A/N: A pretty important announcement: Hi folks! Ya girl here decided to take two writing courses next semester, so this fic may have to take the back burner for a while! I may take some days left of my winter break to binge-write, so if the updates increase but the quality decreases, you know why.

We're in the home stretch now!

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If anyone noticed Teru and Mob's new friendship, they did not seem concerned about it.

No comment was made about the transfer student's habit of walking home with Mob, or his tendency to cut his conversation with whoever else when Mob walked by. To them, Mob still blended in, and the sociable personality of Teru always appeared much more interesting.

Mob hoped at least Tsubomi-chan would notice.

But, alas, she remained as distant and unconcerned as ever. A friend that ran more in her circle of peers did not impress her, and Mob's heart would drop when she completely bypassed him to greet Teru and the girl or boy he was talking to. Teru would say later not to lose heart—that, someday, their paths would cross again, and she could recognize Mob as the amazing person he was.

Mob would just have to try something else to get her attention.

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Mob fluttered from the cusp of sleep when he heard the rice cooker click on and smelled the hot steam as it began to waft up from the kitchen.

"Good morning! And what a lovely morning it is!"

Something like a small, glowing shopping bag darted towards his head. Mob blinked slowly as the thing appeared to grin at him with big teeth and purple lips, the top bit of it waving like a candle as it moved.

"Sleep well?"

It even spoke. Mob sat up and rubbed his eyes, the bag-like apparition floating from the floor to his face as he lowered his hands. He stared at it for a moment more before he decided what it was, and Mob took to grabbing it by the top bit and beating it against his floor.

"Wait! Wait!" the thing cried. "Please, stop!"

Mob stopped at its request. It managed to rise from the floor like a puttering bee, mumbling some words of pain and rubbing at its poor injured face.

"What was that for?" it demanded, giving Mob an accusatory look.

"I was trying to exorcised you," Mob replied unapologetically. "I don't like evil spirits around my house."

"Wait!" the spirit repeated his plea as Mob raised his hand to do away with him. "I came here to apologize!"

That got Mob interested enough to drop his hand. The spirit took long gulps of air he most certainly did not need and dusted off his chest (? Face?), clearing his throat and straightening up as best as something of his shape could.

"I want to apologize for putting you in danger, and for hurting your Grandma."

Mob cocked his head. The spirit flapped his little arms in frustration, spouting words like how a rooster crows.

"Don't you remember that night at the gate? You nearly sent me into oblivion! But, somehow I managed to pull some of myself together to… this state."

Yes, of course Mob remembered. He nodded and cast his eyes down to stare at his fingers outspread on his blanket.

"I had to protect the graveyard," Mob's voice hushed into something silky and soft. "And it made me really upset that Tome-san was gone."

"Yes, yes." The spirit tapped one of the red dots on his cheek sagely. "I underestimated you. I'm sorry for that too. But!"

The spirit opened up his arms and swung to the other side of Mob.

"That is all in the past! I think it's time for us to turn over a new leaf!"

Mob circled his head to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"Everyone has a dream," the spirit explained. "To be an idol, a movie star, an astronaut! My dream is to gain as much power as possible! I want to be a god!"

The theatric reflection did nothing to shake Mob's blank expression. "You're not doing a good job convincing me not to exorcise you."

"Let me finish!" The spirit motioned with his hands hastily. "I think it would be a good idea if we team up! We could be partners, so to speak! Rising to the status of gods will be much easier if we work together—Mob-kun, was it?"

Mob slipped out from under the blanket, doing his daily routine of rolling up his futon like the proposition was as trivial as deciding what channel to watch.

"I'm not interested. I think I'll just exorcise you."

"No, Mob-kun!" The spirit looked as if he wanted to cry and shielded his cranium. "I don't want to disappear! Not existing isn't any fun, you know! If you let me be, I promise I won't do any more bad things!"

Mob paused from tucking his futon in the closet. "You promise?"

The spirit hesitated, blinking like he could not believe that had actually worked.

"Ah… Yes! I promise I will not do any bad things from now on!"

"Okay." Mob slid the closet door closed. "I'll see what Shishou thinks."

"Shishou?" The spirit hovered over the door. "You mean that guy in the pink jumpsuit isn't your dad?"

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"Mob!" Reigen was, in fact, in the powder pink sweatsuit he used for pajamas. "You're just in time. The rice is almost done."

Mob stayed in the kitchen threshold. "Shishou, there's a spirit haunting me."

Reigen turned around from the rice cooker. The inquisitive quirk did not leave his lips as he looked from Mob, to the space around him, to Mob again, one eyebrow raising as Mob just stood there with no expression.

"Hum?"

"I was wondering what I should do with him."

"Ah, the spirit must be too weak for me to see," Reigen concluded. "You can handle those small fry on your own, can't you?"

"Yeah…" Mob took a step into the kitchen. "I can."

"Now, pick out what you want to put on your rice." Reigen brushed off the topic altogether as the rice cooker chimed. "And decide if you want apples or pears in your bento."

"Yes, Shishou."

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"Huh?" Teru leaned on his hip. "Is that your new pet, Mob-kun?"

"Pet?" The very much not ferocious little green spirit challenged. "I'll have you know I am The Almighty Dimple! I am going to be a god someday!"

"No," Mob spoke over the fuming Dimple. "It's an evil spirit."

"I can exorcise it for you," Teru offered. He lifted his finger, and Dimple looked so ready to fight that his aura quivered. Mob pushed the two apart by waving Dimple behind him.

"He said that he's not going to do any bad things, so I'm letting him stick around."

"Your kindness baffled me, Mob-kun." Teru laughed and pushed back his bangs. "But, if it's what you want, I won't question it."

They chatted for a while, and Teru bid Mob farewell, continuing towards the school with his bag slung over one shoulder. Dimple sighed deeply and rubbed at his cheeks.

"Jeez, how many psychics does this town have?"

Mob made his own way towards the school. "The only ones I know are Hanazawa-kun and Shishou."

"You actually believe that guardian of yours is a real psychic? He's more of a con artist!"

A brief, dangerous glint crossed Mob's eyes.

"Don't make me exorcise you."

Dimple decided not to bring up Reigen's credentials again.

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"What? You mean you've never heard of Keiji Mogami?"

Mob paused munching on his snack of gram crackers and milk.

"No."

"All spirits know about him—wait, I'm getting ahead of myself."

Dimple flickered to rest, a dark look shadowing his face.

"Long ago, there was a mystic named Keiji Mogami…"

Mob picked up his milk. "There's no need to be so melodramatic."

"Let me tell the story, Mob-kun!" Dimple puffed up, then chilled with the look of Mob's icy eyes. He smoothed his ruffled feathers and began again:

"Centuries ago, there was a powerful mystic named Keiji Mogami—a psychic like you, Mob-kun. He would do the deed of exorcising evil spirits for people, but along the way, he became twisted himself. He began to absorb the energy of evil spirits, so that when he died, he would become an evil spirit too. For many years he led the evil spirits of the world, until a band of monks worked together to seal him away for all of eternity."

Mob popped the straw out of his mouth. "So he became an evil spirit himself and hurt the world around him."

"Yes, but that is not the important bit!" Dimple swung closer. "It's rumored that whoever finds his resting place can gain access to his power! Imagine it! The power to rule over all the evil spirits in the world!"

"Ah," Mob hummed. "So that's why you wanted into the graveyard."

"Yeah, but I had a look around, and there's not much there." Dimple waved his hand. "Just the usual old souls wasting away in the ground."

"And," Mob added, "you promised me you would not do bad things, so there is no need for you to have that power."

If Dimple had blood, he may have flushed, but all he could do was protest.

"Don't you trust me? Wouldn't you rather me have that power than an actual evil spirit?"

He supposed he would, yes. But Dimple did not have to know that, and it was rather humorous watching him sulk and grumble as he bobbed about. Mob dunked another gram cracker in his milk and watched Dimple continue to complain, yet despite all the distractions, his mind wandered, and he was taken back to the day he found the plate in the ground and Serizawa guarding the tunnel.

Something terrible rests here.

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A/N: I had a ten minute conversation with my mom about whether or not you can smell a rice cooker cooking rice.