This chapter: Some things combust, some things mend, and Serizawa learns that to assume makes an ass out of you and me. Featuring Serizawa "all in all I'll count this as a win" Katsuya and Reigen "this family is a fucking nightmare" Arataka.

From all things Serizawa remembered of his father, it was his face on the night before he left that always seemed to live within him most vividly. There was something intrinsically memorable to an eight-year-old about fear, about terror beyond all measure.

And to see that fear in the eyes of a parent when they looked at you, well – that had to be harder to forget still.

His mother used to say the other shoe always drops. He hadn't known what it meant, had mostly been confused why anybody would be throwing shoes around in the first place. Time had been a harsh teacher, however.

"Are you nervous again?" Reigen asked. "About them saying anything?"

Out in the countryside, there was less light pollution than in the city, the air an endless dark tapestry dotted with stars above them. Their shapes were so clearly defined you would need to squint to tell them apart from an airplane, to see if they were moving.

When he put his hand on his own chest Serizawa could feel his heartbeat hammering away beneath his palm, as if the very organ was trying to escape his ribcage. "I never stop being nervous," he said. "I just try to forget the feeling is there. Or concentrate on other things. It always comes back."

He didn't know if he ever admitted that to anybody before. Not even the therapist his mother had pushed on him during puberty.

"Well, that's just true for every feeling right?" Reigen asked. The street to the estate wasn't lined by any lampposts, but there wasn't any traffic either so they risked walking in the middle of the road. The night was quiet aside from the cicadas on the trees and the occasional rustling of leaves in the breeze. Dinnertime had long since come and gone.

Serizawa was staring ahead. "Is it?"

"I'd like to believe so." In the darkness, it was hard to see the expression on Reigen's face. "Because it means the good emotions also come back."

They could tell somebody was still awake from the soft glow behind the front window of the house, diffused through the shoji. Serizawa swallowed in anticipation, telling himself to keep calm over and over again like a mantra in his head.

But when they opened the door it was Yuuko alone who greeted them. Serizawa was struck by how unkempt she looked, not at all keeping up the appearance of effortless beautiful he had come to relate to her over their short acquaintance. Where her hair was usually pinned back or otherwise kept out of her face, it now hung in loose strands that were prone to getting in her eyes if she didn't keep brushing them behind her ears. Serizawa noted she wasn't wearing any make-up, for the first time since they met.

Her eyes lit up when she entered the hallway to see them coming through the door, pulling the silken yukata she was wearing over her nightclothes tighter around her body. The relief that was unmistakably on her features had an instant effect on Serizawa. That effect being overwhelming guilt mostly.

"Oh, Arataka-" Yuuko put her hand on Reigen's cheek, but pulled it back almost immediately. "I was worried, you know? Leaving your poor mother waiting." There was no sharpness to the words, nor anger.

"I'm sorry," Reigen said, and once again Serizawa could tell he meant it. That there was a sincerity there kept under careful wraps around his father that shone through only for the other parent. "We didn't expect to be home this late."

And as if Yuuko could discern as well, her features softened. The lack of makeup made the lines on her face stand out, yet somehow it made her look younger. Serizawa didn't know how that was possible, but at the same time, it made perfect sense. "No matter," she said quickly, some of the properness slipping back into her voice. But it was almost as if she was making fun of it this time. "Have you eaten? There are leftovers if you're hungry-"

"We have, it's part of the reason why we're later."

"It's my fault," Serizawa couldn't help but say. If he didn't he might combust by holding it in. "I made us miss the connecting train." He shouldn't have made them stop at that station store, but the snow globes in their display window caught his attention. Remembering a conversation he'd had with Tome just last week, he decided they should get one for her as a souvenir. They ended up getting something for Shigeo too but had lost track of time in the process.

Yuuko waved away his remark in that typical way of hers. "Really, I'm just glad you're here. I thought something terrible might have happened. Or that you might have decided to return home after-" She cut herself off, ducking her head as if it was hard to maintain eye contact all of the sudden. It was the closest Serizawa had ever seen her come to embarrassment.

"That was my fault too," Serizawa said before Reigen could respond. "I sincerely apologize." He bowed to her to express his regret, and Yuuko gave him a small smile in return.

"Oh, I'm sure it's already forgotten about," she said, though she threw a hurried glance at Reigen, which gave Serizawa the impression it wasn't forgotten at all. "Your father has retired for the evening, tomorrow is an important day after all. We'll be having dinner with the other guests too, Suke's family." There was seemingly no connection between those two statements though Serizawa knew better by now.

"I'm sure we're both looking forward to it," Reigen deadpanned.

Serizawa swallowed again. the other shoe always drops eventually.

The atmosphere in the house was oddly chilly the following day.

If Serizawa didn't know any better he might have thought he was sensing the presence of a spirit, the temperature drops when near lingerings of the dead that could send shivers down your spine.

But instead, it was watching Reigen and Masaru glare daggers at each other across the living room.

"He's going to give me the silent treatment," Reigen had said that morning, struggling with getting his buttons done in his agitation. Serizawa was scared he was going to pop the top one off with how forceful he was being. "I'm willing to bet a whole week's worth of ramen trips on it. But two can play that game."

"What game?" Serizawa had asked, ever so innocently and blissfully unaware. Oh, how he missed that time.

"The game where he sees how long it takes for his behavior to annoy me into saying something stupid."

Serizawa nodded as if that was a perfectly understandable thing for Reigen to say while thinking that it really wasn't. Besides, you didn't have to ignore Reigen to get him to say something stupid either way. Then Serizawa had tried not to chuckle at his own inner musing.

All sense of laughter had long since left him.

Masaru had barely spoken to them all day, only greeted Reigen in the morning and continued ignoring Serizawa's very existence. The incident at the temple was not brought up again – only making things tenser for them. It was bad enough to know the other shoe would drop eventually but worse to not know when to expect the hit.

He distracted himself with anything he could. The dinner table was lavishly decorated with flowers and the finest table setting. Serizawa had helped Yuuko prepare it, as well as polish the cutlery in the kitchen all day, enjoying idle chatter about the weather and Reigen's childhood. Reigen himself had spent most of it on his laptop, claiming work obligations.

Yuuko had even shown him some pictures. Reigen at six years old, standing on the tips of his toes, displayed against a backdrop of flowers along the driveway and proudly showing off an elementary school uniform in dark navy hues. His small hands were stretched forward, waving at his mother behind the camera.

"Oh, what an adorable little boy he was," Yuuko had said as she placed the frame back on the dresser she kept it on. She seemed to enjoy having somebody to indulge with.

At the moment Yuuko was busy being the perfect host, offering people drinks and navigating through the room with practiced ease, as a dancer would move across the stage. Serizawa had volunteered to help with the serving - partly to avoid Reigen and Masaru engaging in more fierce staring matches, partly to keep from having to make awkward small talk with strangers - but since he was a guest himself she wouldn't hear of it.

Meaning Serizawa was left at the mercy of his own ineptitude at carrying conversations. To his endless relief Reigen's two other cousins, whose names Serizawa had learned to be Eisei and Ichita, were glad to do the hardest part for him. They must have inherited more of their father Kenichi's character, greatly over-appreciative of their own ability to regale others and be funny while doing so, merely less keen on being the center of attention. Serizawa decided not to ask them about any lingering resentment over their much younger sister marrying before them.

Today they had the willingness of a bored audience consisting mostly of estranged family members – of the Watabe's themselves and those of Suke's side of the family - who only met up for weddings and funerals. All Serizawa really had to do was nod along and try not to answer too many questions.

He managed to keep it up all the way through until Yuuko finally started asking the guests to be seated. To accommodate the larger number of people a second table had been carried in and pushed up against the one they typically used, an assortment of chairs magicked out of seemingly nowhere placed around them. In an odd way, it gave Serizawa the impression of a formal meeting room, though the picture was offset by the decoration and the amount of food. Once more he took his place next to Reigen, the two of them sitting across from Yuuko and Masaru. The couple to be wed had claimed the head of the table due to the formality of the event.

Kenichi stood up from next to his daughter, tapping a spoon against the side of his glass to fill the room with a loud ringing noise. Serizawa had seen people do so in the movies but wasn't aware it was something people actually did for real. Once he had managed to earn the table's complete attention and the other chatter had died down, he cleared his throat.

What proceeded to unfold then had to be the longest speech Serizawa had ever had the displeasure of witnessing. At more than one point he was afraid Kenichi must be running out of breath, only for the man to take a deep inhale and go on unperturbed. For all intents and purposes, he seemed to be recounting his proudest moments in chronological order and by the time he had gotten to gushing about Aiko's teenage years, several others were eyeing the food in clear longing or glancing at each other.

Yuuko had closed her eyes, either to listen more intently or because she had drifted off to sleep. When her brother was finally done, wiping away an emotional tear from his eye that nobody else shared, she opened her eyes and sighed gratefully. "Thank you, dear brother," she said, the kind of warm sarcasm dripping off her voice that could easily be mistaken for sincerity. Serizawa knew who Reigen must have inherited that from.

Keeping her own speech as the hostess short and to the point, Yuuko thanked everybody for coming and expressed her well-wishes towards the couple much the same way she had done on the first night. Some other elder family members followed her example, as was customary for the dinner held on the night before the wedding. Reigen had confined in Serizawa that there would be more elaborate blessings to follow at the reception itself. By the time it was all through, Serizawa didn't have to wonder why Yuuko had prepared solely cold dishes for the day.

Then finally, after expressing gratitude for the meal, they could dig in. Never before had he devoted himself so thoroughly to meticulously picking at and chewing his food, but Serizawa was approaching the point where he'd do anything to make the uncomfortable mood that had settled over their part of the table bearable. Pleasant conversation carried on around them, with a word occasionally directed at them that went answered with curt responses.

Reigen continued to stubbornly refuse to make eye contact with his father, while Masaru seemed intent on fixing his cold eyes on Reigen permanently. It was an odd display and one that might have been comical in its own right if it weren't for the fact that Serizawa knew it wouldn't last.

It was like a string pulled tautly. One little disturbance could make it snap.

In the end that disturbance came from neither Masaru nor Reigen. Either annoyed with their continued bullheadedness or perhaps because she herself could not stand the tension any longer, Yuuko broke the oppressive silence that had fallen over them.

"Arataka, I realize you might not have had enough time to come to a decision yet, but it certainly would be nice if you could give us your thoughts on the proposition." Her voice was soft, so as not to carry across the room, but with how engrossed everybody else was Serizawa couldn't see this being a problem.

Reigen finally looked up, locking eyes with his mother. "What proposition?" He was acting heedless on purpose, Serizawa could tell.

Apparently, Masaru could as well. "Do not start with us," he said sternly, the low hushed sound of a storm brewing on the ocean. More bark than bite, there had to be clear intent.

Not answering besides for an offhand hum, Reigen reached out for his glass.

"Your father would like to make an announcement about the business at the wedding tomorrow. As would I. We would really prefer an answer by then." Serizawa felt bad for how much effort Yuuko was putting into being diplomatic.

"Well-" Reigen put the glass back down, but his fingers remained curled around it. "I can give you one right now. I'm refusing."

A small pang of relief flooded Serizawa at those words. He knew it wasn't really any of his business, but truthfully he had been just the tiniest amount concerned. If Reigen had taken his parents' offer, what would have happened to the office? Would he have moved out here or to some other city?

Would they still have been able to see each other at all?

Yuuko was clearly caught off guard by the answer, but Masaru didn't twitch a single muscle, unsurprised at this development. He licked his lips before talking, uncannily similar to a predator filled with displeasure. "Do you have a reason, or are you just trying to spite me again?"

"Dear-" Yuuko shot her eyes over to him, skin paling and she might have been the one to pull the string but if so only because she could not have predicted the outcome.

"That's the reason you do anything, isn't it Arataka?" Masaru went on undisturbed, still dangerously low in pitch and if anybody else at the table was even noticing the turn in the atmosphere they were excellent at turning a blind eye. "Can't live with the idea of not reaching my standards so you'll make it so you can never disappoint me?"

Serizawa's knee bounced up and down, nearly hitting the underside of the table. He restrained himself.

Reigen pierced his father with a poisonous stare. "Have you ever considered your standards are not worth my efforts?"

Whether it was his own leg or Masaru's fist that hit the table first Serizawa would never know. No matter how intensely the other guests were debating their topics of choice, it was impossible to miss the way the plates clattered on the flat surface, the way Masaru slid his chair back hard enough to crack wood against wood. All eyes were on them now – and Masaru had center stage.

"Everything I've ever done has been for the betterment of this family. For the betterment of you." Where there was no rise in pitch, there was pure, fluid hate. Enough to make Serizawa's blood run cold, meaning for Reigen it must be a hundredfold worse. "Even now after entertaining all your foolish whims of running off and becoming your own man, chasing senseless employment with no future, we only want to help you. And you would throw that back in our faces?"

The words died down for Masaru to take a sharp breath. Reigen's mouth was pushed into a thin line, the very image of disinterest. But on the glass, his fingers were shaking.

Masaru was standing upright, looking at Reigen. Looking down at him. "Are you that intent on amounting to absolutely nothing?!"

Something pushed Serizawa into motion then. He didn't know how or why – maybe in looking back on it he could be regretful over his actions. But at the moment a certain sense of control had been lost and his own nails were digging into his palms, slick with sweat. "Do not say that!"

Even the very force behind his voice was unfamiliar to him. The world was spinning, his heart racing, and the last time he did this he had just run up several flights of concrete stairs. But it was the same still.

Serizawa suddenly missed his umbrella.

"D-do not say that-" He wanted to swallow but his mouth was dry as sawdust.

Then those pale gray's shifted to him, if looks could kill Serizawa would be gone and buried. "Do not get involved in this, you are not family," Masaru said firmly.

"I'm glad," Serizawa managed to shoot back with boldness often lost on him. "Leaving this house has to be the best thing Arataka has ever done."

Yuuko gasped – not a dramatic, loud inhale filled with self-pity but something small and smothered that would make Serizawa feel guilty if he wasn't too busy trying to keep himself in check. Masaru grasped her shoulder with one hand. "You have no idea what you're talking about, what do you know about us."

"I know I love him more than either of you ever will."

The glass closest to him shattered first, then a couple more across the table. All anger rushed out of Serizawa's veins in an instant, replaced by the crippling fear of his own powers he had thought he had put behind him, only exacerbated by Reigen cursing loudly beside him. Turning his head, Serizawa saw that the glass still within his grasp had broken into several pieces. Blood was running down Reigen's palm.

Serizawa blinked at it in dumbfounded horror.

"We need some air." Instantly Reigen was tugging at his sleeve, pulling at him and the outside breeze hit Serizawa with the comparable force of a speeding truck – not that he'd know what that would be like. He couldn't breathe.

"Hey!" Reigen's fingers pressed against his cheeks. Serizawa forced his eyelids open, not having realized he had closed them in the first place. "Are you alright?"

"Alright?" Serizawa repeated in a high-pitched squeak. "Wait, your hand-" He caught Reigen around the wrist to inspect the damage, but the cut was only an inch long and not very deep.

"I'm fine," Reigen said, closing his fist. "These tend to bleed a lot but it barely hurts. Now, are you alright?"

Finally, air rushed into Serizawa's lung again. He nodded. "Absolutely. I mean, no not at all, your parents are going to kill me. I can't believe I said that to them."

"They won't kill you," Reigen said. "I won't let them."

Trying to calm down by bringing his mind back to the present, Serizawa blinked a few times. Dusk was settling on the garden, offering the scene a warm glow. A few early fireflies floated across the air, gathering above the still surface of the pond. Their reflections flickered back at them. Reigen's eyes were even more beautiful than Serizawa could recall.

"You're not angry?" he asked.

Genuine surprise colored Reigen's reply. "Why would I be angry?"

"Your father-"

With a short laugh, Reigen went to brush his hair off his forehead but thought better of it at the last moment, probably aware he'd get blood in it. "He got what he deserved. Personally, I can't believe you saved me yet again."

Serizawa's heart skipped a beat, but he couldn't quite let himself show it. "But I-" It pained him even more to say what he was about to say. "I might have been carried away, with the love thing. Even with the pretending, I wouldn't want to have said something that made you uneasy."

"Uneasy how?" Reigen asked.

Realizing with increasing panic that there was no use beating around the bush, Serizawa decided to get it over with. It had been on his mind ever since this whole trip started, but he hadn't exactly had the opportunity to ask. It could be like ripping off a bandaid: nearly painless if you do it quick enough.

"It was a bit forward and uh, I'm still a man. I didn't know how you would feel," he admitted.

Reigen titled his head, narrowed his eyes. Serizawa would swear he could physically see him connecting the dots of what he was implying in an agonizingly slow manner. When he realized to the true meaning, he seemed caught between deciding if he should be laughing or taking this seriously. "You thought I would mind? You do realize I asked you to come here to pretend to be my date, right Serizawa?"

"I don't know!" Serizawa defended himself, but he could already feel his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. "That's still only pretending, I just assumed you-"

I just assumed you were straight as a board, is what Serizawa could have said if he hadn't realized how silly that would have sounded.

"No, I don't mind," Reigen had made up his mind about which reaction was more appropriate then and was laughing a little. "It's not the kind of information I put on display, you couldn't have known. But since you agreed to come while thinking that, does that mean-"

"No!" Serizawa interrupted, probably a bit too hastily given their situation. He didn't want to think about why it was suddenly vitally important to him Reigen knew he didn't swing for the right team either. "No I uh, I don't have much experience yet but, I wouldn't mind."

Whether he was saying he wouldn't dating any man or dating Reigen specifically was left unspoken.

"Good," Reigen said then. His injured hand was still caught in Serizawa's hold, loose enough to pull away but for some reason, Reigen didn't seem to be in a hurry to do so. His other fingers lingered against Serizawa's cheek. A cricket in the long grass chirped loudly, but barely audible over the rushing in his ears.

Serizawa wasn't sure why they hadn't moved yet.

He leaned forward a bit, experimentally, his head angled downward and Reigen was just staring at him, eyes dark and unreadable. Maybe he had to push up on his heels to breach the gap between them but Serizawa was certain he could meet him halfway.

Before any of that could happen the outside shoji slid open.

Serizawa pulled back so fast he nearly tripped over his feet and fell butt-first into the pond. There was something unbearably empty about the way Reigen left him. Yuuko was standing in the door opening, face caught in both worry and guilt and with a small first aid kit in her hands.

Reigen approached her and as they started talking – as Reigen offered her the small cut to patch up – Serizawa still couldn't move.

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