couch with Ritsu following after him, like a moth to the flame when it came to Mob.

Mob smiled, looking dapper in a black flannel shirt and dark blue jeans, while he glanced up from where he was sliding his black sneakers off at the genkan. If Reigen looked closely, he could see part of a silver chain tucked beneath Mob’s flannel shirt.

With warm eyes filled with overflowing love, Mob peered over at him—that had Ritsu snorting at the sight of Reigen’s own responding smile.

“Mob!”

“Sorry I took so long. Kaa-san wanted me to come back home to pick up the zosui she made after she heard Shishou wasn’t feeling well,” Mob explained, bending down to remove his shoes while juggling the bags in his hand. “I told her she didn’t have to… but you know how she is.”

Reigen could say that he did know how she was.

How could he not with how the Kageyama family brought him into their fold and made him feel at home at their side?

When Reigen found himself often at the Kageyama house, side-by-side with Mob’s mother and listening to her instructions as he tried to help with dinner. Or all the times he had helped Mob’s father with whatever home repairs?

Ritsu rolled his eyes, making his way to Mob to assist with the bags. “I told her we’d make something here.”

“I know. I told her that too, but when she heard Shishou hurt his ankle—”

“She couldn’t be stopped,” Ritsu finished for Mob, taking the bags and turning to head to the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Mob chuckled, walking past the kitchen and down the hall to where Reigen at the entrance to his bedroom. “Reigen-shishou.”

“Hey, Mob,” Reigen murmured, rocking back on his heels and blinking up at Mob.

Mob smiled, peering behind Reigen to eye the bed Dimple had made and then to the couch that still had his blanket in a disarray on it.

“Your ankle,” Mob said after clearing his throat.

It was obvious that Mob wanted to say more and ask questions not just about his ankle, but the state Reigen was in now. Mob’s eyes searched his face, fixating on the tears tracks and swollen eyes.

For whatever reason, Mob restrained himself, mouth opening and clicking shut. Reigen took pity on him, moving to push the conversation past this.

“Right as day, thanks to Dr. Kageyama over there,” he teased, earning a huff of laughter from Mob when Ritsu sucked his teeth in response. “I had a bit of a fever, but Ritsu helped with that, too.”

“You took medication?”

“Yeah, I did. Dimple gave me some.”

At the mention of Dimple, Mob glanced around the apartment, clearly searching for and failing to find the spirit in question.

“Where’s Dimple? He said he would stay with you.”

“He did. Relax,” Reigen muttered, watching the beginnings of irritation wash away from Mob’s face at his words and the scent of zosui filling the air. “He left a bit after Ritsu came. He had something to do with Serizawa.”

“Oh.”

“I would have also liked a bit of a heads up if you two were going to come over.”

Mob flushed, peering over his shoulder at Ritsu who puttered about I the kitchen. “Sorry, we texted and tried calling. But you—”

“Didn’t answer,” Ritsu cut in, taking the zosui out of one of the bags before pulling bowls from the cabinet. “We didn’t really have any other choice. Nii-san was going to worry himself sick if he didn’t check on you.”

“Ritsu.”

Reigen sighed fondly, a smile tugging at his lips while he let the sound of Mob and Ritsu squabbling muffle his dark thoughts.

For just a moment, he wanted to allow himself to be taken care of, and so he did.

Even if it sometimes bothered him to let others—children at that—dote on him.

Though as annoyed as he was to find Teru, dressed smartly in his gakuran, at his doorstep that Monday.

With an internal sigh, he crossed his arms over his beige turtleneck covered by a black blazer, barely resisting the urge to wipe his clammy palms on his black slacks or scratch at his scar instead at the reminder of why he needed protection.

Teru showing up here was what Reigen knew should have been expected with how Mob and Ritsu barely left his side over the weekend.

But he also knew that the others, sans Mob, had known for so long and spoke about him amongst each other.

The annoyance was difficult to stamp down on, but he forced a smile to his lips and peered up at Teru while leaning against the frame of his front door. The morning breeze was pleasant, making Teru’s calming scent—warm, sweet and slightly spicy—fill the air while the wind brushed against his skin, soothing after the fiery shower he had taken that morning.

“Teru-kun.”

“Good morning, Reigen-san,” Teru greeted him, hiking his schoolbag up his shoulder as the sun glinted off his blonde locks.

“Why are you here?”

“Well, my school is in the same direction, and I thought Reigen-san and I can walk together,” Teru said with a serene smile, stepping aside to move out of his way.

“Is it now?”

Teru didn’t answer him, content to watch Reigen put on his black dress shoes on and stepped out of the front door after patting his pockets to make sure he had everything. He knew Teru’s school was in the same general direction of the office, but the path Reigen used would take longer, and it really made little sense for Teru to do that.

But unfortunately, it made sense.

How could it not after everything Ritsu had told him about everyone knowing and trying to help in their own way?

In the end, Teru remained silent, only humming in concern when Reigen winced with every step he took down the stairwell of his apartment. The bruises, although they didn’t ache as deeply, still hurt.

They walked in silence, with nothing but the sound of the city coming alive, cars honking and people bustling about to start their day, filling the empty air between them. He scrunched his nose when they passed a salaryman wearing too much cologne, taking a left and stepping around a group of students with Teru glued to his side.

Eventually Teru spoke the closer they got to the office, clearing his throat and raking a hand through his hair when they stopped at a crosswalk. The sight of Teru being uncomfortable was a rare sight and made him fear what he had to say.

Nothing good, Reigen mused, fidgeting with the collar of his turtleneck, hair standing on end at the sudden whiff of something earthy, sweet and spicy that went away as quick as it came, even though he stilled glanced around him with a worried frown.

He shot a look at the café they had just passed, worrying his lip and refocusing on Teru when the smell of baked goods—a mix of sweet and spicy—lingered around the shop.

“I spoke to little brother—or, well—little brother spoke to me,” Teru started to say, making Reigen glance up towards him in thought. “I heard about what happened at the festival and—”

“I know that you all know,” Reigen cut in with a scoff, tucking his hands into the pockets of his pants while crossing the street quickly. “I would appreciate it if you all wouldn’t talk about me behind my back.”

Teru sighed, his long legs easily letting him catch up to Reigen. “I’m sorry, Reigen-san. We never meant for this…. We didn’t know how to help you or how to bring it up…”

“I get it,” Reigen grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose when they stopped at the next crosswalk. He peered around at the people milling about around them, waiting to cross. “I wouldn’t have listened. It wasn’t something that I wanted to talk about.”

“I know. But we care for you and you're important to us. We can’t just watch from the sidelines anymore,” Teru whispered, clearly trying his best to deal with Reigen’s sudden irritation.

It had Reigen pausing to force himself to take a deep breath to try to soothe his agitation. He had no right to get snappy with Teru or any of the others when they were just trying to help, and not when Reigen was to blame for all this.

“Teru-kun—”

“I’m being serious, Reigen-san. You’ve done so much for us—for me—even though you didn’t have to.”

“You were just kids.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t matter to some people,” Teru muttered with a grimace. “Is it so bad that we want to care for you in return? If… if you’d rather I don’t walk with you, then I won’t.”

He couldn’t argue against Teru’s earnest words when they were bathed in so much concern and care.

“I leave at seven o'clock sharp. Make sure you’re on time.”

The smile Teru sent him made it all worth it, Reigen told himself moments later when he arrived at the office, waving back at Teru before he disappeared around the corner from the office.

The conversation with Teru would say on his mind, even while Reigen tried to tell himself he shouldn’t involve them in his trauma or the mess he had found himself in.

Yet, he struggled to deny Teru and the rest of them even now, with Tome setting up camp at the office that same week as if she owned the place.

“—I’m telling you, the amount of homework they assign is crazy!”

He should have been listening to Tome update him about her life since the last time she had been at the office. Reigen missed having her around, but it was better for her to focus on her education.

Though he knew why she was suddenly coming by the office more often now, didn’t he?

Even going as far as declaring she would skip cram school when classes started again, something that Reigen talked her out of fast. He really didn’t understand what was going through her mind at times.

The world had it out for him, which Reigen knew was a surety at this point, with everyone hovering near him and watching him with such concerned eyes.

He hated it.

Their looks and apprehension were nothing more than a reminder of how weak he was. But it was that same concern they showed him that eased his irritation and soothed the words that wanted to spill from his mouth.

There was an anger, hatred and something within him that had been festering in his tainted heart since the day Yamato took him apart in the very office he sat in with Tome right now. That anger had only grown since then, only smothered by his anguish, suffering, and pain.

It had reignited after the altercation with Yamato weeks back. Who had pushed in against a tree while Reigen wept, groping him and hurting once more. He couldn’t think of anything but the rough touches against his skin, and wondering where Mob was while Yamato’s scent suffocated him, filling his lungs with—

Peach, vanilla orchid and white freesia—light, sweet and Tome—started to pull him from his spiralling thoughts when Tome entered his line of sight.

Reigen was fully pulled from his dark thoughts when a cup of tea was pushed into his trembling hand by Tome, who raised an eyebrow at him and set the empty bamboo tea tray on the coffee table before she sat down on the couch opposite to him.

She crossed her legs, smoothing out her jean skirt before fiddling with a bow on her white tunic blouse while she eyed him in concern for several moments.

“Where’d you go?” Tome finally asked.

“What?”

“You sometimes look like… you’re not here,” Tome admitted, taking a sip of her own tea, lips pursed in thought. “Like here, but you’re not?”

He didn’t understand what she meant right away, but it hit Reigen seconds later that Tome was speaking about when he was lost in his thoughts and waking nightmares—the times when Reigen wasn’t sure if he was in his own body or if any of this was even real.

Tome had seen him like this too often, and like the others, she had no problem voicing her thoughts now that she knew Reigen was aware of them speaking behind his back.

“Hmph, maybe it’s aliens trying to get into my brain,” he teased, taking a small sip of his tea with a sigh.

It was a simple earl grey tea, but soothing and familiar.

“Tch, don’t patronize me.”

He chuckled lightly, making Tome roll her eyes fondly. “Sorry, sorry… I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Anything that I can help with?”

“Mhm… Maybe. I’ve been having an interesting…”

Last few weeks, he wanted to say, mind going back to everyone’s increased hovering since the festival—since Ritsu and Teru had confronted him, he reflected while biting the inside of his cheek and peering at the clock with Tome’s burning holes into the side of his head.

“Reigen-san?”

“It’s been a tough few weeks,” more like life, Reigen mused darkly, taking another sip of his tea. “Ritsu and Teru-kun…”

He slanted a look at Tome, trying to read her reaction to confirm what he already knew—that she knew—and that everyone was treating him like glass, after finding out what had happened to him.

What Reigen had allowed to happen to him again.

“Oh, so they told you, huh?” Tome stated, tapping a finger against her teacup. “We’ve known—or well, we’ve had an idea—for a while now.”

“Yeah, I’m aware of that now.”

“You can’t be that surprised that we know. The boys are stupid. But they’re not oblivious—well, not like Mob-kun,” Tome muttered, smiling despite the white knuckled grip on her tea. “But that’s what’s endearing about him, right? He sees the good in people and the world.”

“He does… That’s what makes Mob, him.”

“It is… though, I don’t think he’s as oblivious as we think he is,” Tome mused out loud, stumbling to finish her sentence at the panic on Reigen’s face. “I mean! Ah… Just… It’s not something you can hide from him forever.”

“Watch me.”

That must have been the wrong thing to say with the way Tome’s face twisted in an emotion he couldn’t begin to analyze of his own panic. She opens her mouth to no doubt to argue back with him, a favourite pastime of hers, before she must think better, and her mouth clicked shut.

He drank his tea silently, watching Tome stew on her thoughts, biting her lip and fiddling with her teacup before she finally spoke again.

“I wanted to say something from the start, but…”

“But?”

“They didn’t think that I should—that you would just…”

“Pull away?”

“Yeah… Or avoid us more. We just wanted to help…”

Reigen sighed, leaning to set his empty teacup on the coffee table before sitting back. “You have—all of you have. I’ve told Ritsu and Teru-kun this already, but you’re all just kids and—”

“Stop using that as an excuse!” Tome snapped, cup clacking on the coffee table when she slammed it down with a huff. “You can’t really expect us to just stand by and do nothing!”

“Tome-chan—”

“If this happened to any of us, you’d do the same!”

“I…”

He would, Reigen knew down to his bones, that nothing could stop him from hunting down whoever hurt any of them.

Tome knew that too, as she smiled sadly at him. “You know I’m not wrong about this.”

Bitterly, he kicked himself, because despite all his pathetic attempts to keep this hidden, he hadn’t done a good job, had he? That everyone knew, sans Mob, was mind rattling.

The shame and embarrassment threatened to drown him. He didn’t know how to feel over some of the closest people to him, know what had happened and what Reigen had allowed to—

“It’s not your fault,” Tome suddenly said with a frown, making Reigen splutter. “I know what you’re thinking. You’re pretty easy to read—I mean, since we’re besties—but I’m being serious. What happened wasn’t your fault.”

“I appreciate that, but…”

“Tell me you don’t believe it’s your fault.”

“Tome-chan…”

The look on his face was an answer on its own. One that had Tome’s face crumpling in misery. “You can’t really believe that.”

“I…”

This wasn’t something he wanted to be talking about with anyone, let alone a teenager, but there was no way Tome would let this go—that any of them would drop this now that it was out in the open.

If anything, they all had doubled down in their protective and concerned behaviour, no longer having to walk on eggshells around Reigen, pretending that they didn’t know.

The door was forced open by them, and he had no hope of closing it now, not when they were trying to help him with such earnest—not when there was the constant risk of Mob finding out.

After all, it had always been a when, not an if, when it came to Mob.

“I’d fight him, you know that? For you, the one who… who hurt you.”

“I don’t want you—or any of you—doing that.”

He was touched by Tome’s concern, anger and grief for him, but the last thing he wanted was for anyone to get further involved or for violence to ensue.

“Reigen-san—”

“Please. Just… listen,” Reigen requested, wiping a hand over his face, exhaustion pulling at his heart and he must look as tired as he felt with how Tome nodded silently. “All I need is for all of you to be safe and happy. I don’t need anyone playing hero.”

“I’m sorry,” Tome whispered, eyes downcast and hands crumpling her skirt. I can tell the boys to lay off… We just wanted to help.”

“It’s okay. I get it,” he sighed when she looked at him in disbelief. “Yes, you’re all a little overbearing sometimes, but I appreciate it. I do.”

Reigen glanced at the office door when Serizawa slipped into the office with a quiet apology. He slanted a look between Tome and Reigen before heading to the kitchenette, carrying a bag with a familiar bakery name printed across it.

When he peered back at Tome, she looked putout with a frown pulling at her lips, shoulders slouching and weariness in her every breath.

It made his heart pang for having put such miserable looks on everyone’s faces.

He had never meant to, but this was another fault to place at Reigen’s feet, wasn’t it?

Reigen would continue to cause problems for others, and what else had he expected with the type of person he was?

Pushing off the couch to his feet, he smiled softly at Tome, ruffling her hair on his way to his desk. “Look alive, okay? We’ve got a client coming in five minutes.”

If he wasn’t a coward, then Reigen would have looked back at Tome, but he couldn’t bring himself to see if grief and resignation painted it.

Though he had plenty of opportunities to see her hurt with each visit Tome made to the office, until the last month of her summer break had arrived and with it, the summer heat and sun.

“Ah! Why is it so hot?!” Tome bemoaned next to him, tugging at the collar of her white t-shirt before she wiped her sweaty palms on her pink cotton shorts. “This sucks so much.”

“You know you don’t have to spend your last month of summer break working at the office,” Reigen grumbled, sleeves rolled up while he tugged at the collar of his white turtleneck that would be soaked by the sweat beading on his neck soon enough.

Maybe wearing these grey slacks with the turtleneck didn’t help?

He should have worn some type of linen, Reigen told himself with a weary sigh.

The sun was barring down on them heavily, on the cusp of a heatwave, while they made their way to the convenience store closet to the office. Though to Reigen, it felt as if the store was in the next city over with the unbearable heat. In the back of his mind as they passed the yakiniku restaurant that Reigen had yet to step foot in after all these years, he reminded himself to ask Mob if he wanted to go one day.

“Mah, like you pay me anything. Don’t act like you don’t like the free labour,” Tome shot back, tying her hair back in a ponytail when they turned the corner, and the store came into sight. “Plus, you said Serizawa-san was going to be off for a while. Is his Kaa-san okay, by the way?”

“He told me the doctors said she’ll be fine… But the fall was pretty bad.”

“We should all go visit her sometime. We’ll bring her flowers!”

He nodded in agreement, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his free hand. “Yeah, we can do that. Just check when the others are free, and I can check in with Serizawa if it’s fine.”

Tome hummed softly, pulling her phone out to send a text in the group chat she made with all of them. Reigen was sure that Tome, Mob, Ritsu and Teru had their own group chat to discuss him.

“By the way, if Dimple is with Serizawa-san, who’s going to help with the clients today?”

“Eh? I didn’t have to ask. Mob and the others volunteered themselves. Someone will come by,” he really didn’t have the energy to chat with how it felt he was melting. “Ahh, why is so hot?!”

“I think Mob-kun’s at the beach today doing some kind of new workout routine with the Body Improvement Club,” Tome mused out loud, before adding seconds later when they reached the store. “Global warming. Do you think aliens would have a way to fix it?”

The blast of cool air from the AC when they stepped into the store was a reprieve, as if they had found an oasis in the middle of the desert. He wished he had worn something else, that even though the turtleneck was thin, it still clung to his neck uncomfortably.

It was moments like this that had had never been more aware of the scar on his neck. Yamato had taken so much from him, from Reigen being able to wear a simple t-shirt to never being able to enjoy a trip to the beach again, not when it meant uncovered skin and—

Tome bumped her hip against his, forcing him to glance down into her wide eyes. “You okay, Reigen-san?”

Shaking his head and using Tome’s familiar sweet scent—sweet, gentle and friendly—he grounded himself with a soft sigh.

How pathetic was this, Reigen questioned with an internal grimace, before giving Tome a small smile.

“Ah, yeah. It’s just the heat.”

Even though she didn’t look convinced, Tome nodded and stalled next to him at the store entrance. He huffed in annoyance and amusement when he realized what she was doing. He really was being babysat by a bunch of children, wasn’t he?

“Get whatever you want. It’s on me.”

“Huh? Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

“On second thought…”

Tome snickered, bolting and disappearing into a random aisle. He tracked her dark hair bobbing behind the racks before she was out of sight. Minutes later, when Reigen was in a different aisle staring at the assortment of popsicles and debating the merits of getting a Suika Bar versus a Garigari-kun popsicle, he heard a yelp.

His eyes snapped over to the other end of the aisle where a woman’s grocery basket had fallen over. She was struggling to pick up her scattered groceries with one hand on her stomach, clad in a white maxi dress and simple brown sandals.

Perhaps a medical emergency, Reigen pondered, quickly walking over to help.

“Thank you,” she said, head bowed while focused on grabbing her things when he crouched down to help.

The scent of green pear, gardenia, cedarwood filled the air, a light and floral smell Reigen didn’t dislike, until he looked up from the bottle of mayo in his hand, mind stuttering to a halt at the familiar face greeting him.

It felt as if his blood had frozen in his veins, though she was none the wise with the smile on her lips.

“Reigen-san!” Aya greeted him with a grin.

Why was Aya—Yamato’s wife—here, of all places?

With a hitched breath, Reigen glanced around, searching for a monster, because if Aya was here, then that meant Yamato would be close by.

“Yamato-san…” he murmured, handing her the mayo bottle.

Aya’s smile deepened as she took the bottle and put it back in her basket. “Please, call me Aya.”

Clearing his throat and plastering a fake smile on, he helped her to her feet. “Aya-san, what’s the chance of us running into one another again?”

“Haha, right? Well… we did just move back to the area. Koji accepted a transfer here a week ago,” Aya said, smoothing her white maxi dress out with her free hand.

“A transfer?”

“Mhm, we moved away awhile back for his job. Though I’m surprised Koji wanted to move back at all,” Aya pondered, tucking a dark strand of her hair behind her ear, before settling her hand on her stomach again. “His family is from Seasoning City, although he didn’t seem to enjoy living here before. But he had a sudden change of heart and said he thinks it’ll be a new start for us.

It was as if he had been dragged into the depths suddenly, currents frigid and drowning him in a memory he wished he could forget.

(“I missed you,” was the response he got, that made no sense, and what did Yamato want from him?

He could barely stop himself from laughing deliriously, slanting a look towards the crowd through a gap in the trees a distance away that were none the wiser. He could scream for help, but… The fucking pictures.

“This is—ah—your fault. I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.”)

With a quiet gasp, Reigen blinked quickly, trying to breathe past the fear with eyes still darting around the aisle, searching and waiting.

“Ah…”

Reigen didn’t need to ask her when this change of heart had occurred, not with Yamato’s words clear in his mind. He hoped he was wrong. Aya didn’t take any notice of his stilted response, continuing to chatter away, oblivious to his internal turmoil.

“Do you live nearby as well?”

It was an innocent question, and she didn’t mean any harm, but all Reigen could see was the threat in it.

“No.”

“That’s a shame. It would be wonderful if we were neighbours,” she said, continuing to chatter about their move and how they were settling in.

“Mhm.”

“Oh, actually—your office is nearby, right? Koji said that it was,” Aya asked, and Reigen wasn’t sure what look he had on his face, but he hoped his smile was holding up well. She didn’t take notice, giggling softly and sighing. “You’re all that he’s been able to talk about since the festival.”

“Why?” Reigen croaked, his hands twitching at his side with the desire to claw at the scar on his neck or forehead—to do anything to distract him from the blood pounding in his ears and his heart in his throat.

“He really holds you in high regard, Reigen-san.”

I’m sure that he does, Reigen thought darkly, jaw clenched while Aya continued to speak. He should get Tome and leave before Yamato showed up. He pulled his phone from the pocket of his pants, texting her to meet him at the front to pay for everything so they could leave.

With a tight smile at Aya, he tucked his phone away in the pocket of his slacks. “Ah, it was lovely speaking with you again, Aya-san. But I really have to go.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry! Aha, Koji always says I can go a mile a minute and talk people’s ears off!” Aya chuckled, peering into her backet and then to him again. “Actually, I’m cashing out as well. I have to pick up Hiro from my parent’s house soon.”

He didn’t have any interest or desire to speak with her further, but there was no lie or excuse he could up with when they were headed in the same direction, regardless. With a nod, he trailed after her to the cash register.

She continued to chatter, unaware of his thoughts. “Koji hasn’t been the same since we first moved away from Seasoning City. I don’t know what it was… I thought it was me. I had just given birth to Hiro at that time.”

“Mhm.”

“I’m not sure what happened,” she murmured, getting into line when they reach the registers. Though Reigen couldn’t help but notice the white knuckled grasp, she had on her basket. “Since we’ve moved back—since the festival—it’s like I have my old Koji back.”

What did that mean and what the hell was wrong with Yamato?

Only one thing came to Reigen’s mind when he thought back on that festival and he didn’t want to believe in, considering the true reason Yamato had changed his mind. But how could he ignore it when he would hear Yamato’s words in his nightmares?

(“Mhm, god, you’re just so—ha—fucking sexy,” Yamato groaned, pushing his knee between Reigen’s trembling thighs, brushing it against his crotch. “I’ve been dreaming of you—of this—for so long. It’s your fault, babe.")

The reminder made his stomach churn, and Reigen regret having forgotten to grab a drink or bottle of water in his desperation to get away from Aya. He should have told her he needed to get his shopping done, then he wouldn’t have been stuck here in line with her.

“—only found out the other week. I’m glad Hiro will have a younger sibling,” Aya murmured, rubbing her stomach with a soft smile.

He was lucky to have pulled back into himself at the right time. Something told Reigen remaining silent at her announcement wouldn’t have been the right thing to do or say.

“Oh. Congratulations.”

Did his smile look as stiff as it felt?

Reigen could barely stomach the thought of Yamato being a father at all, but for the man to be expecting another with Aya? It was mind-boggling. Yamato had a family that relied on him, who he doted on and lavished in attention and love if what Aya said was anything to go by.

“Thank you! Ah… Forgive me if this seems a bit personal,” she started to say, flushing red and taking a step forward when the line moved up. “But for some reason, I feel so comfortable talking with you.”

“No, it’s fine.”

If he didn’t get a hold of himself, Reigen knew he would lose it. He glanced around desperately, reminding himself to breathe and go through his grounding techniques.

He was trying, from taking note of the blue of apron the cashier was wearing, the scent of sweat in the air, the feeling of the soft cotton of his white turtleneck and to the way the light glinted off of Aya’s dark strands.

“Koji did say you were an amazing psychic. Maybe that’s why?”

(“Hm, yes and no. You’re definitely a fraud, and if I wasn’t sure before… I’m sure now. If you were the real thing, you would have used your powers to stop me," Yamato mused out loud.)

“Yeah,” he croaked after a moment.

It was now that Aya finally paused to look up at him, brows furrowing in worry at his ashen face and trembling body.

“Reigen-san, are you okay?”

“Hey!” Tome greeted him, making Reigen jump at her sudden appearance at his side,

He was losing himself to time and his thoughts again. They needed to leave—Tome needed to leave—so they could get as far from Aya and—

“Reigen-san?” Tome whispered, suddenly in his space and peering up at him in worry.

Tome’s face pinched in alarm when Reigen’s voice cracked as he finally spoke. “T-Tome-chan, I-I think that the heat getting to me.”

“Oh dear, you should drink some water,” Aya added helpfully, glancing at the bottle and soda clutched in Tome’s hands. “With this heat warning, it’s so dangerous.”

He nodded along to Aya’s words, even knowing Tome wasn’t fooled. Though Tome was looking between Reigen and Aya strangely. She shook her head, uncapping the bottle of water and handing it to Reigen, already moving to pull out cash from her wallet to pay. Though he waved it away with a sigh, letting the cool water slide down his parched throat and into his stomach like a weight.

“I’ll make sure he drinks something and gets some rest.”

At Tome's words, Aya smiled softly. “That’s so kind of you. Are you Reigen-san’s little sister?”

“No.”

“Yes,” Tome cut in, her free hand coming to grip Reigen’s bicep after they stepped aside to let Aya pay.

“Isn’t that sweet,” Aya continued, setting cash down, while her other hand still hadn’t left her stomach.

How could someone like Yamato be a father? There was no way to make sense of things like this, when he desperately wanted today to be just a dream. Though his body was running on autopilot now, with Tome and Aya’s voices being distant chatter while he paid.

When they finally stepped out into the humid and blistering heat, it felt as if his insides had turned to ice.

Why was it so cold?

“Well, it was wonderful seeing you again,” Aya said, glancing from Reigen’s silent not to Tome. “And it was lovely meeting you as well…”

“Tome.”

“Tome-chan, it was lovely meeting you,” with another guileless smile, Aya turned away to leave, pausing briefly to speak to Reigen again. “You should come over for dinner sometime. You’ve helped our family a lot, and I think Koji would love to see you again.”

He would die before he willingly went near Yamato again, was what Reigen wanted to snarl. Only he didn’t.

Reigen smiled, brittle as ice, at Aya. “Of course.”

As he watched her disappear down the sidewalk, Reigen knew for certain he couldn’t do this again. Though that was a distant thought when they finally returned to the office, and without giving him a chance to breathe or collect himself, Tome turned to him with wide eyes full of concern.”

“What happened?” she asked, setting her half-empty can on the coffee table alongside Reigen’s empty water bottle.

“Nothing.”

“Tch, don’t give me that bullshit.”

“Don’t swear—”

Tome scoffed and crossed her arms with a frown. “You look like you’re going to be sick! Did something happen?”

“No.”

“Reigen-san—”

“It’s the heat. I already old you!” she flinched back when he raised voice, and that made Reigen trip over himself with guilt. “Sorry… I’m just not feeling well.”

“…I’ll get you a cold cloth and some more water. Sit down,” Tome ordered, biting her lip and disappearing into the kitchenette.

He should reschedule the rest of the clients for the day and send Tome home. Then he could go home and be lost in his thoughts in the loneliness of his apartment. He couldn’t ask Dimple to come over when he was supporting Serizawa, not after Reigen had already monopolized so much of his time.

Though he was sure Dimple would have wanted him to call him over.

Either way, it didn’t matter, because Reigen hadn’t rescheduled the clients or gone home, and that was the reason for what was happening now.

Both Teru and Ritsu had shown up to help him in Serizawa’s place, arriving at the office to find Reigen laying on the couch with a cold and damp towel over his eyes while Tome fretted on the opposite couch. But what had Reigen expected, when he was—

(“So stupid. Just a pretty face, aren’t you?”

Yamato was cruel, Reigen knew that from long ago, but the reminder was a harsh slap in the face. His lips wobbled, tears finally falling free when Yamato continued to find delight in his pain and at the hope he had snuffed out.)

Reigen never used his brain, did he?

(“Haha, you’ll understand when you get married! This is just what marriage is,” Kutsuki chuckled, smile deepening in amusement. “But that is good advice for others. Sometimes, I forget you’re more than just a pretty face.”)

Because if he had, then he wouldn’t be here, listening to the three of them huddled on the other catch, attempt to needle more information out of him.

“What the hell happened?” Ritsu snapped with a severe frown, crossing his arms over his white t-shirt after pulling his hand from the pocket of his black shorts.

“He said it was the heat, but he’s definitely lying,” Tome added unhelpfully.

Teru eyed him in concern, without a hair out of place despite the heat, and dressed in grey shorts with a blue t-shirt. “Reigen-san, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Perhaps that was the wrong thing to say when he obviously was anything, but fine? The others disagreed with him, Ritsu’s jaw ticked in irritation, while Teru and Tome continued to stare at him with worry clear on their faced.

Ritsu shot Tome a look. “You were supposed to keep an eye on him.”

“Tch, do you think that I wasn’t?”

“Can you two stop arguing?” Teru sighed, squished between the pair on the couch.

“I am literally right here,” Reigen finally snapped, sitting up and letting the damp cloth fall onto his lap. The squabbling halted the second he moved. Or perhaps it was the irritation in his voice? “I’m not an invalid!”

“You could have fooled us,” Ritsu drawled, eyes flickering to Teru when he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You keep lying.”

“And you keep pushing!”

“Ritsu—” Teru tried to say.

“We have to! You keep shutting us out,” Tome cut in, lips trembling and shaking hands clutching her skirt. “Why won’t you let us help you?”

“You’re just kids!”

“Stop using that as an excuse!”

“W-what do you want me to say?” he snapped at Ritsu, jaw ticking and chest rattling with every breath. Reigen knew he had no right to lash out when all they wanted to do was help him. But he couldn’t think past the exhaustion or the shackles of the past that threatened to drown him in his sorrows. “Huh? What, you want me to say it—that I’ve been raped?”

They all looked stricken, faces pale and mouths clicking shut, while they watched Reigen break down. He should shut up, but nothing could stop the anger and hurt flooding his mind—did they want him to admit it was his fault?

“How can you help me!?”

That Reigen deserved this for being a fraud and pretending to be Yamato’s mother, using his grief to make a profit—that he deserved everything that had and would happen because he chased Mob away with his cruelty?

“What do you all want from me!?”

Teru moved first, slowly bringing his hands up in a placating manner, as if Reigen was some type of wild animal that needed to be soothed and calmed.

Wasn’t he, though, when Reigen’s baser instincts and fear took over?

“Do you want me to admit that it’s my—"

“Reigen-san,” Teru interrupted him, voice soft and eyes focused on him. “You know we only want to help and care about you. I’m sorry we made you feel that we were taking your autonomy from you—that we did take your autonomy from you. That was never our intention and I’m sorry.

“I…” Reigen started to say, eyes straying away from Teru towards Ritsu and Tome. “It’s… it’s fine—you all mean well.”

What was he even doing?

Reigen couldn’t lash out at them when he had done this to himself, and to do this in front of children—to drag them into his trauma—how could he do such a thing?

“No, it’s not,” Tome whispered, biting her lips and staring at Reigen with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have been trying to force you to—”

“I won’t say it’s not our business,” Ritsu cut in, face ashen and a strange twist to his lips. “It is our business.”

Tome gaped over at Ritsu, while Teru let out an exasperated sigh. “Little brother—”

“No, let me finish!” Ritsu demanded, never glancing at Teru or Tome. “It is our business because… because we care about you. But I know, it doesn’t make it right what—how we’re going about this—and for that, I am sorry.”

Ritsu wasn’t wrong, and Reigen knew he would do the same in their shoes. They were trying their best in their own ways to help and support him, but they were just kids. Something they could deny, but they were, and they stumbled, making mistakes in their attempt to help Reigen, and they were—

(—both silent while they watched Mob trace the delicate veins on Reigen’s hands, before Mob leaned down to press his forehead to the hands he cradled within his own.

“I’m sorry,” Mob breathed out, his forehead warm and hair tickling Reigen's hands. “I’ll do better. I promise.”)

Just like Mob, he mused, sagging deeper into the couch, wincing at the way he creaked before taking the damp cloth of his lap to set to the side. The trio waited patiently for him to speak. Tome looked like she was going to cry, while Teru and Ritsu eyed him with barely concealed resignation.

“Hah… You all make it difficult for me to stay mad at you, you know that?” he groused, resigning himself to their hovering, but hoping that this discussion—argument or whatever this was—would make them step back, even if just a little. “You’re all brats.”

“You love us, old man!” Tome crowed, flicking her hair back, even though Reigen could still see the tremble in her lips.

“I’m not that old.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Why do I put up with you three again?”

Just like that, tension broke like a balloon during a water fight, though not even close to being as fun. Relief washed over them, their shoulders drooping as if a weight had been lifted, and the adrenaline left them.

Ritsu rolled his eyes with a scoff seconds later. “Because we give you free labour.”

“Hey! I also take you all out to ramen. That’s not easy on my wallet, you know?”

“And we’re grateful,” Teru chuckled, shoving his hands into the sleeves of his gakuran. Reigen knew there would be crescent marks imprinted in his palms if were to look. “You said that there were some clients you need help with today?”

“Well… Now that you mention it, I think the office needs a deep clean,” Reigen laughed, grinning at the resounding groan from Tome.

Maybe it wasn’t the worst way for things to end, though he tried not to think back on it when he got back home that day and texted Mob.

At least Mob hadn’t found out, Reigen reflected, watching a bubble pop up to show Mob was typing a response back.

─────────

“Get back here, you whore!”

He was running through a familiar forest, leaves crunching under his shoes, branches scratching at his arms and face. He needed to get away to somewhere far from here…

Somewhere safe.

“You can’t run forever!”

But he couldn’t, not when he was falling to the ground with a cry. His ankle rolled just as the ground rushed up to meet his face. Pain was screaming up from his ankle while Reigen clawed at the ground.

“I’ll find you!”

Only it wasn’t the dirt and earth beneath him.

It was the old and hard surface of his desk that he was scrambling on top of, trying to pull away from the hands grabbing and tearing at his clothing he had worn on that day.

“Stop! Please!” he sobbed loudly, lips bruised and bleeding, while he tried to make sense of why this was happening to him again. “Mob, help me!"

Jasmine, sandalwood, and lilac invading his senses with everything breathless cry.

Every scent—everything—that he had always associated with Mob.

Safety.

Protection.

Love.

Eternity.

With his thoughts frozen, he was flipped onto his back and blinked up through teary eyes to find that the shadow looming above him wasn’t Yamato. It was Mob.

“Reigen-shishou.”

He must already be dead.

That would explain everything. Because Reigen must have died at the hands of Yamato in the office all that time ago and was now in a hell of his own making.

─────────

The night air was cool and a reprieve from the heat that had been scalding Seasoning City recently. That was thankfully nothing like that day two weeks ago with Tome.

Reigen could only be relieved for that, considering he found himself outside a convenience store near his apartment, wearing baggy black sweats and a beige hoodie. A bag was clutched in one hand and a pack of cigarettes in the other while he idled to the side of the entrance.

He shouldn’t be here, not when there was a voice in his head telling him to go back home. It wasn’t safe, but nowhere was and he would never feel safe again.

“What am I doing?” he whispered to himself, staring at the cigarette pack and trying to will his craving away.

Was it the familiar taste of tobacco he was craving or just something to take the edge off?

Anything could help at this point. Until he could no longer stay in his apartment, not when the walls were closing in on him and closing his eyes meant he would see Mob looming above him.

If he kept this up, he would make himself sick again.

Dimple wouldn’t be happy to see him like this, not when he had told Reigen to call for him if he needed any support. But how could he, when Serizawa clearly needed Dimple’s support more?

It wasn’t fair for him to take up so much of Dimple's time, he reflected, glancing up and to the side when something moves from the corner of his eye.

A thin and tall man—just a regular salaryman, really—sidled up next to him, button-down shirt tucked into his pants, with a cigarette pressed between his thin lips.

“Hey, you have a light?”

“No. I don’t.”

The man glanced at the pack in his hand in bemusement. “Don’t you smoke?”

“I…”

Reigen could light up a cigarette and take a puff right now, filling his lungs with a familiar and comforting poison to get what relief—as meagre as it was—he could.

But hadn’t Reigen stopped smoking because of Mob?

After all, he couldn’t smoke around Mob, back then or now. Still, he longed to put the familiar weight of the cigarette between his lips and let himself fall into what comfort he had on hand.

“I used to.”

“That’s a shame,” the man murmured around the cigarette in his mouth, pulling a lighter from the back pocket of his pants and lighting his cigarette.

Reigen frowned, squinting at the man trying to understand what he wanted from him. Was he a thief? Maybe, or maybe not, but he tried to shuffle away discreetly, anyway. But any thought of the man being a thief died the moment the man spoke again.

The man gave him a smile, a touch sleezy. “I think your lips would like nice wrapped around one.”

Face flushing in indignation, Reigen bit down on the curses he wanted to speak into existence. The cigarette pack crumpled slightly in his hand while he debated what to do next.

Warily, he eyed the man. Would it be better to ignore him?

Or did that matter at all, Reigen pondered, glancing from the man to the empty street around them.

Did it matter?

Would anything change if Reigen said something?

If he tried to leave now, would the man follow him and would Reigen end up welcoming him to his doorstep like Yamato?

Perhaps he should go inside the convenience store again until the man went away?

When had he become so pathetic, when the Reigen from the past—before Yamato—would have lashed out quickly with his silver tongue and had the man running with his tail between his legs?

Silence filled the air, the minutes passing with the sound of crickets in the air and laughter from one of the open windows of the apartments near them. The man cleared his throat, shuffling awkwardly on the spot while Reigen wished the man would leave him alone already.

“Uhm, you—” the man started to say, only to be interrupted.

“Pushy men are the worst,” a voice cut in, making both their eyes dart over to the side where a girl in a white shirt and blue jean skirt stood.

It was Tsubomi Takane.

Who stood tall a distance away from them across the street, dark eyes holding the man’s stare resolutely with no fear in them. There was no hesitance in steps when she walked closer, her skirt swishing around her ankles, and gaze acidic.

He should have never left his apartment, because then maybe he wouldn’t have found himself in this situation again, always so weak and needing to be protected.

Chapter Text

Tsubomi watched them with half-lidded eyes, in what Reigen would have thought was boredom, if not for the slightest tick of her brow when her gaze slid over to the man next to him.

“Why don’t you mind your business, little girl?” the man said to Tsubomi, though he made no move to step closer to Reigen.

If anything, the man stumbled away when Tsubomi’s gaze hardened as she reached into her purse with a quiet hum.

“It is my business if you’re harassing my…” Tsubomi started to say, glancing at Reigen and then back to the man. “Friend.”

“Friend?” the man echoed back in confusion. He had the audacity to give Reigen a disapproving look. “Aren’t you a bit too young to be friends with—"

“Leave,” Tsubomi snapped, cutting him off and walking closer until she was between Reigen and the man. “Go or I’ll call the police.”

The man scoffed, shooting Reigen a dirty look over Tsubomi’s shoulder before walking around them to enter the convenience store. With the man gone, Reigen peered down at Tsubomi, only to find her already studying him in curiosity.

How embarrassing was it for him to need someone to protect him again, Reigen mused, embarrassment surging through him.

“Thank you, Takane-chan.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” she replied, rocking back on her heels with the streetlights glinting off her dark hair. Reigen could understand why Mob had been so enamoured with her—she was confident and pretty. Tsubomi and Mob would make a lovely couple. “It’s what anyone would do, and you’re Mob-kun’s… Shishou.”

She said that like there was a hidden meaning in the title; it made something itch in the back of Reigen’s mind.

“Still, you didn’t have to. I’m a…” grown man, Reigen’s mind reminded, cheeks warming in shame. “Ah, never mind. Thank you.”

Tsubomi hummed, pulling her phone out of her purse and tapping away at it quickly before she looked back up at him again.

“Are you headed home?” Tsubomi asked, hiking her purse on her shoulder higher.

Her large eyes flickered to the crumpled cigarette pack in his hand that Reigen quickly shoved into his hoodie pocket in shame.

“Uh, y-yeah.”

“You live near Peach Street, right?” she mused out loud, smiling and tilting her head in amusement at the surprise on his face. “Mob-kun mentioned you lived there in passing one time. Walk with me?”

“Oh. Uh… Sure.”

He could imagine what made Tsubomi want him to walk with her. Did he look that pathetic or perhaps she was the one who was nervous walking alone? Though Reigen doubted it. She had no problem making that man run away with his tail between his legs.

She smiled again, turning to walk in the direction of Reigen’s home with him follow silently and falling in step beside her on the side closet to the road. They don’t speak for the first little while, simply basking in comfortable silence while the streets began to clear out as the sun began to set.

“Do you live nearby?” he inquired, making her peer up at him and away from her phone.

“No, but I’m meeting some friends in the area.”

Vaguely he recalled Mob mentioning a new karaoke café that he wanted to go to that had opened in the area. He tried to remember if Mob had also mentioned if Tsubomi had moved back to Seasoning City.

She must have read his mind with how her lips quirked. “My family came back for the Lineage Festival and decided to stay a bit longer.”

“Oh, it must be nice to be back.”

“It is.”

Reigen nodded slowly, struggling to think back to the last time he had been around Tsubomi. Vaguely, he remembered her Tsubomi coming by the office with a friend ages ago.

But that was after Yamato, and before Reigen had been broken.

He could barely recall that meeting, or a large part of the last few years. She was another obscure face in Reigen’s patchwork of memories and trauma. It frightened him to think about how much time he had lost and all the gaps in his memory.

His memories were like sand, slipping through his fingers, but he couldn’t get himself to try to catch them and bottle them up. He should have wanted to cherish his memories, but there wasn’t much he could hold onto now when all he could remember was cruel hands and pain.

“—Mob-kun.”

Tsubomi’s voice had him refocusing on the present and flushing at being caught not paying attention when she quirked a brow at him.

“Ah, sorry… I got distracted.”

There was no real explanation he could give Tsubomi, not when she didn’t seem impressed with his lie that she let slide after having decided it wasn’t any of her business.

He should really do something about his lack of awareness, Reigen told himself with a grimace.

But he was trapped in the past, shackled to his trauma and becoming an observer to his own body going through the motions. Tsubomi hummed softly when they stopped at the crosswalk, waiting for the light to change as she peered around the mostly empty street.

Was it safe for her to be wandering outside this late on her own?

But these were his own fears, weren’t they?

Tsubomi could undoubtedly handle herself well, unlike Reigen. She was everything Mob had said she was—headstrong, kind and confident, from what he had seen in the small amount of time he spent with her.

Mob and Tsubomi would have made a good couple.

Reigen didn’t think he would ever understand why Mob had chosen him of all people to fall in love with. After all, Mob had Tsubomi and there were so many other people to choose from.

People better than Reigen, and someone who wasn’t…

Weak.

Pathetic.

A fraud.

A bad person—

“You make yourself an easy target if you’re lost in your thoughts like that,” Tsubomi cut in, voice flat, while staring up at him thoughtfully. “You need to pay attention to your surroundings. Even Seasoning City isn’t completely safe.”

He already knew that after having Yamato engrave his lesson into the marrow of his bones and his very soul. Reigen almost wanted to snap at Tsubomi and tell her she had no clue what she was speaking about.

Though he stayed his tongue, swallowing his ire with a quiet chuckle. “Heh… Uhm, it’s not really something men think about.”

Tsubomi frowned at his words, starting to cross the street when the light signalled they could.

“That’s a strange way of viewing things. It can happen to anyone, Reigen-san.”

As if Reigen didn’t already know that. Though, he wondered what it was that she was talking about, that they were both dancing around as if it wasn’t the elephant in the room.

“I know that,” it was unfortunate he couldn’t keep that touch of frustration from his voice.

“I’m not trying to say anything by it, but…” Tsubomi trailed off, choosing her words carefully, as if unsure. “But that’s what—”

“Others would say,” Reigen finished for her, understanding her words intimately.

“Yes. The blame will always be on the victim first and foremost. What were you wearing? Why were you out at that time and… and so many awful things.”

“It’s terrible.”

To see someone so young worry or think about something like this made his soul ache. How had humanity come so far, and still monsters went unpunished while the victims continued to suffer?

“Isn’t it?” Tsubomi whispered, brushing a lock of hair that the wind blew in her face to the side. “It’s why I want to be a lawyer, to help people.”

He nodded in agreement, bag crinkling in his hand, while his eyes darted around the street. Always looking and waiting. “That’s kind of you. It’s a good goal to have.”

Tsubomi smiled up at him again, eyes briefly flickering from her phone that she hadn’t stopped typing away at.

“Thank you. I’m working hard and it’s been difficult to make time to see everyone. But I call them every week, and I speak to Mob-kun every day.”

“Oh.”

He almost wanted to ask what they talked about.

Did Mob talk about Reigen?

Could he ask Tsubomi to convince Mob to give up on this love for Tsubomi that was fated to fail?

She needed to tell Mob to find someone else, better, kinder, smarter and a good person.

There were plenty of things Reigen wanted to say or ask, but he kept silent, focusing on his apartment that came into their line of sight when they turned the corner to his street.

“He talks about you a lot,” Tsubomi said after a moment.

Ah, there it was.

Reigen shrugged, hoping his face didn’t look as ashen as it felt. “Uh, yeah, figures. Mob spends a lot of time at the office with me, so that’s probably why.”

“Hm… of course.”

He wasn’t going to humour this or focus on the amusement in Tsubomi’s voice.

They stopped in front of his apartment building that Tsubomi studied in interest, making Reigen shift in discomfort. It wasn’t extravagant, but this little place was his safe place away from the world and hands that hurt.

“Well, this is my stop. Will you be okay on your own?”

“I’ll be fine.”

Tsubomi waved his concern off, turning to leave, only to pause and peer up at him with a contemplative look. Seconds later, she was digging through her purse again and pulling something out before she stepped close enough to him, he could smell something sweet, mixed with something floral and earthy that was a tinge herbal.

Grapefruit, sage and neroli, his mind slowly supplied him. That was coming from Tsubomi—a pleasant scent that suited her well.

She stared at him for a moment before holding out what was in her hand that he took with a frown. He stared down at the bottle in his hand as he sent her a look of confusion.

“What’s this?”

“Pepper spray.”

“W-what, that’s illegal!” he balked, readying himself to give it back.

“It’s a grey area. There’s nothing wrong with defending yourself or doing what you need to do to keep yourself safe.”

She smiled as if she hadn’t just told him she intended to become a lawyer. Reigen had nothing to say at her words. His tongue sat heavy in his mouth. It was funny, in a way, for her to say that to him when he was the one who had been against using violence.

“Violence isn’t… it isn’t good,” Reigen mumbled half-heartedly, thinking of Mob and the lessons he had taught him over the years. “It’s okay to runaway.”

Tsubomi pressed her lips into a thin line, nodding slowly, even though it was clear she disagreed with him. “I agree. Violence isn’t always the answer… Until it is. Sometimes you can’t run away. I’m sure Mob-kun would agree.”

Reigen didn’t remember Mob or any of the others mentioning Tsubomi being so for violence. Though at the thought of Yamato, he struggled to disagree with her words.

“It’s not good to use powers on—”

“People,” she finished with a quirk of her lips. “Mob-kun’s told me that before. A lesson that you taught him. He talks about you a lot.”

If it wasn’t for her earlier concern, he would have thought that Tsubomi was picking on him, but her words troubled him. His hand flexed around the pepper spray in his grasp, mouth suddenly dry and stomach flipping—it felt as if she was seeing through him.

“It’s okay to get angry, but running away from your emotions doesn’t help,” Tsubomi declared softly, tucking a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. “Mob-kun’s taught me that you don’t have to pretend to be someone else or hide your feelings.”

The cigarette pack felt like a weight in his hoodie packet, that his hands itched to tear open to find a quick release. What had Mob told Tsubomi for her to say these things to Reigen?

“You’re upset,” she murmured after a moment of his silence. “That’s okay. It’s scary, isn’t?”

Reigen shook his head, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “What is?”

“Being helpless or having to rely on others—to depend on others and get angry.”

It was terrifying that could read him so well and Reigen wanted the day to be over already. He was exhausted, and having this conversation with Tsubomi was the last thing he expected. She must have noticed his discomfort with the way her lips pursed, before she glanced back down at her phone, having understood he was done with this conversation.

Tsubomi tapped away at her phone, before clearing her throat and giving him a kind smile. “It was great seeing you again, Reigen-san. But I need to get going. I’ll try to come by the office before I return home.”

With a quiet goodbye, he turned to make his way up the steps to his apartment and reaching his front door, but there was an urge to glance over the railing in front of his door. He turned to peer over the railing, only to find Tsubomi standing where he had left her.

She waved at him before she turned to leave after ensuring Reigen had reached his front door safely. Despite being touched by Tsubomi’s concern, he hated being treated like a damsel in distress by everyone.

Why was he so defenceless, weak, and pathetic?

Where had his fire and courage gone?

The one that had raged within him, aiding him in guiding Mob and the others through the years—the same courage that had him standing up to Suzuki and chasing Mob through that storm.

It had been extinguished, but did that mean he couldn’t relight it from the embers?

He shook his head, returning to his front door and stepping into his apartment. The door clicked shut behind him and he locked it within seconds before setting the convenience store back on the floor.

Though he wasn’t focused on the bag, so much as he was pulling the cigarette pack from his hoodie pocket. He stared at the crinkled pack, glancing at it and the pepper spray still held in his other hand.

Somehow, it was becoming harder to resist the urge to tear open the cigarette pack to breathe in the rot that would pollute his insides the same way his nightmares did. Reigen was sick of everything, from not being able to sleep well to going through life as a corpse—he didn’t want to see Yamato in his nightmares and reality anymore.

His thoughts stilled when he peered up from the pack and down the hall. He could see a familiar green glow coming from his quasi bedroom and living area.

“Dimple?” he called out. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be with Serizawa?”

Dimple peeked into the hallway and to where Reigen stood at the genkan, eyeing his state with a frown. “Geez, at least crack a smile when you see me… I wanted to check up on you.”

Reigen sighed, sliding his sneakers off while holding the cigarette pack and pepper spray in one hand as he grabbed the shopping bag from the floor.

“Well, I’m fine, as you can see. So, you can go back.”

“Are you really?”

“…Yes.”

“Don’t start lying to me now. You said you’d rely on us—that you’d let us help you,” Dimple muttered, watching Reigen shuffle down the hall, past the kitchen and into the bedroom. “You can talk to me. I promised I’d be there for you.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, willing himself to open up to Dimple. “There’s something wrong with me for this to keep happening to me.”

“What? Did something happen?”

“No—yes—there was just some guy and, I think he was just trying to hit on me poorly,” Reigen mumbled, stepping around Dimple, who eyed the items clutched in his hands. If Dimple had anything to say about them, he didn’t make it obvious. “It’s like I have a target on my back…”

“Tch, you’re not doing anything wrong. These guys are just creeps.”

“I’m tired of it.”

It was a type of exhaustion that went down to his very soul, making him world weary and struggle to keep going. He had to deal with it throughout his life, from his old job—which Reigen knew they were doing to be cruel—but it was all the same in the end, wasn’t it?

Under Dimple’s watchful stare, he started to pace the small space between his bed and the couch. Dimple didn’t flinch when Reigen whipped the cigarette pack at the wall beside the bathroom door, with the pepper spray following it close behind.

They silently watched the pepper spray, unlike the cigarette pack, roll under the couch.

(“You’re upset,” she murmured after a moment of his silence. “That’s okay. It’s scary, isn’t?”

Reigen shook his head, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “What is?”

“Being helpless or having to rely on others—to depend on others and get angry.”)

For whatever reason, that was what did it.

It felt as if Reigen was an elastic band that had finally snapped, stretched too thin and pushed too far. He was throwing whatever he could get his hands on, from pillows, pencils and to clothing. It didn’t matter what it was.

All he felt was rage, disgust, regret and so much grief pulsing through him with every beat of his heart pattering against his ribs.

In a way, it was almost silly how dizzy with relief Reigen was from the small bit of respite he had given himself. Even if he was taking his anger out on the objects in his home. Panting in the centre of his room, he peered around at the mess he made, twitching when he locked eyes with Dimple, who was watching him from the e.

Reigen flushed, lips parting with an explanation. “I—"

“It’s alright. Get angry. Don’t stop on my account.”

It wasn’t like he needed Dimple’s permission to do whatever he wanted to, but it felt validating, nonetheless. Dimple watched on silently while Reigen took his anger out on the world around him, until he was stumbling against the back of his couch, chest heaving and jaw clenched as he fought back tears.

Angry tears stung his eyes; he was so damn tired of it all—of being harassed, touched and violated—his autonomy stripped from him time after time, all while the others hovered around him and fretted.

(“Nii-san wouldn’t. But what would you want?” Ritsu inquired, gaze intense and watching his expression.)

Reigen just wanted to stop hurting.

He wanted to be left alone and for everything to go back to how it was, before everyone forced him to confess his trauma and even farther back than that to before Yamato had returned or Reigen had even met him.

No, even beyond that, he wished to go back to a time when he wasn’t aware of Mob’s feelings for him and Reigen wasn’t the sickness that had made Mob fall for him. Not only had he stolen Mob’s childhood and youth, but Reigen threatened his future as well with this false love that Mob was convinced he felt for him.

Mob could do better, and he would once he realized his feelings were a mistake.

What would Reigen’s life—and the others—have been like if he hadn’t chased Mob away and if Yamato never darkened his doorstep?

If he could reset the clock, then he would go back to keep himself from spitting acidic and poisonous words at Mob, chasing him away and leaving himself stranded. This was Reigen’s fault, always and forever, wasn’t it?

(“Reigen-san, you can’t really believe that. You can’t blame yourself for the actions of others. It’s not your fault.”)

Would he have been able to save himself if he checked under his bed for monsters? Or would it have all ended the same, because Reigen deserved this and it didn’t matter whether Mob had stayed or left?

Wasn’t this all his fault? Had he not set off this chain of events because of his own selfishness and naivety? If he had been a better person, then things would have been different. Or perhaps it if Reigen was a better son, his world wouldn’t have stuttered to a stop, and he would have made his parents proud by living up to his parents’ expectations?

(“Don’t say that!” Dimple snapped, voice shaking and arms tightening around him. “It’s not your fault. It never was. This guy is sick.”)

He would have never opened the office, nor would he have met Mob. Reigen would have become the person his parents wanted him to, at the cost of everything, but in turn, he would have avoided Yamato and saved Mob from having to deal with Reigen’s trauma.

(“It’s not your fault,” Tome suddenly said with a frown, making Reigen splutter. “I know what you’re thinking. You’re pretty easy to read—I mean, since we’re besties—but I’m being serious. What happened wasn’t your fault.”)

But wasn’t this all his fault? Yamato had broken Reigen because he was a fraud and used his grief to make a profit, alongside using all the clients that had come to his business. Could he truly say it was, the longer he thought about it and the words of the others, when no one deserved to be hurt in such a way, no matter what they had done?

(“What my Shishou really is…” Mob started to say, words light, kind and warm. “…Is a genuinely good guy.”)

What would he have said if it had been someone other than him who had been stripped of their dignity, safety and happiness—who had their future, present and past—grounded to dust beneath the heels of judgement and fate?

(The spirit nodded slowly, glassy eyes studying his face. “You didn’t deserve it either.”)

With a desperate sob on the edge of hysterics, he shook his head and paced the room. It felt as if his eyes had finally opened after so many years, even though he still struggled to believe the words falling from his mouth now.

“It’s not my fault,” Reigen rasped, clutching his hair as anger became an inferno of rage. “It’s not my fault.”

Dimple nodded, still watching him from the doorway. “It never was—or could be.”

“I didn’t deserve that—any of that.”

“No, you didn’t. No one does.”

Then why had Yamato done that to him, Reigen mused brokenly, stopping in the centre of the room to stare at Dimple with teary eyes.

“Why did he do that to me?”

“Because he’s sick. I won’t force you to tell me who he is, but… He’s messed up and had no right to do that to you or anyone else,” Dimple placated him quickly when Reigen's face twitched at the mention of Yamato’s identity.

“I… I’m not a bad person,” he said, thought it felt as if he was asking Dimple for confirmation.

“What—Reigen—you could never be!” Dimple shook his head in despair. “How could you ever think that?”

Unfortunately, his mind was too caught up in his own thoughts and desperate rambling to focus on Dimple’s words, leaving him as Reigen’s one-man audience to his breakdown.

“He’s the bad person. Him. Not me.”

“The guy sounds like he’s beyond just a bad person… He sounds like a demon.”

“I… I didn’t deserve that.”

Reigen wasn’t sure if he completely believed in his own words, but a part of him did and that part had him glancing at Dimple, as if waiting for him to correct Reigen to tell him was wrong and would always be a bad person.

Someone undeserving of Mob and the others.

But Dimple said nothing, continuing to let Reigen ramble while he watched with a mix of concern and relief. This was what the others—no, the world—had been trying to tell Reigen all this time, wasn’t it?

Because he wasn’t a bad person, was he?

“A good person. I am a good person,” Reigen whispered, pausing in his pacing to give Dimple a chance to refute his words and give him a reality check.

Dimple gave him a small smile, drifting over to the bed and taking a seat before patting the space next to him.

“You’re a good person,” Dimple murmured gently, just above a whisper with such kindness in his voice. He stood frozen on the spot for a moment, still surprised to hear those words out loud, while Dimple tilted his head in concern and spoke once more. “Why don’t you take a seat? You’re not looking so good right now.”

That had Reigen finally taking note of his parched throat, aching eyes, the pounding of his head and the exhaustion weighing down on him. In a way, it felt as if he had run a marathon or helped Mob practice for one.

“I’m fine.”

“I’m sure you are, but it’ll make me feel better if you take a breather. Can you do that for me, Reigen?” Dimple said, slowly coaxing him into walking over to drop onto the bed, body still trembling from adrenaline. “That’s great. You’re doing great. Why don’t you have some water?”

It didn’t take much for him to listen to Dimple and his soft voice, and he snatched his bottle of water from the nightstand. Despite being lukewarm, it was paradise to his parched and aching throat.

His head was pounding from the stress of not just today, but the past few weeks—no, his whole life—that were catching up to him.

“M’tired…” he groaned quietly.

Dimple hummed as he floated from the spot next to Reigen and to the pillow that had become his designated sleeping location.

“Lay down with me?” Dimple requested, watching Reigen blink at him sleepily.

He nodded sluggishly, crawling over to flop down next to Dimple, who watched him in concern, but there was relief in his stare. Though Reigen didn’t understand what he had done to make Dimple look at him like that.

“Mhm, why are you looking at me like that?”

“What, I can’t look?”

“M’gonna charge you for that…”

“Pfft, who the hell would pay for that?”

“Lots of people,” Reigen grumbled, eyes fluttered before they slid shut and he fell asleep to Dimple’s last words.

With a grimace, Dimple sighed softly. “Not if Shige-chan and I have anything to say about it.”

Though Dimple didn’t mention that night and Reigen didn’t dare to bring it up, but he felt lighter after having Dimple validate him. It had taken Reigen some time. He would be the first to admit it, to finally realize and accept what everyone was trying to get through to him.

It wasn’t his fault.

He didn’t deserve what Yamato had done to him.

The blame laid solely at Yamato’s feet and not Reigen’s.

No one deserved to suffer in a such a way.

Sighing softly, Reigen shook his head and tried to force himself to stop thinking about what happened with Dimple. He needed to focus on the present and work, rather than the thoughts that threatened to drown him.

“We're heading out, Reigen-san. Will you be alright on your own?” Teru’s voice cut in, making Reigen peer up from his laptop.

Teru and Ritsu were waiting by at the office door, dressed in simple black sweats, one wearing a garish neon pink t-shirt—one could take a guess as to who that was—while the other wore a white shirt.

There were both ready to leave for the day and a glance at the clock had Reigen smiling fondly, while he thanked Tome for the cup of earl grey tea she set on his desk. All while he fiddled with the sleeve of his white turtleneck, before reaching to pull his phone from the back pocket of his slacks to confirm Mob’s text from earlier.

Nodding, Reigen set his phone on his desk. “Yeah, it’s fine. Mob’s coming by in a bit. Thanks for all the help today.”

“Hmph, don’t mention it. You owe us ramen by the way,” Ritsu said, though there was no bite to his words.

Rolling his eyes, Reigen chuckled in amusement. “Sure, it’s on me next time. I’ll see you two tomorrow.”

They bid both him and Tome goodbye; the door clicking shut behind them just as Tome hopped onto his desk with the bamboo tea tray clutched to her chest.

“Hey, off!” Reigen scolded, trying to shoo Tome away, but of course, she only found his attempts amusing. “Brat.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, smoothing her jean skirt and purple shirt down. “Takes one to know one.”

“Real mature. Don’t you have plans or anything? I’m sure you don’t want to spend the last month of your summer hanging out at the office.”

Tome nodded, kicking her feet lightly. “Mhm, I do! I’m going out with Tsubomi-chan and the others tonight.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you two were such good friends?”

“We got to know each other better after she moved—figures!”

“Well, that sounds like fun.”

“Yeah, Mob-kun and the rest of the gang will be there too,” she paused as a mischievous smirk tugged at her lips. “Mob-kun and Tsubomi-chan have been hanging out a lot since she’s been back.”

He wasn’t sure what Tome was implying at first, but when he squinted up at her in question, Reigen finally understood. How could he not when she sent him an impish smile, clearly trying to… What?

Make him jealous or ask more questions?

“Good for them. I’m glad. She seems like a nice girl.”

Was all Reigen could say as he refocused on his laptop, discomfort bubbling in his gut at the knowledge Tome knew about Mob’s feelings for him. Though could he be surprised, she knew?

“Oh, she’s nice alright.”

“I’m sure she is.”

Reigen should be happy about this, and he was, he told himself, staring blankly at his laptop screen.

“Mob-kun’s sure too.”

“Tome-chan…” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. This was the last thing he wanted to talk or think about. He didn’t understand how Tome was treating Mob’s feelings for him as normal, as if it should be encouraged. “You know you’re done for the day, right? You can go home.”

“I’m leaving in a few minutes! Plus, your next client isn’t until… four?” Tome declared after glancing at the clock. “So… Any plans tonight?”

There really was so much work he needed to focus on, rather than have Tome talk his ear off about Mob and Tsubomi.

“No.”

“You should join us then.”

The last thing he needed was to look like a creep hanging out with a bunch of teenagers, and having to watch Mob with—

It didn’t matter, Reigen told himself, shaking his head and flicking a paperclip at Tome, smirking at her scandalized gasp.

“I’m not hanging out with a bunch of teenagers.”

“Why not?”

The look he gave Tome had her rolling her eyes with a scoff. “Who cares what people think!”

“I do.”

Wasn’t it already strange enough that, other than Serizawa, Dimple and the Kageyama parents, Reigen spent most of his time around teenagers?

It was odd, strange, and not right.

Maybe that was one reason Mob had ended up like this?

Because of poor boundaries and Reigen not having kept his distance. Though there were plenty of things he should have done in hindsight.

Tome pouted, undoubtedly disagreeing with him. Even if he didn’t understand what put her in such a mood to pick on him, Reigen couldn’t really complain. It was this or the others treating him like some fragile thing.

“You shouldn’t.”

“Okay.”

“Reigen-sannnn!”

Rolling his eyes, Reigen slid his gaze back to Tome, lips quirking at the joy dancing on her face. To have them chat like this. It really had been too long since he had felt free, even if just a little. Perhaps Dimple had been right and maybe Reigen should talk to someone about everything?

“Tome-channnnn—” Reigen singsonged, only to be interrupted by the office door clicking opening.

Both of their heads swivelled in its direction and to the man, wearing a plain black shirt, grey jeans and black loafers, stepping into the office. It was someone they were all too unfortunately familiar with.

“Kutsuki-san.”

“Arataka-kun, hello!” Kutsuki greeted him with a large smile, that dimmed when he took notice of Tome sitting on Reigen’s desk. “Ah, Tome-chan… Its been a while since I’ve seen you.”

Tome gave him a tight smile, clutching the tray harder in a white knuckled grasp. “I was busy with school.”

“Oh, what year are you in now?”

“My third.”

Kutsuki nodded, visibly uninterested, before walking over to take a seat on the couch nearest to Reigen’s desk. Reigen knew Kutsuki had no interest in Tome. If he had shown any ill intent towards her, he would have thrown the man out long ago.

But he still didn’t like Kutsuki speaking to her or any of the others if he could help it.

Maybe he should have banned him like the others told him to, but it was Reigen who Kutsuki seemed interested in, wasn’t it? So, there was no fear of the others being hurt or harassed.

He cleared his throat and held Kutsuki’s stare. “Kutsuki-san, your appointment isn’t until four.”

“Ah, sorry, I’m a little early. But that’s alright, isn’t it?”

Reigen bit back the words he really wanted to say—to tell Kutsuki it wasn’t alright, Mob wasn’t here yet and Tome would leave soon. He really didn’t want to deal with Mob’s pouting or irritation when he arrived to find Reigen alone with Kutsuki.

Tome was the biggest snitch of them all for finally looping Mob into their Kutsuki problem, Reigen bitterly decided.

“No, no, it’s fine,” he said, while Tome grumbled under her breath in disagreement. “Tome-chan has to leave, but—”

“Actually, I’m staying back today and doing some overtime,” Tome announced loudly.

“Tome-chan…”

Kutsuki's lips twitched down at Tome’s words, evidently unhappy that his alone time with Reigen was ruined once again.

“What can I say? You’d be lost without me!” she singsonged, even while her eyes told another story.

She was asking him if he really wanted to do this.

He knew if he said the word, Tome would have his back. She was one of the most outspoken about wanting to throw out and ban Kutsuki, amongst other clients. Though Reigen shook his head, pretending he didn’t see how Tome’s face fell, nor hear her aggrieved sigh.

Rolling the sleeves of his white turtleneck up, he stood to his feet. “You wanted the Aroma Runaway Express right, Kutsuki-san?”

Kutsuki nodded, glancing between him and Tome, before following Reigen into the massage room. Reigen could feel Tome’s eyes burning into his back until the door shut behind him. Drifting over to the shelf holding all his oils and massage supplies, he listened to Kutsuki shuffle towards the massage table behind him.

“I’ll take whatever you’re offering,” Kutsuki murmured, barely giving Reigen a chance to breathe before he was starting up with his typical flirting.

Reigen grimaced, exhaling deeply—realizing distantly he had never realized Kutuski didn’t really have a scent at all, other than the slight whiff of some citrusy cologne—while he told himself this would be over before he knew it.

“The Aroma Runaway Express it is then. Please remove your shirt and we can start.”

The sound of Kutsuki shifting and removing his shirt continued behind him, while he peered at the different bottles of oil, grabbing the ones he needed for this particular massage. He hummed quietly when Kutsuki spoke again, half-listening to him.

“—don’t get why you changed that, Arataka-kun.”

“Changed what?”

“Your policy about removing curses. I miss getting whole body curse removals from those lovely hands of yours. You wouldn’t believe the aches I’ve been getting!”

Kutsuki was as disgusting as ever, Reigen seethed, grabbing a bottle of oil in a shaky and white knuckled grasp.

He didn’t have to put up with this.

So why did he?

Was he just trying to prove to himself he could go back to who he was before? The Reigen in the past who would have been unbothered by Kutsuki’s comments and other creepy clients, if not a little annoyed.

But he had taken baby steps in his journey to heal, hadn’t he?

Even if Kutsuki didn’t understand the reason for the policy change, Reigen and the others, sans Mob, understood the reason now. It was only after years of hard work that he was able to start doing massages again a month ago.

It was difficult at first, leading Reigen to cut sessions short, breath rattling in his chest with panic and tears threatening to fall from his eyes while Dimple tried to talk him down.

(“Reigen, you don’t need to be doing this! I’m serious. Forget the massages!” Dimple pleaded, while in Yoshioka’s body, seated next to him on the couch closest to Reigen’s desk.

“I do. I want to… Ah… I want to be able to do the things I enjoyed before,” he rasped, sipping on the glass of water Dimple offered him, before tucking his legs between his legs again. “I need to do this.”

Dimple sighed, reaching over to rub soothing circles into Reigen’s back. “…I get it. I do. But is this the best way to do this?”

He shook his head with a gasp, trying to regulate his breathing, focusing on Dimple’s words and touch until things would stop spinning. “It’s like exposure therapy or something? It’s only with women right now and maybe… maybe I’ll be able to get back to how I used to be.”

It was obvious Dimple didn’t agree with him, even if Reigen couldn’t see his face with how he had his head tucked between his thighs. Dimple had been overly concerned about him since everything had been revealed, but even so, he didn’t argue with him and let Reigen make the final decision.

With a sigh, Dimple spoke again. “If you say-so…”)

Shaking his head, Reigen double checked he had the right oils, setting them on the cart he had tucked next to the shelf that he would bring over to the massage table.

“It’s a new technique. It works better, trust me,” Reigen declared, setting the last bottle of oil on the cart before turning around to face Kutsuki. He shouldn’t be surprised to find Kutsuki naked, but he was. “W-what, K-Kutsuki-san—”

Maybe he had jumped the gun and should have never returned to giving massages, Reigen mused.

Kutsuki chuckled in amusement at his reaction. “What? We’re both men. There’s no need to act so shy.”

“Y-you need to put your pants back on or—”

“Or what?”

Reigen froze, words trapped in his mouth alongside the whimper that wanted to tear free. He forced himself to keep his eyes on Kutsuki’s face, because if he saw anything else, he would throw up, wouldn’t he?

He didn’t want to see the evidence of Kutsuki’s desire for him.

Oh, he was so tired of being hurt and treated like a slab of meat. It had anger simmering beneath the fear and worry that he almost ignored, too fixated on trying to find a way out of this, until, unbidden, Tsubomi’s words came back to him.

(“It’s okay to get angry, but running away from your emotions doesn’t help,” Tsubomi declared softly, tucking a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. “Mob-kun’s taught me that you don’t have to pretend to be someone else or hide your feelings.”)

“You… you need to leave,” Reigen hoped his voice and body didn’t tremble as much as he felt they did while he set his jaw with a glare aimed at Kutsuki.

Whose face twisted in surprise, before annoyance took over, and Kutsuki sighed.

Reigen wasn’t sure how Kutsuki had expected him to react. Did he expect him to be happy and drop to his knees to thank him?

He didn’t deserve this, Reigen reflected, wiping his sweaty palms on his turtleneck before reaching into the pocket of his pants to grip his phone.

Kutsuki gave him a smarmy grin. “And if I don’t?”

There were several ways he could go about this, and despite hearing Tsubomi’s words about violence, he wanted to avoid that. Though he might not be able to, Reigen realized when he noticed Kutsuki was closer to the massage room door now.

“T-this is sexual harassment! I’m ending the appointment now,” he snapped, stepping around the massage table in the centre of the room to get closer to the door. “I won’t ask again. Leave!”

“This isn’t good customer service, Arataka-kun.”

For whatever reason, Kutsuki was acting like this was a game and not a crime, as if Reigen was playing hard to get and not fearing for his life. His anger only grew, making him clench his jaw and exhale deeply.

What gave anyone the right to treat Reigen like a piece of meat?

“I’m running a business here, Kutsuki-san, and that means I get to set my own rules and policies. And a part of that means I can end service at anytime,” Reigen announced, pulling his phone from his pocket, that Kutsuki’s eyes darted down to, while he slowly edging himself closer to the door. “It’s your choice. I can call the police, or you can get dressed and leave.”

Kutsuki looked unbothered, shrugging his shoulders with an easy grin. “You know what
I thought the first time I saw you? It was that you looked even better in person. The photos don’t do you any justice.”

It felt as if the air had been punched out of Reigen’s lungs as he finally reached the door, his hand stilling on the doorknob, eyes locked onto Kutsuki, who was a short distance away and had yet to make any move to dress.

“P-photos?”

He could barely hear himself over the rising panic and blood pounding in his ears. Though Kutsuki looked pleased at having his full attention, even if Reigen was sure he looked closed to tears.

“You looked pretty in the videos as well. It’s a shame your time on television was cut so short. You have quite the charisma, and I thought we had a connection.”

“W-what are you talking about? What videos and photos?” he asked, voice pitching in panic, while Kutsuki ignored his questions.

If he could, Reigen would simply have told himself that Kutsuki was speaking about his embarrassing time on television, but he couldn’t be sure. Not when Yamato had evidence of his desecration that he had threatened to use against him.

It was unfortunate he hadn’t been paying attention with panic taking hold, because Kutsuki was closer now and pressing a hand to the door to keep Reigen from opening it.

How could he have been so stupid to get lost in his own mind again—in the trauma and past—when danger was right in front of him? He kept losing time against his will.

When would he ever learn?

“I’ve seen the way you look at me. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” Kutsuki crooned.

His free hand snapped out to grab the wrist of Reigen’s hand that was holding the doorknob. It tightened in warning when he tried to pull away. This couldn’t be his fault, could it? He had no clue what the hell Kutsuki was talking about, nor what delusions he had created in his mind involving Reigen.

He recoiled with a gasp, whining when Kutsuki’s grip tightened further. “Let go—stop!”

“No, you stop playing hard to get.”

“Let me go!” Reigen demanded desperately, ice settling in his veins and panic crawling up his throat when Kutsuki crowded him against the door. “Stop it! Kutsuki-san, this isn’t—get off!”

“Arataka-kun, listen to—” Kutsuki tried to say, wheezing in pain when Reigen kneed him in the crotch.

Using that momentum, he shoved Kutsuki away and to the floor, taking that chance to scramble out of the massage room, uncaring when the door slammed against the wall.

He had forgotten Tome was still here, Reigen thought when he stumbled back into the main office.

His gaze locked onto Tome; it was obvious she was making her way from the couch to check on them in the massage room. She stared at him with wide eyes that snapped from him and over his shoulder.

“Tome-chan!” he cried out.

A shove from behind cut short anything else Reigen wanted to say, sending him stumbling into his desk and onto the ground with a pained yelp. He didn’t have time to collect himself or focus on Tome further when harsh hands were grabbing at his hair and dragging another pained cry from him.

“You fucking bitch!” Kutsuki snarled, breath hot against his ear.

It felt like Kutsuki was trying to scalp him, while Reigen scrambled to grab at the hands in his hair. He wrapped his hands around one of Kutsuki’s wrists, desperation winning over, because if saving himself meant breaking Kutsuki’s wrist, then so be it.

Reigen didn’t deserve this.

But just as suddenly, those hands fell away from his hair and Kutsuki slumped on top of him for a moment, before Reigen shoved him off and looked up to find Tome standing next to them with a broken tea tray clutched in her hand.

Everything was a blur after that, with Tome fretting over him nonstop.

Nor had she stopped kicking Kutsuki’s limp body, only covered in a towel, every time she walked past him in her pacing.

“Tome-chan, stop kicking him,” he rasped from the couch, trembling hands holding his teacup. He winced at the look Tome sent him. “J-just, don’t… please.”

She scowled, kicking Kutsuki harshly one more time before returning to sit next to him on the couch. For a moment Tome said nothing, watching him stare at his full cup of tea before she finally spoke when it became clear Reigen wouldn’t say anything.

“I already called the police,” she admitted.

“What?!” Reigen balked, making Tome sigh. “Why did you call the police?!”

Tome shook her head, waving a hand in Kutsuki’s direction. “Uh, because he assaulted you?! Reigen-san, he tried to—he hurt you!"

He didn’t want the police here because that meant questions and looks.

Would they even believe him?

Was it so wrong for Reigen to want to brush this under the rug and pretend it never happened?

Even though it was clear Tome wouldn’t let that happen.

“I don’t want to involve the police,” he whispered, sniffling quietly and rubbing at his eyes with his free hand.

Her mouth clicked shut, face pinching in distress that Reigen seemed intent on putting everyone through. Sometimes he wondered why Tome and the others still bothered with him when all he did was upset or disappoint them.

Tome licked her lips and wrung her hands. “I-I understand that, but… Mob-kun is going to be here soon.

The mention of Mob had him glancing at the clock, horror and dread stealing his breath at Tome’s words.

“What?”

“How are you going to explain this?” she waved a hand in the direction of Kutsuki’s limp body again, brows raised in question. “What do you think will happen when Mob-kun gets here?”

(Mob shook his head, a touch breathless as he chuckled. “You made me into a killer.”)

He shook his head, panic darkening the edges of his vision while he struggled to suck in air and tried to remind himself that he was safe.

After all, Tome was here, right?

Kutsuki couldn’t hurt him anymore.

With a shaky gasp, he forced himself to focus on things other than his racing thoughts. Like the tea that was warm on his tongue, his soft turtleneck against his skin, the smell of peppermint from the tea Tome was fixated on recently, and… and—

“Reigen-san,” Tome murmured in concern, leaning over to look at his ashen face. “Are you okay? I mean, of course you’re not! But—”

“T-tell him not to come—tell Mob we’re closing early!”

The words were rushed and desperate, with Tome yelping when his tea splashed over his hand at his sudden movement to sit up straight to look at her with a plea in his eyes. She nodded while quickly moving to take the teacup from his shaking hand and set it on the coffee table before she slowly reached out to cradle his hands.

Tome’s lips trembled just like her small hands holding Reigen’s did, clutching them on his lap, as if to keep him from disappearing and wilting before her eyes.

“I tried! I texted him, but he hasn’t responded back!”

Hands so warm, unlike his own frigid ones, as if someone had locked Reigen in a freezer for decades. Maybe he had been. It didn’t sound so bad if it put him to sleep.

"T-Tome-chan…"

“It’s okay! Everything is going to be fine!”

“Mob will… Mob will—”

(“I did this for you,” Mob declared, rubbing soothing circles into Reigen’s jaw with a warm and gentle hand. His lips quirked when Reigen shook his head in terror. “Don’t you like it—my gift to you?”)

“Reigen-san, please. You need to breathe.”

He was trying, wasn’t he?

Yet it was a struggle to focus on breathing when all his mind could imagine was Mob finding out about this.

But it had never been really about Kutsuki, was it?

“Good, you’re doing great. Just copy my breathing… Yeah, take a deep breath in,” Tome murmured to him quietly, rubbing soothing circles onto the top of his hands. “Then out…”

That was how Mob found them minutes later, with Tome cradling his hands in her own, whispering quiet reassurances, while Kutsuki was still unconscious next to Reigen’s desk by the massage room door.

Mob had frozen the moment he stepped into the office, dark eyes drifting from Reigen and Tome towards Kutsuki’s towel covered body. His face scrunched in confusion as he peered back over at them again, shoving his phone into the pocket of his dark blue jeans before he started to fidget with the hem of his black hoodie, white sneakers scuffing against the worn office floor.

“What happened?”

“Mob-kun!” Tome startled, looking away from Reigen’s rapidly paling face towards Mob and forcing a smile to her lips. “Uh… Uhm… D-did you know the customer isn’t always right?”

“What?” Mob said, unamused by her words and poor attempt at an explanation when his eyes locked onto the bruise blooming on Reigen’s wrist. “Shishou, you’re hurt!”

That had Mob cutting the space between them to drop into a crouch in front of Reigen, where he gently took his bruised wrist from Tome. Who winced, giving Reigen an apologetic look, thought he knew she wasn’t sorry about calling the police.

“An exorcism gone wrong!”

“It’s okay, Tome-chan,” Reigen mumbled with a sigh, rubbing his swollen eyes with his free hand again, steadfastly trying to ignore Mob’s stare.

“Reigen-san…”

“Can you wait outside for the police? Don’t worry, Mob’s here.”

Tome looked like she wanted to argue with him, even so she hesitantly nodded and stood up from the couch, but not before glaring at Kutsuki. The door shut behind Tome with a click, leaving just Reigen and Mob, who peered up at him in earnest.

“What happened?”

There was nothing he could say to explain this as a simple accident, not when he could already tell Mob was connecting the dots as his hair began to flutter and he glared toward Kutsuki’s unconscious body.

“N-nothing.”

“Reigen-shishou.”

“He—I—Kutsuki-san… he was upset with the massage. He got a bit aggressive, but we handled it,” the lie slipped past his lips as easily as the smile Reigen slid onto his face. “It’s okay. Nothing happened.”

“Why are you lying to me?”

“I-I’m not—”

“Shishou,” the drop in Mob’s voice left Reigen shuddering, not in fear—never—but at the threat in Mob’s words and the sight of his eyes flickering red. Despite his anger, his touch was gentle on his wrist, rubbing soothing circles on the darkening bruise. “What did he do?”

Everyone at the office already knew about Kutsuki, so it wouldn’t be difficult for Mob to realize Kutsuki had done something or tried to. Mob was waiting to hear the words from Reigen himself, wasn’t he?

Reigen understood it all at once that Mob was giving him a chance to give him an explanation that wouldn’t end up with Kutsuki dead.

His silence was enough of an answer for Mob, who readied himself to stand to his feet to unleash his wrath on Kutsuki. He could see the anger in Mob and taste it in the ozone in the air as the furniture began to float with everything else.

Mob’s hair was no longer brushing against his forehead as it fluttered up. That had Reigen moving to try to stop what he had seen in his nightmares.

“D-don’t hurt him!” he pleaded, hands darting out to cradle Mob’s jaw to turn his face towards him again and away from the direction Kutsuki was in. “Mob, don’t!”

“Why?”

This was his nightmare coming to life. It had to be, and Reigen tried to reach Mob to cut through the rising murderous intent.

“Violence isn’t the answer! Don’t use your powers on people!”

“Then I’ll use my hands,” Mob declared, starting to pull away from Reigen.

“Mobbu, please!”

His sob made Mob freeze in his attempt, however, confusion, rage and concern flashing over his face in a matter of seconds. Mob stared at him as if he couldn’t understand why Reigen was trying to stop him.

“He hurt you.”

“And that means that you’ll hurt him?!”

With eyes the colour of blood, Mob peered at him with resolve on his face. “Yes.”

This was Reigen’s worst nightmare come to life, wasn’t it?

(“Reigen-shishou,” Mob whispered, crouching down in front of him, blood coating his clothes and dripping from his face. Reigen couldn’t look away from the red clinging to Mob’s lashes, nor stop himself from glancing down at the decapitated head clenched in Mob’s bloody hand. “Didn’t you want me to save you?”)

Would Reigen awake to find himself in his own bed, drenched in tears and sweat? No, he wouldn’t, because this was reality and not a dream.

“M-Mob!” Reigen gasped, clinging to Mob harder as he tried to make him just listen. “S-Stop! He’s not worth it!”

“He’s not, but you are Shishou. He hurt you—he tried to…” Mob’s words trailed off, before fury reignited within him and he tried to draw away from Reigen. Who clung to him, hands cupping Mob’s jaw, all while he was drifting out of Reigen’s reach. “I’ll protect you.”

“No! Mob, please!”

He scrambled to grab Mob’s biceps to keep him from moving further away and never had he regretted encouraging Mob to join the Body Improvement Club more or his own lack of workout routine.

It was like he was fighting against a brick wall, unmoveable and strong. It stung to know Mob only stilled because he wanted to and not because Reigen had stopped him.

“Why won’t you let me protect you?”

“Because you weren’t there!” and you were the one who left me behind to be torn apart and unravelled, Reigen almost sobbed.

“What—”

“You weren’t there!” Reigen shook his head, hiccupping with heavy sobs. “You left and… and…”

“Shishou, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. I won’t leave you.”

Mob was looking at him with increasing worry, glancing over Reigen for some injury that could explain his confusing and hysterical words.

He was caught between scoffing and laughing in Mob’s face, while telling him what Reigen really thought about his promise. Mob had already failed him once, hadn’t he?

But that was a lie, and Reigen knew it was.

Instead, he swallowed down the poison he wanted to spit at Mob, who had done nothing but be there for him and had given Reigen more than he would ever deserve.

“I don’t need you to be a hero!” he wept, holding Mob’s face gently. But Mob looked stricken at his words. He shouldn’t have looked so hurt and broken over someone like Reigen. “I just need you to be here—with me—at my side… Please?”

That snuffed out all the fight in Mob. His inky hair drifted back down, along with all the objects floating around the office.

“I’m sorry. Please don’t cry anymore, Shishou,” Mob whispers, dropped to his knees completely again, staring up at Reigen with glassy eyes filled with a plea for forgiveness. His rough hands reached up to cradle Reigen’s face, thumbs brushing away tears that refused to stop. “I’m sorry. I won’t hurt him! Please… please don’t be afraid of me.”

“I-I’m not scared of you… I could never be scared of you,” Reigen shook his head desperately.

There was nothing to forgive, nor did Mob have anything he needed to apologize for, not when Reigen had nothing to fear when Mob was here.

It hurt to see the look on Mob’s face as he struggled to believe Reigen’s words. The guilt threatened to smother him for treating Mob like the monster he always feared himself to be.

Why did Reigen always seem to hurt his precious people?

“J-just… just hold me, please?” he whispered, leaning into Mob’s hands before they left him and he was pulled into a warm embrace.

Mob’s arms were strong and solid like his chest that Reigen pressed his face against. He could hear Mob’s heart pattering away like a rabbit, making his eyes slide shut as he tried to savour the sound and Mob’s familiar warmth.

To ground himself, in the present, not the past and in nightmares.

Reigen wished he could burrow himself into Mob’s chest, carving himself a place to call home in the heart he knew was in his hands.

He hated himself for wanting to be held by Mob, yearning for the safety and protection he gave so freely that Reigen didn’t deserve.

“M’sorry,” for everything, Reigen wanted to say, instead sniffling against Mob’s chest and gripping the back of his hoodie. “I’m sorry, Mob.”

A sickness that wanted and craved what he shouldn’t. That was what Reigen was.

Mob hummed quietly, a soft tune or rhyme, while his chest rumbled and muscled rippled beneath his black hoodie. Mob only shifted when the office door clicked open and Tome came entered with police officers at her side.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. You did nothing wrong—it wasn’t your fault. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you,” Mob whispered against Reigen’s hair.

It was funny how hearing those words from Mob—the same words Reigen had heard from the others—finally loosened the noose of shame around his neck.

Even if just a little.

Reigen shook his head, breathing in Mob’s familiar scent tinged with the smell of ozone. “S’not your fault.”

“And it’s not yours either.”

Mob didn’t force him to speak again, staying glued to his side with a hand cradling his while the officers finally took Reigen’s statement. It was a blur. He barely remembered what they asked him, nor what happened to Kutsuki after Tome coaxed them from the office, promising to lock up after the officers left.

The walk home was silent; Mob only released his hand when they reached Reigen’s doorstep hours later with the moon watching them. He unlocked his front door, pushing it open despite not taking a step inside. Mob hadn’t moved from behind him, as if not wanting to leave Reigen’s side.

Could he be blamed for turning around to face Mob and opening his arms wide, allowing his most precious person fall against his chest as Reigen held him close?

Just let Reigen have this one thing—even if just for a second—to feel safe and protected.

Would that be so wrong?

He would hate himself in the morning for being unable to keep himself from relying on Mob, when Reigen needed to be doing everything possible to discourage him and not lead him on.

Disgusting.

He was disgusting.

They all should have just let Reigen wither away years ago.

“Shishou,” Mob murmured, pulling away to stare down at him in concern. His arms were warm where they stayed wrapped around his waist. “About today, with Kutsuki—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Before he could think, he was pulling away from Mob’s touch, averting his eyes and pretending he didn’t feel those arms tighten around him for a second before they released him.

“Please don’t shut me out.”

“I… I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You talk to the others, but not to me,” those words and the hurt in them had Reigen’s head snapping up to lock onto Mob’s wounded stare. “I wish you would tell me what’s wrong. I feel like I’m losing you. Like the harder I cling to you, the further you slip away from me and it’s killing me.”

“Mob…”

“I would do anything for you, Shishou. Do you know that? Please… Trust in me.”

Had he not promised to keep from involving Mob any further into the grave Reigen had dug himself?

He had, so… what the hell was Reigen doing right now?

“I do trust you, but…”

Heartbreak settled on Mob’s face, before it disappeared just as quickly, and Reigen saw the exact moment he broke another piece of Mob’s heart. Yamato had broken Reigen, shattered his mind and soul to pieces, but it was the heartbreak on Mob’s face at Reigen’s hands that ground those pieces to dust.

“I’m sorry,” Reigen rasped, wanting to do nothing more than grovel at Mob’s feet and beg for forgiveness.

“Don’t be. I won’t force you to talk or… or do anything you don’t want to,” Mob said with a brittle and broken smile that made Reigen want to weep again. “I’m glad you’re okay and I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“Mob, I’m sorry—” he started to say, flinching when Dimple suddenly materialized beside him. “What—Dimple?”

“I heard what happened from Tome-chan,” Dimple explained, glancing from Reigen to Mob, eyebrows raised in question at the odd atmosphere. “Shige-chan—”

“Will you stay with Reigen-shishou tonight?” Mob cut in, rocking back on his heels.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m here.”

Mob nodded, peering down at Reigen, before stuffing his shaking hands into his hoodie pocket. “I’ll come by the office tomorrow.”

“Mob…”

Reigen’s own hands twitched at his side with the desire to grab onto Mob to keep him from leaving and with the desire to soothe the hurt he had coloured Mob’s heart in.

Why couldn’t he keep himself from hurting Mob?

How much more would Reigen take from Mob until he was satisfied?

Did his selfishness know no bounds?

Vaguely, he noted Dimple had drifted off behind him and into his apartment, leaving Reigen alone at the front door with Mob. But he barely focused on that when Mob was slowly and gently cupping his face.

“Why are you crying?” Mob asked, voice just a above a whisper, with hands that were so warm he couldn’t keep himself from leaning into them. “You’re safe now, Shishou.”

Reigen shook his head at Mob’s question as the terror, stress and trauma of today finally caught up to him. Reigen was so tired of being hurt and hurting others, while always failing Mob.

It seemed as if he could do nothing right.

Though fear wasn’t the cause of the tears rolling down his cheeks now. It was the love and devotion he kept finding in Mob’s gaze—in his every touch—that made Reigen weep harder.

What had made Mob fall for him in the first place?

He couldn’t understand it, nor could he swallow down the disgust in his throat at the reality of Mob’s love, affection and adoration.

“Shishou, please don’t cry. I won’t let anything happen to you. Tell me how to fix this—tell me how I can help you.”

Mob was too kind, sweet and too much all at once.

Why did fate have to be so cruel to Reigen?

Reigen was going to rob Mob of his future and there was nothing he could offer him in return.

Not when Reigen was disgusting.

Used and nothing more than a pretty face.

The gentleness Mob showed him alongside the adoration in his eyes made Reigen sob harder, body shaking with every breath and word.

“Mob, I’m sorry.”

For being so weak, but I’m trying.

For making you love me, please forgive me.

I’m sorry, so please don’t leave me again.

Get yourself under control, his mind screamed at him, even while he clung to Mob more, hands twisting the fabric on the back of Mob’s hoodie and tears soaking his chest.

He was upsetting Mob further, who was already struggling to comfort him—protecting Reigen from his own memories, fears and failures.

Mob shook his head, holding him tighter. “Don’t apologize. Please, just let me help you.”

The only way Mob could help him was putting Reigen out of his misery or killing the love he had for him.

But he knew Mob wouldn’t do either.

“Hold me?” he asked, though it bordered on a plea, even knowing Mob would never say no.

Yamato should have killed him that day in the office. Maybe then Mob would have been spared from Reigen’s selfishness. He had been more aware of Mob since he had uncovered the love he harboured and nurtured for Reigen.

Reigen had to be aware to keep Mob at an arm’s length, didn’t he?

What would Mob’s parents have said if they were to see this, Reigen pondered, pressing his face to Mob’s chest, who all curled around him further.

They would be furious and threaten to call the police or hurt him, and Reigen wouldn’t argue or fight back.

He deserved it, even if his intentions might be innocent, seeking nothing more than a sense of safety and protection that Mob always exuded. But it was wrong either way, because Reigen knew about Mob’s feelings.

How disgusting was Reigen?

“Shishou?” Mob whispered suddenly, leaning back slightly with Reigen still in his arms to eye the ghost of tear tracks on his pallid face.

It was the second time today he had soaked Mob’s hoodie with his tears, and he was grateful no mention was made of it, he mused, blinking at the splotches on the dark hoodie.

His arms tightened around Mob for a second before he pulled away, ignoring how he missed their warmth already while he rubbed at his swollen and teary eyes. He was getting sick of crying and needing protection.

Where had the Reigen from before gone?

“Thank you for today,” Reigen muttered, fiddling with the sleeve of his turtleneck while sluggishly blinking up at Mob. “I’m sorry for ruining your hoodie.”

Mob shook his head with a huff of amusement, rubbing at his own red and glassy eyes. “Please stop apologizing.”

“Sorry.”

“Reigen-shishou.”

“Heh, seriously… Thank you for everything,” he rasped, licking his lips and pondering his next words. “I…”

How could he ever truly explain how grateful he was to Mob, without adding fuel to the flames of Mob’s desire for him?

“You don’t have to say anything. I understand.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes fondly, before grinning up at Mob. “Do you now?”

“Yes,” Mob murmured, lips quirking and eyes dancing with a secret that Reigen wished he had never discovered.

“Ah, I am too old for this… Mob, go home,” Reigen grumbled, shoving Mob’s broad shoulder playfully. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Was it okay to leave things like this, Reigen pondered, biting the inside of his cheek and wondering what would come in the aftermath of Kutsuki.

Mob nodded, looking close to pouting before he turned and started to make his way to the stairwell, but not before sending Reigen one last searching look over his shoulder.

Reigen would pretend he didn’t see that wanting and forlorn stare.

“The kid has got it bad, and I mean bad,” Dimple said, suddenly at his side again and watching Mob disappear down the stairwell.

Reigen hummed quietly, stepping into his apartment and locking the door behind him, with Dimple trailing after him as he made his way to his bedroom.

“He needs to find someone else—some his own age—and…” someone that wasn’t Reigen, he almost said, biting the inside of his cheek instead and making a beeline to his bed that he flopped down on.

“Hm, I wonder,” Dimple mused out loud, settling in next to him on the bed. If Dimple noticed his unopened and wrinkled cigarette pack on his disk, he didn’t say a word. “We’ll deal with Shige-chan later. I heard what happened from Tome-chan…"

“Are you here to say I told you so?” his words had Dimple shooting him a hurt and incredulous look.

“What? No! Don’t say that!”

“I should have listened to you—to everyone—and… Ah… I’m so stupid.”

No matter how much Dimple denied his words, Reigen knew he was right. He hadn’t taken their concerns more seriously, because Reigen didn’t value or care for himself. A part of him had known the way Kutsuki was treating him wasn’t right, but so long as it was directed at him and no one else, he didn’t care.

He didn’t value or care for himself.

Dimple shook his head with a heavy scowl. “You’re not stupid or anything like that! It’s not your fault assholes like Kutsuki exist and—"

Reigen could see a rant coming from Dimple a mile away, who was working himself up with increasingly more violent threats of what he would like to do to Kutsuki and others like him.

“I got away. I didn’t let him—I didn’t,” he cut in quietly.

“You don’t need to explain anything to me. I’m just glad you’re okay,” Dimple soothed him, reaching over to pat his head gently. “He’s only lucky it was the officers and not me that got to him first.”

“I kneed him in the nuts,” Reigen laughed tearfully.

When had he started crying again?

Sometimes it felt like all he did was cry, break, and hurt.

Dimple snickered with an approving nod. “No way! Heh… Man, what I would do to get my hands on him.”

“Hmph, you don’t need to do that. Tome-chan broke the tea tray over his head.”

“Atta girl, you should hire her as security instead.”

Reigen rolled his eyes at that, sitting up after he lost the battle to resist the urge to shower—to flay his skin off in his attempt to wash away the whisper of Kutsuki’s hands and words.

Of the memories of Yamato’s touch and threats.

He hoped Ritsu wouldn’t be too mad when Reigen came to him with another injury to heal. Though he doubted Ritsu would be anything but furious with the word being spread. It was only a matter of time before Ritsu and everyone else knew what happened to him.

They were going to hover over him even more, treating him like the glass he always refused to believe he was.

“I’m gonna take a shower. Will you still be here?”

The thought of being alone right now was one Reigen couldn’t bear. Would Mob have stayed if he had asked him to?

Of course he would have, Reigen told himself with an exhale, heart fluttering strangely.

He was a pathetic shishou to rely on his disciple so much.

Dimple sighed, as if offended Reigen would even think otherwise, before smiling softly. “There’s nowhere else that I’d rather be.”

True to his word, Dimple stayed at his side when the others were unable to. Not to say the others weren’t clinging to Reigen like octopuses in the following days and beyond.

“I’m running a business, not a daycare,” Reigen grumbled under his breath, glaring at his laptop where he had typed his name into the search bar.

Unable to will himself to click enter at the fear of what he would find. But it had been on his mind on repeat since the incident with Kutsuki last week.

Yes, there could be nothing to be found, but what if it was what Reigen feared most?

Could he bear it?

Would that be the final push that forced him over the edge?

“What’s the difference?” Tome snickered from the couch, unaware of his racing thoughts while tapping away on her phone, looking comfortable in a loose pink shirt and black leggings, not even bothering to spare Reigen a glance.

“Feet off the coffee table!” he snapped, rolling his eyes when Tome removed them and stuck her tongue out at him before she threw her feet—shoes neatly set aside next to the couch—onto Mob’s black shorts clad lap while carefully avoiding dirtying Mob’s white band t-shirt. “Don’t you all have plans for the summer?”

“No,” came the chorus of voices.

He frowned; did they not have anything better to do other than terrorize him? “I’m being serious. You have, like, what… two weeks left? And you’re spending it here?”

“It’s too hot to want to do anything,” they all agreed with Tome.

Ritsu crossed his arms over his white t-shirt clad chest, beige shorts wrinkled with how he refused to stop bouncing his leg, all while shooting Reigen a particularly venomous look, as if Reigen was the reason for the recent heatwave.

“You’re such a cheapskate. Do you even have the air-conditioning on?” Ritsu sneered.

If he didn’t find them so endearing, he would have thrown them out on their asses hours ago.

“I do! This—tch—thing is always on the fritz! I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with it this time, so I called a repairman. But they won’t be able to come by till the end of the week.”

“Can I take a look?” Teru asked helpfully, neon green shirt clinging to his sweat soaked chest while he crossed his white shorts clad legs, before laughing seconds later at Reigen’s expression. “I’ve had to figure out how to fix things on my own at home.”

“Sure, go crazy.”

That had Teru and Ritsu jumping to their feet, slipping out of the office sometime later with the promise of returning shortly after purchasing some parts for the AC unit.

It wasn’t a surprise when Tome disappeared out the door with the promise of coming back with takoyaki when Reigen announced he needed help with cleaning and reorganizing the office.

“Brat!” he hollered after Tome from his desk. She snickered, and all but skipped out the door. Reigen shook his head with a fond sigh before turning to glance at Mob on the couch. “I guess it’ll just be you and me, Mob.”

How unfortunate was it that Mob didn’t seem too disappointed with that idea?

Reigen could feel Mob’s eyes burning into the back of his head as they started to clean and reorganize the office. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t used to Mob’s staring, but it had gotten worse after the incident with Kutsuki.

Mob’s protective behaviour was in overdrive with no end in sight.

Even though he knew he should nip this in the bud and do everything possible to discourage Mob, he wasn’t sure how to go about this.

Should and would, but how could he build this wall—this boundary—between them without Mob leaving again?

Would he regret waiting so long to take action, Reigen mused, feeling Mob’s hard chest pressing against his back as he helped grab the storage box from the top shelf that Reigen struggled to reach.

He no longer cowered away from more or flinched away from him and looked at him as if Mob was the boogeyman. It was something Reigen was proud of, that he knew the others took notice of with their soft smiles and even softer stares.

Mob certainly had noticed with the way he beamed down at Reigen when he quietly thanked him for helping with the box.

But, of course, Reigen couldn’t stop messing up and making mistakes.

For the past several minutes, he had been fidgeting with a poster on the wall, an old thing that was a bit washed out and coming off the wall. He had taped the other corners back up, but the bottom left corner of the poster refused to stay in place and kept unsticking from the wall no matter how much Reigen tried to stick it back into place.

It was driving him mad and with a frown, he glanced over to where Mob was organizing some files at Reigen’s desk.

“Mob, can you pass me the tape? It should be in the bottom left drawer. I need to tape this whole thing again…”

From behind, he could hear the drawer of his desk open and the sound of shuffling through it, before all noises ceased. There was a quiet hitch of breath before Mob spoke again with an odd pitch in his voice.

“Shishou, what is this?”

At Mob’s question, Reigen glanced over his shoulder towards his desk and where Mob was staring down at some papers in his hands. He didn’t recognize them at first until he stepped closer to look at them.

They were pamphlets, slightly yellowed and wrinkled.

The very pamphlets his doctor would press into his hand every time he saw her, with the same pitying look and concern on her face. Reigen couldn’t bear to have them, nor look at them in his home, but he couldn’t bring himself to throw them out either, and so he had shoved them into a drawer of his desk at the office.

Like some kind of dirty little secret, Reigen reflected, biting the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood.

Reigen was so stupid.

“T-those are for clients! You never know when you need them and I like to keep them handy, just in case,” Reigen lied, stepping closer to snatch them From Mob’s grasp while carefully avoiding his eyes as he stuffed them back in the drawer. “Now, where’s the tape?”

Mob passed him the roll of type silently, gaze still searching while Reigen wanted to do nothing more than disappear and hide away from those eyes that peeled away his skin to the bone.

He was relieved when Tome and the boys barged back into the office twenty minutes later. Maybe he should have worried more about Mob’s sudden silence, but he wouldn’t dare to imagine what was on Mob’s mind right now.

Not when Reigen pressed down the corner of the poster that refused to stay down once more with a trembling hand.

─────────

“Won’t you let me save you, Shishou?” Mob crooned against his lips, a quiet huff of amusement escaping him when Reigen tried and failed to turn his head away. An impossible task when Mob’s large hands cradled his jaw, his hold unbreakable and harsh. “Let me protect you.”

He shook his head, vision swimming at the movement, eyes blinking up at the office ceiling, while he scrambled at couch beneath him in his attempt to get away from Mob.

“N-no!”

“No, you stop playing hard to get,” those words had his gaze snapping up, half expecting to find Kutsuki, but it was still Mob and that only made his weep renew. “Why won’t you let me love you?”

The hands that he adored and had protected him thus far became the shackles pressing Reigen’s wrists against the couch above his head.

“M-Mob, please! Please don’t do this to me!”

“Are you scared of me?” Mob asked softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of Reigen’s eyes. “I’m sorry. Please don’t cry anymore, Shishou.”

“I don’t want this!”

His attempts to free himself from beneath Mob did nothing. They never did. But Reigen couldn’t stop himself from trying, not when he promised not to ruin Mob.

“Why are you lying to me?”

“I’m not! P-please!”

“Does Shishou want me to leave, hm?” the thought of Mob leaving and being abandoned again made Reigen sniffle tearfully with a shake of his head. Mob smiled tenderly down at him when he leaned back to look at his face. “Should I leave you again?”

“P-please—stay—don’t leave me. Not again.”

“You’re my Shishou. Of course, I’ll take care of you,” Mob promised before leaning down to swallow Reigen’s cry. Teeth nipped at his lips, demanding entry that he refused, until Mob pulled back to glance down at him. Only it wasn’t Mob, was it? “Babe, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. I won’t leave you.”

There was no soothing floral, sweet and woody scent he always associated with Mob. All Reigen could smell, and taste was the Yamato—smoky, earthy, spicy, and monstrous.

Chapter Text

“I’ve always known… from the beginning. What my Shishou really is… a genuinely good guy.”

─────────

It had been on his mind since he left the office that day—no, even before then—since they reunited again at that bridge under the blazing red of the setting sun.

Something had changed since they had argued and went their separate ways. It was an itch and cancer, a festering wound he couldn’t stop scratching at in an attempt to cut it open to see the decay inside.

No, to heal it.

To bathe it in his love and to stitch the pieces of Reigen’s wounded heart back together. But his shishou wouldn’t let him and it killed Mob to know Reigen was suffering in silence.

I love you, so won’t you please let me help you?

It made him ache at the knowledge that everyone, but Mob, knew about this secret they deemed him not to be a part of.

Was it because Mob was untrustworthy?

Had he done something to make Reigen and the others exclude him? What had he done and how could he get his shishou to forgive him?

He couldn’t forget seeing the light fading from those eyes and of all the arguments—pleads and sobs—to please let him help.

If Reigen asked him to, Mob would cut himself open and allow him to tear his organs out to use as a noose. He would let Reigen do anything and everything.

But Reigen wouldn’t let him.

─────────

“I… think there’s something wrong with Reigen-shishou,” Dimple glanced at him, eyebrows raised in question at Mob’s sudden admission.

Dimple watched him settle down on his futon and pull the blanket up to his chin before he spoke after a beat.

“What makes you say that?”

“He’s…” scared, different, and something was wrong.

Wrong, wrong, wrong—

“Don’t worry about it, kid. Reigen’s fine,” Dimple murmured, dragging Mob from his thoughts as he settled down on the pillow.

Even though Dimple said that, why couldn’t Mob believe his words when it seemed as if even Dimple didn’t believe them?

How was it fine that they were watching Reigen waste away in front of them? Reigen was becoming skin and bones, looking so fragile that Mob feared he would break if he were to so much as sneeze in his direction.

“Dimple… Something is wrong.”

Why wasn’t Dimple listening or was Mob the only one seeing how Reigen’s face sunk in further, hair dulling and clothing hanging off his frame?

Why wasn’t anyone listening to Mob?

“I hear you, believe me, I do,” Dimple said with a sigh, tapping his finger against the pillow, eyes drifting around his room. “But you have to trust me on this. He’ll be fine and… and you have to let the adults handle this.”

How could he let them handle this when it was Mob’s fault for leaving Reigen in the first place? Something must have happened between the then and now, for him to have to watch Reigen wilt away months after they had reunited.

“I want to help.”

“No. This isn’t something you can involve yourself with, Shige-chan.”

Dimple shook his head, patting a small hand against Mob’s cheek before crossing his arms and it was all Mob could do to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from lashing out.

“He’s my Shishou,” so wasn’t it Mob’s duty and right to care for Reigen?

“You’re right, he is. So, trust in him and us to handle this,” Dimple replied, glancing from where Mob pressed his face into his pillow and burrowed deeper under the blanket. “Please. Shige-chan.”

Did Dimple expect him to continue to keep his lips sealed shut, standing by and watching Reigen have another breakdown?

One after another, chest rattling sobs and fear in Reigen’s eyes—of a nightmare Mob couldn’t seem to pull his shishou out of.

“…Okay.”

It wasn’t fair.

He wanted to help Reigen as much as his shishou had helped him, but no one would let Mob, and it felt like a chasm had cracked open between them.

Mob hated this.

If he had known this would have happened, would Mob still have left that day? Would he have answered his shishou’s calls and stayed at Reigen’s side, and then… then maybe none of this would have happened?

Maybe then Reigen would still trust in him.

─────────

Mob knew he shouldn’t be doing this, but he couldn’t help but open that drawer again, the one where he knew those pamphlets were hidden. They had been on his mind since he found them a few days earlier.

But it wasn’t really the pamphlets that caught his eye, was it?

It was the look on Reigen’s face when he had turned to see those yellowed and aged papers clutched in Mob’s grasp.

Why had his shishou looked like his world had ended?

A look, a flicker and expression that disappeared just as quickly as it came. Mob would have missed it if not for the fact that he knew—or would like to say—he knew Reigen like the back of his hand.

Or he once had.

It made sense, objectively, for Reigen to have them to give them to clients. But there was that itch again in the back of his mind.

A blaring red light telling Mob to open his damn eyes and just look.

Even though Mob shouldn’t, he crammed those pamphlets in his pink hoodie and shoved his hands into the pocket of his faded blue jeans just as Reigen returned from the bathroom, an eyebrow raised in curiosity when he found him idling by his desk.

“Mob, what are you doing?” Reigen asked, smoothing out his white turtleneck.

He knew he always had been a terrible liar and Reigen had always been able to see through him, past the rot and shame, to pull him out of the darkness that threatened to swallow Mob whole.

So, he surprised himself when the lie fell easily from his lips and Reigen accepted it without a question.

“I was looking for a sharpener.”

Was it really a lie when he did technically need it, Mob mused, glancing at his desk to where his letters to Reigen laid with his pencil on top.

What would Reigen say if he knew what the contents of those letters were?

I love you.

Would he be disgusted?

Did Reigen know what he did to him—that he held Mob’s heart, beating and bloody, in his hands—that Mob would let him cut it open to watch the red spill free and stain his lovely hands red?

He could only hope Reigen would stain him in his colours in return.

Reigen-shishou, I love you; he wanted to weep.

In the red of his love, passion and devotion—colour his hands, skin, heart and bones in Mob’s adoration.

So, won’t you give me a chance?

“Mhm… Here,” Reigen said, stepping closer to open the top left drawer.

For a moment Mob had feared Reigen would open the exact drawer he had ransacked moments earlier, and then he would know Mob had taken the pamphlets—that Mob had lied to him.

Just one, please?

But did he have any other choice when everyone was keeping him out? Treating Mob as nothing more than a stranger or an outsider, it made that raw wound in his chest throb with the need to ask.

Don’t you trust me anymore, Shishou?

He didn’t ask, in fear of the answer he would get, choosing to instead give Reigen a smile when he handed him a pink sharpener with a smile of his own, soft and fond.

The smile he reserved for Mob and Mob alone.

The pamphlets felt like an anchor in his pocket, but could he be blamed for letting his curiosity get the best of him?

─────────

“Thank you,” he said to Serizawa the moment Reigen stepped out of the booth at the ramen shop.

His eyes tracked Reigen until he disappeared around the corner to the bathroom. Serizawa looked confused, tilting his head, chewing and swallowing his ramen before he spoke.

“Uhm, you’re welcome… Sorry, what are you thanking me for, Shigeo-kun?”

For being there for Reigen when Mob couldn’t be—when his shishou refused to let him in—when the others excluded him and he was forced to watch Reigen continue to wither away.

“For being there for Reigen-shishou.”

“Oh… I—uhm, of course. He’s my friend and I would help him, regardless.”

It almost made Mob amused at how everyone spoke so easily about helping Reigen and being there for him. Yet, no one wanted to put a label on what had happened or what was causing Reigen to fade away.

Like a sunflower wilting without the sun, torn from the soil and left to decay on the ground.

If he asked Serizawa, would he tell Mob what was going on and let him in on this secret they all kept clutched close to their hearts.

Let me in please, he wanted to beg and plead.

Please don’t shut me out, Mob almost said, choosing instead to smile at Serizawa softly. “I know. I’m grateful. Thank you.”

But they wouldn’t, would they?

Because they had deemed Mob as untrustworthy. He had to have done something to upset Reigen to make him keep Mob at an arm’s length, flinching away from his touches and recoiling at the sight of him at times.

What made Reigen stare up at Mob as if he was the one who had torn the sun from the sky, darkening the world and bathing his shishou in shadows?

The thoughts didn’t leave him, even when Reigen returned from the bathroom, face pallid and smile shaky.

─────────

It had been a long time since they took on an overnight case that had them staying at the ryokan they were hired to investigate. It was an old place with aged wood and creaking floorboards.

The type of place spirits like to congregate at, Mob reflected, staring at the back of Reigen’s head while his shishou took their payment from the clients. Reigen smiled at something the client said while fidgeting with the collar of his white turtleneck before smoothing his hands over his grey slacks—a nervous habit Reigen had developed some time ago, Mob noted.

The job itself was easy, simple, straightforward and just like how shishou liked it. It was over all too quickly and before they knew it; they were being guided to their rooms by the owner.

Mob cringed internally when he stepped into the room—or what he believed was one of two rooms—presented to them by the owner.

Crossing his arm, he worried his lip and peered at the decently sized room while crossing his arms over his green hoodie clad chest, while resisting the urge to grab his phone from the pocket of his blue jeans to try to find a hotel or elsewhere to stay so his shishou wouldn’t get upset.

Though Mob shouldn’t have been surprised when Reigen nearly had an aneurysm upon seeing that they received a single room with two futons instead of the two rooms they requested.

“I requested two rooms,” Reigen grumbled, glancing between Mob and the futons, before looking back at the door the owner disappeared behind minutes ago. “Ah… Just wait here. I’ll go talk to the owners and get this sorted out.”

“I don’t mind,” he said quietly, even while imagining Dimple’s amusement. ‘I’m sure that you don’t, kid’.

Reigen stared at him blankly, as if Mob had told him something so inconceivable he couldn’t even begin to fathom where to start.

“Mob… It’s not appropriate.”

Should he be offended that the thought of simply sharing the room—the same air as Mob—was something Reigen loathed? He couldn’t understand this.

They had shared a room before in the past when he was younger, and Reigen had no problem with it. If anything, Reigen would go out of his way to get a single room to save money.

“Why? We’ve shared a room before.”

But that was before, wasn’t it?

Before they had separated and Mob had come back to someone else, his Reigen-shishou, but a fractured one. Someone different with ashen skin, dark circles beneath dull eyes, sunken cheeks and the ghost of tears tracks coating his face.

Mob would never forget the first panic attack he had to help Reigen through.

“Your parents—” Reigen started to say, only to be cut off by Mob.

“They won’t care.”

Reigen sighed at that, shoulders drooping as he shoved his hands, that Mob only noticed now were shaking, into the pocket of his pants.

What had he done wrong to elicit this type of response from Reigen?

Was it his powers or because he hurt Reigen that day amongst a shattered city that made his shishou fear him?

He couldn’t fault Reigen for being afraid of him, Mob decided, eyes drifting to his shishou’s forehead. That was where the scar, the very one that resulted from Mob’s failures, was hidden beneath strands of gold.

(“I-I’m not scared of you… I could never be scared of you,” Reigen said, even while Mob found himself struggling to believe him.

Could he be blamed after so many incidences of his shishou recoiling or flinching away from him, as if Mob was the monster that threatened to swallow him whole?

But Reigen wasn’t wrong to be afraid of him, was he?

Mob had hurt him that day, made him bleed and break, spilled his blood on those broken streets.

Shishou would be right to be afraid of him, to not trust him and—

“J-just… just hold me, please?” but he would never deny his shishou anything, not now or ever.

He would never tire of Reigen’s warmth, of his hands against his, the comfort that his shishou exuded. Nor his warm scent of lemon, rose and lavender, that Mob wished he could drown himself within until his last breath. The weight and feeling of him against Mob’s chest, in his arms, soothed him, because he knew his Reigen was safe and sound.

“M’sorry,” Reigen sniffled, making Mob’s heart clench and stutter to a stop. “I’m sorry, Mob.”

How much had his shishou suffered, he pondered, feeling the hands he adored clench on the back of his hoodie.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. You did nothing wrong—it wasn’t your fault. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you.”

What had Mob done to make it seem like Reigen needed to apologize to him when he was the one who was suffering? When it was Mob who continued to fail Reigen and should grovel for forgiveness.

If it was even just this, Reigen allowing Mob in his orbit, then he would take it. He would stand by and watch over his shishou for eternity if he would let Mob.)

But things had been getting better, right?

Reigen wasn’t flinching away or recoiling from him anymore, even seeking him out now. More so after Kutsuki, Mob mulled, glancing from Reigen and to the futons again. What he would do to get his hands on Kutsuki and make him regret ever laying his eyes on Reigen.

His shishou was truly too kind for sparing Kutsuki.

God, he loved him. Mob loved Reigen so much that it hurt and was love supposed to hurt so much?

But he shouldn’t push Reigen, even if it made little sense to Mob or made his heart break. Whatever his shishou wanted, Mob would see it through.

Now and always.

He bit his lip, peering over at Reigen, aching at the anxiety exuding off him. “I’m sorry. I can go speak with them and—”

“It’s fine, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Reigen shook his head, rocking back on his heels and Mob could see how he carefully chose his next words. “I just… like my privacy.”

What changed between the then and now, Shishou?

Why are you unable to tell me what’s wrong?

Please… let me help you.

Mob nodded, regretting saying anything in the first place at the pinched expression that stayed frozen on Reigen’s face. He should have just let Reigen do whatever he wanted.

Why was Mob always putting his foot in his mouth?

“Mob—”

“It’s okay, Shishou,” he said with a smile, shoving his own hands in his grey hoodie.

He was barely resisting the urge to pull Reigen to his chest to try to wash that look of misery and regret he always seemed to put on his shishou’s face away.

(Mob couldn’t understand why everything he did only hurt Reigen further and sometimes it felt like the more he tried to hold on or help, the worse he made things.

“Why are you crying?” he didn’t know what to do, Mob mused, anguish cutting his heart to pieces when Reigen began to weep again. His hands came up to cradle Reigen’s face, thumbs brushing tears away. “You’re safe now, Shishou.”

Reigen shook his head, tears continuing to spill from his already swollen eyes and Mob wished he could pull his shishou to his chest—holding him close to protect him from his fears and keep him safe at his side.

“Shishou, please don’t cry. I won’t let anything happen to you,” that only made Reigen cry harder, and had Mob’s eyes stinging with his own tears. Why was he always failing his shishou or making things worse? “Tell me how to fix this—tell me how I can help you.”

Nothing he did or said ever seemed to be right, and maybe that was the reason he was being kept on the outside, in the dark about this secret?

Because he wasn’t reliable and would make things worse.

The proof was right before him, right?

“Mob, I’m sorry.”

They were right to shut Mob out, closing the door in his face because he was a monster. T he same one who hurt his shishou before and now.

Dimple had been right, he shouldn’t confess, and not just because of all the reasons he had given Mob.

Too young, too old, Reigen didn’t see him like that. It wasn’t the right time or place and so many reasons that blurred together. But the true reason was because Mob wasn’t good enough for Reigen.

Maybe one day, when he could finally stop failing his shishou, he would be graced with a chance?)

He didn’t know how to fight against the invisible terrors and nightmares following his shishou. There were things haunting Reigen that Mob couldn’t see, no matter how hard he tried.

Even though he just wanted to help, all he did was hurt Reigen.

Everyone was in on this secret, but Mob.

But it didn’t matter in the end, because Shishou could ignore him for eternity and Mob would still wait for him forever.

“I can sleep somewhere else,” he murmured, kneeling and setting his bag next to his futon, plucking at the loose threads of it.

Reigen hummed softly and the sound of a pill container opening, something Mob was familiar with, had his eyes focusing on anything but his shishou. Mob didn’t want to see what look must have been on his face.

Will you give me the chance to make you happy, Shishou?

“And where are you going to sleep, then?” Reigen laughed lightly.

One that made Mob’s heart fill with warmth when he heard the joy in it and that was all he had ever wanted. To make sure his shishou was happy, safe, and healthy.

I love you so much… Do you know that, Reigen-shishou?

“They probably don’t have any other rooms available so last minute, but… I could sleep in the rental car or—”

Mob would give him the world, universe, everything and anything, if Reigen asked.

Reigen balked at that, scoffing with an incredulous look on his face. “I’m not going to let you sleep in the car!”

There was no other option but to share a room when Reigen had gone to speak with the owner after, who confirmed there were no other rooms available.

“—not safe and what if—”

He knew Reigen was uncomfortable as the two of them settled in for the night and he tried not to let it get to him when he noted his shishou had pulled his futon further away from Mob’s at some point.

It was as if Reigen wanted to be as far away as possible from Mob.

“—what would your parents say—”

Mob would tear the stars, moon and sun from the sky to gift them to Reigen if he asked—he would let his shishou carve out a place in his heart, cut it open to make a home amongst the flowers that bloomed for him there.

“—listening? Mob? Hey—”

Was he disgusted by Mob? Was that why he was so far away? Drifting further out of his reach. So far away and Mob couldn’t reach him. Always stumbling and failing to catch Reigen when he falls and—

“Mob!” he blinked up from his futon towards Reigen.

Who must have been speaking about Mob’s earlier offer to sleep in the rental car again. But when he looked away from his futon, he expected to find Reigen a distance away, yet his shishou was right in front of him, with a hand reaching out to… What?

Cradle his face while breathing in the scent of lemon, rose, lavender and divinity, because Mob had been lost in his thoughts and was worrying Reigen for no reason. There was a deep furrow in Reigen’s brows, the beginnings of concern settling over his features as he slid a hand up from Mob’s jaw to his forehead.

Mob couldn’t do anything right, could he? Constantly worrying, scaring or upsetting Reigen, when all he wanted to do was help. Were the others truly wrong for excluding him when they knew Mob wasn’t good enough for Reigen—when he had and would continue to hurt his shishou?

“Are you feeling okay? I was calling you for a few minutes there.”

He would be fine so long as his shishou was okay. But Reigen wasn’t okay, and that meant Mob had failed.

Reigen’s face pinched further in apprehension, eyes searching his face, looking and failing to find what was causing Mob’s silence.

“Mob?”

I love you so much and it's killing me.

“Ah… Sorry. I’m just…” worried about you, he almost said, choosing to shake his head with a sigh instead. “Tired… with getting everything ready for school.”

Reigen didn’t look completely convinced, but he slowly nodded and accepted the lie. Mob knew he shouldn’t be lying, least of all to his shishou, but what else could he have said?

Mob couldn’t speak the true words trapped behind his lips, could he?

You’re breaking my heart, and I can only blame myself for failing you.

Please let me help.

Let me fix this.

I would give you anything, my heart, body and soul, to see you smile.

Shishou’s hand was warm against his skin, soft and gentle, like Mob was something precious and needed to be treated delicately. He would give his shishou, any and every allowance, to do what he wanted with Mob.

But it was the kindness in his voice and that very touch that made Mob’s eyes sting. He didn’t deserve any of this.

“You’re not warm, but if you feel worse, you need to let me know, okay?” Reigen said with a slight frown.

“Okay,” he mumbled morosely.

Could Mob even feel any worse than he already did?

He knew it wasn’t his fault for the room mix-up, but it still made something rotten settle in his gut to have Reigen be so vehemently against it.

Had he done something wrong?

Why was Mob even asking himself that when he knew he had made mistakes? He had overstepped too many boundaries, and he thought they had worked past that, but he was a fool for assuming it would be that easy.

Forgiveness was earned and not given, especially for someone like Mob.

Reigen squinted at him, hands still not leaving Mob’s face. “Are you sure you’re feeling fine?”

The slender hand that had been checking his temperature slid back down to Mob’s cheek. He shouldn’t want this so badly, not when his shishou had no idea what he did to him and that he took Mob’s breath away every day in every way.

Would Reigen have touched him so casually if he knew about the feelings Mob had for him—the love Mob had fanned and turned into an enraging inferno?

Probably not, Mob decided, leaning into Reigen’s touch.

He was a weak man when it came to his shishou.

Dimple wouldn’t be happy, but Mob gave himself this one allowance to lay his own hand over Reigen’s. The fact Reigen didn’t flinch away or recoil made the chains around his chest unfurl, even if just a little.

“Mhm, yes. Please don’t worry, I just need…” you—here with me—forever and always, Mob wished to say, choosing instead to focus on the slender beneath his own large and rough one. “Rest.”

What would Reigen have done if Mob were to turn his face just the slightest to press a kiss to the palm of his hand?

Nothing good. Mob knew that and he would never do that.

Never.

Not to his shishou, and not when Reigen was fraying at the edges.

Even so, Mob knew he was being childish and hopelessly naive in hoping Reigen would reciprocate his feelings. He could see the pitying looks Dimple, Ritsu, his parents, Teru, Tome and so many others always gave him.

Poor little Mob, always chasing after Reigen and never catching him. Always failing his shishou. The door slamming in his face, shutting him out and no matter how far he ran after Reigen, all he saw was his shishou drifting further away.

“If you say so… But the second you feel worse, you need to let me know.”

Reigen still looked unconvinced, his brows remained furrowed and lips dipping into a frown. He didn’t want to worry his shishou.

After all, how was Mob supposed to prove himself to him? To show him he was capable, mature and not some naive little boy chasing after a ghost—and won’t he just please give Mob a chance?

“I will.”

He should have slept somewhere else, regardless of what shishou wanted, and he would realize that hours later, when he awoke up to the sound of Reigen’s muffled whimpers.

“No—”

Soft cries that had Mob jolting up and out of his futon, stumbling over his own feet to get to Reigen. His powers were at the tip of his fingers, eyes darting around the dark room, trying and failing to find the one hurting his shishou.

But there was no monster here, it was just Mob and Reigen.

“Ngh—please—n-no!”

Reigen’s sob had Mob moving again, darting closer to his shishou and using his powers to flick the light on.

His heart broke at the sight that met his eyes.

Tangled and struggling beneath his blanket, his shishou’s face was flushed red and soaked in tears. There was pure terror on his face and in his voice that made Mob’s eyes sting.

“S-Shishou,” he gasped, dropping to his knees next to Reigen, hands darting out before Mob could stop himself from shaking his shishou’s shoulder to wake him from his nightmare. “Reigen-shishou—”

The moment his hand touched Reigen’s shoulder, his eyes snapped open and locked onto move as he jolted away as if he had been struck. Reigen scrambled back and away, or he tried to, but failed with the blanket tangled around his legs.

“No! No, no—”

“Shishou—”

“Stop!” Reigen only became more distressed, weeping harder when he failed to free himself from the blanket. Mob could barely understand what his shishou was saying between his chest rattling sobs and pleas. “Please—”

“Reigen-shishou,” Mob rasped, even though it was apparent Reigen couldn’t hear him from where he was trapped. It made Mob want to weep. It’s okay, please—”

He hadn’t seen Reigen breakdown like this in what felt like ages, other than the incident at the festival and with Kutsuki, his shishou had appeared to be doing better.

But had he truly been doing better?

Was it all just an act or another mask?

How much of Reigen’s suffering had he been blind to, and would he ever stop failing him?

Reigen shook his head, tears drenching his face as he wept breathlessly. “Mob!”

At his name, the terror and desperation in Reigen’s voice, he shifted forward with the desire to do anything he could to take away his shishou’s pain.

“Shishou, please… Come back to me,” he whispered, hands twitching at his sides with the urge to pull Reigen into an embrace.

Despite being physically here, Reigen was too far away, his mind adrift, while his teary eyes darted around in panic. It was all Mob could do to keep himself from pulling Reigen to his chest when he cowered and covered his ears with his hands.

Eyes clenched shut and tears continuing to drip down the curve of his flushed cheeks, while Mob watched helplessly.

What could he do to help when it seemed like Reigen didn’t even know where or who he was with?

Biting his lip, he thought back on what Reigen and the others had done for him whenever he had his own nightmares—of Mogami and losing control.

There were too many nights where his mother, father, or Ritsu stayed at his side, whispering soft words of comfort while waiting for him to break free from the torment he was ensnared in.

The same way that Reigen had sat at Mob’s side on the last overnight case they had gone on years ago, after Mogami and before his shishou had changed.

Soft words had spoken in the dark, a familiar warmth a distance away and moonlight casting a glow to golden hair. Mob could remember it clearly even now, the way he had pressed his tear-soaked face into Reigen’s chest and his shishou had allowed it.

Reigen had wrapped his arms around him, warm and protective, with his own guilt laid bare on his face. His shishou always had regretted taking Mob on the Mogami case, a guilt he carried even now.

(Mob gasped weakly. It felt like he had ash in his throat and his blood was boiling with fear. He couldn’t forget Mogami and Minori, nor his time trapped and entangled in that world.

There had been nothing but fear, pain, and suffering within it.

It sucked the air from his lungs and left his face drenched in tears. He couldn’t escape it, not now and not then. He would never be free. Mob was going to be trapped here with Mogami forever, and ever, and—

“Mob!”

Warm hands cradled his face, and there was a shadow above him. But it was Reigen, he told himself, blinking past the darkness and tears blurring his vision.

Shishou looked worried, face twisted in concern from what little Mob could see from the moonlight peaking through the inn window. The bed creaked beneath him, the scratchy sheets brushing against his skin as he tried to make sense of things.

“S-Shishou?” he rasped in confusion.

Where was he?

Was this a dream that he would soon awaken from to find himself back in that world with Mogami?

Or had that been a dream while this was reality?

Reigen nodded, shifting to settle in beside Mob over the blanket, face awash with concern and guilt. Mob wondered what he had said in his sleep for his shishou to have that look on his face?

“It’s okay, you’re here—with me,” Reigen murmured softly, letting his familiar, calming and adoring scent wash over Mob.

Citrus, floral and safe.

Everything he associated with his shishou who had saved Mob so long ago and with a tearful sob, he breathed in Reigen’s scent.

“Reigen-shishou…”

Mob couldn’t make sense of things, of what was the here and now. But it was only Reigen’s soft hands, his warm voice and kind eyes that kept Mob grounded.

That pulled him from his despair and into his shishou’s chest, his hands scrambling to clutch at the back of Reigen’s grey pyjama top, tears soaking it while he listened to his shishou’s heartbeat and quiet murmurs.

“Shh, it’s okay. Don’t worry, I’m here. Come back to me, Mob,” Reigen crooned, letting Mob cling to him with the desire to never let go.

It was to that voice and the heartbeat gently beating against his ear that Mob came back into himself, in the here and now in Reigen’s arms.)

He now understood intimately how helpless Reigen felt in that moment, unable to help the light of his life. But the least Mob could do was whisper soft words, of anything and everything, until Reigen broke free of his nightmare.

Never had he felt more helpless than now.

Mob never seemed to do the right thing when it came to helping his beloved, did he?

Maybe he should summon Dimple, but that thought drifted away when his Reigen’s cries petered off as he slowly fell back into a restless sleep with Mob watching on. For a moment he wondered if it had been a dream, but the sight of tear tracks on Reigen’s face reminded him it was anything but a dream.

Though when they awoke the next morning, Reigen avoided Mob’s gaze while they readied themselves to head out and return to Seasoning City. Their silence erased last night, as if it had been only a bad dream.

If he were to ask would Reigen tell him what was wrong, Mob mused, grabbing his bag and ignoring the look Reigen shot him when he took his shishou’s suitcase from his hands when they checked out.

(“Mob,” Reigen murmured, ruffling his hair and Mob leans into that gentle touch, those warms hands that never failed to soothe him. “Just talk to me next time, okay?”)

Even though Reigen had told him to talk to him, he knew his shishou would simply smile with a fond laugh, one that would be at odds with the furrow in his brow that always appeared when Mob asked questions he would rather not answer.

His shishou would wave Mob’s concerns off like always, and then… he would speak to the others, wouldn’t he?

To everyone but Mob.

He could understand what he had done to make Reigen treat him like this. Didn’t he know Mob would do anything for him?

If Reigen asked Mob to tear his own heart out, cut it to pieces and serve it to him on a silver platter, he would. Mob would thrust a hand through his own chest and present his still beating heart to his shishou with a smile.

Instead, he sighed and followed Reigen silently when they checked out and made their way to the car. The sun was out and the breeze against his skin was pleasant, but Mob felt miserable.

I would do anything for you, Shishou.

─────────

He was fidgeting, Mob knew he was, and it was irritating Ritsu. Though Ritsu said nothing, but the way his eyebrow twitched every time Mob bounced his leg against the couch was telling enough.

Enough that Ritsu paused the movie they were watching and turned to him, eyes searching Mob’s face. It only made him flush and bounce his leg more. Something that Ritsu noted. His gaze flickering from Mob’s leg and to his face, lips pursed in thought.

“Nii-san, what’s wrong?”

“I—uhm, nothing. What makes you think something is wrong?”

“Nii-san.”

He almost didn’t want to say anything or mention that he was concerned about Reigen, not when Ritsu and his parents were furious about his plans to confess.

“Its… its Reigen-shishou.”

“Of course it is,” Ritsu sighed in exasperation, rolling his eyes and raising an eyebrow in question. “What did that fraud do now?”

“Nothing. But… have you noticed anything different about him?”

“Different how?” Ritsu paused, eyes flickering to the side before they settled on Mob again.

For a moment, he wondered if Ritsu knew something that Mob didn’t.

“He’s…” scared of me—of everyone—and I don’t know what to do or what happened. Yet Mob said none of those things, shaking his head and holding Ritsu’s heavy stare. “Something is wrong.”

“You worry too much.”

“Ritsu—”

Why wasn’t anyone listening to him?

They were all telling Mob not to worry, and let the others handle it, but he was so sick of being left to rot. Of being brushed aside and told it wasn’t his place to worry when it was.

Mob was always worried when it came to Reigen. Why wouldn’t he be?

Ritsu sighed deeply, tilting his head in thought before speaking. “Reigen-san is capable. He may be a fraud, but he’s a capable one. You should believe in him and trust he can take care of himself.”

Even though Ritsu said that, why did it seem like he—and everyone else—struggled to believe their own words?

He nodded morosely, looking away from Ritsu and back to the television. For a moment Ritsu said nothing, waiting for him to speak more, but when the silence continued, he sighed and unpaused the movie.

Why was everyone telling him to believe in them or shishou, but no one would believe in Mob?

They didn’t trust in him to help and be there for Reigen, with whatever was causing his shishou to suffer.

Please trust in me, Mob wanted to wail, taking in a shaky breath, while he clawed at the door the others had shut in his face, keeping him from Reigen.

Why wouldn’t they let him in?

─────────

He wondered what Reigen would have said if he knew Mob had been coming around the office during on the weekends or after it was closed for the day. Sometimes it was to study or get some space from his family, and at other times it was to be close to Reigen in whatever way he could be.

Would his shishou be mad that Mob was using the extra key he had given him all those years ago for this?

Maybe.

But it was a simple metal key, nothing special. Even so, Mob treated it as if it were made of glass. The key was always kept safely tucked away in his desk at home, or on a chain around his neck, flush against his chest.

He treated the key with the same delicacy he would treat his shishou’s heart with, if Reigen would allow Mob to love him. What would Reigen say if Mob were to lay his tattered and frayed heart into the hands he adored, speaking the words he always kept sealed behind his lips.

I love you, Reigen-shishou. Will you please be mine?

When exactly had he started seeing his beloved shishou’s hands, the tools of his trade, as more than that?

Another part of Reigen he admired, those slim hands that Mob wished to hold, adore and cradle within his own.

Would Reigen let him?

Probably not, Mob mused with a sardonic smile, thumbing the key on a chain around his neck while he turned the corner to the street the office was at.

The feel of it against his skin grounded him. If Mob closed his eyes and thought hard enough, he could almost remember the warmth of Reigen’s hands when he had placed the key in his palm so long ago.

The key was nothing special, but to Mob, it meant the world.

It was entry to the office, the very place where his life began and would end, he reflected, stopping in his tracks when he neared the office and found a man standing in front of the doors to the stairwell.

Tall and muscular, the man wore a white t-shirt and black sweats, with a black backpack slung over one shoulder. His dark hair, reaching just above his shoulders, fluttered in the pleasant breeze; his hands were tucked in the pockets of his sweatpants.

He looked familiar, even from the distance shortening between them as Mob tried to squint at him through the sunlight, until he stopped distance away from him.

More than what was needed, but Mob didn’t want to get near this man if he didn’t have to.

After all, this was the man from the festival who had set Mob’s teeth on edge.

“The office is closed today.”

His words had the man startling, dark—almost black—eyes whipping away from the Spirits and Such sign to glance at Mob. There was an odd look on the man’s face, one that came and went just as quickly, that Mob couldn’t even begin to decipher.

“Oh, that’s unfortunate… Kageyama-kun, was it?” the man asked, lips pulling into a smile, one on that teetered on the brink of smirk when Mob nodded. “I was hoping to meet with Reigen-san today.”

“Did you have an appointment?”

He didn’t understand what the man found so funny about that, with how his lips curled and eyes crinkled in amusement.

The man was strange.

“No. I don’t,” the man admitted, rocking back on his heels with a quiet hum. “Did I need one? I was thinking I could just walk in…”

Normally he would have given a client an alternate date and told them to come by when Reigen would be in, but Mob didn’t this time. Something in his mind was telling him that this man had no right to be near his shishou.

“We’re usually closed on the weekends.”

“Hm,” the man pulled a hand from the pocket of his sweats to rake a hand through his dark hair, lips still stuck in that ever-present smirk. A part of Mob wanted to wipe it off. It was a violent thought, so sudden and out of the ordinary that he startled himself. “Is Reigen-san always in then—only on the weekdays—that is?”

“Yes. During office hours,” he said, and Mob wasn’t sure what compelled him to, but he tacked on his next words seconds later, that had the man’s lips twitching down. “We work as a team. There will always be someone else, if Shishou isn’t available, to help you.”

The man hummed softly, nodding before speaking again. “I’ll come by another day then.”

“Wait,” Mob called out, unsure why or what forced him to speak to the man again, but he needed and wanted to know. “What did you want from Shishou?”

With an amused grin, the man chuckled lightly. “What, can’t I say hi to an old friend?”

It didn’t seem like they were friends was what Mob wanted to spit at the man, but Reigen had always told him to be polite to customers, hadn’t he? So, he could only bite his tongue and stare blankly at the man. Whose grin widened, dark hair fluttering in the breeze while equally dark eyes studied Mob’s face, as if he was searching for something.

“Protective little guy, aren’t you?”

Shishou would forgive him if he lashed out this once, right?

Something about this man made his hair stand on end since the day he found him with Reigen at the festival. No, the man not only made his hair stand on end, but Mob’s blood boiled in a fury he couldn’t make sense of.

The man had done nothing wrong. If anything, he had helped his shishou at the festival, hadn’t he?

Was it just jealousy?

Working his jaw, Mob swallowed down his anger, if not for himself, then Reigen. “I’ll let Reigen-shishou know you came by.”

“Don’t worry about it, kid.”

The man, whose name was on the tip of his tongue, waved him off just as Mob’s eyes locked onto the tattoo on his arm.

It was a snake and familiar.

From even before the festival, it dragged a memory from the dredges of Mob’s mind to the forefront without his say-so.

(Dark eyes followed his shishou’s every move, trailing after him through the office, as a tall man—dressed in a black t-shirt stretched over his muscular and broad torso, with white sweats and black sneakers—loomed over Mob’s small figure, clad in a simple black shirt, blue jean shorts and white sneakers, at his desk Reigen had set near the office door.

The man smelt vaguely of something spicy, smoky and earthy, with a hint of some odd sweetness.

He didn’t think he liked his smell at all, Mob reflected, resisting the urge to scrunch his nose at the strange man.

“Who’s the kid?” the man asked, tucking his phone in the pocket of his sweats before he raked a hand through his dark hair with a languid smile at Reigen.

Mob stared up at him blankly, strangely unnerved and wanting to get as far away from him as possible.

“Oh, that’s Mob. He’s my disciple,” Reigen’s words left him preening and trying to stand taller, chest puffed out in front of this man who eyed Mob in amusement. “He just started a month ago, but he’s amazing.”

“Is he now?”

There was nothing in particular that the man had done, but he found himself unsettled at how his eyes slide from Mob and over to Reigen.

His shishou bustled about oblivious behind his desk, grabbing something from the shelf before taking a seat at his desk and smoothing out his familiar white button up and grey blazer when he sat down.

He didn’t like how this man was staring at his shishou.

It was wrong.

Strange, odd and not right.

“Mhm, enough about that,” Reigen declared, clapping his hands together before sliding the paper with the pricing across the desk that had the man walking over to peer down at it. “So, these are our packages and—”

He was supposed to go home in a few minutes, his family would be waiting for him and yet Mob ignored Reigen’s curious stare when he stayed seated at his desk, trying and failing to focus on his homework.

His eyes kept drifting back over to the man, studying him until he finally noted the snake tattoo on his arm. The tattoo was intricate and pretty, standing out against the man’s skin.

Though the man barely took notice of Mob’s staring, because he was too focused on Reigen, wasn’t he?

Did his shishou feel the same way Mob did about the man?

Who was strange and odd.

Mob didn’t like him, and he knew Reigen would be disappointed in him for judging someone without knowing them, but his gut churned the longer the man stayed at the office. Until finally, Reigen announced he would help the man speak to his dead mother and began to set up the office for the package the man had purchased.

He hadn’t seen the man again after that day, who had become a distant memory to Mob.)

“It wasn’t anything important. I gotta head out anyway,” the man muttered, sliding his eyes to the sign and back to Mob again.

Leave and never come back, Mob wanted to spit, choosing to remain silent instead.

The man turned to leave, pausing in his steps before glancing back over his shoulder at Mob with that same grin on his face.

Oh, how he was growing to despise that smile.

“Maybe I’ll see you around sometime?” the man said with a soft chuckle, unaware of Mob’s thoughts. “I’d love to get a chance to know the disciple Reigen-san is always talking about.”

Shishou talked about me was his first thought. One that should have had Mob preening internally, but hearing it from this man felt wrong. Everything about this man was wrong, his mind told him.

The man laughed at his silence, giving him one last wave before disappearing down the street.

There was that itch in his brain, one that Mob couldn’t seem to reach even now.

─────────

It had been on his mind since the incident with Kutsuki and Reigen’s breakdown in the aftermath. Mob would never forget the way his shishou’s face shuttered when he had told them no charges were being laid against Kutsuki.

Not enough evidence.

A simple mix-up or confusion.

How could a family man—a well-known member of the community—do what Reigen was accusing him of?

Reigen was taking things the wrong way, and could he prove Kutsuki had ill intentions?

Had Reigen given Kutsuki the wrong impression when he said he would give him a massage?

Kutsuki had been let go with nothing more than a slap on the wrist.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” he asked when Reigen disappeared into the kitchenette.

Tome swivelled her head in his direction from where she was seated next to him on the couch, no longer facing the direction Reigen had disappeared in.

Tome’s brows furrowed in confusion, hands fiddling with the straps of her yellow sundress. “Tell you what?”

Mob wanted to scoff and ask her if she was being purposely obtuse, but instead he picked at the frayed edges of his old beige sweater, going between that and smoothing his sweats out to keep himself from crying.

“About Kutsuki-san.”

“Hah, I did tell you, though?”

“After almost two years of… of…” his shishou having to deal with Kutsuki and his escalating behaviour, Mob wanted to sneer.

How could they have kept him in the dark so long? If they had told Mob before, then—

“Mob-kun, chill out,” Tome cut in, poking his cheek with a finger.

It was only now that Mob noticed their teacups trembling on the coffee table. Flushing in embarrassment, he exhaled deeply and wrangled his powers back in.

“Sorry.”

“Mhm, that’s why… I’m not trying to be mean or anything like that. But you get… weird or just you know,” Tome waved a hand in the air, as if that explained everything. She sighed, dropping her hands into her lap, wrinkling the fabric of her sundress. “When it comes to Reigen-san, and I—we—knew you’d blow a fuse if we told you.”

“Who’s we?”

Mob knew who it was, but he wanted to hear Tome say it and confirm what he already knew. He was an outsider in all this, wasn’t he? A bystander to Reigen’s suffering, muzzled and chain, unable to reach his beloved to soothe his hurt.

Tome bit her lip, eyes skittering away and then back to him guiltily. “Mob-kun, listen—”

He didn’t care to listen to what Tome had to say, not when he was pushing off the couch and his legs were pulling him toward the office door with hurt in his heart. Mob would have to apologize to Reigen for leaving without saying goodbye.

At least he knew he could trust Tome to make sure Reigen got home safely today. Because Mob had to leave, if he stayed, he would have cried, and that misery wasn’t something he wanted to force on Reigen.

Even if it killed Mob to be forced outside of Reigen’s orbit, he never wanted his shishou to feel guilty or obligated to share things with him.

Never.

But it still hurt all the same.

─────────

It was later that night with less than a week left before their classes began again, but he couldn’t focus on that, nor Ritsu’s words. Who was chatting about classes and cram school, all muffled to Mob’s ears as the same thought kept bouncing around in his head.

“Shishou lied to me,” Mob murmured, so quietly that it was a surprise Ritsu even heard him as he fiddled with the sleeve of his blue pyjama set,

With a bemused look, Ritsu laughed lightly and crossed his arms. “He’s a fraud. Lying is what he does.”

“Shishou lied to me.”

Maybe it was his tone or the look on his face this time that finally caught Ritsu’s attention and made his brows furrow with the beginnings of concern.

“About what?”

About everything, nothing and all that was in between.

Instead, Mob settled on saying. “That man.”

“You’re going to have to be a bit more specific, Nii-san. What man are you talking about?”

Of course, Ritsu only looked more worried at his words, eyes drifting to Mob’s glass of milk on the kitchen table that shook slightly. Ritsu reached up to fiddle with the collar of his green shirt, baggy like his grey shorts.

Did Mob sound insane and like a possessive or jealous lover when he didn’t have the right to?

“The man from the festival. He was…” hurting Reigen? No, not that Mob could see. Scaring him? No again, but there had been nothing but fear on Reigen’s face when Mob had finally found him. Fear that bloomed into relief when his eyes connected with Mob’s. “Helping Shishou.”

“From when he hurt his ankle?”

(Shishou looked close to tears. No, it was obvious Reigen had already cried. His eyes were swollen and red, flushed like his face, while tear tracks coated his face.)

“Yes. Shishou said the man was an old client from before he met me.”

He waited for Ritsu to scoff at his word and to tell him that Reigen could have friends—or clients that became friends or regulars—outside of Mob.

(What had happened to put Reigen in this state?)

But Ritsu didn’t.

If anything. Ritsu leaned in closer over the kitchen table, hands pressed flat against it with a strange look in his wide eyes.

“What did he look like?” Ritsu all but demanded.

(“Koji was just about to take him to a first aid station,” the woman explained, rocking the baby in her arms and sending him a smile.

Though he could only stare blankly at her before he glanced over at Reigen with a questioning look. Was she telling the truth?)

“He was tall.”

He wouldn’t have remembered the man if not for the tattoo on full display, the same one Mob had recognized when he ran into him outside the office the other day.

(Reigen nodded hesitantly, quietly sniffling all the while that man, tall and muscular, held him close. It made something dark curdle in Mob’s gut.)

“Not just tall, but… strong—muscular.”

The man, who even when Mob had been so young, he didn’t like, not with the way his eyes followed Reigen. It made him sick to his stomach then and now; the only difference now was that Mob recognized the look of hunger in that dark gaze.

(Was that the truth? It didn’t seem like it was, but could Mob argue against it when Reigen’s ankle was swollen and his shishou seemed to be in unbearable pain?)

“He had black hair and brown eyes—dark—and almost black.”

Shishou was never scared.

Not when he faced Claw, Suzuki or Mob. So, what made him tremble, quake and all but cling to Mob the night of the festival?

(“Oh, thank you for helping Shishou,” Mob muttered, knowing he shouldn’t feel this way when it seemed like the couple was trying to help Reigen.

But it was all he could to keep himself from tearing Reigen out of that man’s hold.)

“He had a snake tattoo on his left arm.”

Familiar, the same one from before, when Mob had first seen the man at the office all those years ago. But the tattoo was faded now, still beautiful, even with the blurred lines and dulled colours.

(For a moment Mob met resistance when he reached to take Reigen from the man—who smelt of something smoky and sweet. It was vaguely familiar—before Mob threw his shishou's arm over his shoulder. It had to have been his imagination, because the man released Reigen to him without question.)

“A name—what was his name?” Ritsu asked, a frenzied air about him.

He would never forget that tattoo.

Never.

Not when the man had unsettled Mob the first time, he met him all those years ago. No, not just at the office, at the festival and at the way his eyes seemed to dissect Reigen.

(Because Reigen was in his arms seconds later, his eyes drifting over his shishou and trying to catalogue any other injuries before his gaze slid back over to that man—to Koji—his mind supplied.)

“The woman with him—his wife, I think—called him Koji? Why?”

Should he be concerned by Ritsu’s sudden interest in this man? Probably. Yes.

Ritsu shook his head, clearing his throat as he leaned back with a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s nothing. I was just curious.”

(How did this man know Reigen-shishou?)

He bit his tongue, wanting to do nothing more than ask why no one would tell him what was happening.

Do you not trust me anymore, Mob wanted to ask.

Was it because he loved Reigen?

Had the others decided that Mob’s love was a threat to his shishou’s well-being?

But he knew—in the same way he knew he would find Reigen at the office with a gilded halo around his head as the sun peaked through the windows and a soft smile on his face just for Mob—that this man was connected to the secret the others hid from him.

The interest Ritsu had in this man made no sense otherwise, nor did his questions or sudden curiosity. That itch was back in the back of his mind, demanding Mob’s attention and that he push Ritsu for answers.

Would Ritsu even tell him anything if he were to ask, Mob pondered, watching Ritsu mutter something under his breath about chores before he left the kitchen to head upstairs to his bedroom.

You know the reason why shishou hurts every day, and you won’t tell me?

─────────

Mob glanced away from where Reigen, clad in a long-sleeved and high collared thin white shirt and black sweats, sat on the bench on the other side of the court, arguing with Dimple about something or the other, and to the vending machine in front of him.

The wind was nice against his skin, even with his white t-shirt sticking to him from sweat. The weather pleasant and the skies clear, the perfect day for them to all go out. He wasn’t sure whose idea it was for them to all go out and play basketball, but it had already ended with Reigen tripping and scraping his knee.

Which led to Tome fussing over him and Ritsu healing the injury while scolding Reigen.

At least they were having fun, Mob mused, shoving his hand in the pocket of his blue shorts to grab his change. He eyed the options in the vending machine. There was water for Reigen, and maybe there was milk too, or—

“Yo, Shigeo-kun,” Teru said, appearing at his side, wiping sweat from his face with the hem of his pink t-shirt before he glanced at the drinks in the vending machine.

“Teru-kun.”

“Having fun?”

Mob always had fun when he was with the others, but especially with his shishou. When Reigen was happy and having fun, of course, Mob would feel the same way.

It was as simple as that.

Even though if it was nice for all of them to go out again before the summer break ended, there was still a question on Mob’s mind, one that had been constant and picking away at his nerves for years.

Since Mob had returned to find Reigen had changed, and when he discovered the others were a part of a secret that they kept him in the dark about.

“Yes,” Mob said, fiddling with the coins in his hand, pondering what to say next. His frustration, hurt and need to know, won in the end. “Do you trust me?”

Teru startled, brows shooting up before he sighed and laughed. “Of course, I do. With my life.”

Then why do you treat me like you don’t, he almost said, glancing to the side and back to Teru again with a frown.

They were all leaving Mob outside to soak in the rain when all he wanted to do was help.

It would be easy to lash out and to turn to Teru to say they all had a strange way of showing that trust.

But there was nothing that needed to be said, because whatever look Mob had on his face made Teru’s laughter peter off and concern take over, until understanding finally settled on his face.

“Do you trust him?” Teru asked softly, peering over to where Tome launched herself at Ritsu, trying and failing to get the basketball, and then to Reigen, who was watching them in curiosity. “Do you trust Reigen-san?”

Reigen grinned widely at them when he finally caught their eyes, but for Mob, he gave him that soft smile he always reserved for him.

Only for Mob.

“Yes. Always.”

There was no one else in the world he trusted as much as Reigen, even more than his family or friends, because Reigen was his one and only one.

The end to his beginning and the beginning to his end.

“Then trust in Reigen-san to be able to handle this,” Teru didn’t reveal what this was, but Mob understood the meaning in his words.

He needed to believe in his shishou the same way Reigen believed in him.

With a nod, he refocused on the vending machine, while Tome dragged Teru back into the game. He could feel Reigen’s eyes burning into his back, but Mob couldn’t bring himself to turn around to see what look was on his shishou’s face.

─────────

He had never done this before, sneaking around behind Reigen’s back and stealing from him, even if they were just pamphlets. The same ones that had been sitting in Mob’s desk drawer like a dirty little secret for the past week.

Do you have an eating disorder?

On their own, Mob wouldn’t think much of them. It was information, resources, supports and other words that blurred on the yellowed crinkled pages the longer he stared at them.

What is depression?

Old pamphlets, Mob pondered, trying and failing to smooth out a wrinkle in one. Not something to be given to clients.

What is anxiety?

He wiped a clammy hand on his black sweats before it drifted up to his chest, wrinkling his black t-shirt as he clutched at it before his hand found the key gently brushing against his shirt hung on a silver chain.

His desk chair creaked when he shifted, a strange feeling bubbling in his gut while he reached to fiddle with the key on the chain around his neck.

Have you been sexually assaulted?

Dimly he could hear his mother calling for him for what had to be the fifth time to come down so they could go get his and Ritsu’s school supplies. He should have been focusing on school, preparing for classes that would begin in a few days, and yet he still couldn’t move.

Not when things were finally clicking into place.

They were long forgotten, but never truly forgotten, those silent encouragements, of sneaking more food onto Reigen’s plate and watching in fear as his beloved continued to wither away.

The secret everyone was in on, that they kept redirecting him from when Mob would ask, it had been right in front of him the entire time.

Mob had just been unable to put it together.

No, not that.

It was because his mind refused to let things click into place.

He thought of pills, dark circles and a gaunt face—of trembling hands, a shaky voice and glassy eyes that didn’t recognize Mob.

The very idea had him balking. It was a thought that had never entered or crossed his mind before, that this would have happened to his Reigen-shishou.

Mob wouldn’t forget it for as long as he lived, the way Reigen feared the touch of others and Mob's touch. No, not just his touch, but Mob himself.

Because for that to have happened, that meant that the unforgivable had happened and they all had kept it from him, right? The room was spinning; he couldn’t suck in enough air.

Why couldn’t Mob breathe?

There was a door that had been slammed shut in his face repeatedly—that he pounded at with his fist and clawed at, begging for entrance—and would someone please let Mob in?

It had been easier to believe that shishou feared Mob and his powers, because he had hurt Reigen.

Rather than this.

The reality that someone had hurt his shishou while Mob was none the wiser. While he had been off playing with his friends and doing god knows what, someone had taken Reigen apart.

No one would let him in. They kept the door sealed shut, ignoring Mob’s blood staining the door as his nails broke when he scratched at it with a desperate plea on his lips.

He felt sick.

This was it, wasn’t it?

Everything that he had known that the others diverted him from or even waved his worries and questions away from.

Was this what it felt like to have a part of yourself die?

Please let me help you, Shishou. I love you, so please don’t shut me out. Please, please, please—

─────────

“What’s on your mind?” Tsubomi asked, gently moving her swing next to him, dark hair fluttering in the wind and equally dark eyes studying Mob. The familiar scent of her perfume, grapefruit, sage and neroli, was soothing, even if he still struggled to ground himself. “You have that look on your face.”

He almost forgot how easily Tsubomi could read him, Mob reflected, glancing next to him where she kicked her jean-clad legs out to swing higher, while her loose white t-shirt fluttered in the breeze.

Mob was always grateful that she would take so much time out of her visit to spend it with him.

“What look?”

“Mhm… The one that tells me you’re thinking about him,” she declared, laughing when Mob choked on his spit and coughed into his fist. Was he that obvious? “What’s wrong?”

“Tsubomi-chan,” something was wrong and had been wrong for so long, he wanted to say. Mob was so tired of standing and waiting on the sidelines. “I think something bad happened to Reigen-shishou.”

She made a soft sound in the back of her throat. “What makes you say that?”

Tsubomi said nothing more than that, waiting for him to collect his thoughts with only the sound of the swings creaking and the rustle of leaves filling the park. It was the park he always went to with Ritsu and Tsubomi growing up, and he found himself meeting her here when his thoughts became too much that night.

“He’s unwell—or has been—for a while now,” Mob said, and perhaps that wasn’t exactly true anymore when Reigen seemed to be doing better, despite the ups and downs. “Reigen-shishou is doing better than before… He eats now and—and isn’t scared of the others anymore—or me.”

“What do you think happened?” Tsubomi whispered, voice almost too low for him to hear, though she had a knowing look in her eyes when he slanted a look towards her.

He bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood, his heart pounding and ears ringing while he parted his lips to answer Tsubomi’s question.

There were too many pieces to the puzzle that were slowly but surely coming together. Things that Mob’s mind rejected and refused to consider even after all this time.

Because to accept it would mean that someone had hurt his Reigen-shishou.

─────────

When Mob thought back on it, he could remember the exact moment he had fallen in love with Reigen.

No, not fallen in love, because he had been in love with him long before that.

Long before that day, he had gazed up at those eyes he adored, filled with tears he wanted to kiss away.

But the exact moment the realization hit him wasn’t on those shattered streets after Tsubomi had rejected him or after her parting words. A smile on her lips and a curious look in her eyes as she told him—

‘I think you already gave your heart away to someone else, Mob-kun.’

He didn’t understand it that day or the next or the one after.

Because who else had Mob’s heart but Tsubomi?

The girl he had chased after for so many years, and the one he had worked so hard to impress.

It made little sense.

Until it did.

Because who else would have Mob’s heart other than Reigen?

The stars to his moon and the beat to his heart.

Mob had been blinded this whole time, oblivious to the fact he had been running around and chasing after Tsubomi, when his heart had already been carved out.

Leaving nothing but a raw and empty space, unfilled even now, missing its other half that laid safe behind Reigen’s ribs.

Everything made sense since then, his reason for living, being and breathing. It was all Reigen, his shishou and beloved. There was no one else in this world or universe Mob could ever love like this.

Not now and not then.

Mob would continue to walk this Earth with a gaping wound in his chest, bleeding and aching because the alternative, to give up on his love for Reigen, would kill him.

Reigen didn’t need to reciprocate, never, because it was enough that Mob could bask in his presence and simply be a part of his life.

He would write letters to his beloved for the rest of eternity, filled with all the words he couldn’t say to Reigen.

Affection, adoration, love and everything in-between. There were no words in any language that could truly capture what Mob felt for Reigen.

His supernova and destiny.

But he would try to hold those letters close, locking them up in the dark where only Mob could find them.

─────────

“It was a lie… from the start. I lie a lot. To my customers… and to you."

Chapter Text

In the end, he would wonder if it was the overnight trip that set this chain of events off or something else.

But Reigen knew it wasn’t the overnight trip, didn’t he?

Mob had known something was wrong from the moment they had reunited. He was more perceptive than others gave him credit for.

Even more so when it came to Reigen, he was like a bloodhound and there was nothing he would miss. Perhaps things would have ended differently if Reigen and everyone had trusted in Mob more?

But what was one more regret in the ocean of doubts Reigen was drowning in?

It would all end the same, wouldn’t it?

With Mob being hurt and the blame being laid at Reigen’s feet. He could only hope that he would be forgiven one day.

─────────

By the time he returned with the tea, Mob was gone and only Tome remained. Her face was pinched in thought, hands clenching the fabric of her yellow sundress in her lap, while she stared at the office door and kicked her white sneakers against the floor.

“Where’d Mob go?”

“He left.”

It was odd for Mob to leave without telling Reigen and saying goodbye. For some reason, it made his heart pang.

“He was supposed to walk me home,” Reigen muttered, rolling the sleeves of his white turtleneck down and patting the pocket of his grey slacks to confirm he had his phone.

Before flushing a harsh red when he realized what he had just said and with the look Tome gave him.

A smirk curled onto her lips as she waggled her eyebrows at him. “Oh, are you sad that Mob-kun isn’t here to walk you home?”

“Pfft, no—I just…”

He had gotten so used to Mob walking him home. It was nice for the two of them to have that time together, with Mob at his side making Reigen feel safe.

Or maybe it was more than just reminiscing about old times with Mob or talking about their day and everything in between?

It was more than just the walks, wasn’t it?

Reigen enjoyed being with Mob, having him at his side and being at Mob’s side in return.

Perhaps it was the strange feeling he got at times when Mob would smile at him or when walk him to his door. Warmth in his eyes and touch when he cradled Reigen to his chest whenever they said goodbye.

He shouldn’t be having these thoughts, should he?

They were strange, different, and not something he should ponder.

Not when it came to Mob.

“Reigen-san?”

Blinking slowly, he glanced from Tome’s concerned gaze and towards the clock, setting the new tea bamboo tray on the coffee table. One that Tome had gifted him with a sheepish smile as Dimple snorted in amusement and told her to keep the broken one as a trophy.

“Ah, sorry. I was thinking that it’s great that at least Ritsu will be coming by later to help out. When’s our next client coming in again?”

“Not until… eleven,” she announced, frowning while she studied Reigen’s face. He wasn’t sure what she was looking for, and it was all he could do to keep his eyes focused on grabbing his teacup from the tray. “What’s wrong?”

There was something wrong with Reigen, beyond what happened with Yamato, and it made him rotten down to his core. Things that he could never say to Tome. But he settled on simply asking Tome about Mob and diverting the conversation elsewhere.

“So, why did Mob leave?”

“It was nothing serious. You know how boys can be. They’re so dramatic,” Tome grumbled, rolling her eyes and grabbing her teacup before leaning back against the couch.

Reigen quirked a brow, taking a seat on the couch opposite to Tome. Somehow, he couldn’t find it in himself to believe it was as simple as that when it came to Mob.

“Tome-chan.”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

This was what he hated the most, how everyone walked around on eggshells with him, treating Reigen like glass and trying to brush his worries off to keep from stressing him. Poor Reigen, so foolish and fragile. Though he couldn’t really complain, when failed to take care of himself time and time again, could he?

“I’m not weak or so delicate that I’ll break.”

Maybe he spoke more harshly than he intended to with how Tome bit her lip and looked away before glancing at him again with a raised brow.

“I never said that.”

Tome didn’t need to say anything, none of them did. Reigen could already see it in the way they treated him.

“You all treat me like… like I’m weak or pathetic!”

“You’re not any of those things—” Tome tried to say, jolting at the accusation, tea sloshing in her cup dangerously.

“Then why do you all act like I am?”

She flinched as if she had been slapped, mouth opening and clicking shut before she pressed her lips into a thin line.

“We just want to protect you.”

“I know. And I appreciate that—I do—but… I need you all to understand I’m not some invalid,” perhaps it was the look on his voice or the desperation in his voice, but Tome’s face twisted in regret He never wanted any of them to feel bad about this, but Reigen was tired of being treated like he was weak. “Please be honest with me, Tome-chan.”

Tome fidgeted with her cup, tapping her nail against it as she carefully chose her words. “Mob-kun was mad that we didn’t tell him about Kutsuki-san.”

Of course, Mob would be angry about that, and it was only fair that he was, Reigen mulled, sipping his tea and wincing at the heat.

He was doing everything he could to keep Mob safe from Reigen’s trauma. He had already taken so much from Mob and couldn’t bear to take anymore. They had been unkind to Mob, treating him like an outside and as if he was untrustworthy.

When Reigen thought about it, he would have done the same thing, wouldn’t he?

Yet, he wasn’t in Mob’s shoes.

So, could he regret lying to Mob and hiding things from him in name of keeping him safe?

Even though he felt guilty for treating Mob in such a way, he needed to be kept at a distance to keep him safe was what Reigen always told himself. But he knew it wasn’t just his own fear of exposing Mob to his trauma that kept him up at night.

He feared what Mob would do if he were to find out about Yamato. The truth was that Mob’s love for Reigen scared him more than anything else.

“Why didn’t any of you say anything to him?” Reigen asked, tone unaccusing as curiosity took over.

 It wasn’t like Reigen himself was any better. He never told Mob about Kutsuki or Yamato.

Tome gave him a look, as if he had asked something he should already know the answer to. “You know how he gets when it comes to you.”

Reigen did know, didn’t he? But despite that, he asked anyway.

“And how does he get?” he questioned, words light while he blew on his tea to cool it down.

“You’re so annoying. You know what I mean,” Tome scoffed with a roll of her eyes. “He’s in love with you.”

Mob was in love with him and Reigen was… Well, he adored Mob.

That was the problem at its core that he deluded himself into believing would go away on its own. He adored Mob so much and Reigen would do anything for him, even if it meant making his most precious person hate him for lying to him again.

He sighed, sipping on his tea and glancing at the clock again. “It’s just a crush. He’ll get over it.”

Tome stared at him blankly, as if he had told a particularly unfunny joke. “Do you really believe that?”

Reigen didn’t really believe it. Something in his gut told him things wouldn’t be so easy, and this wasn’t just a simple crush. Even so, he nodded his head with a sigh and reached over to set his teacup on the coffee table.

“Yes. I do.”

“Do you really think Mob-kun—the same person who was in love with Tsubomi-chan for like ever—only has a crush on you?” Tome said in disbelief. Okay, maybe Reigen sounded deluded when she explained it like that. “He’s totally obsessed with you and it’s kind of cute, in a gross way?”

“…It’s not right for him to love me. It’s wrong.”

He would completely wrinkle his pants if this kept going, Reigen mused, glancing down to where his hands were wrinkling the grey fabric in distress.

But it was that, or he would start clawing at his scars again.

“Why?”

For so many reasons that Reigen would run out of air trying to say them all. Did they all expect him to just accept Mob’s love and move on?

“He’s fourteen years younger than me and I watched him grow up?” Reigen replied, incredulous and pondering if no one understood the ramifications of Mob’s affection for him. “He’s literally a teenager! Do you all want me to go to jail?!”

It wasn’t as if he deserved Mob’s love or affection.

Not when Mob could do better and would hopefully find himself a lovely girl to marry and have a family with, some he could grow old together with.

Tome sighed softly before frowning in thought. “I’m not saying to accept it or anything… Are you really that surprised that he loves you?”

Yes, he was truly surprised every time he was reminded of Mob’s feelings for him.

Why Reigen, of all people?

Mob could have chosen anyone but him. He really couldn’t understand it, and if he thought about it, it made sense that Mob wouldn’t have chosen someone like Reigen of his own free will.

Despite remembering Dimple’s words from the night, he realized Mob’s feelings for him, Reigen still didn’t believe them.

He had to have done something to make Mob fall for him.

“I groom—” he started to say, only for Tome to cut him off.

“Do not finish that sentence!” Tome snapped, teacup rattling when she slammed it down on the coffee table. “You know you say a lot of stupid stuff sometimes!”

“Tome-chan—”

“But this really takes the cake!” there was no way to cut into her tirade after he finally made her snap. “How can you think of yourself like that? That you would do something like that!”

“I’m—”

“You would never—to anyone—and I know you would never let anything like that happen to anyone else either,” Tome whispered, shoulders drooping and eyes sad when she gazed upon Reigen. “How can you think of yourself like this? Reigen-san, you deserve to be loved just as much as anyone else. You’re a good person.”

He couldn’t understand why Tome and the other would care for him so deeply. Did they not see how rotten he was for making Mob like this and for plenty of other reasons?

Reigen didn’t want to steal Mob’s future.

Mob was kind, gentle, handsome and everything that someone would want in a partner. Too good for Reigen and he didn’t deserve him.

“I…” why was he always crying, Reigen mused, taking the tissue Tome offered him to wipe at his tears. “Thank you.”

She smiled at him, soft and as gentle as the look in her eyes, leaning over the coffee table to settle a hand over the one he had on his knee. “No one actually expects you to accept his confession.”

Mob loved him, and that terrified Reigen.

Because that love and adoration wasn’t something Reigen should crave or want.

It seemed kind of cruel for her to say that outright about Mob’s feelings and she must have realized that.

“It’s like you said, Mob-kun is too young… Ah… Reigen-san, you did nothing wrong. You’re a good guy—handsome and kind—so why wouldn’t Mob-kun fall for you?” Tome mused out loud, pulling her hand back with a sigh. “Please don’t think you had anything to do with his feelings. You really didn’t… I mean… Uhm… You really kept him far away for a while…”

“Right…”

It was a relief finally to hear that someone agreed with him.

At times, Reigen had wondered if he was the only one who was losing it with the way everyone was amused by his attempts to reject Mob subtly. He still wasn’t sure if he agreed with Tome and Dimple’s words about him not having a hand in Mob falling for him, but Reigen had little energy to start another argument.

“Well… Who knows what the future holds!” she said suddenly, shaking her head with a wet laugh and leaning back with a wobbly grin.

She would always be Mob’s biggest cheerleader, wouldn’t she?

“It’s still going to be a no.”

“Sure,” it's obvious that there was more Tome wanted to say with how she kept smoothing out her yellow sundress and fidgeting with her hands. Reigen almost didn’t want to hear it, but he waited and let her collect her thoughts. “Soooo… I’ve been also thinking—and don’t get mad at me for saying this—but Dimple and I… Or, uh… All of us, have been thinking therapy would be good for you?”

“Of course, you all talk about me behind my back.”

Tome huffed, crossing her arms in annoyance. “I’m being serious! What you went through was… Ah… Just please consider it. We won’t force you or anything, but I think it would help.”

She said this while reaching over to her backpack on the other end of the couch next to her to pull out pamphlets. He wondered how many more he would add to his drawer to collect dust.

“I, uhm, got these for you and they have some good resources,” she explained, flushing and looking at anything but Reigen. “You don’t have to take them! I just thought they would help…”

“Thank you, Tome-chan. I’ll take a look at them later,” Reigen whispered, taking the pamphlets with a small smile.

Tome nodded, biting her lip and clearly not believing him. They weren’t wrong about him needing therapy.

Whether he was ready for it or not, was another question.

Reigen couldn’t blame her for not believing him when he had been drifting through life since that day in the office. Not when everyone had been watching him fall apart over and over again, with no end in sight.

In the end, she was right. He needed this.

Was this not a part of the healing process Dimple had been trying to press to him?

Not just Dimple, but everyone was trying to help him, all while Reigen continued to spiral. He was hurting them all, wasn’t he?

From Dimple, all the way to Mob, who would—

(“—do anything for you, Shishou. Do you know that?” he had promised not to involve Mob any further, that he wouldn’t drag him down to the grave that Reigen dug himself… so what the hell was he doing right now? “Please… Trust in me.”)

He shook his head, swallowing the lump in his throat and glancing at the clock to confirm there were still a few minutes left before the client would arrive. Reigen needed to ask Tome one more thing to try to settle his mind.

“Tome-chan,” he called out to her, making Tome glance up from where she had started to tidy up their teacups. “Do you trust Mob?”

She quirked a brow, surprise clear on her face. “What kind of question is that? Of course, I do!”

That was a stupid question to ask, Reigen told himself, biting his lip in thought.

But if she and everyone else trusted Mob, then why were they all treating him like he shouldn’t be trusted?

It wasn’t as if Reigen could say Mob would do the unthinkable or be disgusted by him when he knew deep down inside that Mob would never think poorly of him. Whether Mob did the unthinkable was another question.

Yet, how could he punish Mob for something he hadn’t done?

“Should I… Uhm… Should I tell him?” Reigen rasped, throat suddenly feeling dry.

He trusted Mob with his life, so why couldn't Reigen bring himself to tell him about Yamato? Tome froze, staring at him with wide eyes, clearly having thoughts about that before she sighed softly.

“…I think only you can decide that.”

“I know…”

Reigen was terrified of what would or could happen. If he told Mob, then he would be unable to undo it.

The thought of the unknown frightened him.

What if it really did change how Mob viewed him?

Would it snuff out all and any affection or love he held for Reigen?

Tome stood up with the teacups rattling on the tray in her grasp, a soft smile on her face, despite the furrow in her brow. “Sorry, Reigen-san. I know you wished things were different with Mob-kun, but he loves you and… Ah... He really doesn’t think clearly when it comes to you. He’ll probably do something he would regret, but I think he’ll find out eventually.”

She hadn’t seen Mob that day when he had been about to harm Kutsuki. Tome only entered the office in the aftermath with the officers after Reigen had talked Mob down.

Reigen wasn’t sure if Mob would have regretted harming Kutsuki.

With a slow nod, Tome darted off to the kitchenette, just as the office door clicked open to reveal the next client that had Reigen sliding on his customer service mask.

The day passed quickly like that, with Tome leaving a few minutes earlier until Teru suddenly slipped in right after Reigen’s client had left just before lunch.

“Teru-kun, hey,” Reigen said, smiling despite his confusion. “I wasn’t expecting you. Did you forget something at the office?”

“Ah, no. Little brother asked if I could come in today in his place,” Teru explained, raking a hand through his windswept hair and looking pleased with the eyesore of an outfit he wore today. A hot pink t-shirt with some design on it alongside garish neon green pants that had too many belts. Somehow, he made it work. Teru peered around the empty office with a smile. “Did Shigeo-kun and Tome-chan already leave?”

It was strange for Ritsu to not give him a heads up. Usually, he would let Reigen know a day before if he could. With a shrug, Reigen leaned back on the couch, stretching with a yawn before answering Teru’s question.

“She just left a few minutes before you. She said Takane-chan was waiting for her at the station, so I told her to go meet her… And Mob had some things to do, so he had to leave early.”

What a struggle it had been to convince Tome to leave.

She acted as if Reigen would have gotten kidnapped or perished in the few minutes she left him alone before Ritsu arrived. Teru nodded, walking to the couches to sit down on the one across from Reigen, throwing his arms over the back of it.

“And you didn’t join her?”

“Getting my nails done with Tome-chan isn’t really what I wanted to do. Despite how much fun she thinks it'll be,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes at Teru’s quiet snicker.

“Well, if you ever decide to go, I’ll join you. It sounds like fun.”

“Hmph, of course.”

It was safe to say that after Kutsuki everyone’s protectiveness had ramped up, Reigen pondered, listening intently to the client on the other side of his desk share his concerns. He was hyper aware that Teru’s gaze hadn’t left the client, watching the man’s every move. It was endearing, in a way. He had his own little guard dogs.

But also, a bit pathetic to have a bunch of teenagers fretting over him. When the client scuttled out the door, he couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself when Teru’s eyes only slid back to Reigen when the client was out of sight.

“Teru-kun,” he singsonged.

“Hm?”

“Can you tone down the whole…” Reigen waved his hand in Teru’s direction with a sigh.

The last person he expected to have this talk with was Teru. Ritsu was expected, even Tome, but not Teru.

“I haven’t done anything, though,” Teru said innocently.

Teenagers were so annoying, Reigen decided, pinching the bridge of his nose and peering over at Teru from his desk.

“Ha… Whatever. Just cool it, okay?”

Teru gave him a languid smile, nodding before tapping away at his phone.

The day passed slowly like that until Reigen’s stomach rumbled. Which had Teru jumping to his feet and glancing over it him with a grin. He sighed fondly, heart-warming at how protective everyone was, from keeping him safe from danger to ensuring that he ate.

To make sure he was no longer just skin stretched over bones.

Not that he could blame them for the state he had been in before.

Reigen knew he had been doing better with how his body had slowly filled back out, despite the good and bad days. Colour had returned to his skin, his hair no longer weak and falling as much, nor were his dark circles as prominent.

They would never disappear so long as the nightmares continued to plague him.

“We should get a late lunch or early dinner, whatever you want to call it,” Teru announced.

Unlike Ritsu, Teru asked, rather than ordering Reigen to eat or being like Tome, who would have had lunch delivered to the office even before he realized he was hungry. She really had no shame in using her puppy dog eyes to get him to eat everyone on his plate, did she?

Though none of them were like Mob, who only had to glance at him and Reigen would fall over himself to do what was needed to keep him happy. It shouldn’t make his heart tremble or skip a beat when Mob smiled with delight in his eyes at the sight of Reigen savouring every bite of food.

He should appreciate their attempts to care for him, Reigen decided, standing from his seat and stretching with a quiet groan as his back popped.

“Sure, what are you in the mood for?”

That sensation was back again, Reigen realized when he sat down at the sushi restaurant Teru had chosen. Even though he could only really smell the scent of food, Teru—sweet, warm with a hint of something spicy that was his normal scent—Reigen had caught a whiff of something else on their walk here.

A bit smoky and earthy, but there were plenty of things that could be, if he thought about it. From the flowers blooming on the walk over to the scents coming from the restaurants they had passed on the way.

Yet this feeling had been following him around for the past week or two, he wanted to say. A glance around the restaurant, and out the large windows they were seated next to, turned up nothing.

It felt as if he was being watched.

The same feeling he had when he was with Tome the other day just after they had locked up the office for the night and she dragged him to his apartment. That same sensation he had felt the entire walk to the restaurant with Teru, and he was sure it wouldn’t leave even when they left to return to the office.

Reigen was unsettled down to his core.

“Reigen-san?” Teru cleared his throat, making Reigen glance up from his food he had been staring blankly at for several minutes. “Are you okay?”

His immediate thought was to wave off Teru’s concern and tell him he was fine while plastering a brittle smile on his face as he pretended to be okay. It would be easier that way to keep everyone on the outside like Reigen had been doing for the last two years.

But how could he continue doing that when everyone was working so hard to keep him safe and happy—when Reigen had promised to let them help him after all they asked was for him to trust in them.

It had him swallowing down his words at the look of apprehension on Teru’s face.

“Is there…” he started to say, wondering it would be strange of him to ask or make everyone fret further. “Ah… Is there a spirit or anything here?”

Teru’s brows furrowed, his blue eyes darting around the restaurant before landing back on Reigen again after several minutes.

“Not that I can sense or see. Why?”

“…I was just curious,” Reigen muttered, scrambling to soothe Teru’s worries when his face twisted in worry. “It’s nothing! I think I’m still off from what happened with… you know.”

With a grimace, Teru nodded and picked at his own food. “I still can’t believe they let him go like that.”

“It was his word against mine.”

“It’s not fair.”

Life never was, he wanted to say. But it wouldn’t help and would only upset Teru further.

So instead, Reigen gave Teru a bitter smile. “I know, but… Thank you—all of you—for your support.”

Teru's gaze softened, lips quirking up and utter fondness in his voice. “Always. You never have to ask.”

─────────

That night he dreamt of eyes burning into him while hands took him apart, savouring his every flinch and sob, as if this monster wanted to memorize the image of Reigen’s suffering for all of eternity.

He couldn’t remember what the dream was about that following morning, but he had awoken to Mob’s name on his lips and tears rolling down his cheeks.

─────────

As happy as he was for his appetite to return, it was still a chore to cook a meal for one person.

Maybe he should start meal prepping, Reigen mused, drifting through the aisles at the grocery store.

It was already late out with the sun beginning to set, and he wanted to do was change out of his usual white turtleneck and grey slacks into some comfortable pyjamas.

The last thing he wanted was to be out after dark again, not when the incident with Tsubomi coming to the rescue was still fresh in his mind.

If he hadn’t forgotten to stock up on supplies yesterday, then he wouldn’t be wandering around the grocery store this late. Honestly, if he had known his fridge was basically empty, he would have gone with Teru when he walked Reigen home earlier.

Then he wouldn’t have had to leave his apartment so last minute.

Maybe he should have asked Dimple to join him?

He was sure Serizawa could have used a break from Dimple, and it would have eased Reigen’s own anxiety to have someone at his side.

God, he was so pathetic.

No wonder the others always felt the need to hover around him to protect him.

His anxiety had been worse the past week, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of Kutsuki or something else. It felt like he had eyes on him at times, trailing after him and searing into the back of his head.

But it had to be his imagination, because no matter how much Reigen looked around him, he never found the cause.

That still didn’t put him at ease and with that thought, he quickened his pace to grab what he needed to return home as soon as possible.

With that thought on mind, he found what he was looking for and reached up to grab the vegetable stock from the top shelf. Only to flinch and whip around when a hand settled on his shoulder.

One that disappeared as fast as it came when his eyes landed on Mob’s mother, who looked just as surprised as he was. With a small hand pressed to her chest over her lilac tunic dress and an apologetic smile on her face.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you, Reigen-san. You didn’t seem to hear me…”

He needed to pay more attention and stop losing himself to his thoughts, didn’t he?

“Ah, no, it’s alright,” he said, smiling down at her and trying to will his pounding heart to calm down. Reigen took in a deep breath, taking in the scent he knew was all Mob’s mother—coconut, vanilla bourbon and jasmine. “It’s nice to see you.”

“You as well! I was dropping by after work to grab some things when I saw you,” she replied, while he glanced from her face to the basket in her hand. He could already tell she planned to make Mob’s favourite food from the ingredients alone. “Is Shige-chan with you?”

Mob’s mother glanced around after she said that and while Reigen wanted to sigh, he couldn’t really fault her for assuming Mob was with him. People had come to understand that if Reigen was around, then Mob would be nearby.

Or vice versa, he wasn’t sure how he felt about that yet.

He shook his head, grabbing the vegetable stock and dropping it in his basket. “Not today! It was just me and Teru-kun. I’ve been telling Mob to go enjoy the last few days of his summer break instead of wasting it at the office with me.”

There was something in what he said that had her lips quirking up into a smile and eyes crinkling in amusement.

Reigen really couldn’t understand it.

“I don’t think there’s anywhere else—or anyone else—that Shige-chan would rather spend his time with,” she declared with a laugh.

Not that Reigen could say anything against her words when being around Mob made him feel like he was floating and drowning at the same time. Though would she have said the same thing if she knew about Mob’s feelings for him?

It wasn’t something he would ever ask, so instead, he smiled softly. “Heh, I don’t know about that Kageyama-san.”

She hummed quietly, still amused, eyes searching his face before she seemed to make a decision. “Would you like to join us for dinner tonight?”

“I couldn’t…”

“We’ve talked about this, Reigen-san. Please don’t think you’re intruding. You’re family and we love having you join us—and we’re having ramen. That’s your favourite, right?”

He wouldn’t bother trying to disagree with her after he had learned just how headstrong she was—just like Mob—and would it be so bad to agree to her offer? After all, he would get to see Mob and wouldn’t have to wander back home on his own with this foreboding feeling that hadn’t left him all day.

“Hah, well… when you put it like that, who I am to disagree?”

Mob got his smile from his mother, Reigen reflected when she grinned at him in delight.

“Wonderful! I just need to grab a few things, and we can head out!”

It never failed to fill him with warmth being in the Kageyama household.

The family and the home exuded a comfort Reigen never thought he would ever experience. It was nothing like the cold and empty halls of his own childhood home—of silent meals, harsh words and pained cries.

He was listening to Mob’s mother share her ramen recipe, the one that she said Mob adored.

Unbidden, he wondered what Mob would say or do if Reigen were to make it for him.

“Shige-chan loves when you add a bit of—” Mob’s mother bustled about, going over the recipe before they were interrupted.

“Reigen-Shishou?”

At Mob’s voice, he looked away from Mob’s mother and towards the kitchen entrance. Mob was standing there in black shorts and a t-shirt clinging to his sweat soaked body. He looked surprised, happy and mortified at the same time, oddly enough.

“Oh. Hey, Mob,” Reigen greeted with a smile. “Did you just come back from a run?”

A part of him still wanted to ask why Mob had left the office the other week, but he didn’t dare to bring it up now. Though he was still hurt to have Mob leave without saying goodbye and when he was supposed to walk him home.

How embarrassing, Reigen reflected with an internal grimace.

He couldn’t begin to imagine what kind of reaction he would get from Mob’s parents if they were to find out that Mob was constantly following him home. Nor what he could say when they asked why there was a need for Mob and the others to walk him home.

Wasn’t he a grown man?

Reigen knew he shouldn’t encourage Mob by letting him walk him home, amongst other issues. But there was something beyond the feeling of safety and warmth he got from being around Mob.

There was something else there that Reigen refused to pick at, lest he start picking and tearing at his scars until he revealed the bone beneath his flesh.

“I—uhm, I didn’t know you were coming by today,” Mob stuttered, raking a hand through his sweaty hair.

Did Mob not want him to come over, Reigen pondered for a second, before he pushed that thought away.

Mob would never leave his side if Reigen gave him the chance. That thought shouldn’t make him as happy as it did.

“Heh, don’t act like you’re not happy that Reigen-san joining us today, Shige-chan!” Mob’s father laughed from the couch, looking comfortable in a pair of black sweats and a white sweater.

“Tou-san,” Mob whined, flushing a deep red while Reigen laughed at his expense. “I’m going to go shower!”

“He’s at that age. I think he’s just embarrassed you caught him all sweaty after his workout,” Mob’s mother tittered at his side when Mob all but ran out and up the stairs.

Would they laugh if they knew about the love Mob held for him, he reflected with a smile, despite the way his heart twisted itself in to knots.

But he didn’t get to respond when the sound of the front door opening came, and seconds later Ritsu appeared at the entrance to the kitchen where Mob had been moments ago.

“Reigen-san?” Ritsu said, raising an eyebrow in curiosity, shoving his phone into the back pocket of his grey jeans before crossing his arms of his black hoodie clad chest. “I didn’t know you were coming over today.”

“I wasn’t, but—”

“I ran into him while I was grabbing things for dinner tonight at the grocery store,” Mob’s mother cut in with a smile, handing Reigen a baby blue apron while she put on a red one.

“By himself?" Ritsu clarified, eyeing how Reigen’s brow twitched at his words.

“Yes?” she replied in confusion.

“Ha! Ritsu might have a bedtime, but I don’t,” Reigen laughed loudly, stepping over to Ritsu to slap a hand on his shoulder and whisper under his breath. “I’m a grown man, Ritsu.”

Ritsu shrugged his hand off with a frown, voice low. “It’s not safe.”

“Is anywhere really safe?” he murmured, not waiting for a response before returning to help Mob’s mother with dinner.

It was nice having dinner with the Kageyama family, Mob at his side—his compass and safe place—while they enjoyed a home cooked meal. He wouldn’t mind doing this for the rest of his life, being a part of their little family if they would let him.

The walk back to his place after dinner with the Kageyama family were always a plus, too.

─────────

It was a normal day at the office with the sound of Reigen’s tapping away at his laptop keyboard, filling the air while Mob’s pencil scratched away at whatever he was writing on that paper.

Mob always seemed to be writing something or the other nowadays, Reigen mused, peering away from his laptop to where Mob was focused on the paper before him.

But whenever he asked, Mob always gave him a secretive little smile, one that was a touch sad and forlorn

He wondered if Mob would tell him if he were to push?

Probably, Mob was never good at saying no to Reigen.

At least when it mattered, he told himself, fiddling with the collar of his black turtleneck before dropping his hand into his lap where he fiddled with the belt looped through his beige slacks.

Reigen knew Mob would have given him the world if he were to ask and that terrified him, he mulled, blinking when a shadow fell over him.

Though the scent of jasmine, sandalwood and lilac told him it was Mob before he even had to look.

Blinking at his screen, he peered over his shoulder and up at Mob, whose gaze was half-lidded as he stared right through Reigen.

“Mob?” Reigen said, a touch confused.

It felt like he was being dissected, as if Mob was seeing straight through to his bleeding and aching soul.

“Reigen-Shishou,” Mob crooned, suddenly gripping the back of Reigen’s chair with large hands to swivel it around with him on it.

There was a strange feeling—fear that he should never feel around Mob—building inside him while he peered up at Mob with growing concern.

He cleared his throat, eyeing where Mob’s hands settled on the armrests of his chair. “What’s wrong?”

“My parents are unhappy with the decision that I’ve made. I told them I won’t change my mind and that I’ve decided to chase my happiness,” Mob revealed, smiling down at him and stepping closer to stand between Reigen’s spread thighs.

It had Reigen trying to lean back away with fear and dread growing within him.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, unable to make sense of what was happening, nor why Mob was so close. Though when Mob’s hands moved to settle on his inner thighs, Reigen cried out in alarm and terror. “W-what are you doing?!”

“I've decided to be selfish for once. I think I spent enough time watching that video and wishing it was me in his place,” Mob admitted, voice husky, pitched low and a touch breathless. This wasn’t his Mob. It couldn’t be. His Mob would never do this to him and nor would he dig his nails into the meat of Reigen’s thighs while absolute horror crawled up his throat. “What’s wrong? Babe, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,”

“B-babe?” Reigen rasped, blinking tears back with a shake of his head as Mob blurred. “W-what video? What are you talking about?”

Reigen couldn’t stop himself from bringing his hands up to push against Mob’s chest, whimpering when, despite his efforts, he didn’t budge.

But it was Mob’s soft laughter, cruel and amused, that made him start weeping in despair and betrayal.

Mob chuckled gruffly. “So stupid. Did you really think that would work, Shishou? Just a pretty face, aren’t you?”

That was all the warning he had before hands were suddenly gripping his biceps, tugging him to his feet and shoving him back against his desk.

“Stop! Mob, stop it!” he cried out, trying to breathe over his panic while the room spun as he scrambled to grab at the desk beneath him and kick out at Mob. “Don’t! N-no—I don’t want this!”

“Why are you lying to me?” Mob murmured, leaning over his shuddering body and reaching down to thumb at Reigen’s belt. “I’ve seen the way you look at me. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

The feeling of his belt being torn off, clinking when it hit the floor and the feel of Mob’s hand on his jaw, forcing him to look up into red eyes, broke him.

“Why are you crying?” Mob asked, hands warm and searing as he brushed Reigen’s tears away. “You’re safe now, Shishou.”

─────────

There were plenty of things he knew Dimple wanted to say, Reigen reflected, fidgeting with the cigarette pack in his hand as he sat on the edge of his bed. Though still unopened, it brought him comfort to have the familiar weight in his hands.

He was waiting for Dimple to tell him off about the cigarettes after lecturing him over what a bad habit it was.

Of course, Dimple did anything but that.

“Did you want to talk about it?” Dimple asked from next to him on the bed.

What more was there to talk about when it was the same nightmares over and over again?

Sometimes it was Yamato tearing him apart, or Kutsuki, and then there was Mob.

Sweet and kind Mob, who had held him down in his nightmares.

Who would ignore Reigen’s pleas, tears and apologies.

He hated how his nightmares all blended together now, and he never knew if it was Yamato, Kutsuki, Mob, or a combination of them all that would greet him.

“Mhm… I don’t know. I’m tired,” he rasped, peering down at his body covered by a pair of grey sweats and a loose white shirt.

Reigen wished he could become something else—or someone else—that would make eyes look away from him in disgust at the sight of him.

Rather than peer at him with want, hunger and a desire.

But he couldn’t go back to treating his body poorly, even if his stomach still rebelled some days and he would rather not eat anything because the nausea was too much alongside the memories that stripped him of his appetite.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

A walk would help, he mused, placing the cigarette pack on his nightstand.

But did he want to go on one when he still couldn’t get rid of that feeling of being watched? As if layers of his skin were being peeled back to look at flesh and veins hidden beneath. That sensation he felt when he was with Tome and Teru earlier today only went away when Mob had walked him home after dinner and his front door clicked shut behind him.

“Do you sense anything or any spirits around me?” his sudden question had Dimple glancing around the room and then to Reigen again.

“No, why?” Dimple replied in confusion.

“Sometimes… I feel like there’s something following me.”

Maybe it was the lack of sleep and the incident with Kutsuki finally getting to him?

Or perhaps the ever-present worry and fear of running into Yamato now that he was back in Seasoning City was driving Reigen insane.?

How had he been so lucky to not have run into Yamato since the festival?

A part of him wanted to believe that maybe, yes, it was luck, or perhaps Yamato had chosen not to move back in the end.

Dimple nodded slowly, crossing his arms in thought. “Hm… Well, if it was a spirit, then it’s not here anymore.”

“I asked Teru-kun, and he didn’t sense anything either. It’s been like this for the last two weeks.”

A bit after Kutsuki went left unsaid, and maybe that was it?

His nerves were truly shot after Kutsuki, and his mind was going into overdrive. It didn’t help that Reigen had stupidly taken on an overnight case with Mob too. It had been too long, and he could only find relief in the fact the clients had promised them separate rooms, at least.

“Reigen—”

Or possibly, was it that fate and the universe were being merciful to Reigen after deciding he had suffered enough?

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to tell me you’re fine. You can tell me the truth, you know,” Dimple murmured softly.

“I don’t know… This is all just a lot…”

There were so many things he wanted to ask Dimple.

Should he tell Mob?

Did Dimple believe Kutsuki was going to come back?

Was Yamato going to find Reigen once more?

Or how could Reigen get Mob to fall out of love with him?

Even though the thought of that made something heavy settle in his stomach—something poisonous and rotten. Reigen wanted Mob to move on and love someone else. The idea shouldn’t make him want to weep.

Though he didn’t want to ponder on that further, not while his mind drifted back to his nightmare again at the reminder of Mob. Who had held Reigen down and spoke of about that video—

“He took pictures,” Reigen admitted suddenly, voice wobbling and soft. “And… and a video.”

That was clearly the last thing Dimple expected him to say. He stared at Reigen in confusion for a moment, tilting his head before his eyes widened with understanding.

“What?” Dimple hissed, the same rage in his eyes that Reigen had seen in Mob’s when he darted up to hover before him.

“Him… The one who…” he trailed off, clutching his black-and-white striped pajama bottoms. “I don’t know if—if they’re out there somewhere—I can’t get myself to check.”

Because what would Reigen do if he were to stumble upon those pictures or a video online? The thought made him nauseous with fear and desperation.

Would it be better to live in ignorance and wonder for the rest of his days?

“Are you sure he took pictures—or a video?” Dimple asked desperately, as if wishing Reigen would tell him a lie.

Reigen hiccupped softly, rubbing his swollen and teary eyes. “He showed me it—a picture—and… and I don’t know if it’s just one video or—”

“Hey, hey, calm down. Shh, breathe,” Dimple murmured, floating closer to settle on his lap and reaching out to pat Reigen’s hands that had returned to clenching his pyjama bottoms. “Yeah, that’s it. Take a deep breath for me. You’re doing great, Reigen.”

His hands itched to either tear the scar on his neck open or the reach for the cigarette pack. To just breathe in that sweet release, even knowing he would feel worse off after. Mob would find out and even if he said nothing, it would make Reigen feel guilty. Mob cared more for Reigen than he did for himself.

It shouldn’t have made him preen internally to have Mob care for him so, but it did.

“I’m so scared,” Reigen whimpered, curling in on himself slightly.

It was like this nightmare would never end.

Even though he hadn’t seen Yamato since the festival, the idea of the evidence of his trauma being on the internet made him want to curl up into a ball and disappear forever. This nightmare was one he was caught in his waking moments and dreams.

He would never be free, would he?

“We’ll figure this out.”

Reigen couldn’t help but laugh at that, because what could be done about this?

Either there were pictures or videos online of him or there weren’t. But even if there weren’t, they still existed somewhere, and that was traumatic enough for him.

“How?”

“What about that guy from Claw? Shit… what was his name again?” Dimple mumbled, tapping a finger against Reigen’s hands. “The nerd with the glasses… Ah! Hatori!”

He didn’t understand where Dimple was going with this, nor how this would help him. “What’s your point?”

“Technokinesis. That’s his powers, right?” vaguely, Reigen remembered Hatori as the one who had helped Claw take over the news networks. “We can see if he can help!”

“He’d know what happened then.”

It didn’t seem fair for everyone to know about his trauma like this, but life wasn’t fair, Reigen reminded himself.

So, what was the issue with one more person knowing?

Mob didn’t know and was that fair?

Yamato had torn Reigen apart, and had that been fair?

Dimple nodded sadly. “I won’t make you do anything. Just think about it. It’s always an option.”

“I’ll… I’ll think about it.”

That soothed Dimple, even if just a little, as he nodded and sat with Reigen through the rest of the night until he fell asleep once more from sheer exhaustion.

Even so, the time for the overnight case he had taken on so foolishly arrived quickly thereafter, and with it, what Reigen had feared would happen.

He knew Mob wouldn’t judge him for having a nightmare and waking him up the previous night, but Reigen could barely look at him on the drive back to Seasoning City from the ryokan.

They should have never gone on this trip in the first place, because Reigen should have never accepted it.

This was what Dimple had been talking about when he told Reigen to take it easy and to rush his healing journey, wasn’t it? From trying to force himself to give massages again to this now, staying at a ryokan and ending it off with a nightmare.

Maybe it would have been better to accept this might be the new normal for him?

No more massages or things like that, and certainly no more overnight trips.

Or at least sharing a room.

He should have just slept in the rental car instead, Reigen mused, glancing at Mob from the corner of his eye.

Whose muscular arms were crossed over his green hoodie after he had shoved his phone into the pocket of his jeans, as he slouched in the seat next to him and stared out the window with a blank look.

As if Mob would have let him, and the thought of that had him laughing fondly. He imagined Mob would have hunkered down outside the rental car and slept on the ground if he had to. With a quiet sigh, he slanted another look at Mob from the corner of his eye, willing himself to speak through this awkward tension.

Reigen resisted the urge to fidget with the collar of his white turtleneck of wipe his clammy palms on his grey slacks, lest he let go of the wheel and cause an accident.

“Did you want to stop anywhere to grab something to eat? We still have about… two hours to go,” he said with a glance at the car clock, tapping his finger against the steering wheel in thought.

“No, I’m okay.”

“Oh, well… Let me know if you change your mind later.”

Of course, that was what Mob would say.

Mob had been quieter than usual since they had left the ryokan. But it wasn’t just after what happened last night, there was something different about Mob since the incident with Kutsuki.

He was hovering around Reigen more than usual.

Always at his side, eyes following him as if Mob feared that if he were to look away, Reigen would disappear.

This was Reigen’s fault for making Mob worry, wasn’t it?

How was Mob supposed to trust in his words when Reigen continued to show him he was incapable of caring for himself? When he was waking Mob up with his nightmares and sometimes, he wondered what exactly he was doing.

Did Reigen have any plan here or was he just holding onto the hope things would simply tide over?

It was a thought that passes through his mind just as quickly as it came, because what would Mob do or say if he told him about Yamato here and now—if Reigen were to allow that dirty secret he had sealed behind his lips to finally spill free?

You left me, and I was hurt.

Yamato broke me, skinned me to the bones and left me to rot.

Where were you?

He was terrible for even thinking that when none of this was Mob’s fault, Reigen reflected, swallowing the lump in his throat.

Reigen almost wanted to say it was his own fault, but… It wasn’t.

It was Yamato’s fault.

Yamato was the one who was rotten, cruel, and wrong. Reigen was the victim who continued to suffer from the trauma forced on him.

Would Mob be angry at Reigen for letting this happen?

No, he wouldn’t be.

Mob would be heartbroken, angry and infuriated. Reigen would be a fool for thinking otherwise when he could never forget the killing intent filling the office the day Kutsuki had assaulted him. Nor would he ever forget the rage and heartbreak in Mob’s eyes when he found out that Kutsuki was being let off with nothing more than a slap on the wrist.

(His eyes tracked all their expressions. From the resignation on Teru’s face, Dimple’s sadness to Tome and Ritsu’s rage.

Teru crossed his arms over his chest that was clad in a bright orange shirt that somehow didn’t clash with the pink shorts he wore that were tied together with a pair of simple white sneakers.

All while Tome crumpled the hem of her black knit dress, black boots skittering against the office floor at the words he had spoken.

For whatever reason, Ritsu had begun to roll up the sleeves of his black flannel shirt, before shoving his phone in his slacks and tightening the laces of his shoes as if he was preparing himself to run a marathon.

But it was Mob who he couldn’t keep his eyes off.

Who was staring blankly at him, muscles flexing under his white shirt and hands clenching the fabric of his blue jeans while his feet shifted as if he was preparing to stand up to leave.

If it weren’t for the look on Mob’s face—and Reigen knew him like the back of his hand—he would have missed it all.

There was a subtle tick to Mob’s jaw, the twitch of his eyebrow and slightest frown that had disappeared just as fast as it appeared. He almost missed it over indignation from the others, Tome who began to rant, Ritsu’s threats, and Teru’s attempts to soothe everyone’s agitation.

It would have been nice to have Serizawa here, Reigen reflected, glancing around the office.

Serizawa was always a voice of reason alongside Dimple and helped wrangle the others in when Reigen couldn’t. Though, as he eyed their reactions, he realized he didn’t have the energy for this. Not when the words from the officers still rattled around his head.

‘Are you sure you didn’t give him the wrong idea?’

‘Was it just a massage you offered him?’

‘It seems like this might be a misunderstanding, Reigen-san.’

Of course, it would be a simple misunderstanding because Reigen was the hysterical one here, right?

If it weren’t for Dimple’s quiet murmurs dragging him from his spiralling thoughts, Reigen would have dropped and curled into a ball to weep without a care for who was around to see. He glanced in the direction of Dimple’s voice, plucking at the loose threads on the couch, peering over Tome next to him to the pair standing by the closed office door.

“Shige-chan, where do you think you’re going?” Dimple hissed to Mob, barely heard over Ritsu’s and Tome’s threats of tracking Kutsuki down themselves.

“I have something to do,” Mob shrugged his shoulders, only his side profile to be seen.

Dimple sighed softly. “Shige-chan…”

Mob shook his head, jaw clenched with a tremor to his voice. “Dimple, let me do this. It’s not fair!”

“The last thing Reigen needs is for you to go off and play hero!” Dimple snapped, anger leaving him at the look of despair on Mob’s face. “Kid… I get it. I’m just as mad as you are—trust me—I want to end this guy just as much as you do.”

“Then let me do this.”

He shot a look to his side where Teru had grabbed Ritsu’s and Tome’s biceps gently to keep them from following Mob’s lead. Though the trio seemed unaware of what was going on with Mob and Dimple. He glanced back towards Mob and Dimple, unashamed to be listening in when he shouldn’t be.

Reigen couldn’t bring himself to care about much right now.

“No!” Dimple hissed, floating closer to Mob to stand between him and the office door. “You know Reigen wouldn’t want that. You’re better off here—with him. Stay by his side. That’s what he needs from you, okay?”

For a moment he expected Mob to ignore Dimple and leave anyway, but just as suddenly, his shoulders drooped, and he rubbed at his eyes with a quiet hitch of breath.

“…Okay.”

He would have to thank Dimple later for soothing Mob’s anger and keeping him from doing something he would regret later.

Although he wondered if it was something Mob would truly regret, Reigen mused, watching Mob return to his side and take the spot next to him.

Tome had vacated it after she had made a move to dart over the back of the couch to get to the door, only for Teru to wrangle her back in before she got even halfway to the door, leaving Ritsu to slip past Teru, only to be blocked by Dimple.

Mob was a warm, familiar and comforting weight next to him, pressed against his side that Reigen leaned into.

Reigen shouldn’t want this or seek it out, but being around Mob soothed him in ways that nothing else ever could. It was something Reigen should hate himself for and he would later when he could breakdown in the privacy of his home with Dimple watching on.)

If he were to reveal his secret now, could Reigen truly say for certain that Mob would go off and do something he would—or may—regret later?

Even if Mob didn’t regret it, Reigen would, and he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself for having Mob commit acts of violence for him. It was fear that had him swallowing the secret on the tip of his tongue.

Maybe he was right to still be fearful of Mob finding out after what happened with Kutsuki, Reigen pondered, breath hitching while he moved to turn the radio out to drown out his own thoughts.

─────────

His dreams were strangely empty the days after the overnight trip with Mob for reasons Reigen couldn’t explain.

─────────

“You’re gonna scare all the clients away,” he groused, pulling his hand away from the collar of his grey turtleneck.

He let it drop into the lap, where he fiddled with a loose thread on his black slacks, while he glared at Ritsu from his desk the moment the office door clicked shut behind the most recent client who had all but ran out.

Ritsu didn’t deign him with a response, only rolling his eyes as he flipped a page to the book he was reading. Looking dapper in a black button up and black jeans, tied all together with white sneakers.

It was strange for Mob to have Ritsu come in his place when he was scheduled to help Reigen at the office. But Mob had been acting strange since they had returned from that overnight trip a few days ago, hadn’t he?

“I’m being serious.”

“Mhm.”

“Brat.”

“Fraud.”

“You two are so annoying,” Dimple groaned from couch beside Ritsu, blinking drowsily at them. “Can you two not bicker for ten minutes?”

Reigen rolled his eyes with a faux frown. “Tch, who even asked you to come here?”

Dimple laughed, stretching and shooting Reigen a smirk. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t miss me.”

“Ritsu, exorcize him.”

That had Ritsu setting his book down on his lap, making Dimple yelp and dart over to hide behind Reigen’s back.

With a snicker, Reigen pushed his chair back and stood to his feet to make his way to the kitchenette. “Do you want any tea, Ritsu?”

“Sure.”

“Wow, you’re not gonna ask me if I want any?”

“Get it yourself.”

He stuck his tongue out at Dimple, who scrunched his nose in response. “Rude.”

By now Reigen knew how all of them liked their tea, though how could he not when they all were intent on using the office as their second home?

He could still hear bits of Dimple and Ritsu’s conversation through the ajar kitchenette door when he turned the kettle on, waiting for the water to boil as he pulled out two bags of earl grey tea.

“—oji… Man… Nii-san…”

“I don’t… Don’t push…”

This was really a terrible habit, Reigen thought with a grimace.

Eavesdropping wasn’t something he tried to do, and it was something he would scold the others for, but the mention of Mob had him straining his ears and leaning closer to the door.

“It’s either a yes or a no, Dimple,” he heard Ritsu snap, with what must have been an annoyed expression.

Dimple shot back. “I said that I don’t know! I haven’t heard that name before.”

“Tch, some help you are,” Ritsu scoffed meanly.

Ritsu was always so protective when it came to Mob. He wondered what made him so upset this time.

“Who is this guy, anyway?”

“No one.”

“…Okay, spill the beans. You’re acting more suspicious than usual,” Dimple asked after a moment.

“Like you can say that when you were keeping your own secrets.”

Though he was more focused now on trying to figure out what Dimple had done to have Ritsu’s words to be so acidic.

“Who the hell was going to involve some kids in this?” Dimple’s voice took on an annoyed tone that was quickly verging on anger.

Ah… so that was what they were fighting about?

That meant this was Reigen’s cue to rejoin them, wasn’t it?

It was a bit of a relief to know Serizawa would be in for the latter half of the day, relieving Dimple and Ritsu of their Reigen protection duties. He didn’t want to get between whatever this tiff was between Ritsu and Dimple.

Setting the cups of tea on the bamboo tray, he made his way out of the kitchenette, unsurprised to find Ritsu glaring daggers at Dimple. Who stared back in exasperation, shrugging his shoulders when his eyes met Reigen's curious stare.

Well, this wasn’t really a surprise, was it?

Ritsu was holding on to a grudge against Dimple for keeping secrets—pertaining to Reigen—from them all. Tome and Teru weren’t happy with it either, but they kept quiet and seemed to move past it.

Unlike Ritsu, who never failed to bring it up or butt heads with Dimple over the smallest or largest things now.

He almost wanted to call Ritsu out on giving Dimple grief over this when he was keeping secrets from Mob. Though he was sure Ritsu wouldn’t have been happy if Reigen were to throw that in his face.

“Can you two stop arguing about this already?” Reigen snapped when he reached the couches and set the tray down on it to pass Ritsu his tea.

“Sorry,” Dimple mumbled, glancing between Ritsu and Reigen, before leaning back against the couch with a quiet huff.

Ritsu frowned, taking his tea with a quiet thank you and mumbling his own quiet apology. “Sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter who knows or doesn’t,” he grumbled, snatching his own teacup from the tray to sit down on the couch next to Dimple, that was opposite to Ritsu. “I would prefer that no one knew, but… Ah… Please stop fighting about this.”

That had Dimple and Ritsu fidgeting with discomfort, regret and remorse on their faces as they nodded in agreement with Reigen’s words.

“We still have some time before the next client, so why don’t we talk about something else?” a safe topic, which didn’t include Mob, Reigen decided, taking a sip of his tea and sighing. It was a simple earl grey, but it soothed him down to his core. “Ritsu, classes start in a few days. Are you excited?”

Ritsu frowned at him and fiddled with his book in discomfort. “Sure. Nii-san and I are going to get the rest of our school supplies tomorrow.”

“Mhm, sounds like fun.”

“You should join us. I think Nii-san would like that,” Ritsu announced with a smirk, leaning back to take a sip of his tea.

What a brat, Reigen thought with a roll of his eyes.

Shouldn’t Ritsu be the most against Mob’s love for Reigen? Now here he was cracking jokes at Reigen’s expense with a smirk on his face.

“Uhm… How about no?”

Ritsu shrugged his shoulders, laughing lightly. “Hmph, suit yourself.”

He wasn’t sure how to feel when everyone around him was encouraging Mob’s love for him and acting as if Reigen should accept it. Sometimes he wondered if he was the one who was strange for rejecting Mob and trying to set boundaries with him.

His mind was in a disarray by the time Serizawa arrived for the day, allowing Ritsu and Dimple to leave with a promise to see him again soon. With them leaving, he could put the conversation from earlier to the back of his mind and focus on getting through the day.

It was when they were closing for the day that Serizawa glanced up from the files scattered on the desk in front of him and to Reigen with an apology on his lips, dark blue suit slightly wrinkled and askew in his rush to help him clean.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to help out as much, Reigen-san.”

“Serizawa,” Reigen sighed, closing his laptop and tucking his chair under his desk. “Please, don’t apologize. Your mother’s health is more important and comes first. Honestly, I should be thanking you for coming by to help when you can, even though you don’t have to.”

Reigen felt like he was the one who should be apologizing to Serizawa and the others for taking up so much of their time with everything he was. They were too kind, sweet and gentle.

Caring for him when Reigen couldn’t.

Believing in him when he himself wouldn’t.

He would never be able to thank them enough for all they did for him, Reigen reflected, leaning his hip against his desk and smiling at Serizawa.

“I do—I mean—I want to. You’ve helped me a lot after Claw and being flexible with my schedule… I know I take a lot of time off or leave early to care for my mother—and for school—”

Whatever Serizawa had to say was cut off by a knock at the office door, one that had both of them glancing towards it. A quick look at the clock and Reigen knew he had flipped the sign to show that they were now closed.

Another knock and Serizawa was sidling in front of Reigen when they both made their way to the door.

It was a bit funny and touching to see how Serizawa cared for him, Reigen pondered, following Serizawa close enough he could smell his cologne—bergamot, muguet and clove—wafting off him.

“Maybe it’s a late walk-in?” he mused out loud.

Serizawa nodded, waving at Reigen to wait by the couches while he went to answer the door. He opened it slowly, glancing down at whoever was on the other side.

“My apologies, but we’ve closed for the day,” Serizawa said apologetically. “Please come back again tomorrow or another day during our business hours.

“Oh… I was hoping to see Reigen-san,” the voice was familiar, one that had Reigen shuffling closer to the door to peer around Serizawa.

“Takane-chan!” Tsubomi smiled up at him as she stepped past Serizawa when he moved aside to let her in.

“Hello, Reigen-san,” she greeted him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and seating herself on the couch that Reigen guided her to.

“What are you doing here?”

“I did say I would come visit you before I returned home,” Tsubomi reminded him.

She smoothed down the creases in her loose white shirt before letting her hands fall onto her jean-clad lap while she gently scuffed her white sneakers on the floor. Now that he thought about it, Tsubomi did say she would come by. Reigen just hadn’t expected her to really do that, nor did he understand why she would.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

It wasn’t as if they were close or had anything in common other than Mob.

He didn’t want to think about the fact that they had more in common than just their friendship with Mob. They were only two people on this earth who had held Mob’s heart in their hands.

Tsubomi in the past and Reigen in the present.

“I wanted to.”

The desire to ask why was strong, though he swallowed it down and ignored the smile on her face as if she was reading his mind. It was a bit discomforting. He grimaced internally and looked away from Tsubomi to Serizawa, who puttered around the office.

“Serizawa, you can head out. I’ll be fine.”

Serizawa didn’t look appeased with his words with how he fidgeted with his hands in anxiety, glancing from Reigen and out the window as if expecting him to get snatched up the moment he took a step aside.

“I’ll make sure he gets home safely,” Tsubomi added in helpfully.

How embarrassing, Reigen bemoaned inside his mind, wanting to drop his face into his hands to hide the blush on his face.

What kind of impression had he left Tsubomi with for her to think he needed to be walked home?

“Ah… You don’t need to walk me home.”

Tsubomi shrugged her shoulders, unbothered. “Mhm, but I would like to. If that’s alright?”

He didn’t have the energy for this and there was a part of him, one Reigen shoved back down, that was relieved to have someone with him on the walk home.

Coward. That was what he was.

“…If you want. You’ll have to wait while I finish closing up.”

With that, Serizawa went home while Reigen quickly cleaned the office up and locked it up for the day. It was a nice summer day that started with rain and ended with clear skies and a gentle breeze. But the sun was slowly setting now, and that always made his hair stand on end.

He didn’t really regret having Tsubomi walk him home later when that strange feeling came back that had him glancing around the street. His searching stare bounced off the surrounding pedestrians, trying to find what was causing his stomach to churn in apprehension.

Why did he feel like a rabbit trapped in a snare waiting for the hunter to tear through the bushes and snatch him up—to skin him alive and leave him stripped, his shame laid bare to the world?

“Is something wrong?” Tsubomi asked at his side, staring up at him with large and curious eyes.

It felt like she could see the rot and discomfort lurking beneath his skin.

“Ah, yeah. Sorry, it’s nothing.”

She looked like she wanted to say more while she peered around before they both refocused on the route to Reigen’s apartment. The walk was mostly silent, with comments here and there, but it was comfortable, nonetheless.

Though it was later, when they were at his doorstep, that Tsubomi finally brought up what had been on her mind this entire time. The true reason for her visit that he wasn’t surprised about at all.

“You should be more honest with Mob-kun," Tsubomi said after a moment.

Of course, it always came back to Mob, Reigen mused despairingly.

“Mhm? I am honest with him,” he shot back, opening his apartment door and looking at anything but Tsubomi.

He should ask her if she wanted tea or anything else, but the last thing Reigen needed was to invite a teenage girl into his apartment. She didn’t appear to take an offence to that, lips crooking in tune to her raised eyebrow.

“I know… I just think he would surprise you.”

All Mob ever did was surprise Reigen.

At first with his powers, then his resolve and kindness, to the now, with his love and devotion. It made Reigen sick and happy at the same time, but sometimes he couldn’t say what he felt.

It was as if his heart and mind were at odds with each other.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Takane-chan,” Reigen replied with a quiet sigh while she nodded, pulling her phone out of the pocket of her jeans to glance through it. “Will you be okay getting home by yourself?”

“Yes. I’m actually meeting Mob-kun tonight before I return home.”

The thought of Mob and Tsubomi together shouldn’t make his mind stutter for a second before he shook his head. They would make a lovely couple, Reigen told himself, fidgeting with his keys while trying to ignore the strange feeling settling beneath his skin.

“Oh, that sounds like fun.”

Maybe it was just Reigen's fear of abandonment that made him feel this way?

He was worried Mob wouldn't have time for him anymore if he had Tsubomi at his side. That had to be it. Tsubomi tilted her head to the side with a thoughtful look on her face while she peered up at him with those dark eyes.

It made him shift in uneasiness.

What had she seen that made her smile so softly at him?

“Did you want to join us?” Tsubomi asked, leaning in a bit closer with a small smile—filling the air with the sweet, earthy and herbal scent Reigen associated with her.

That was the last thing Reigen wanted to do and nor did he want to be a third wheel. It would be better for Mob to spend time with Tsubomi and who was to say that he wouldn’t fall for Tsubomi again?

After all, Tsubomi was smart, confident, kind and beautiful.

All the things that Reigen wasn’t—the things he was incapable of being.

Nothing more than a pretty face.

Used, rotten, and disgusting.

Mob deserved so much better than Reigen. The stars, sun and moon, everything and anything.

“No, it’s alright,” he whispered, swallowing past the lump in his throat and pretending he didn’t see the disappointment flicker over Tsubomi’s face. “Well… It was great seeing you again, Takane-chan. Come by next time you’re back.”

“Of course. I’ll tell Mob-kun you said hi. Goodbye, Reigen-san.”

With that, Tsubomi left just as suddenly as she had arrived with Reigen watching hair dark hair gleam under the hallway light until she disappeared down the stairwell. She was gone as quickly as she appeared and left as much of a mark as she had the last time he saw her.

─────────

“Won’t you tell me who did this to you, Shishou?” Mob whispered against his neck, lips searing against that scar while he held Reigen down against his desk.

The collar of his white turtleneck had been shoved down, while Mob’s jean clad leg was pressed between Reigen’s legs—thankfully still covered by his grey slacks—even while he sobbed desperately.

It was all Reigen could do to keep himself from striking out at Mob.

He would never forgive himself for hurting Mob, but… this wasn’t his Mob, was it?

This was someone terrifying, whose touched only brought him pain, rather than salvation, warmth and protection.

“M-Mob, please!”

Reigen wasn’t even sure what he was begging for, whether it was for Mob to stop asking him about Yamato or for him to just please stop touching him. They were both horrifying options that had him weeping loudly, his own desperate pleas trapped in his throat.

Please don’t love me, don’t ruin your life for someone like me, Reigen wanted to plead.

“I’m sorry. Please don’t cry anymore, Shishou,” how could Mob ask him not to weep when he was hurting him? “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Then why are you hurting me, Reigen wished to ask, but all he could do was sob and claw at Mob’s chest, trying and failing to push him away.

Fighting with his own desire to pull Mob closer—to cling to the soft fabric of his black hoodie while pleading with him to stay—to bask in his safety despite the fear and hurt in his heart.

Please don’t leave me, he almost said, struggling to keep himself from holding Mob closer to keep him from drifting away.

Mob’s lips trailed up his throat, nipping at his jaw before swallowing the sobs that fell from Reigen’s lips. It felt like he was dying or close to it with how his heart was breaking beneath his ribs with every hungry touch from Mob.

Who pulled away to peer down at Reigen, face covered in blood that clearly wasn’t Mob’s. He shuddered at the sight of red coating his most precious person’s face, clinging to his lashes and dripping down to Mob’s lips that curled into a gentle smile.

“Tell me how to fix this. Tell me how I can help you,” Mob whispered tenderly.

He couldn’t bear to imagine what Mob had done.

Whatever it was had to be Reigen’s fault.

It always was, wasn’t it?

Reigen, who was a coward and shameless, because instead of telling Mob to stop or leave, he did the opposite.

“D-don’t leave me, please,” he begged through tears, clinging to Mob after asking him to give up on his chance at true love and waste his life on Reigen. To ask the esper to give up his chance at true love to waste it on Reigen? “I’m s-sorry. Mob, I’m sorry. I love—”

─────────

Maybe it had been a bad idea to take a midday Saturday nap, Reigen reflected, splashing water on his face, uncaring of the water soaking into the collar of his loose and grey turtleneck tucked into his black sweats.

He made the mistake of glancing at his pallid reflection in his bathroom mirror.

Reigen painted a poor picture of good health with the dark shadows under his swollen and red eyes. One look at Reigen and the others would wrap him up in a blanket.

Perhaps it would be better to call Mob and have him summon Dimple, Reigen pondered with a sigh.

But wasn’t it bad enough that had monopolized so much of Dimple’s time already?

Plus, Mob was supposed out getting supplies for school today and if Reigen were to call to ask for Dimple, then he would make Mob needlessly worry. This was just another nightmare, one of many that Reigen should be used to.

There was no need to have Dimple abandon his plans with Tome to go alien hunting to spend it with him.

After all, this was just another weekend ruined by his memories and nightmares, he reminded himself, hands trembling at his side when he stepped out of the bathroom. He blinked at the sunlight peaking through the gap in his curtains.

He was too anxious to return to bed or want to do anything now.

But maybe it was better that he found something else to do?

Anything other than what he was doing right now, stumbling over to his nightstand to stare at the unopened pack of cigarettes next to his phone that he needed to charge. Who knew how many texts and calls he would find on it once he turned it back on?

Though that was a distant thought when he was focused on tearing the cigarette pack open and sliding a cigarette between his lips with a shaking hand. His dream had him shaken to the core.

Just having the familiar weight of a cigarette between his lips soothed him, even if just a little.

But distantly, Reigen wondered what Dimple would say when he came by tonight and found the pack had been opened.

Would Dimple believe him if he said he hadn’t lit it?

Probably not, Reigen decided after a moment, glancing at the pamphlets Tome had given him that laid next to the pack he dropped back on his nightstand. He wasn’t sure what made him bring them home that day when he should have just shoved them to rot in his desk in the same drawer that the other pamphlets were hidden within.

He didn’t plan to light it, was what he told himself while he opened the drawer to his nightstand and pulled out an old lighter. The lighter was a plain blue with some anime character on it, half-full and light in his hand that trembled while he made no move to do anything else for a moment.

Though the knock at the front door took his attention away from the task at hand, making him still and wait to see if whoever it was went away.

But another knock came.

Once, twice, and then three times.

Reigen still refused to move, hoping that the person would leave if they thought no one was home.

But they didn’t leave, did they?

They started pounding their fist against the front door, that rattled loudly with every heavy thump against it, making Reigen stumble to his feet and to the entrance to the hallway that led to the front door.

Who could it have been?

His teeth clenched around the cigarette in his mouth while he stared at the door with wide eyes and fear clutching at his heart. The knocking didn’t stop, no matter how many minutes went by.

Reigen’s hope that the person beyond his front door would leave was quickly dwindling with every shudder from the door. His body was moving on autopilot and drifting closer to it.

Could it be Kutsuki who had come to finish the job and get revenge against Reigen?

Or maybe Yamato was finally darkening his doorstep once more, like Reigen had always feared?

This was what he had been waiting for in terror since the day Yamato had turned his office into his coffin and graveyard.

A trembling hand pulled the cigarette from his mouth that he discarded swiftly in the trash bin inside the kitchen on the way to the front door. It gave him a moment to take a quick breath before he returned to the task at hand.

Nearing the front door, he leaned a hand against it to look through the peephole while musing he should go back to grab his bat from next to his nightstand.

Though there wouldn’t be any need for it, would there?

A glance through the peephole and Reigen was scrambling for the doorknob seconds later. The door swung open, barely saved from crashing into the wall inside his hallway, when he halted it with a shaky hand, eyes locked onto the person at his doorstep.

“Mob?” Reigen said in confusion. Mob looked like he had run here, chest heaving, face flushed, hair ruffled, and black t-shirt and sweats askew with that key on a silver chain swaying. “I wasn’t expecting you. Aren’t you supposed to be getting school supplies?”

But for whatever reason, Mob didn’t speak, even while his dark eyes darted over Reigen’s face before his face crumpled in despair and anguish.

He couldn’t understand what had happened for Mob to look so upset.

No, not just upset.

Heartbroken, shattered and as if his world had ended. Who or what had put that look on Mob’s face?

Chapter Text

“Mob, what are you doing here?” he asked again, a touch confused at Mob’s silence.

His anxiety increased with his worry at the lack of response from Mob, making his hands twitch at his side with the desire to pull Mob to his chest in an attempt to soothe his pain.

The need to help Mob in what way he could was becoming overwhelming, even while Reigen told himself that he needed to try to maintain some boundaries.

But Reigen was always weak when it came to Mob, wasn’t he?

He couldn’t keep himself from indulging Mob, not when he looked utterly devastated, heartbroken and horrified all that once.

Even so, he could see the tinge of anger in those dark eyes.

Reigen started up at Mob, worrying his lip. “What’s wrong?”

Mob’s lips wobbled, a quiet hitch of breath before a lone tear slipped from his eye.

It would be later that Reigen would realize that he was partially indulging himself and trying to ease his own anxiety when he opened his arms wide to let Mob throw himself within them. He couldn’t understand what had happened to make Mob show up at his doorstep in such a state.

The tears dampening his turtleneck over the crook of his neck made his own eyes sting.

“…Mob?”

There was no response from Mob other than him wrapping his arms around Reigen’s waist to pull him against his hard chest further. The smell of lemon, jasmine and sandalwood invaded his senses that he recognized at the scent he always associated with Mob.

A part of him wanted to hold on to Mob harder to soak in his warmth, scent and comfort, but Reigen knew he needed to comfort Mob and find out what had happened.

Thought when he tried to pull back to wipe Mob’s tears away—to do anything to ease his hurt—and tell him Reigen was here, he couldn’t free himself from Mob’s iron hold. He was latched around Reigen like an octopus, clinging to him and sobbing.

Reigen internally commended himself for not spiralling into a panic attack at being held like this.

After all, there was no need to fear Mob’s touch.

Who continued to weep silently, making Reigen bite his lip and rub at his back gently, mind racing to figure out what to say or do.

“Hey, you need to tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.”

Mob shuddered, gasping and still not pulling away. “Shishou, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

The last he knew was that Mob had told him he would be going to school supplies today with Ritsu and their mother. There was nothing he could think of that could have led to Mob showing up at his apartment and falling apart in his arms as if his world had burned up in flames.

Had Mob had another mishap with his powers, or perhaps something happened at home?

“What happened?” Reigen inquired, voice soft and just above a whisper.

Only for Mob to fail to give him a response once more.

Something—or someone—had hurt or upset Mob, his mind supplied.

But where was the proof that such a thing happened?

No matter how his mind scrambled to try to find a way to help Mob, he came up empty-handed.

To be the lifeline for Mob that the esper always was for Reigen.

Biting back tears, he tried to lean back to glance up at Mob. “You need to tell me what’s wrong, otherwise I won’t know how to help you.”

Finally, muscular arms loosened around his waist just enough for him to lean back to try to look at Mob. Though Mob still tried to hide his face in the crook of Reigen’s neck, forcing him to pull his arms from around Mob to cradle his face and gently coax him back.

He was finally able to get a good look at Mob, whose face was gently held in his hands, and the state of him broke Reigen’s heart to pieces.

The absolute devastation in those dark eyes made the raw wound in Reigen’s heart ache.

Mob shouldn’t look like that, not while Reigen still lived and breathed.

“Oh… What happened? You can tell me. I won’t judge you for it—whatever it is,” he whispered, rubbing his thumbs against Mob’s tearstained cheeks.

Even now, Mob still remained silent while he continued to weep and stare at Reigen with teary, red and swollen eyes.

How long had Mob been in this state?

Had he been crying for hours?

What the hell happened?

All he could do was coax Mob inside his apartment, shutting the door and locking it behind them while he guided them down the hall towards the couch.

The last time Reigen had seen Mob break down like this was after Tsubomi rejected him and he saw what he had done to the city.

Though that didn’t compare to Mob’s wails and pleas for forgiveness when Reigen awoke in the hospital after collapsing.

It was a bit hard to manoeuvre both of them onto the couch, but he was finally able to get them on it with a quiet grunt, arms wrapping around Mob’s shoulder when he still clung to him, face hidden in the crook of Reigen’s neck again.

Reigen bit his lip, staring down at Mob’s dishevelled hair. “Did something happen at home with your family—or did something happen with your friends?”

What he really wanted to ask was who hurt Mob, because he wanted to know who to direct his fury at.

His eyes roved over Mob, who shuddered and clenched the back of Reigen’s grey turtleneck desperately. There was no injury he could find, though he couldn’t rule out a wound hidden beneath Mob’s clothing.

After all, Reigen knew all about that, didn’t he?

With a sigh, he started to rake a hand through Mob’s hair, gently prodding for any bumps or a head injury.

Usually Mob would preen at this, but he only pulled away to stare at Reigen in sorrow.

Mob kept staring at him without saying a word, even while the minutes passed and Reigen shifted with the beginnings of discomfort.

“…You’re freaking me out. Seriously, what’s wrong?

Finally, Mob pulled away and out of his arms to pull something from his pocket. Reigen glanced down—pausing briefly on the key hung around a chain on Mob’s neck—to the papers clutched in a white-knuckled grasp and then back to Mob’s face.

Whose face crumpled in regret, just as Reigen peered down at the papers again when his mind finally caught up to what they were.

Yellow, aged and wrinkled, and if one were to look closely, there would be tearstains.

They were pamphlets.

Reigen’s pamphlets.

His dirty little secret tucked away in a grove; to be hidden from the eyes of others and yet they were in Mob’s hand. Rather than where they should be in the bottom left drawer of his desk at the office.

There was no reason for Mob to have them, even though Reigen knew he was deluding himself into believing this was nothing but a mistake or misunderstanding.

“Why do you have those?” Reigen rasped, reaching over with a shaky hand to snatch the pamphlets from Mob’s hand. “Why do you have these?”

Why was this happening to him?

The anger unfurling within him made him want to snap at Mob, to demand why he had the pamphlets while asking him, how dare he?

Maybe Reigen should pretend this wasn’t happening?

When he went to speak again—unsure if he would weep or rage—Mob beat him to the punch with a breathless cry, tears falling from his eyes, down the curve of his cheeks and onto his hands clenched in his lap.

“I’m sorry,” Mob sobbed.

There were so many things he could do, from lashing out at Mob for stealing and lying, to forcing him out of his apartment and slamming the door in his anguished face. Then Reigen could run back to bed to hide under his blankets like he once had as a child, keeping his hands and feet beneath the blanket lest the monster under the bed snatch him.

But Mob wasn’t a monster.

Nor was there any doubt about what Mob was apologizing for.

It wasn’t about the pamphlets at all. They were just the crumbs that had led Mob to Reigen’s deepest secret. That Mob would consider his own greatest failure, the one that would keep him up at night for the rest of his days.

“Reigen-Shishou, I’m sorry.”

“Oh.”

Was all he could say breathlessly, mind stuttering to a halt while he stared at Mob dumbly and into those dark eyes filled with tears. All before his mind caught up to everything just as quickly and decided on trying to get Reigen out of this situation as unscathed as possible.

Divert, avoid and sweet talk was what he would do with the slimmest hope that it would work.

With a tut that sounded too brittle to his ears, Reigen frowned at Mob. “Those are for clients! I told you that already, didn’t I? What are you doing taking things without asking? I’m disappointed in you. Stealing? Really?”

Though he didn’t really get much of a choice in how to go about this when it felt as if his body and mind were moving on autopilot, with Reigen watching on from the outside.

Mob hiccupped and rubbed his eyes. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have taken them, but what else could I do?”

“Not take things that don't belong to you!” Reigen snapped, surprising himself and Mob. Who flinched back, making Reigen sag and pinch the bridge of his nose while resisting the urge to throw the pamphlets to the side. “Ha… I’ll forgive you for stealing this one time if that’s what has you upset. Just don’t do it again, okay?”

“You know that’s not what this is about,” Mob mumbled, hands dropping back into his lap.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Please,” Mob gasped, hands cutting the space between them to cradle Reigen’s face as he slowly leaned in—giving Reigen all the time in the world to pull away—to press his forehead to his. Eyes clenched shut with tears dropping onto Reigen’s shaking hand, Mob wept. “Please… please don’t push me away anymore. It’s killing me and I don’t know what to do. Let me help you—let me be there for you the same way you are for me.”

“Mob—”

“Shishou, please… Trust in me.”

How could Reigen say no to that when Mob asked so sweetly and cried for him?

In what reality could he even considered turning away to leaf Mob adrift at sea alone?

“I’m sorry,” was what he found falling from his lips.

There were so many things he was apologetic for.

For not being a better shishou—a good person—to not being able to protect Mob, no keep him from finding out about his trauma.

Had Reigen just given Mob a wound on his soul to match his own?

His most precious person was breaking in front of him, and he could do nothing to help. Mob was crying in earnest, shaking and cupping Reigen’s face tenderly.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Mob leaned back with a shake of his head, reaching down to try to take Reigen’s trembling hand that clutched the pamphlets in his own. Only to stop and pull his hand back again, as if he feared his touch would hurt Reigen. “W-what happened to you… it was—”

“Why do this all for me?”

It was a stupid thing for him to even ask when Mob had watered and nurtured this love he had for Reigen—a garden of sunflowers and roses—with his devoted and caring hands.

Mob looked at him in confusion. “Because I love you. You’re my Shishou and I care about you—we all do.”

Even now he could hear the truth in Mob’s words—his real confession and feelings—that Mob wanted to say, ‘I’m in love you.’

“What if I deserved it?”

It would kill a part of him that Yamato could never snuff out if Mob were to look at him with disgust or say Reigen deserved it.

Though he knew it was an illogical fear, because Mob—kind and sweet—would never believe that.

Mob balked at his question, staring at him with growing horror. “How can you say that?”

“What if I did deserve it? I trick and con so many people, it’s the least I deserve.

A large hand returned to cradle his face again with Reigen’s breath catching in his throat at the shattered look Mob gave him, as if he was pleading with him to now break his heart with his beliefs about himself.

Brushing a thumb against his cheek, Mob brushed his tears away.

When had Reigen started crying?

“Please don’t say that, Shishou. It’s not your fault. No one deserves that. It could never—would never—be your fault. Ever. You got hurt—someone hurt you—and I wasn’t there.”

The cold hand that had been wrapped around his heart for so long eased when Mob chased away all of Reigen’s fears.

Mob wasn’t disgusted with him, Reigen mused distantly, sniffling softly just as his brain finally caught up to what Mob had said at the end.

There was no way Reigen could tell Mob he had been raped when they had been apart.

One part of him felt disappointed, while another felt elated, because Mob wasn’t disgusted with him. That the Mob didn’t blame Reigen, even if a part of him wished Mob did.

With a cough, he gently pulled his hands back, letting Mob’s drop into his own lap while he stared at Reigen as if he would find the real answer on his face.

“It happened a long time ago—before we met—and I’ve had those pamphlets forever.”

Even though he said that, a bitter and broken part of Reigen was still unable to stop itself from trying to place some blame on Mob’s shoulders.

How pathetic was he to be blame Mob—a child—for his own failures?

No, it wasn’t Reigen’s wasn’t fault at all, was it? He couldn’t keep blaming himself for Yamato’s action, who carried all the blame and fault.

“Please don’t lie to me,” Mob pleaded, smile brittle when Reigen met his gaze. “Just be honest with me… Please?”

With a wet sigh, he glanced away and off to the side, staring at the fox plushie on his nightstand. “You’re a child. You have to understand that this conversation is inappropriate.”

“Tome-san and the others are children as well,” Mob whispered, making Reigen’s eyes dart back to him. There was no refutation on his lips, because Mob wasn’t wrong. With wobbly of his lips, eyes clenching shut in hurt for a moment with tears clinging to the lashes, Mob gave him a look of utter hurt. “I won’t force you to tell me, but… Have I done something to make you all not trust me?”

The resignation in Mob’s voice and pain in his eyes made all the fight leave Reigen.

Wasn’t he the one who had told Mob to just talk to him all that time ago and could Reigen really be surprised that Mob found find out on his own when he knew something was wrong?

As if Reigen wouldn’t have done the same if he was in Mob’s shoes.

“…No. You haven’t. I… I am trying to be more honest with everyone about what I need and… when I need help. There’s nothing you’ve done wrong. I’m the one who’s sorry—”

They were all treating Mob like a ticking time bomb and monster.

As if it was Mob who Reigen was afraid of.

In his attempt to keep Mob safe—to keep Reigen’s nightmares from becoming reality—he had only hurt Mob in ways he could never have imagined.

“Don’t apologize,” Mob cut him off with a tired smile, raking a hand through his hair while he glanced around the room and looked at anything but Reigen. “You did nothing wrong and don’t me—or anyone—this. I had no right to overstep or sneak around, but… I… I knew something was wrong—that everyone was keeping from me—and I couldn’t stop myself. I was worried about you and… and I don’t want to that…”

Mob’s face twisted as if he couldn’t say what had happened to Reigen.

“That I was raped?” Reigen finished for Mob. It felt as awful as it was relieving to finally speak those words.

Mob flinched as if slapped before he nodded shakily, Adam’s apple bobbing while sniffling and wiping at the fresh tears on his face.

“It happened and I’m over it—” he continued, quickly correcting himself because they both knew this wasn’t something Reigen would just get over. “Ah, well… Not over. But... I’m doing better—or trying to do better.

“Shishou—”

Shaking his head, Reigen laid his hands over Mob’s, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. It grounded Reigen just as much as it did Mob it seemed with how his shoulders drooped.

“I’m safe, okay? You all are like a bad rash and don’t seem to have any plans to leave me alone anytime soon,” he should have kept his mouth shut, Reigen would tell himself seconds later when Mob’s face twisted from concern, horror, realization and to anger. “No one is going to get me at the office again with you all around.”

“It happened at the office?” Mob echoed, face carefully falling blank. “It was a client, wasn’t it?”

It terrified him that he couldn’t read Mob for once.

Despite knowing Mob wouldn’t push and would let Reigen decide for himself what he wanted to share—whether he truly trust Mob—he was tired of all the lies and fear that had made themselves at home in his body.

“It was,” he confirmed after a moment, carefully watching Mob’s face for his reaction.

Would Reigen’s nightmares come to life?

Was Mob going to rage and spit threats, hungering to see Yamato’s blood on his hands?

From the corner of his eye, he glanced at the cigarette pack trembling just the slightest next to his alarm clock on his nightstand. His that Mob followed to lock onto the cigarette pack, and if he had anything to say to Reigen about the cigarettes, he remained silent while he took a deep breath.

The room was still once more.

Mob said nothing for a few minutes, peering down to stare at Reigen’s hands hold his own. With a quiet sigh, Mob held his hands back as if they were the most fragile thing in the world—like Reigen was a delicate thing meant to be loved and protected.

“Will you tell me who?” Mob finally asked, words almost too quiet to be heard. “The one who did this to you… Was it that man at—”

“You don’t know him. He’s not in Seasoning City anymore.”

He should be sickened at how easily the lie left him.

But it didn’t.

Not when this was about protecting Mob.

“Why won’t you tell me who it was—the one who hurt you?”

That was the question everyone wanted the answer to, Reigen reflection, jaw clenching in annoyance and apprehension.

The last thing he wanted was for everyone to find out it was Yamato, not when Reigen wasn’t foolish enough to believe that Mob—or the others—would remain calm and nonviolent if they found out.

He didn’t want to imagine what they would do if they found out about the blackmail.

Mob would hunt Yamato down to the ends of the Earth and tear him apart, wouldn’t he?

“That’s not something that I want—or can—talk about right now.”

This was a familiar top that led Ritsu to huffing in anger, Teru staring at him sadly, while Tome fought against her sorrowful rage.

Only Dimple and Serizawa took his silence with resigned acceptance.

But Mob always went against expectations, didn’t he?

Nodding slowly and keep his face blank, Mob’s stare drifted off to the side for a second before returning to look into Reigen’s glassy eyes.

“Okay,” Mob whispered, with no fight in his tone.

With a grimace, he peered down at their hands, taking in how Mob’s—large and yet so gentle—eclipsed his own.

Time was passing by so quickly, wasn’t it?

“You know you can tell me what you really want to say,” he mumbled.

Mob’s easy acceptance had something itching in the back of his mind. While Reigen trusted Mob with his life, he wouldn’t have been able to stay calm if the roles had been reversed.

When Mob leaned down to press his forehead to the top of Reigen’s hands, a memory from what felt like eons ago passed through his mind.

(They were both silent while they watched Mob trace the delicate veins on Reigen’s hands, before Mob leaned down to press his forehead to the hands he cradled within his own.

“I’m sorry,” Mob breathed out, his forehead warm and hair tickling Reigen's hands. “I’ll do better. I promise.”)

“I don’t want to scare you, or for you to… hate me,” Mob whispered, tear drops tickling the top of Reigen’s hands.

“I could never hate you—ever—and you know you could never scare me,” he rasped in despair, stare locking onto eyes flickering red when Mob leaned back up.

Reigen wasn’t scared of Mob.

He was terrified of ruining Mob’s future and failing him more than anything.

“I want to hurt him—the man who did this to you—the reason you hurt everyday. I can’t do anything to stop your pain and… and… I want to kill him,” Mob admitted with shame and anger on his face.

It was terrifying to hear those words from Mob. They reminded Reigen of all his nightmares and his fears about what would happen if Mob were to find out.

Though they needed to have this conversation, didn’t they?

Even if Yamato had ruined Reigen, that didn’t mean Mob had to suffer and become a killer.

Reigen’s duty was to give Mob guidance, wasn’t it?

“You wouldn’t. Promise me you won’t.”

Despite wanting to crumple into a ball and sob, he couldn’t fail now. Not when Reigen’s nightmare was close to becoming reality if he didn’t do something to soothe Mob and keep him from making a mistake.

Mob almost looked like he would argue, but he nodded with a soft sigh.

“I… I promise.”

While they were both pretending Mob hadn’t intended to harm Kutsuki that day at the office, Reigen grasped onto the hope Mob would keep his promise.

He always did when it came to Reigen, didn’t he?

But that was something he couldn’t be certain about if Mob found out about the blackmail Yamato threatened to spread online or elsewhere.

His thoughts stuttered when Mob turned Reigen’s hands within his own to have his palms facing up. Mob traced the lines on his palm gently and methodically while they both watched on.

Was this the time for him to pull his hand back and send Mob hope while pretending none of this ever happened?

Mob sniffled before speaking. “I’m always here for you if you ever need anything—or, uhm—need someone to talk to.”

How sad was it that Mob didn’t appear to expect Reigen to take him up on that offer?

Though he could only blame himself for that, Reigen told himself, smile gently and looking up at Mob’s face, still covered in tears, again.

They had cried enough tears between the two of them today, hadn’t they?

“I… I’m so tired,” Reigen admitted, knowing he would regret revealing this later. But it felt as if he had finally freed himself from the ball-and-chain that had him dragging him into the depths. “Sometimes I wish I had never walked out of the office that day—that it had ended there.”

It hurt to see the pain his admission put Mob through, who nodded and pressed his lips into a thin line while starting to rub soothing circles with his thumb against Reigen’s hands again.

“I’m not going to lie to you. It’s been hard—really hard—to make myself keep going. To even want to keep going… But you—and the others—have helped me so much... But… I do get upset sometimes because I feel like no one is listening to me. All I want is for everyone to just listen to me.”

Even though the main priority was to protect Mob, Reigen was so tired of everyone making decisions for him and treating him like some fragile teacup—pretty and delicate—that needed to be protected.

How unfortunate was it that Mob was going to get the brunt of his rant?

Mob blinked at him wide-eyed as Reigen, unable to stop himself now that everything had come to head, spoke of things he had never even told Dimple.

“I’m sick of everyone taking my choices from me! I’m always so scared and… and that’s not fair.”

He knew he shouldn’t speak about his fears and true feelings with Mob.