A/N: IT HAS BEEN 12 CHAPTERS BEFORE HAY BOI FINALLY SHOWS UP. (Sadly without the wig.)

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"Are you nervous, Niisan?"

Mob paused from eating his ice cream. Ritsu made a little 'blep' face with his tongue and took a lick from his own cone, shivering as the cold ice cream grazed his teeth.

"Nervous?"

"This is your last year of elementary school, Niisan!" Ritsu clarified. "Aren't you nervous about starting middle school next year?"

"Oh… maybe a little," Mob admitted, holding his ice cream like he was hiding behind a bouquet of flowers. "There will be a lot of new people…"

"But, in two years I will get to go with you!" Ritsu reminded him, and it made Mob feel a little better. "I'm going to try and be in the student council."

"I'm sure you'll get in." Mob recognized Ritsu, despite being more grizzled and serious than any other child he knew, had always been well-liked by his peers. "Maybe you'll even get to be president someday."

"You think so?" Ritsu contemplated, and again made that tongue-out face he always did when he had sweets. "The student council president of Salt Middle School…"

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Mob heard about him before he saw him.

"Did you see the new boy in the other class? So cute!"

The girls almost knocked into him—he blended in so well to the early morning rush that they did not notice him amongst the crowd. Mob closed in on himself sheepishly, mouthed a soft 'Sorry' to them, but they noticed none of it. They were too engrossed with clinging together and speaking as a single unit.

"The one with the blonde hair?"

"Yes!"

Mob wondered who they were talking about.

By lunch time, Mob learned his name was Teruki Hanazawa. Mob heard the chatter about him while he ate his mozuku seaweed and black vinegar sauce (Reigen was not nearly as good at making bento as his or Ritsu's mother, but boy, did he try). Reigen had forgotten to taste if he had washed all the salt out of it, and Mob was forced to put aside the bitter seaweed in favor of the cheeseburger with the little ketchup heart. (He would feel guilty about wasting it, though, and eventually eat it anyway.)

"I heard that Hanazawa-kun used to play soccer for his other school," the girl who sat next to Mob said to her friend. "That means he's pretty good, right?"

"I guess we'll see when our classes play against each other!"

Mob's arm locked up. He had forgotten that was today.

Nothing: absolutely nothing sports-related went well for Mob. Whether it be tripping over himself while swinging the racquet in tennis, fainting from fatigue while sprinting, or nearly drowning while doing swimming laps and the school having to call Reigen in from meeting with a client, Mob met trouble from his physical weakness and athletic inability almost daily. His classmates came to expect it by now: his vigorous attempt, and equally spectacular failure.

It was worse when Tsubomi-chan saw.

A merciful deity smiled upon Mob that day, for Tsubomi's class was occupied in the adjacent field. Mob got the briefest glimpse of her in her cute power-pink gym clothes as she took her position on the field. He felt the red burn on his cheeks, and he practically folded under the great weight of his affection. Maybe, one day…

"Look! There's Hanazawa-kun!"

The message wasn't meant for him, but Mob jerked his eyes up nonetheless. If Teruki Hanazawa was the boy on the opposite side he did not recognize, then the girls in the morning were correct: he was blonde.

Blonde in a showy way; blonde in a way almost too intentional. Blonde to match a part—a niche, a standing, a role in life—although Mob did not know why that would be.

He stood in a radiance of confidence: a boy who felt he conquered the world and showed it in his movement. That intimidated Mob so much that he downcast his eyes to Teruki's shirt, and he did not fully see the sly expression and flirtatious gesture of his fingers that made the girl closest to Mob peep and hide her blushing face. His resulting smile was like a panther, and warning signals went off as Mob sensed something with the atmosphere was wrong.

"Ready? Go!"

Mob was frightened further by the teacher blowing the whistle and starting the game. The beginning scuffle led to the ball sailing towards the opposing net, and Mob hurried with all his might to position himself in a better way to counter someone launching it back.

Like Teruki.

He went for the ball in a way that was too… unreadable. He seized control of the ball as effortlessly as kicking up dead leaves, darting in a full loop that left those running for the net reeling to turn around. He moved with grace and power Mob had never seen in the sport before, with the ball not so much as kicked as guided to glide across the grass. Teruki zipped by the oncoming defenders with another misguiding and odd movement. He reached the center of the field, and Mob's skin began to tingle.

Oh. That was it. He was using telekinesis.

The otherworldly power showed with the lightest yellow sheen on the ball. Mob saw now that when Teruki's feet moved, the ball followed, more like a marionette on a string than a free-rolling sphere.

Now. That wasn't fair.

Teruki continued his warpath in Mob's direction. Almost by instinct, Mob swerved to counter him, meeting him at an angle neither had planned.

The clash was more like a soft explosion of flower petals. Or, rather, something like it, because Mob crashed to the ground trying to steal the ball. The softness came when their psychic powers met: a gentle frequency from Mob that dispersed Teruki's grip on the ball. The unexpected disconnection startled him, and in his confusion his foot rolled over the top of the ball and caused him to lose his balance. His momentum switched suddenly to falling, and Mob gave a cry as he toppled onto him.

It took a moment for Mob to realize Teruki's knee had smacked the back of his head, and the headache as a consequence. Mob whined at the pain, and Teruki wasted no time bouncing back onto his feet, in an almost fearful manner, like Mob were a hot branding plate. Mob vaguely recognized the teacher blowing the whistle for a time-out as he held his head and peered up.

Teruki wore an absolutely disgusted look. So apparent were his feelings that Mob's heart dropped, and Teruki took two steps back. Never before had Mob seen someone look so appalled and offended, yet scared, at the same time.

Mob had desecrated something sacred: Teruki's pride.

Mob did not know he felt sick until he was throwing up on the grass. A few children retched themselves at the sight and turned away, Teruki using the opportunity to flee to his side of the field and the teacher arriving to take control of the situation. He called to another teacher to watch the class before helping Mob up by the arm, guiding him with soothing words and a slow pace towards the nurse's office.

"We'll get you some ice, okay? Then we'll call your guardian to come and take you home."

Why did it always have to end up like this?

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After a nap and a cup of ginger tea, Mob felt much better.

He spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing in his window nook in Reigen's office, watching him tend to clients who came with a stiff back or shoulders. Mob made himself buttered toast while Reigen finished. He had to wait to tell him all that had happened.

"I think he was an ESPer like me," Mob explained the new student Teruki Hanazawa. "I think he moved the ball with telekinesis."

"That's not fair," Reigen spoke what Mob had thought, and sighed. "But, I suppose we cannot expect everyone to have high morals. Even other ESPers."

"Mob— " Reigen stuck out his pointer finger. "Don't think just because others do things that it's okay. You should act on your own judgement."

"I try, Shishou," Mob replied meekly (he really did try).

"I don't want you getting into any fights," Reigen tacked on, maybe more stern than he needed to be with dear peaceful Mob. "You should try to guide him, not confront him. People can change, but it should be on their own terms."

Mob sure hoped so. He turned his head and gazed out the window, where the trees blew in the wind and the grass had grown back in the graveyard.

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To any regular passer-by, the graveyard fence looked the same as it had. But the man was no regular passer-by.

He touched his fingers to one of the metal poles. A blue spark twinkled at his fingers like static left in clothing. He pulled his hand back and looked at his first two fingers, rubbing his thumb over them experimentally.

Interesting.

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A/N: This is a little introduction to our beloved Teru! More of him next chapter!