Chapter 99.4 killed me, now you have to suffer as well.
Inspired by this short comic by auro-cyanide plus a bit of credit to Bethwithlit's fic "Mob is Alive" on AO3 for a little inspo as well. Thanks for all the quality Musashigeo content!
This is actually my first MP100 fic, so sorry if its ooc.
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'Oh no,' Is his first thought. 'I dropped the flowers.'
He sees them lying in a crumpled heap on the street, stems bent and petals asunder in the breeze. He barely has to think about retrieving them before they fly back into his hands, and hardly has a moment to think about running back for new ones when they go ramrod straight, petals re-growing with vibrant colour. It's a little odd, but it's convenient so he doesn't question it. Faintly, he can hear people screaming. A child is crying and there's a car horn droning steadily as if the driver is still holding it down. It's also odd, but if he doesn't hurry, he'll be late to meet Tsubomi. More people are rushing past him, probably heading towards all the noise but he can't let himself get distracted. He has to meet Tsubomi.
He was fairly close to the park before he…blacked out, but it feels like he just blinks before he appears in front of her and her friends. They're laughing, talking about the same reality television show Ritsu doesn't want him to know he follows. They haven't noticed him. For some strange reason he feels completely at ease in his skin, like he could meet Tsubomi's gaze with confidence for once. It's odd, but it's a pleasant change.
It doesn't occur to him to speak, instead he waves a hand and the movement catches Tsubomi's sharp eyes. She gasps and her friends are quick to look in the same direction. They're screaming, shouting about a floating bouquet. It's a rather mean statement, but he supposes they would see it that way when someone like him stands near Tsubomi. At least Tsubomi herself isn't joining them, she's squinting at him while her friend's try to tug her away. It must be him she's squinting at because the sun is setting behind her, and he kind of hopes they can walk home together after this is over. Should he have let Teruki take him shopping anyways? Is there something wrong with his clothes? Something on his face? He hadn't stopped to eat anything, and one of his friends would have said something if he looked strange. She calls his name hesitantly, as if she's not sure it's him which is odd. They've known each other for years and even though they don't speak much anymore, she never forgot his name.
A lot of things are just odd.
But he can worry about it later, because he still has to confess to Tsubomi while he has the guts. He nods to confirm his identity before he thrusts out the flowers to her, and she looks confused but she takes them anyways. He bows and waits for her answer. She's calling his name again but she sounds…scared? Tsubomi has nerves of steel so whatever is frightening her must be terrifying. He straightens and searches for an angry spirit but he can't sense anything, nor does he see any obvious danger. She's saying his name again, asking what happened to him and now he feels uneasy. Is his sudden boldness too much? She's asking what happened to his body and he feels a rush of pride and embarrassment. They guys at the body improvement club said he was starting to gain some definition but he didn't think even Tsubomi would notice…
He looks down at his arm to see if he's suddenly muscular, but instead of large biceps he sees black. Not solid black, but a condensed sort of mist that flashes and glows with a multitude of colours as if the aurora borealis is beneath his skin. His skin.
That's his arm.
That's not his arm.
It takes him a moment to realize but it's made entirely of psychic energy. His whole body is made up of it, what happened to his body?
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The lights start to spark, crackling and flashing with more intensity as he tries to think.
The car. The cat. The child.
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He was crossing the street, and a car almost hit a cat. He stopped it with his powers.
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He was crossing the street, and a car almost hit a child. He stopped it with his body.
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Master Reigen said his powers are like a knife, and that he shouldn't point it at people. It's not that he thought the cat's life was worth less, but he just acted before he thought. He couldn't stand to see another dead cat if he could've saved it, and he stopped the car rather than lift the cat so it had to be okay. But the child.
The truck was going too fast. If he yanked it to a sudden stop he surely would've harmed the driver, but he couldn't throw the child either, and he panicked and he bodily shoved the child out of the way and he had no time to shield himself. Where is his body!? Those people- the screams-
Tsubomi's friends are still shrieking, but now it's within reason when a few trees and the bench they're sitting on are now floating several meters in the air. He's made of psychic energy. He's a walking knife. He can only hurt people like this.
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Tsubomi is holding onto the seat with a tight grip, fear in her eyes as she stares into his. She's yelling for him to put them down but he's not doing it on purpose, she has to believe him! He's doesn't know how to communicate that so he tries to set them down, but the landing is so rough it's almost as if he just dropped them. It was an accident.
It was an accident, she has to believe him!
There's no way she'll like him.
He's a monster.
He didn't mean to!
He has to get back to his body.
He feels guilty. Worse than guilty just running away, but he doesn't know how to fix this. Tsubomi is giving him this hard look. It's cold and angry and he didn't mean to- body. He needs his body. She can't hate him if he can just explain what happened! Squished between her hand and the bench, the flowers are wilted and weathered again. The trees are upturned, roots half exposed as they rest on their sides and he hopes with everything he has that there were no animals in there. He's dangerous, out of control so it's best if he leaves before he does more damage, before Tsubomi says something that will further loosen his grip on reality. He flies back the way he came from, back towards the crowd of people that's swelled exponentially in radius as they encircle something. There's a lot of murmuring, crying, and he can hear the wails of emergency sirens in the distance. He sees the kid he saved, in the arms of some adult, the very same handheld gaming system that had occupied his attention lying face-down on the dirty ground. He rights the device absently before he ghosts through the spectators, phasing through them as if they're the ones who are intangible. He breaks through and is met with a horrible sight.
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His own body.
His physical body.
He's not in his body.
He and his body, are currently two separate entities.
He's not in his body.
It's not quite a gruesome sight, but it's extremely disturbing. He isn't mangled, but his left arm and leg don't look right. There's blood dotting and smeared on the pavement, then pooling around his head at the spot where he presumably lost his traumatic momentum, and remains unconscious. Or mentally absent. Metaphysically absent? Well he's present now, and ready to return to his body.
He drifts like a balloon in the wind towards his body- himself? He doesn't like calling it a body because that's him, and he's still alive-
He's sure he's going to be in a lot of pain. He's never broken a bone in his body but it's obviously a painful experience. Yet pain is better than this flickering quasi-existence. He's…scared. His faux flesh his jittering, almost literally crawling as it ripples in time with his anxiety. Oh God. What if he's dead? He's scared enough to vomit but he doesn't want to be a knife anymore. He wants to be soft and he doesn't mind being a little broken. He reaches out to his body tentatively, tries to ignore the man rapid-fire chattering into his cellphone and the woman pressing her fingers to his neck. His hand goes into his chest.
And it sits in there.
And he feels nothing.
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Why isn't he going back in?
He just has his black limb jammed into his own chest as if he's rooting around his lungs for a beating heart. And he feels nothing, like he's reaching through a brick wall.
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Nothing
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He can't be-
No, he's-
N̛̤̠̮̤̪̲͖̊̐̏̓ͅo͚̭͈̹̲̘͛̇̋̋̂͟tͥͧ̚͏҉͈͈͚͎̘ͅͅh̖̮͒ͬ̈́͑iͨ̾͏̼̙̪̰̦́ǹ̩̑g̛͕̳͒ͥ̔
?̷̶̶̤͂ͥ̔̊͗ͥ̂͋?͇̝͎͔̳͇ͨͨ?̥̱̮̭́͆͋ͦ͗̿ͥ͟͡?̮̫̩̦̦̥̜̈͝?̶͓̗͉͈̥̯̂̽͒͌̃̂̑ͅ?̷̺̬͖̜̙̠͛̇̓̈ͩ͒̈̑͞?̰͈̠̩̩̠̬͚̩́ͥ͐̀̈̀̕?͍͕͍̥͑̈̾͌́̚ͅ%̴͉͓͈̮̪͉̣ͮͅ
The street clears, empties like his apartment-
Paramedics are rushing over, touching him, strangling him with that neck brace-
He can't-
What's-
His body- He's being taken away! They can't leave him-
"Wait!"
And at her command, the world holds its breath. She blinks at everyone's frozen faces.
It's an accident.
It's Tsubomi.
He lets everyone go.
"I'm his childhood friend, his name is Kageyama Shigeo! I'm coming with you!" She shouts as she sprints to the nearly closed doors. She- what? Everyone is muttering with confusion and fear at the sudden phenomena, moving and stretching their limbs to confirm their freedom. He's the only one left frozen.
"Come on, we have to go!" Her commanding tone sets everyone back into gear, and she climbs into the ambulance where his body is being worked over. The medics heed her words and shut the doors in preparation to leave, but she was looking at him when she spoke. She was calling out to him. He gravitates towards the vehicle in a daze, he can still see her face even though thick metal doors block her from view. When he flies right through them, his memory lines up with reality almost perfectly. He hovers next to her and watches as they hook him up to all kinds of machinery.
"It's going to be okay Mob." She says whispers shakily, and she takes his hand in a tight grip. She's tangible.
Warm.
It's not exactly as he envisioned, but he's holding her hand. He can see through a little porthole in the ambulance doors that they're heading towards the hospital. Towards the sunset.
Tsubomi has a flower in her hair.
The machine says he has a pulse.
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Fun fact, "Long lasting and fragrant, carnations are a popular choice for sympathy arrangements. The red carnation evokes admiration while a pink carnation stands for remembrance. White carnations stand for pure love and innocence." Teleflora. com
