1999

Exactly 51 days after Mob's 14th birthday, Ritsu is born.

Mob and his father sit outside the hospital room, hallway turned sickly-green by the old fluorescent bulbs. They have an unspoken agreement not to speak to each other for now. A passersby's glance would make obvious that they're anxious to see the baby, but in truth their anxiety is about something else.

"The whole room shook when you came!" His mother had recalled as Mob pressed his ear to her belly one night. "Let's hope it won't happen this time, or not too badly at least." Her tone was lighthearted, but Mob knew it was forced. He sits, and waits for objects to float, lights to flicker, people to gasp and yell in confusion.

There is a baby's wail, and the lights do not flicker. Things stay where they are. After a few long moments, Mob's father laughs with relief and claps him on the back.

They're escorted inside. Mob's mother is fast asleep. On her breast, a red lump with impossibly thick hair and loud, loud lungs is being tended to. Their father takes the baby's tiny hand, and motions for Mob to take the other.

i will protect you from everything, he vows, holding that hand delicate as eggshells, priceless as diamonds. In front of them, the nurse yelps as the scissors he was supposed to cut the umbilical cord with twist and tangle like vines.

Afterwards, they find Reigen and his mother waiting for them in the lobby. His sneakers screech as he runs to Mob and practically tackles him, babbling, "How's little brother? I can't wait to meet him! Oi, is he like you?"

Mob grins a shy sliver of a grin, his eyes lit up. "No," he says, "but he's perfect."

Over their heads, Mob can hear his father drop coins into the vending machine for snacks and tell Reigen's mother, "I'm glad Shigeo has your son."

"As am I," she laughs. "They're strange, wonderful boys. I'm sure they'll do strange, wonderful things together."

Reigen pulls on Mob's bangs, perhaps displeased that Mob's attention was diverted from him even for a few seconds. He's still grinning, though, gleeful and eager and talking about how he'd always wanted a little brother. Mob idly imagines Reigen dressed as a ninja, sneaking into their home to steal Ritsu away for himself.

"Don't forget about me, your lonely only-child friend," Reigen laments, placing a dramatic hand over his heart. Mob answers without needing to think about it: "Of course not, Arataka-kun."

Reigen lights up, bright as a city all alone in the middle of a desert, bright as the whole day, and Mob knows he could never forget this.

2012

Mob texts Ritsu to have a good day at school, and enters the Spirits and Aliens Consultation Office. He sees Tome hunched over her desk, engrossed in Candy Crush Saga, something she's been doing a lot recently. He yanks her phone out of her hand with a flick of his wrist, and smirks when she springs up like a jack-in-the-box as the phone swims on the ceiling.

"Mob-kun you little shit I thought it was a demon! Or an alien abduction!"

"Stay on your toes, Tome-chan," he chuckles, floating the phone gently back to her. "Aliens might really try to abduct your phone this time, and then what would we do?"

Tome grumbles and smooths down her pencil skirt, but a smile tugs at her mouth anyway. "Smartass. Reigen's in the massage room," she says, though Mob didn't ask.

"We're not supposed to call it the 'massage room,' just the exorcism room," he answers, walking towards it anyway as he straightens his tie.

"Sure, like I can call myself the Alien Whisperer or that dork can call himself the century's Greatest Psychic."

Mob lets her rant. He pushes the door open to see Reigen organizing incense sticks. The little windows have been opened to let the old air out, and the morning sun hugs and blurs Reigen's edges into an aura of his own. Even in his full suit, he always manages to look disheveled, the same way he did in their uniform when they were children. He looks up at the sound of Mob's shuffling, and grins. Mob's heart flutters pathetically like a caged bird.

"Hey, Mob. Ready to get some exorcisms going?"

"Always, Arataka-kun." Mob stretches out and the windows flutter shut, the lamp in the corner switches on. The anthuriums that were slumping in their pots stand at attention, their petals growing just a bit wider. As he does this, he realizes Reigen is staring. Mob wonders consciously if his staticked floating hair looks different, or his tie isn't done right. Reigen is staring but Mob doesn't think anything of it because that's been happening since they were fifteen. It never means anything when he looks at Mob like that.

Reigen coughs and waves a hand in front of his nose, probably because of the still-stuffy room. "You made the flowers grow again," he chides. "Can't you ever throw that energy my way, even once?"

Mob grins. "I'm only four centimeters taller than you, Arataka-kun."

"Yeah, but I'm the one seven months older," Reigen huffs, storming past him into the office space. "I should at least look it."

"You're being transparently insecure again, Reigen," Tome cackles over the sounds of the tinny candy explosions from her phone. An expression crosses over Reigen's face that would have looked impossibly cartoonish on anyone else, and they begin bickering. Mob tunes them out and sits at his desk. In the company emails, a woman named Hanako has asked for their help to dispatch a headbutting evil spirit. He can hear Reigen threatening to tear down Tome's alien poster and replace it with another copy of his, and he smiles to himself, types a reply to their new client. It's just another perfect day.