The fifteen-minute walk back to the consultation office seemed longer than the original walk to the café. Maybe, Reigen thought, it technically was longer, considering his legs were shorter than they were earlier.

Musings such as this buzzed through his head as he strolled next to Mob. He led the way, not paying any mind to his professional sort of saunter, one hand in his pocket and the other hooking Mob's schoolbag over his shoulder. It was how he always walked (sans bag). However, with his newfound lack of height, he realized he started to fall behind.

He scowled at having to rush to catch up. Now they can't even walk correctly anymore? After all, Mob never had trouble keeping up with Reigen on a normal day.

A few minutes passed like this, silence hanging between them. Even though he was still feeling a faint thrum of lingering soreness from…whatever was the source, it gradually concentrated along his spine. He rolled his shoulders and shifted uncomfortably, finding that standing a little taller alleviated the excess pressure. Reigen understood that he wasn't using the body his habits were made for, but walking? Just walking to a destination was going to be an issue now? The movies never addressed this….

Well, if ambling along like himself wasn't what this body wanted to do, then maybe he should try walking like Mob: collected, inconspicuous, proper.

It worked. It seemed weird to his mind, but physically it felt natural. Reigen frowned at the mild disconnect that caused.

He had fallen a few steps behind again, but having just found a comfortable gait, he didn't change pace. Instead, he focused on the man—or boy, really—in front of him. He was tall, a fact that only served to make Reigen feel short. His sandy orange-blond hair, while lighter in color than much of the country's populous, appeared darker than he remembered. Did his hair always look like that?

Well, maybe it did. Reigen had only seen his hair before in the mirror and in photographs, both of which could easily alter his appearance depending on the lighting. This, however, was the real deal.

Reigen's stomach turned. He was actually looking at the back of his own head. He was walking behind his own body. How many people could say they've done that?

He dropped his focus to the sidewalk. It didn't make it much better, as the feet landing in front of him in a steady rhythm were nestled in white sneakers. Right. Mob's shoes, not his. Mob's clothes, Mob's bag, Mob's hands even.

Mob's hair, too. Remembering his thought process at the café, he twirled a lock of hair around his finger. It was just as silky as he expected. He pushed his bangs back, running his fingers through the fluffy bowl cut. The early naggings of guilt made him pause. This guilt was an intriguing sensation he thought would never come from his hair—but then again, it wasn't really his hair right now.

He shook his head, dislodging the roundabout train of thought as well as any tangles left in his hair. It happened, it's done, and being caught up in trying to process it wasn't going to help anyone. Focus on the positives instead.

At least they were acquainted already. Reigen didn't have to worry about leaving his body to a stranger of unknown trustworthiness. He also was a successful con man and knew enough of Mob's mannerisms that he could pull off a decent impression if he needed to. Mob's family might be tough to fool, but with anyone else, he'd just have to be quiet and keep any gestures and body language to an absolute minimum.

He also could use psychic powers. Whether it was because some of Mob's powers stayed behind or what, he didn't know, but he'd have been lying if he said he wasn't at least a little excited to have them. With a bit of focus, he called the warm aura into view around his hand, watching one of the ethereal golden spires roll over his palm.

Looking back at Mob's blond head, Reigen grinned; it didn't feel as easy as it would have on his own face. He spied the ends of sandy orange hair lying against pale skin and, trying to concentrate the psychic energy to his fingertips, flicked the air. The result was negligible, shifting his hair as if the force were no more than a light breeze, but it caught Mob's attention. He turned, briefly confused before dropping his gaze to find Reigen.

"Shishou?" he inquired, pausing a moment to let the shorter catch up.

Reigen waved him off. "It's nothing. Just messing around with the new, erm, situation."

"Ah, okay."

They lapsed into another silence. The con man was beginning to get irked by the quiet as well as his much-too-stiff walk when his student asked again, "Um, Shishou, if I may…?"

Finally, some conversation. "What's up, Mob?"

Mob was distinctly looking away from him at the sidewalk, eyebrows slightly drawn together. After a moment, he said, "I don't think it's healthy for your muscles to have this many knots at your age."

He barely managed to stifle his laugh. "First Dimple, now you? Seems like everyone complains about my body but me."

"Ah, no, no!" Mob hastily apologized. "It's fine, really. I'm just concerned because you're still young, but I feel so much older like this."

How old was the kid, fourteen? "I'm twenty-seven, Mob," Reigen told him, hand splayed over his chest. "While still relatively not-old, that's still almost twice your age, which means you're physically almost one hundred percent older than you were this morning, so of course you feel it!"

At the mere mention of numbers, Mob's expression started to go slack, overworked brain only managing an "Uh-huh" while trying to process.

"The point is," summed up his teacher, coming to a halt under the 'Spirits and Such' sign, "of course you feel older; you're just not used to it. I am, though, and I assure you, it's fine."

Mob still looked unconvinced, rolling his shoulders a bit, but Reigen had a greater issue on his mind. "So, Mob," he started slowly. "If we don't get this whole thing worked out soon—if Dimple isn't here, or if we can't switch back fast enough—would your parents require you to come home? Like, they wouldn't put up with you working a late shift and just staying the night with your trusty mentor so as to not worry them?"

"No, probably not. I have school tomorrow, and they wouldn't like it if I made such short-notice plans."

A quiet sigh escaped him. "That's what I thought," he relented before facing his office building.

He didn't even reach the door before Mob announced, "Dimple's not in there."

"You sure?"

Mob nodded.

"…What if we're both too weak right now to be able to sense him?"

Mob looked unconvinced. Reigen was also unconvinced, but they went inside and searched the office anyway. Four minutes later, back where they started, the ghost had unsurprisingly not been found, but at least they had put off the inevitable for a little bit longer.

Reigen steepled his fingers and took a deep breath. "Okay," he admitted. "Okay. Time for the ol' switcheroo." He pointed his hands at his attentive student. "You're going to have to go back to my apartment for the night. You've got my keys, my wallet, you know where it is; just take the train, and if you get lost, I can text you the address. Tomorrow, if you'd rather keep the office closed, I guess I can spare a day's worth of pay. Meanwhile!" He pointed back at himself. "I've gotta go relive my youth for a bit: do homework, go to school, family meals, all that."

"Should we tell Ritsu what happened?" Mob asked.

Ritsu. Oh shit, Ritsu. The kid already didn't like or trust him. If he found out what had happened to his brother under his supervision…

Maybe Ritsu wouldn't actually kill him when that would also kill Mob's body. Then Reigen remembered Ritsu was an esper now and much more creative than his brother; the older man didn't doubt the teen's ability to bypass physical damage yet still cause harm. "No," he announced. "No need to drag him into this as well. He would only worry about you."

His student didn't look happy about that decision, but he didn't object. He watched Reigen for a moment before his eyes drifted to the darkening sky. "I guess we should go soon."

"Yeah…." He could feel the beginnings of perspiration on the back of his neck. Despite his nerves, though, he clapped a firm hand on his disciple's shoulder, noting how he did not like having to reach up to do that. "Don't worry about it, Mob," Reigen told him with a smile. "You're an adult now, so play the part. You can do whatever you want."

Mob took a deep breath. He nodded. Then he mimicked Reigen's smile, making it look more like a half-smirk on that face. "Right you are, Mob," he agreed with just a touch more volume.

Wow, that's unsettling. He let go of his shoulder and laughed, if only to hide the discomfort. "Ah, alright then. Off to a good start, I see. So on that note—" Reigen slipped Mob's bag over his shoulder, tapped the toe of his shoe against the ground, and lifted a hand. "Good night, Shishou."

"Good night."

They parted, Mob going back the way they came toward the station. Reigen had brought Mob home a couple times when the boy was younger, so he was hoping he still remembered the way. It wasn't too far from the office.

The ache threatened to settle in his back again before he straightened up, grumbling all the while. He's a grown man, having been walking his whole life, and now he has to completely readjust everything. Can he not? He's psychic now; can't he just float?

He stopped, looking down at his feet. What if they were…not on the ground? Mob's white sneakers were starting to glow orange before he snapped his head up and continued walking at a brisk pace. "Nope, no, bad idea, very bad idea. I swear, I'm going to get this kid killed with my antics, and he isn't even here this time."

Caught up in trying not to be tempted to weigh the risks involved in testing various psychic powers, Reigen was at the Kageyamas' front door in no time. With a huff, he relaxed his face. Mob was calm. Mob wasn't emotional. And this is Mob's own family. Be as boring as anything, Arataka, he told himself.

He opened the door to find Ritsu standing just inside the hallway, holding a hand towel. "Oh, there you are, Nii-san!" he said. "You're home late."

Reigen swallowed before giving him a small nod. Voice flat and even. "We had to go a bit further into town for our job today."

Ritsu looked at him. Then a small smile appeared. "Well, you're back just in time. Dinner's on the table when you're ready."

"A-Alright."

The boy continued into the kitchen, leaving Reigen to release the breath he didn't know he had been holding. Okay, not bad. C'mon, you're a con for a living! This is just lying with a bit of acting behind it. You got this.

He hesitated, just a second longer, before he untied Mob's shoes and left them with his bag by the door. Brushing at his hair and adjusting his cuffs for good measure, he followed his 'brother' to the kitchen.


Alright, not where I was going to end it, but this went longer than expected, and next part is also long, so here ya go

On another note, if you're lookin' to read some ?% AUs/theories, I've got two up right now over on AO3 under the penname Silvensei. Let's see how long I can keep this writing streak going!