Mob was always kind of relieved when the teachers picked the groups for assignments. It saved him the awkwardness of having to ask people only for them to have to explain to him that they already had their group picked out. The only downside was that sometimes he didn't know anyone in his group very well at all.
This time was one of those times.
"I'm just saying, I don't know what you're so mad about," Saito said, not looking up from where he was typing into his phone. His fingers and eyes moved in rapid unison. Mob didn't know how he kept up with it while talking. "If you ask me, we got way lucky."
"Good thing nobody asked you," Yokoyama said, tossing her hair and sniffing.
"You kind of did," Takada said with a shrug. He was leaning over to peek at Saito's phone. Saito kept shrugging his shoulder if Takada leaned too close, but otherwise didn't try to stop him. "When you asked if anyone else cared."
Mob, who had been sitting stiffly, hands upon knees, and trying to follow the course of the conversation jumped a little. He hadn't realized that had actually been an invitation for his opinion. "Um," he said. The other three jumped a little too before turning to look at him. "Um, I think Fujita's already started on the project over there." The other three continued to stare at him and his palms suddenly felt clammy. He resisted the urge to wipe them against his pants. "I just thought maybe we should go over and see how we can help?"
"Hah, good luck," Yokoyama said. "She'd just tell you not to get in her way."
"Right, so we should just let her do her own thing. It's not like she's gonna rat us out to the teacher," Saito said.
"Fujita's groups always get really good grades," Takada said.
"Oh, okay," Mob said, uncertain. Letting one person do all the work didn't seem very fair to him. But...it was true that he wasn't very good at this sort of thing. Maybe if he tried to help he'd just ruin it and then everyone would get a bad grade. He looked over to where Fujita was very seriously sketching ideas onto a sheet of paper and something squirmed in his gut and his chest.
"Look, you do what you want, Kageyama. We're just telling you that you'll be wasting your time," Saito said and then frowned as something on his phone beeped rapidly. "Shit, there goes my high score."
"Hm? Fujita?" Inugawa rubbed at his neck as he thought. "I mean, yeah, she pretty much does every group project by herself. I think last year someone offered to help her and she just bit their head off - said she'd already done it all."
"Sounds like a pretty good deal to me," Shirihiko said. "It means you don't have to worry about homework this week, right?"
"Oh, I guess that's true," Mob said, brightening with the realization.
"Oi, Mob, you're half way through a push-up!"
"E-eh?" Mob glanced downward and his elbows wobbled with the attention, almost as if his gaze had added extra weight.
"Ah, don't give up, Mob! Fight!"
"Do you sense anything, Mob?" Reigen asked, hand inserted casually into one pocket. The building in front of them looked like it might once have been capable of 'looming', but years of sinking into rot and disuse had made it just look vaguely sad.
"Yes." Sometimes Mob couldn't detect any spirits when he and Reigen visited a haunting site. People are haunted by many things, Mob, Reigen had told him one time when he'd been particularly troubled by it. It wasn't an issue now, though; even standing outside the front door he could feel the hair on his neck standing on end. "It's very powerful."
"Right," Reigen said after a moment, shifting to look at him. "The client asked us not to do a straight exorcism today; we're supposed to help the spirit move on. And sometimes it's okay not to exorcise spirits if they're not hurting anybody."
"Like the little family in the woods," Mob said.
"Exactly, like the little family in the woods." Reigen snapped his fingers. "But we also can't let the spirit hurt anyone."
"Right." Reigen just looked down at him expectantly and Mob scrambled to think of what else he was supposed to say.
Reigen sighed and laid a heavy hand on Mob's shoulder. "Just keep an eye out." Reigen patted his shoulder once, twice, firm. "You'll know what to do."
Mob followed Reigen into the building, staring up at him, but Reigen wasn't looking at him anymore. His gaze was darting into the darkness, as if the spirit might emerge from any of the barely distinguishable shadows on the walls. It was a good instinct; Mob could feel the aura snaking through the space around them.
"It's not happy that we're here," Mob said. Reigen paused, stiffened, before continuing on.
It was when Reigen's foot was stepping over the threshold of a particularly decrepit looking doorway that snaking turned to striking. Mob's hand flashed out, but it was almost unnecessary, his power moving first without the need of physical direction. He felt something recoil in the dark and remembered at the last second to pull back; this was not an exorcism job.
"Leach." Something without a shape settled in front of them, just beyond the boundaries of the room. Mob watched it warily. It happened sometimes that a spirit became so entrenched into the place that it was haunting that it lost its own physical form; they would have a hard time convincing it to move on if that was the case. "Parasite."
"Hello," Reigen said loudly, hovering outside of the doorway. "My name is Reigen Arataka. This is my disciple, Mob - "
The spirit lashed out again, but Mob moved first. Reigen flinched back from the place where the spirit struck at his barrier.
"Leach," the spirit said again. "You're hiding behind the boy."
"You're the only one who's hiding here," Reigen said. His eyes slid past the spirit's non-form to veer wildly into the dim room. "Why don't you come on out and we can talk about this like civilized adults?"
"People like you are the worst kind of vermin," the spirit said, apparently not interested in Reigen's offer. "You cling to the talents of others, relying on them to carry you. Does he even know what you are?"
Reigen waved one energetically dismissive hand. "We all have different skills that give our contributions value," he said. "It's only natural that we rely on other people."
"What do you contribute? What value do you have?" the spirit asked and its presence seemed to swell. Mob's power prickled along his own skin as he kept himself waiting. "I gave my whole life to my work while the rest just waited for the credit. Where is the value in that?"
"Ah, here we go." Reigen stepped forward, just outside the doorway now; brave, confident, or careless, it was hard to tell sometimes. "Alright, why don't you tell us your story and we'll see what we can do about this haunting situation."
"Why don't you disappear."
Mob tried to hold himself back, stopping the spirit's curse without harming. It was like trying to cup a bubble in your hands: delicate, careful.
Inevitably impossible.
All it took was a brief spike, an infinitesimal falter in control, and the bubble burst, splattering Mob and everything around him with the collateral damage.
Mob awoke to the distinct sensation that something was off, like looking in the mirror and finding your nose moved two millimeters to the left. He was sleeping on the floor, like he had for years now, but the angle of the sun was all wrong. And his feet were cold.
He looked downward and realized that his feet were also big.
He climbed from his bed and his limbs felt strange, longer. Not, he noticed with disappointment, more muscular. He used them to carefully make his way to a bathroom he didn't recognize, hoping there would be a mirror.
His nose was, fortunately, exactly where he'd left it. The face it was attached to, however, was quite different. Older.
Okay, so he had somehow traveled to the future. Well. That really wasn't that strange, considering everything that had happened to him already. There was no need to panic.
He was kind of panicking a little bit.
He took a better look around the apartment. Small. Sparse. Clean. His? It was hard to tell; there were no photos on the wall or personal affects that would give its ownership away. He spent some time examining a small potted plant by the window that seemed to be barely clinging on to life.
The nicest thing in the apartment was very clearly the cellphone charging on the kitchen counter. Even so, the model would have already been considered out of date in Mob's time; it must have been considered ancient now. It was kind of comforting to look at.
As he scrolled through the phone, a sense of relief built with every contact he recognized. Mom and Dad. Ritsu. Hanazawa. Reigen.
His thumb hovered over 'Reigen Arataka' for a long moment before he flipped the phone closed. This was the future; he didn't know if the number was up to date or if he still worked at Spirits and Such. Or if Spirits and Such still existed. Or if Reigen still lived in Spice City.
He studied the familiar skyline through the window. He could probably find his way from here.
He checked the small closet and to his relief found a coat that looked like it fit him. It felt weird, taking a strange coat without permission, but he supposed that the coat was (technically) his. He reached into his pockets. From the left, he pulled a handful of crumpled receipts; all of them were from the same store, for the same type of potted plant, bought weeks apart from one another. He glanced again at the dying plant by the window, trying to decipher the strange puzzle his future self had left for him.
From the right, he pulled two keys attached by a ring. He tried both in the apartment's front door and the second one turned the lock. Good. Okay.
Mob felt so relieved when he found the office, right where they'd left it, that his legs almost wobbled with it. He inspected the second key from his coat pocket curiously before trying it in the door; the lock turned easily.
He flicked on the lights and this space instantly felt more familiar than the apartment that he'd woken up in. There were changes: the posters with Reigen's likeness were gone from the walls, the tile floor he remembered had been replaced with warm, if cheap-looking carpet, there weren't quite as many books, some of the furniture had been moved. But Reigen's desk and the smaller one that he'd given Mob to work at were both still there. Where the apartment had been bare of personal affects, the office was tidily scattered with little pieces of evidence that people worked there: two mugs sitting on the coffee table, a couple of knickknacks by the small tv, a couple of photos on Reigen's desk in fragile plastic frames.
Mob handled the photos carefully, faintly surprised when he turned over the first one to find a picture of himself and Ritsu. They were older than he remembered either of them being, but perhaps a little younger than he appeared to be now. Disappointingly, the Mob in the photo hadn't noticed the camera in time to smile, hands pressing down on the papers spread in front of him. The Ritsu in the picture was frozen in the middle of turning toward the photographer, eyebrows drawn to the space between his eyes and mouth open to say something. Mob wondered who had taken the picture and if Ritsu and Reigen were on better terms now.
The next one was of a boy in a Salt Middle School uniform who Mob didn't know, but who resembled Reigen closely enough that he was probably a relative. The camera had been angled in such a way that the boy had clearly taken the picture himself, leaving the end result out of focus, but he wore a large, open grin.
Mob set the pictures back and glanced uncertainly around the office. He at least knew now that Reigen was still here. He couldn't be certain that Reigen would know how to fix this anymore than he did, but…he would feel better not being alone. And somehow things had always worked out before. Mostly.
He was just debating giving the phone number a try when the door to the office burst open, followed by the sandy-haired boy from the picture. The boy almost chased after the door, reaching to stop it before it slammed against the wall and sighing in relief when he succeeded. "I'm sorry I'm late, Shishou, I – " The boy stopped, schoolbag slapping once against his side with the abrupt end to his momentum, staring at Mob as he stood stiff and uncertain in front of the desk. "Are you okay?"
Mob startled momentarily at being addressed. He opened his mouth. Closed it. And finally it dawned on him who the boy had probably been expecting to see. "Oh, are you looking for Reigen-shishou too?"
"Am I - ?" The boy's mouth moved a moment longer without sound, brows furrowed. And then he marched up to Mob with purpose, peering into his face with such force that Mob actually found himself leaning back. Without warning, the boy clapped his hands on Mob's arms, grip surprisingly firm, and Mob felt his heart make a genuine effort to escape through his throat. "Shishou, you need to sit down," the boy said, apparently to Mob.
"I – okay," Mob said and let himself be led to the office's familiar couch because nothing about what was happening made any sense and sitting down sounded good right about now.
The boy pressed the back of his hand to Mob's forehead and narrowed his eyes before moving away. "You're not sick again."
"I don't think so," Mob said. His own hand almost automatically went to touch the spot that the boy's hand had vacated.
The boy cupped his chin thoughtfully, rocking back on his heels, and Mob was struck again by just how much like Reigen he looked. "Did anything strange happen before I got here? Any shady looking visitors?"
"Yesterday, I was fourteen," Mob said. If this boy was studying under Reigen, maybe he could help. "And now I'm not."
The boy blinked at him. "Who did you say you were here to see?"
"Reigen-shishou. I think he still works here, but – "
"I'm Reigen Arataka," the boy said, thumping his chest proudly, "the most promising exorcist of my age. I'm studying under the greatest psychic of the twenty-first century."
Mob's whole body felt strange: cold and hot at the same time. His throat was dry, tongue heavy in his mouth, but he swallowed and spoke anyway. "And who's that?"
"You," Reigen said, looking at him steadily. "Kageyama Shigeo. Mob. My Shishou. Except you're not, are you?"
"I think I'm still the first two," Mob said.
Reigen sat on the couch opposite him and leaned forward across his knees. Mob had seen this pose enough times before; it usually meant Reigen was interested in a case. "Why don't you start from the beginning."
"Right, okay," Reigen said, pacing a little now. Mob's eyes tracked him as he moved. "I'll have to handle this afternoon's customers; that's alright, some of them are regulars. We've got that little old lady coming in again to talk about her cats." He stopped abruptly, arm swinging around to point at Mob. "Do you have somewhere to go?"
Mob stiffened, back ramrod straight as if the tension from Reigen's arm was contagious. "Ah, um, I could go back to the apartment?" Reigen stared at him blankly. "My apartment," he clarified. "Or I think it's my apartment."
"Good, perfect, wait for me there." Reigen turned away and it took Mob a moment to realize that the conversation was evidently over. He hovered uncertainly by the couches for a while in case there was anything more. Reigen flitted busily from one part of the room to another: brewing tea, sorting through papers, checking something on his phone. Eventually, Mob decided it was probably alright to let himself out. He stopped outside the front door, patted his pocket and felt for the key; it was still there. He debated on whether Reigen expected him to lock the door after him; he decided against it.
He had the entire walk to think his situation over, but nothing became any clearer. It didn't matter how he turned it over in his head or what angle he held it from. Understanding of his situation fled from his grasp like the answers to a math equation.
Alternate realities shouldn't have felt that much more impossible than time travel. Home felt somehow farther now.
The knock on the door came about a half hour after Mob had decided that Reigen wasn't actually coming tonight. He opened it to find Reigen shivering against the night chill, holding two bags of take out. "Sorry I took so long," Reigen said. "I had to sneak out after Mom went to bed."
Mob thought for a moment about scolding him, but the idea of scolding Reigen about anything was too weird. Instead, he moved aside and Reigen was quicker to make himself at home than he expected. He dumped the food on the small dining table and picked through the kitchen for clean dishes in a way that suggested familiarity. Mob could count on one hand the number of times he had been to his Shishou's apartment over the years.
"I wasn't sure if you'd had anything to eat today," Reigen said, unpacking his own food.
Mob honestly hadn't thought about it with everything that had happened. His stomach growled loudly, as if to chastise him for this oversight. "I didn't. Thank you."
Reigen nodded and gestured for Mob to sit across from him, digging into his burger without further preamble. The sight of ketchup smeared across Reigen's face made something in Mob's chest ease. This Reigen may have been younger and had different memories, but he was still Reigen.
"So, you wanna go back to your own world, time, whatever," Reigen said, gesturing sharply with a fry. "I want my Shishou back. The way I see it, we're partners."
"That makes sense," Mob said, relieved. 'Partner' sounded like a much more manageable title than 'Shishou'. Reigen looked pleased.
Reigen insisted on looking at 'the scene of the crime' after they finished dinner, examining the bedroom with careful scrutiny. He insisted on turning over Mob's bed to check for portals. Mob felt like he probably would have noticed if there had been one, but had to admit that he hadn't checked.
Finally, Reigen rolled back onto his calves, looking vaguely disheveled, and held out a hand toward Mob. "Give me your phone."
"You don't have one?" Mob asked even as he passed his to Reigen.
"Mine won't work for this," Reigen said, frowning at the screen. "Great as my abilities are, I've determined that interdimensional travel might be beyond even me. So, I'm calling in my secret weapon." Reigen turned the screen to Mob for a moment before going through with the call, apparently unfazed by Mob's surprise.
"Ritsu?" Mob glanced at the dark sky through the window. "It's late; will he even pick up?"
"He'll pick up. That's why it had to be your phone." Reigen held his finger up in an unmistakable request for quiet. "Yo, Kageyama – "
Reigen lapsed into sudden silence, frowning with the phone pressed against his ear. Mob sat stiffly, hands fisted in his lap as he waited. "Yeah, I know, but – " Reigen started before pausing again. "If you would just listen – " Reigen paused. Frowned harder. Flipped the phone closed. "He hung up."
"Is Ritsu okay?"
"Oh yeah, he's fine." Reigen waved a hand in front of his face, at once reassuring and dismissive. "He's just mad that I woke him up when his new job starts in the morning. I'll call him back."
"We can't bother Ritsu," Mob said.
"It's not like I want to, but – "
"We can't bother Ritsu," Mob said firmly. Just a twitch of psychic power and he pulled the phone from Reigen's grasp for good measure. It felt a little weird; maybe his body wasn't the only thing that had changed.
"Geez, fine." Reigen rolled his eyes before standing up, stretching until his back popped. "I guess it's good to know that you don't really change when it comes to stuff like that, whatever world you come from."
"Look, I have school tomorrow, but I'll do some digging around and let you know if I find anything," Reigen said. "You should see if you can do anything on your end in the mean time. You know, psychic stuff." He waved his hands expansively in what Mob guessed was supposed to be a representation of 'psychic stuff'.
Mob nodded even though he wasn't sure exactly what it was that he was supposed to be trying. Maybe…could he make a portal? He let his aura flare, just a little, and even with the 'weird' quality to it, he knew his powers were as strong as ever. It was almost scarier to entertain using them to travel between realities as a real possibility.
Reigen didn't seem to notice Mob's flare up, pausing instead to look at the plant by the window. He reached out one hand to touch a browning leaf before poking at the soil. "I thought he was looking after it."
Mob thought guiltily of the receipts in the coat pocket and wondered if he should say anything; it wasn't his secret to share. And then Reigen sighed and Mob couldn't find it in himself to lie. "I think he's been replacing it every couple of weeks. Sorry, I was never much good at looking after plants." Actually, if he used his powers, they usually grew too much and became a problem in a different way. He understood why this world's Mob would want to care for the plant without relying on psychic powers, might have even felt proud of it, but he couldn't help feeling disappointed that he'd clearly been unable to take care of something that clearly meant so much to Reigen.
To his surprise, Reigen didn't seem disappointed at all. If anything, he left looking happy.
"Where have you been, Dimple?" The words slipped out before Mob realized that they probably wouldn't make any sense – not to this Dimple.
"Keeping out trouble," Dimple said, looking a little cross. "I figured I'd give the kid some space after the, ah, incident last month. Keep you from deciding to poof me. Turns out, there's no pleasing some people."
"So, he's not possessed," Reigen said, staring Dimple down.
"Possessed? Kageyama? Hah! I'd like to meet the spirit who tried that one."
"No," Mob said because Dimple wasn't talking about himself and there was only one other spirit who came to mind, even if Mob had technically been in someone else's body at the time. "No, you wouldn't."
Dimple stared at him for a moment. "No, I don't suppose I would."
"Well, it was worth a shot." Reigen sighed. "I figured we should rule the easy stuff out before breaking the laws of science and whatnot."
"He's not possessed," Dimple said, "but he is sporting one hell of a curse."
"Curse?" Mob's eyes widened with the epiphany.
"And you couldn't just say that from the beginning?" Reigen glared at Dimple, hands on hips.
"I was getting there, sheesh." Dimple floated closer to Mob, looking him over before whistling. "It's a doozy too. Normally Kageyama should be able to shrug this kind of stuff off, but, as usual, his powers complicate things."
"What do you mean?" Mob checked himself over, wondering if he could spot the curse if he looked hard enough.
"I mean, you appear to have…absorbed it? Something like that. Shame – I don't get to eat curses very often."
"So, what do we do now?" Reigen asked.
"You're gonna need the help of a really powerful psychic, that's for sure."
Reigen glanced at Mob. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to lend me your cellphone again."
"We're – "
" – not bothering Ritsu. Yeah, I got it." Reigen sighed.
"You could always ask that guy," Dimple said. Reigen's eyes narrowed. "What? Is this because you want into his pants? Because I don't see how it would hurt. In fact – "
Reigen grabbed Mob's arm firmly. "Let's go. There's nothing this useless spirit can do for us."
"Useless? Who are you calling useless, you wannabe – "
The house looked normal enough, but Reigen kept straightening the hem of his shirt as they approached. If Mob didn't know better, he might have mistaken it for nervousness.
The woman who answered the door did not look pleased to see them and Mob began to feel a little nervous himself.
"Good afternoon, Serizawa-san," Reigen said, ignoring Mob's surprise at the name. Reigen had his Customer Service Smile in full force and Mob allowed himself to relax fractionally; Reigen had always been very good at dealing with people who didn't want to deal with him.
The woman stared at Reigen for a long moment before stepping aside. "Katsuya's upstairs."
Reigen and Mob both thanked her in turn before entering, Reigen encouraging him to ignore every ingrained instinct toward politeness and hurry on. About half way up the stairs, Reigen finally acknowledged the questioning glances Mob had been directing at him. "I miiight have yelled at her. Once." Mob couldn't entirely quash spark of admiration; Reigen would be the kind of kid who wasn't afraid to yell at an adult.
Reigen seemed to have no trouble figuring out which room belonged to Serizawa, pausing to rap his knuckles gently against the door. "Serizawa-senpai? We need to speak with you."
It only took a few seconds for the door to crack open, a head poking out. Serizawa looked both less put-together than he usually did these days and more so than he had been when Mob had first met him. He smiled tremulously and seemed to unfold from himself a little when he saw them. "Reigen-kun. Kageyama-san." He paused and his brow furrowed as he turned to Reigen. "I thought you were sick?"
"What? Me? No. You know me: the very image of health." Reigen quickly inserted himself into Serizawa's doorway, wrapping one arm over the other boy's shoulder and pulling him away from Mob. He seemed to remember half way in that Mob was actually supposed to be a part of the conversation and hurriedly signaled that Mob should enter. Mob tried not to feel too annoyed.
Serizawa was very patient while they explained things to him, eyebrows lowering on his face when he had to ask them to review certain points. "I'm very worried about Kageyama-san too," he said when they had finished. He glanced, almost guiltily, at Mob. "Um, both Kageyama-sans. I guess I just don't...see why you came to me with this? I mean, ah, not that I don't want to help - obviously! I just don't see how I...can?"
Reigen's eyebrows rose on his face as if to compensate for every millimeter Serizawa's eyebrows had sunk. "Serizawa, you're the most powerful psychic I know." He stopped, patted Mob on the arm, almost consolingly. "Besides Shishou, of course."
"That's very nice of you." Serizawa ducked his head as he started to turn pink and sweaty like after a workout.
"It's the truth," Reigen said emphatically. "I need a powerful psychic to get rid of this curse and you're the man for the job."
"Reigen-kun, I still can't control my powers well enough for something like this. It wouldn't be right to use them on another person."
Mob felt sympathy swell in his gut. "We'll find another way."
"What other way?" Reigen asked, one hand making a frustrated slice through the air to connect with his other palm. "We can't bother Ritsu, Dimple can't eat it, I tried calling that guy with the ESPer training camp or whatever – "
"Ah, Hanazawa-san is – "
"Busy, yes, I know. I couldn't even get through to him directly and the brat who answered the phone wouldn't tell me where he went." Reigen sighed, running a hand through his hair. Serizawa was so tense at this point that Mob's back hurt just looking at him. "I'm sorry, Serizawa, this isn't your fault. We'll…we'll figure something out."
"I do want to help," Serizawa said. "Maybe I could, ah, come by after school? Just to see if there's anything else I could do?"
"I appreciate it," Reigen said, but he didn't make eye contact with Mob the whole way back.
Mob woke up one morning to the realization that he may not be going home for a long time. Something burned at his eyes and pushed at his ribcage and he tried desperately to quash it before he wrecked something in the apartment that he still couldn't think of as his.
"He hasn't been in school all week," Dimple said, materializing arms apparently just to cross them. "I've been tailing him because tall, dark, and jittery here was worried."
"Reigen-kun, why didn't you say something?" Serizawa genuinely looked as confused as Mob felt.
Reigen glared at him, taking Mob aback; he'd never seen the Reigen of his world be anything but kind and patient with Serizawa. "Because there's nothing you could have done. You already missed so much school while you were locking yourself in your room, you can't afford to miss any more." Reigen spread his hands and adopted his most reasonable tone of voice. "Look, priority number one is still getting Shishou back, but until that happens someone needs to pay the rent and keep this place running. I may not be like the rest of you, but I can do that much."
"You shouldn't have to worry about that," Mob said. "Adults are supposed to handle those things."
"No offense, but you're not actually any more of an adult than I am," Reigen said and his expression didn't look very young at all.
"Why didn't you ask Dimple for help, then?" Serizawa asked.
"It's not like he can greet customers," Reigen said, but for the first time he looked away from all of them, appearing uncharacteristically cornered. "Why would he want to, anyway; not every job was going to have ghosts for him to eat."
"What, you can only accept help from people you think you've manipulated into giving it?" Dimple said. It sounded mean, but Dimple was easy to misunderstand when he was actually trying to help. "Is this some sort of pride thing; you're too good for handouts? Because let me tell you, kid, out of the two options this one is much more pathetic."
Mob didn't think that was it. "Reigen-shishou says that you're never too good for free"
"Look, Shishou has saved me a whole bunch of times," Reigen said. "I owe him this."
"I don't think Kageyama-san thinks of it in terms of 'owing'," Serizawa said.
Reigen whirled on Mob, advancing with an almost manic energy. "Why did you take me on as your disciple?" Mob knew the glint in Reigen's eyes well; it was the look he wore when he knew he was on to something.
"I don't know," Mob answered honestly. "I don't understand why I would." He knew it was the wrong thing to say when Reigen almost seemed to deflate. Dimple's harsh inhale and Serizawa's nervously reproachful "Kageyama-san" only backed that up.
"I don't know what kind of person this 'me' is or what he would have to teach you," Mob said, "but he must have his reasons. Reigen-shishou helped me learn to use my powers to help other people. I hope that we're still able to help people here." Mob placed a hand firmly on Reigen's shoulder. "We all have different skills that give our contributions value. It's only natural that we rely on other people."
Reigen looked up at him, wide-eyed, before turning his gaze away just as quickly. "Then why can't you rely on me?"
"I do." Mob's brow furrowed. "All the time."
"But not this 'me'," Reigen said. "And you're not the one I want to hear that from."
"I know," Mob said and tried not to be upset about it. The thing inside his ribcage rumbled and swelled.
"Hey, if your 'Reigen-shishou' was here, what would he do?"
"I don't know." He'd wanted to turn to Reigen for help from the first moment he'd woken up in this world. The thing pushed until the pressure was almost unbearable, shaking him apart from the inside. "I wish I could ask him." If they couldn't figure this out, he'd never see Reigen, or anyone else he knew, again.
Mob's aura flared; the pressure had nowhere else to go.
Dimple hurriedly backed behind Serizawa. "Kageyama, hey, what are you –"
Mob's explosion came on like a kettle coming to boil and all of them were overtaken by a blinding white light.
When Mob was finally able to open his eyes, he found himself again in an unfamiliar place: white, expansive, and empty.
Empty but for one familiar person in a grey suit and pink tie.
"Ah, Mob," Reigen said, settling into a casual slouch even as he took in his surroundings, "this is your doing I take it?"
"I think so," Mob said. Reigen shrugged and sat down, patting the space beside him to indicate that Mob should do the same. "Sorry."
"Don't be," Reigen said. "Can't say it's much to look at, but it certainly makes a change from the past week."
"Did you go somewhere too, Reigen-shishou?"
Reigen nodded. "Hell of a thing to wake up to: the office was gone, I didn't have your number – which made sense later because apparently we'd never met. I worked for a law firm. Steady, reputable. My parents would have loved it." Reigen scratched at the back of his neck. "Might have been their idea, come to think of it."
"Oh. Ah, were you very good at it?" It sounded like a stupid question as soon as he'd asked it; it seemed obvious that Reigen, who never lost an argument, would do well as a lawyer. Somehow, in his mind's eye, Mob couldn't make Reigen fit into any other context than the Spirits and Such Consultation office, feet propped on the desk, using a computer that had never heard of a 'terabyte'. Even so, he wondered if Reigen had some regrets.
"Well, you know, these places make you start small." Reigen cleared his throat, loosening his collar a little. "But my last performance review was very favorable."
"That's amazing, Shishou," Mob said sincerely.
"If something's worth doing, it's worth doing well. I've always believed that." Reigen laughed like he'd told a really good joke; Mob wished he got it. "I probably would have quit within the week."
"Why would you do that?"
"Because sometimes our talents are the worst thing for us, Mob. An idle mind is an obstacle to progress; always want more." Reigen frowned. "And never let anyone make you do something that you don't want to do."
"My Mom says we all have to do things we don't like sometimes. Like Math and dishes."
"Wise woman, your mother. And she's right for the most part. But unhappiness, dissatisfaction – these things are traps, Mob. You don't always know you're stuck until it's too late, but you have to claw your way out regardless. Otherwise – "
Mob tried to wait patiently for Reigen to finish, but no follow-up seemed to be forthcoming. Mob shifted a little, something uneasy in the silence travelling through the base of his spine. "Shishou?"
"I was trying to figure out how to get back. I did manage to track you down, but…well. And then I wasn't sure what was happening when that whole white light business started. I should have known it would be you."
"You said that I would know what to do," Mob said in realization.
Reigen blinked at him for a moment before smiling. "Just so."
"You said you found me," Mob said. "Did I – " Mob clenched his fists, unreasonably frustrated. Did I not try to help you? But maybe that Mob was still afraid of his powers. Or maybe there was some worse reason why Reigen couldn't turn to him for help.
"You did alright without me," Reigen said, ruffling Mob's hair lightly. Mob wasn't always the best at reading the mood, but Reigen didn't seem upset.
Mob thought back to the empty little apartment and how much better he had felt when he had found the office. "I think I did better with you."
"Oh?" Reigen raised an eyebrow. "Careful, Mob. Flattery is a dangerous - "
"Did you do better without me?" Mob asked because Reigen hadn't mentioned that part.
Reigen ducked his head. "No. I don't think I did." He chuckled. "Maybe I do rely on you too much."
"Then maybe - " Mob started to say and maybe he'd meant to finish with we were meant to help each other.
But at that moment, white space became impossibly whiter. And brighter. Mob blinked, squinting against the light -
- and when he opened his eyes, he was back in the musty house like nothing had changed; Reigen and the spirit still stood in their same positions. Reigen's back seemed impossibly broad as his arguments grew more passionate.
"It may be natural for the weak to cling to the strong," the spirit said, "but do not pretend that it benefits the strong."
"Was your mother weak, then?" Reigen asked.
The spirit stopped short. "What?"
"She came to us to get help for you. Is she weak because she had to rely on us?"
"How dare you – "
"No, how dare you. There's nothing more powerful in this world than the bonds between people; only fool would look at them and see weakness."
"It's not weak to ask for help," Mob said.
"Exactly," Reigen said, smacking his fist into his palm. "It's absolutely the least weak thing you could do." He stretched out a hand. "So, how about it? Take the gift your mother has given you and let us help you."
For a moment, Mob really thought that it would work. Or maybe he just wanted to believe that it would and that's why he was so late in noticing when the spirit's aura turned malevolent and violent energy grasped at Reigen's arm. Reigen howled as the skin on his arm blistered and Mob didn't even have time to think; his power surged out from him like a wave.
And this time he did not hold back.
Reigen cradled his injured hand against his chest as they sat on the lawn. They'd had to call Serizawa to pick them up; Reigen wouldn't risk driving the rental one-handed. Mob had felt bad that Serizawa had sounded so worried when they'd explained the situation to him, but mostly he was relieved that someone else was handling it now.
Reigen kept glancing down at his jacket pocket, where he kept his cigarettes. All at once, it occurred to Mob why he probably hadn't grabbed one yet. "I could light one for you," he said with a guilty glance at Reigen's hand.
Reigen turned to look at Mob, eyes a little wide. "What? Oh. Don't worry about it; I should probably cut down anyway."
Reigen stared at Mob a moment longer before turning away again, scrubbing his good hand over stubble that he didn't have. "Listen, Mob, not everyone is going to want our help," he said. Mob nodded because he understood that much, even if it didn't make anything feel any better. "But it matters that we tried."
"You've helped a lot of people," Mob said softly.
"Yes," Reigen said, "we have."
When Mob woke the next morning, his feet were the right size and maybe a little too warm.
Fujita rolled her eyes. "I already have it all planned out; I'm not changing it now."
"Oh, okay," Mob said. He eyed the various papers and objects that Fujita was carrying. It looked like a lot. "Um, I could help you carry that?" She stared at him, maybe a little disbelieving. "I'm in the Body Improvement Club," he said hopefully. His muscles still didn't look like much (though President Musashi had said that his deltoids seemed a little less soft the other day), but he was sure he could manage that much.
"Sure," she said, drawing out the middle vowel and staring at him for a moment longer before handing off some of her burden. They walked mostly silent through the hall and Fujita kept shooting him small glances.
"Um, hey," she said, stopping as they approached the door, "are you available after school today?"
Mob tried to think of any pressing commitments; Reigen wouldn't be taking on many serious jobs while his hand was bandaged and it wasn't a Body Improvement Club meeting day. "Yes, I think so," he said.
"Oh, good. Um, then you should meet me here and I can catch you up on what I've been working on so far."
"Oh! Sure!"
"Great." Fujita helped him unload the papers onto the desk. She paused to re-arrange them in a way that didn't make much sense to him, but seemed important. "And, um, thanks. You know, for asking."