Chapter Text
“And you know,” Reigen is saying, “we’re going to have to repair this city.”
He sees the blood drain from Shigeo Kageyama’s face.
“But don’t you worry,” he hurriedly continues. “I’m sure everyone will help out.” Reigen feels like he’s running on a tightrope—if he stops, he’ll lose his balance. So he keeps going, all the while noticing Mob’s stuttering steps, and the way his eyes are trained on the broken ground before them. Reigen ignores the sharp pain in his injured feet with each step.
“I’ll call Serizawa too.” A beat. “Hey, Serizawa? Yeah, I’m totally fine, no worries. More importantly, could you come over here?” Reigen sneaks another glance at Mob whose tears are drying on his cheeks. A dazed look frosts his eyes. “Yeah, on the path to the park.” The path meaning the ruinous trail Mob created.
They hang up and Reigen turns his attention back to Mob who’s gone silent the past couple minutes. Sirens and helicopters can be heard, and Reigen can only imagine the thoughts going on in that boy’s head. On his other side, Dimple follows as a pale green blob. Reigen turns to him and whispers low enough that Mob can’t catch it.
“Hey, Dimple, why don’t you scope the area. See if you can find Mob’s family or other espers.” Alive and safe, preferably.
Dimple grumbles. “Oh, sure. I come back to life and you just order me around like no time has passed. No, ‘Hey, Dimple! I missed you! I’m so glad you’re alive!’ or whatever…” His voice fades as he leaves.
Reigen slings an arm around his apprentice’s shoulder (he doesn’t want to think about him being anything else). “Man, I’m starving. What do you say we get some takoyaki tonight, hm? I feel like we’ve had nothing but ramen the past few—”
“Shishou.”
Mob stops walking, and Reigen follows in suit, stumbling to a stop. He clenches his jaw to hide the wince. Is Mob going to address Reigen’s confession now? Even though he had the fears for years concerning Mob finally confronting him about his lies, he realizes for the first time that he isn’t afraid. Well, maybe he’s a little nervous. But no matter Mob’s decision, it will be okay.
But Mob begins again with, “Shishou…” and Reigen smiles softly at the setting sun. “I feel…light.”
“Heh,” Reigen swallows a laugh and reaches out to put his arm back around his shoulder. “Me too, Mob. I—”
Mob’s shoulder disappears. Fortunately for him, Reigen has a special move called Second Wind, and, despite his exhaustion, he snatches the boy out of the air as he drops lifelessly, taking Reigen with him.
They both hit the dirt unceremoniously, Reigen’s butt taking the brunt of it as he pulls an unconscious Mob into his arms. The toll of too much psychic power, experience provides his mind with. That Mob’s weight of all people is enough to take someone like Reigen down only proves that both of them have reached their limit, and Reigen doesn’t think he can even stand now. Let alone with the dead weight of a teenager in his arms. He lets his head drop to get a look at Mob.
“Oi, Mob?” Reigen’s voice breaks as he pulls Mob closer. The kid’s head lolls to the inside of his elbow with the movement. Dried tears still streak his face; dirt smudges his cheeks and his hair is unkempt. Reigen mentally kicks himself. Sure, he doesn’t understand all the psychic stuff at times, but this is Mob. How did he not know what was going on with Mob? Why did things have to get this far?
Reigen pats some of the dust off his apprentice’s gakuran. “It’s okay, Mob,” he says. His voice trembles, but he summons up the energy that he can to fake some confidence. “You did good today. Take a rest.” Things shouldn’t have gotten to this point. Mob shouldn’t have had to deal with this all alone. He shouldn’t…
He shouldn’t be crying. He—himself. Reigen presses his left hand that isn’t supporting Mob’s head into his own eyes, as if that will push the tears back in. Despite the movement, Mob doesn’t so much as twitch.
So he hugs Mob closer to him and lets the tears fall.
And that’s how Serizawa finds them.
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“Reigen, when you told me you were fine, this isn’t what I pictured.”
“Ow!”
“Sorry.”
It doesn’t take long to make it back to Spirit’s and Such. Serizawa was considerate enough to not question the tears on his boss’s face and wise enough to carry Mob back despite Reigen’s protestations. Even so, Reigen’s feet and…well everywhere, are a mess.
“Do you think he’s okay?” Reigen keeps looking over to Mob who lies flat on the couch. He hasn’t moved once, and Reigen frequently glances over to make sure he is at least still breathing. His face is pale. Well, paler.
Serizawa sighs, his eyes trained on Reigen’s feet which are propped up on the coffee table over a bunch of old towels. Scratch that— his eyes would be trained if they didn’t keep blinking and fluttering about. Serizawa dabs the sweat on his head with one of the towels (which were supposed to be for the blood and rocks and glass in Reigen’s feet) before setting down the tweezers.
He reaches for the disinfectant before finally answering. “If I’ve learned anything from what you’ve told me, it’s that Kageyama is doing better now than maybe he ever has.” Serizawa pauses, his hand on the lid of the bottle. He looks up at Reigen. “I think you are too.”
The sentiment startles Reigen enough that he doesn’t react immediately. Before he can, Serizawa pours the disinfectant over his feet and Reigen yelps.
“I need to walk on those again one day, you know!”
“Then why did you take your shoes off?” Serizawa shoots back.
Reigen is once more stunned into silence, but it isn’t the good kind. His face burns, and he turns away from his employee. He doesn’t have to say anything. The answer is there.
And Serizawa doesn’t make him. “Honestly, you should just get all this taken care of at the hospital. I think half the kids are there too.”
That gets Reigen’s attention. “Is everyone okay?”
Serizawa shakes his head. “I’m not sure. I was trying to find help from other espers when you went in to save Kageyama, but just about everyone I was hearing from says they were being treated. Hopefully Dimple can find out more.” He pushes gauze against Reigen’s feet. “It sounds like Teruki is in pretty bad shape.”
That churns all the warm feelings in Reigen’s heart. He eyes Mob again, whose small chest slowly rises up and down. How is an emotionally intact Mob going to handle all of this?
“I need to call Ritsu. Now.”
“I told you that like ten minutes ago.”
“Shut up.”
“Sorry.”
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It isn’t until Ritsu’s phone rings that he realizes Teru snuck it again.
“No mirrors!” he spits, and snatches it easily from the bedridden esper who groans in exasperation.
What a surprise it was when Ritsu first woke up in the ER to see Teru in a bed right next to him. The other boy grinned at him in a drugged haze while Ritsu quickly sat up and looked around at the frantic bustling of the hospital. It was then that he knew two things. 1) He hadn’t died. 2) Shigeo still hadn’t been stopped. That was over an hour ago.
It’s the nurse’s turn for exasperation, bringing Ritsu quickly to the present. She swats his hands gently as he moves, interfering with the shot she has ready in her hand. It is this very thing which kept him from leaving the hospital immediately after he’d awoken, much to his frustration. Well, that, and the minor concussion. After finding that Teru was a mess but nothing critical, he’d gotten up to go see what he could find about his brother, but ended up finding Shou and his dad who were getting treated but also thankfully okay. Before he could do anything else, though, he got dizzy and threw up, so a nurse shuffled him back to a bed by Teru where he watched the news in horror at the devastation his brother created.
And Ritsu couldn’t help him because he had to wait for a tetanus shot.
The nurse gives him a pointed look at that moment which he misses as his eyes fall to his ringing phone. Reigen is calling. His hands tremble. “Mind if I take this?” Ritsu asks with an apologetic smile. “It’s my dad.” As if.
Behind him, Teru snorts.
The nurse is already wiping Ritsu’s arm down with alcohol. “Go ahead,” she says.
Ritsu answers quickly with his free hand. “Is Brother—? Did you—?”
“He’s okay, Ritsu.”
Ritsu’s eyes burn. The needle goes in.
“Where….Can I talk to him?”
“He’s…asleep right now. But I’m sure he’ll be up soon. We’re at the office. Are you okay?
The nurse finishes slapping the bandaid on his arm and mouths that he is good to go. Ritsu glances over at Teru whose eyes are wide with questions, his entire body slathered in bandages. The result of his brother’s pent-up feelings. With a single nod from Ritsu, Teru instantly smiles and relaxes back into the pillows.
“I’m fine. On my way.”
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When Shigeo normally wakes up from sleep, it is slow and sluggish. He doesn’t like waking up because sleep is so freeing and comforting. It is warm without worries.
But not this sleep.
Shigeo does not like this sleep.
Here there are buildings falling, people screaming, cars crashing, and him. At the center of it all with his hands raised towards Hanazawa’s bloody face—wait, no. It’s Shou’s dad. Now Ritsu. His teammates. The faces keep shifting, all yelling at him to stop—
Shishou.
Shigeo bursts to his senses, hands gripping the top of the couch before he can even see. I have to get out of this place.
His legs haven’t caught on yet, however, and they are tangled in the blanket he didn’t see covering them. Now he’s on the floor, but which way is up, he isn’t sure.
He gets moving forward somehow anyway, and for the first time he is aware that he can’t hear anything. His heartbeat is pounding in his ears like drums. Is he breathing? Or is that one of the too loud sounds he’s hearing?
And then the door opens and it isn’t a dream after all. It’s real.
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Without even realizing it, Reigen dozed off. Ritsu said he was on his way, Serizawa left to go help outside, and all of Reigen’s exhaustion caught up with him as he settled in his armchair.
Only to wake up what feels like moments later to a loud thump. Startled, he blinks his eyes lazily until another crash reminds him of who it is that resides on the couch. He jumps, and sleep flees from his thoughts.
“Mob?”
The boy had fallen to the floor, seemingly in a panic if his erratic breathing is anything to go by. Reigen tenses, pushing to his feet when Mob doesn’t respond. Instead his student feels the ground around him with his hands like a blind man, eyes wide with an expression Reigen has rarely ever seen on his student’s face: fear.
Clearly something is wrong. No longer inching up slowly, Reigen leaps from the chair in a way that would have been heroic were it not for the pain that lashes out all over his body. While he is struggling to stay on his feet, Mob finally finds his own. The moment Mob’s feet are under him, he stumbles and trips to the door.
Reigen shouts his name again, but, again, no response. What is he thinking? Forgetting the pain in his limbs, Reigen rushes forward, picturing Mob's expression after he was rejected by his crush. Maybe he’s not thinking.
It’s too late. Mob opens the door, and an entirely new kind of fear swells up in Reigen’s chest when Mob doesn’t run. No, Mob didn’t plan on running. Whatever was going through his mind, Mob is now facing the destruction of his own doing. Reigen sees him drop to his knees, and, even though he’s no psychic, he can see Mob’s thoughts like his own.
What have I done?
The door is wide open, revealing smoke and emergency vehicles and collapse. Reigen stumbled to a stop when he saw Mob open the door, but now he hurries forward again, jumping in front of Mob—in front of the view. He slams his knees into the ground, leveling himself with his student.
“Mob!”
If Mob didn’t notice Reigen before, he notices him now as Reigen claps his hands over the boy’s clammy cheeks. His eyes are wide and red with tears and broken blood vessels. Despite his heavy breathing and sweating, he’s cold.
And that’s just what’s on the outside, Reigen knows. This boy destroyed nearly an entire city. Who knows what the repairs will look like, the injuries, the…Reigen swallows. The deaths.
“Listen to me, Mob,” Reigen starts just as Mob’s eyes begin trailing sideways again towards the wreckage. The kid is hyperventilating. “Listen very carefully now, you hear me?”
And Mob is 14.
Reigen tries not to let his voice shake. If he’s to give Mob the most important truth of his life, he is going to do it right. Because Mob needs the truth.
“It’s not your fault.”
And because Mob is just a kid.
There is a flicker of something in Mob’s eyes, and the water in them spills over his cheeks—over Reigen’s hands which still hold them. The only sounds Mob makes are shuddering, halting breaths.
Reigen blinks back tears himself. “It’s not your fault, okay?” he says again. “It may have been you because those feelings are a part of you, but you weren’t in control. You and I both know that. So don’t let this—” he takes one hand away from Mob’s face to gesture to the mess around them in the city “—that you couldn’t control—don’t let it control you.”
Now the tears are flowing freely from both their faces, neither one looking away from the other. It’s strange. They’d both seen each other cry before over something or other (just a couple hours ago as a matter of fact), but this is different.
Reigen lets his hands fall from his student’s face to his shoulders, squeezing them in a way that is hopefully reassuring and not like a massage.
“It’s like a natural disaster,” he decides to add after racking his brain some more. “When it’s over, we know it isn’t anyone’s fault. We just sort of…clean up.”
Mob’s trembling lips curve into a smile then, and he sucks in his first full breath. His gaze drifts around Reigen, towards the destruction. For the first time since waking up, Reigen suddenly has the embarrassing panic that maybe Mob wasn’t even worried about any of what he just talked about. It isn’t like he asked, after all.
“I’ll have to work hard, too,” his apprentice whispers.
The pressure that was building in Reigen’s head without him realizing it dissipates with that single sentence. It will be fine. Everything is fine.
He gets to his feet slowly, minding his sore body. He reaches his hand out to Mob with a real smile. The boy’s eyes watch his master for only a moment; then he wipes tears and snot away with his filthy gakuran sleeve and stands up shakily by himself. Ignoring the outstretched hand, Mob wraps both of his, gently, around Reigen.
Reigen blinks and more tears leak from his eyes. Will they ever stop falling? He stretches out his open hand awkwardly, pulling it towards Mob’s shoulder where he pats him softly. That’s right, he thinks. He doesn’t want to keep Mob or any one else an arm’s length away. Not anymore.
From here he can see into the house; the scene of the tipped cup of milk on the coffee table, some scattered magazines, and the blanket trailing towards the door pull his mind back to the worry over Mob’s response upon waking. It seemed like a panic attack.
Reigen softly pulls away from the hug to ask how the kid is feeling. It is then that he notices the blood on his hands. With a quick glance down he sees it on his white shirt as well (yes he changed his clothes from earlier, thank you very much). So why the—
—only to notice Mob stumbling on his feet despite not having moved from his space in the doorway. He’s blinking rapidly, the color in his face coming and going. He teeters backwards and Reigen grabs his arm.
“Oi!”
Blood paints the side of his head.
Mob must feel it because his hand goes right to it as he crashes back down to his knees, despite Reigen’s support. They both stare at the blood in horror. How did Reigen not notice he was injured? How did he not notice?
“Shishou!” Mob’s head snaps up to look at Reigen. Or at least Reigen thinks he is. The boy’s eyes can’t seem to focus on his face.
That’s right. Reigen needs to call 119 immediately. Except what is the point? The emergency services have to be at wit’s end during this mess. How is Reigen going to get him to a hospital? It was hard enough getting him here. As his hands flutter over Mob, his eyes leaf over the room for his phone. Then Mob snatches his attention again.
“I didn’t ask!” Mob’s voice is soft, still shaking but insistent.
What?
“I didn’t ask you what happened to everyone. If they’re okay.” Mob grabs Reigen’s forearms sharply, his eyes wide with emotion like Reigen has never imagined on his face. “Are they okay?” His grip is tight on his arms.
Now, Reigen doesn’t know who Mob is talking about. He has ideas, but he doesn’t know all that happened when Mob lost control. Before today, he would have probably just said yes. But now…even in this state…would Mob forgive him again if Reigen lied to him? What if he said yes and Hanazawa is in critical condition or worse? At least he knows Ritsu is—
“Brother!”
Ritsu.
The grip on his arms slackens as Mob’s attention turns to the new arrival. A drop of sweat rolls into a tear on his face as he whispers, “Thank goodness,” and his eyes slip close.