Chapter Text
Reigen took his time waking up. He took his time stretching his sore limbs, he took his time sitting up, and opening his eyes. He squinted at the ground without really focusing on it. Was the floor always so cleared of debris?
His eyes felt really dry, so he must have fallen asleep with his contacts in again. Shoot.
He sighed, and reminded himself that he had to stop doing that, because at this rate he’d go blind in less than a year. He waited a few seconds, just sitting on the couch, socked feet on the floor. The eye drops he kept in his bathroom cabinet felt like they were miles away, instead of just down the hall, on the left.
He rubbed his eyes gently, making sure that the contacts weren’t stuck to his eyes.
It took a little coaxing, but the dry contacts released their hold on his corneas, both of which seemed to be unharmed. Every time this happened, he was always afraid that they wouldn’t come off, that they’d damage the front of his eyeballs. So far, it hasn’t happened yet, and that was good enough for him right now. He didn’t know much about the science behind eyes. Reigen dropped his hands from his face, still not really focusing on anything.
He took in a large breath over several seconds, filling his lungs completely, and released it all in a long whoosh of air. His back was sore from falling asleep on the couch again, but that was nothing compared to the discomfort radiating from his eyes.
He might as well deal with this now, it wasn’t as if the itchiness in his eyes would go away on its own. Bracing his hands on the couch, he rose to his feet in one swift motion. Getting up so fast made him a little light-headed, and his vision started tunneling, so he paused for a moment, waiting for the feeling to disappear, leaning on the arm of the couch.
He ran his free hand down his face absently. It was so clean in here. It was probably cleaner than it’d been in, what, years? Amazing. He’d have to thank the kid again.
What day was it again? ...Saturday. Was there anything he was planning on doing today? Getting groceries, maybe... and taking care of the magic child. Mob. Right.
Speaking of... Reigen looked towards the tiny little door in the baseboard. It looked no worse for wear, and there was no sign that the kid might be in there. Not that there would be any sign. Maybe he could check to see if it was locked.
But then memories from last night flooded his head, and he looked at the other couch, where Mob had been last night. There was the pile of kitchen cloths, its’ occupant nowhere in sight. The tiny shoelace/fishhook contraption was put back together, surprisingly. When had the kid had time to do that? Had he been up all night?
Reigen’s eyes caught movement on the far end of the couch he was looking at, and he met the gaze of the child, who was staring apprehensively, pressed up against the armrest. He looked as if he was waiting for Reigen to notice him, and now that that had happened, he was now waiting for the man to make a move. Mob chewed his lip anxiously, toes curling in his makeshift shoes.
Reigen cleared his throat of sleep, not used to having to talk so soon after waking up. He swallowed once, before taking in a breath.
“Erm, hello.” He said with a croaky voice. It almost sounded like he was getting sick. “Have a good sleep?” There, a little less croaky that time.
Mob blinked at being addressed, pulling at one of his sleeves. “...it was fine.” He said, pausing for a moment. Then he seemed to catch himself, and added, “how was, um, your sleep?”.
“Not too bad, actually. My eyes hurt, but that’s my own fault. I’m gonna go deal with that real quick, but first did you, uh...” How was he supposed to entertain a kid? Kids liked tv, right? “Did you want me to turn on the tv?” He asked.
Mob waited an extra second before answering. Maybe he wanted to make sure he wasn’t interrupting. “Okay,” the kid said, peeling himself off the side of the couch. He leaned down and picked up the homemade grapple, looping it expertly several times before hooking it onto his belt. He walked a bit closer, and sat down in the middle of the farthest couch cushion.
Reigen glanced around the living room. You’d think now that it was so clean, it would be harder to lose things. That seemed to not be the case, as the remote was nowhere in sight. He searched between the cushions, finding some change, some lint, and a peanut.
When was the last time he had peanuts?
He didn’t even like peanuts that much.
He was getting off track.
Remote, right. He searched the coffee table next to the couch, which held some papers (neatly sorted and stacked by yours truly, thank you very much) and a lamp, which was currently off. No remote here either.
He was distracted by a bright swirling glow, coming from something underneath the couch. The blues and purples clashed against the bright yellow of the rising sun, almost overpowering it. The object slid out from underneath the couch, and revealed itself to be the remote. As the colors faded, he saw out of the corner of his eye Mob, who now had a hand pressed to his forehead, eyebrows furrowed.
“Hey, hey, you’re supposed to be resting, remember?” Reigen snatched the remote from the ground, before pointing it at the boy, a good natured smirk on his face. He then levelled it at the tv, jamming a thumb down on the power button. “You shouldn’t be using your energy all willy-nilly like that. But thanks, though. Saves me from looking all over the place.” He looked back at the boy-
...who had a rather terrified expression on his face. Reigen blinked. He didn’t expect that level of fear, or fear at all. Was it something he said?
Mob shivered, having stood up and backed away, hugging himself. He shook his head, not breaking eye contact, and even from across the room Reigen could tell that he was breathing hard. “I’m- I’m sorry I didn’t mean- t’to- I- I won’t use them again, I-“
“Woah, woah, it’s okay.” Reigen said, cutting off the rambling apologies. He muted the tv and put the remote down, before reaching out a placating hand, hoping to show good will. “It’s alright, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant I didn’t want you to push yourself just yet, you know, with the whole head injury thing.” Reigen tried for a gentle smile. “It’s alright, just breathe. I’m not mad, I swear.”
Mob was still shaking, but seemed to be listening. He tried to control his breathing, short, stuttering breaths slowly fading into normal ones. He closed his eyes for a moment, holding his head with shaky hands. He focused on breathing.
They both waited for a minute or so, while Mob calmed down some. Reigen bit his lip, unsure. “Did you need anything? Maybe some water, or something? ...Tea?” Tea always helped.
Mob had his eyes scrunched closed, and Reigen wasn’t sure if he could hear him. He squinted at Reigen through the pain in his head. “Um... water, please.” He said with a small voice.
Reigen gave a reassuring smile, using the couch as leverage as he stood up. The little thimble was beside the sink, having been washed last night in Reigen’s mad cleaning frenzy. He turned the tap on cold, and waited a few seconds for the water to reach proper temperature (it always started out as lukewarm, having sat in the pipes all night.) He tested the stream of water with a finger, and flicked it off into the sink. He brought it back over to Mob, who accepted it with a meek “thank you”, bringing it to his lips.
“Not too fast,” Reigen warned. “Don’t wanna upset your stomach again.”
The boy nodded as best as he could while the thimble blocked his face, drinking slower. He didn’t stop until he drained the whole thing. Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he handed the tiny glass back to Reigen, who accepted it.
He placed it on the coffee table, and headed for the washroom. His eyes were really starting to hurt, stupid contacts. A small voice reminded him that this was his fault in the first place, for falling asleep with them in. He ignored it.
-
Mob heard Reigen shuffling around in the washroom for a few minutes, followed by the shower turning on. Okay, so now he had a few minutes to himself.
His heart was still beating abnormally fast, and Mob places a hand over his chest, and concentrated on trying to slow it down. Each beat of his heart made his head hurt, a steady thump-thump-thump against his brain.
He wasn’t supposed to use his powers. At least until his head got better. That would be easy enough, right? He didn’t use his powers for much anyway. Usually for emergencies, or on tasks that required a bit of extra effort.
Mob wondered why Reigen didn’t want him to use his powers. Sure, he had said that he shouldn’t push himself, but that could have been a lie. Maybe he thought they were scary, or dangerous.
Mob ducked his head, thinking about yesterday.
How much of a mess everything was.
It was possible that after he had passed out, the blond boy had gone on a rampage, destroying the apartment. That didn’t seem too far out of character for him.
But then he thought about just how much damage there was, and how he’d seen this one time before, a few years ago...
-
Shigeo and his brother were just about done for the night, having reread a few of the books that had been left on the ground, in easy reach. It was getting to be early in the morning, but they only had a few pages left. Shigeo read them out loud to Ritsu, going mostly from memory. He made sure to not be too loud, just loud enough so Ritsu could hear him over the noise of the heater nearby. Shigeo held an orb of light in his hand, using his powers as a small portable light to cut through the dark and allow him to see the pages.
Just then, padded feet toddled clumsily down the hallway. The boys froze, eyes trained on the corner of the living room, where the room gave way to the hardwood of the hallway. From around the corner, the human child, clad in pink pajamas, waddled through the living room, passing them by without a second thought.
Ritsu tugged on his sleeve. “Brother, we need to hide! Now!” He hissed, breaking Shigeo out of his trance. He blinked once, and the both of them sought shelter under the reclining chair. Sliding underneath, they hid under it for a moment. Their curiosity got the better of them, and they couldn’t stop themselves from peeking out from underneath it.
They both heard the kitchen cupboard open on squeaky hinges, and some rustling from within. The kid was probably grabbing a snack, or something. Normally she slept through the night, why was she awake now?
Shigeo thought for a moment. What would his parents do? Would they risk sprinting to the kitchen island, hoping to lock the door behind them before the kid noticed? Or would they wait here until she was gone?
“Shige, what do we do?" Ritsu pressed, fear evident in his features. He was relying on his big brother to come up with a plan.
Shigeo gulped, pressing a finger to his lips. Ritsu seemed to understand, nodding and keeping his mouth shut. They both turned their heads towards the kitchen, again looking out from underneath their hiding place.
And they saw the girl, a few feet away, staring at them. The crackers fell from her hand.
They all stopped, two terrified sets of eyes meeting one set of curious ones. The girl walked forwards on clumsy legs, much faster than the boys had anticipated for someone of her age.
“Run!” Shigeo yelled, turning and crawling as fast as he could from underneath the furniture. Ritsu was barely an inch behind, but he felt hands grab his leg, twisting it at an odd angle, grip crushing. He scrabbled at the floor for some handhold, but found none on the hardwood surface.
Ritsu was snatched out from underneath the chair, dangling by one leg only. He was brought inches from the girl’s face. He could hardly breathe as he was forced to meet her gaze. His leg was starting to go numb.
Shigeo had to act now. "HEY!” He shouted, a few feet away. He waved his arms frantically, trying to get her attention. And he got it.
The girl turned and looked at him with wide eyes, dropping Ritsu, who fell from her grasp to the floor. He tried to catch himself, but couldn’t stop himself from falling headfirst to the floor. He hit the floor head-on, and Shigeo knew that there would be stars dancing in his vision. They heard an ear-shattering screech from the girl, who walked excitedly over to Shigeo. He turned to run, but the glossy pages of a book on the floor slid out from underneath him as he ran across it, sending him tumbling. She caught up with him easily, grabbing him by his middle, babbling at him.
Shigeo struggled to breathe, gasping against her crushing grip, and tried to pry her hands off of him with tiny fingers, but he was no match.
Switching tactics, he swung around in desperation and bit the closest finger he could find, drawing blood.
She shrieked, wailing at the pain and the sight of blood, and hurled Shigeo at the nearest wall. When his brain finally caught up with him, his head had crashed into the wall, and his vision faded to black.
He woke not a few minutes later, and found himself still in the living room, which looked almost demolished. Every book was on the floor, pages ripped out, settling down around him like giant snowflakes. Windows were broken, and cold winter air blew in from outside. A lamp nearby had shattered, along with the overhead lights. Shigeo whipped around, catching sight of his brother, pinned between two large, tattered tomes. He rushed over, is that blood...?
“Shige...” Ritsu was crying, and a substantial amount of blood poured from a wound on his head, staining the books and the floor. “Shige, it hurts... it hurts...”