Chapter Text
For all that the whole incident with the Third Division was a mess, some good did come of it. Teru not only found a rival in Mob, but a strange aggressive friendship with Ritsu. That meant that, for all that Ritsu might gripe and complain about Teru hanging around, he secretly enjoyed his company. They were all friends, in their own way.
Muraki and Sakurai—along with a few other ex-Seventh Division Scars—did eventually make their appointment and, for all that Reigen couldn't shake some of them calling him shishou, he at least got most of them on the right track to being a normal, healthy adult. Some of them still kept him up to date on their job applications and apartment hunting endeavors—which was useful since Reigen was a reference for most of them and did a lot of finagling to make their resumes look desirable without lying too much about their experience.
Tsuchiya and Mukai would sometimes come by to hang out (read: pester Reigen and Dimple) but for all his over-the-top complaints about the visits, they were a welcome distraction and Tsuchiya made for an excellent deterrent for some of the more...troublesome customers.
Mob, for all that he had wanted to be 'normal, seemed perfectly content with how things were after the Third. In fact, he seemed more emotive than before, his outbursts fewer and more far between than they used to be. Something about being without his powers for as long as he was seemed to have made him understand them better. Sometimes, when Ritsu or Teru asked him, he would idly say something about them 'coming to an agreement', whatever that meant. Only Reigen seemed to understand the personification Mob was doing and even he brushed off any questions directed towards him.
While it took a couple days for everyone to recover from the whole debacle—Reigen himself was particularly sore (and also there were the many talks between him, his neighbors, and their landlord about the 'faulty gas line' that exploded half their complex)—everything managed to finally settle back in their prior groove. The only scarce differences between before the Third and after were exactly who was helping Reigen out with the actual exorcisms and psychic parts of Spirits and Such. Mob still came by most days when he didn't have the Body Improvement Club, Teru filling in for him on those days and sometimes even doubling up so Reigen didn't even have to do his usual showy spiel, but also Ritsu would come by from time to time—under the guise of 'checking up on his brother and his fraud of a shishou'—to aid in exorcisms, purifications, or just assisting Mob with his homework.
Spirits and Such had never been so full before and, for all that Reigen would complain about the lack of privacy, he secretly appreciated the company. Even Dimple.
In spite of having returned Mob's powers, Reigen remained psychically sensitive, able to see auras, ghosts, and curses even without the power to take care of them, which overall helped his sales-pitch as well as allowed him to determine if this was an issue he could handle or not. Nothing sold a fake psychic quite like being able to actually identify when there was a real problem and what it looked like.
For all that the Seventh Division had defected, the general consensus among the group—the ex-Scars of the Seventh, Mob, Teru, Ritsu, Reigen, and Dimple—was that, just like Ishiguro disappearing into nowhere with little news as to what happened to him, it was very likely that Ebiwara and their Scars would tuck their tails between their legs and disappear back into the hubbub of Claw. It was very unlikely that they would say a word about how they'd been beaten, or that they'd even admit to trying to take over the Seventh's place in Seasoning. Their pride couldn't handle it and, according to the ex-Scars among their group, it would garner some very bad attention from the Boss, who wouldn't take kindly to them not only trying for a grab, but failing.
So it could be said that everything went back to normal, insofar as there was a normal when one was a fake exorcist with a real psychic disciple. Nothing out of the ordinary as far as they were concerned.
"Don't worry," Reigen waved a hand at the customer, "my disciple and I will take care of this curse no problem." The curse in question—centered on the customer's eyes—warbled and hissed, tendrils of awful sickly green and black energy reaching to hurt anyone who came near. "It won't restore your eyesight, of course, but it will halt the degradation. And I can even refer you to an optometrist to help with your recovery and eyesight free of charge."
Mob raised his hand, mimicking the flashy way that Reigen had exorcised curses when he had powers, and grabbed onto the curse with a hand made of his own bright aura. The awful thing shrieked and writhed, digging its claws deeper into its anchor point on the customer, but a pulse of energy dissolved its roots and Mob plucked it free. Then he crushed it in his psychic grasp, sparks of energy visible to even the customer, and it was gone.
The customer took the reference and handed Mob the payment for the exorcism, grateful to not need to worry about any more damage. Then he left and they were alone at last.
Or, as alone as someone with a cranky spirit haunting them could be.
"Y'know, you could just let me eat them!" Dimple wheedled.
"And get indigestion, forcing me to suffer through you complaining about it all week? Nah." Reigen waved his hand at Dimple, pushing him to the side a little. The spirit huffed, but Reigen ignored him and looked at his schedule. Thankfully it was clear for the next few hours. "Oi Mob, wanna get lunch?"
Mob looked up from his homework, a soft smile on his face. "Can I invite Hanazawa and Ritsu?"
Reigen considered if his wallet could take the hit. He reluctantly nodded. "Sure. But you'd better tell Hanazawa that it's one topping only, okay?"
"Okay." Mob pulled out his phone and began furiously messaging them both.
"You sure you can afford it?" Dimple leered at Reigen, goading him a little.
"Yeah, I'm sure." Reigen sniffed derisively. "We've had a lot of customers recently and I can afford to splurge a little."
Dimple phased through Reigen to sit on his other shoulder, smirking. "Your loss."
Reigen wrinkled his nose, sniffing suddenly. Then he sneezed, throwing his head forward so hard he got whiplash. Something nearby shattered and all three of them—Reigen, Dimple, and Mob—looked towards the noise. One of the many cheap vases that decorated Spirits and Such had shattered against the wall, flickering motes of pink and green glittering on its surface.
"Oh." Reigen sniffed, stifling another sneeze. A second vase fell over, rolling a bit before stopping at the edge of the shelf. Dimple smirked at him.
"Looks like you didn't give all of it back, huh?"
"It's fine," Reigen dismissed him, "I can get used to this. Let's go eat, yeah? I'll clean it up later." Besides, he'd already had powers once. If these were truly his, they'd be easier to adjust to than Mob's had been.
So the three of them closed up office and went to lunch, leaving all of that for a later date.