Work Text:
Tome stares at the piece of paper, the numbness in her chest finally catching up to her. It’s been awhile since this feeling’s come around, she realizes, standing, swaying slightly in the storage room of Spirits and Such. On the one hand it’s like she’s not all there, floating, drifting just off center of where she should be– on the other hand she feels like she could throw up and scream and cry all at the same time. It’s not a fun sensation, it’s been so long, she’s not sure she knows how to deal with this, what did she do last time, when was the last time this happened, why now, why at work, why, why, why–
It’s just not fair .
She knows why she’s feeling like this. Doesn’t make it right. Doesn’t help how she feels. Doesn’t make it fair.
Abstractly she thinks she feels her jaw tighten, teeth clenching, memories of the past 24 hours flashing in her mind’s eye– her mom, saying those ugly terrible words; those kids whispering their rumors and laughing their guesses. It’s not fair.
Even as she tells herself from a mile away that she’s not going to cry, not here, not staring at this meaningless piece of paper that Reigen had asked her to find, tears pool in her eyes and her hands are shaking– she feels numb, numb, numb. She hates this, hates this twisting thing in her stomach. A tear wells up and spills down her cheek and she can somehow sense that she should be breathing. But god, god, why? Why does her life have to be like this? She never asked for this, she never asked to be different, to be her, to be born–
“Hey, kid, you okay back here?” Reigen’s voice says, a league underwater. Breathing is a thing she should be doing now, she should be composing herself, this is unprofessional and stupid and embarrassing and it’s just not fair...
Oh. When did Reigen get closer... what’s he saying? She stares at him through eyes that don’t feel like hers. For hardly a moment she blinks– she’s sitting down now, on a storage box in the corner. She doesn’t question it, but the feeling and non-feeling still fight for dominance as she finally sucks in a needed lungful of air.
“There we go, there we go... try breathing with me, okay?” Reigen’s voice dials back into clarity. He’s kneeling in front of her, concern in his eyes, craning his neck to make eye contact with her. He breathes in, she breathes in; he breathes out, she breathes out. Inhale, inhale; exhale, exhale. Her breathing is rough and shaky but it’s better than not breathing. She breathes for a moment with him before she glances down at her hands (her hands? They don’t feel like her hands...)– her sorrow catches up to her and more tears overwhelm her.
She weeps.
Face hidden behind shaking hands, she cries, fully aware that Reigen is probably uncomfortable, not sure if he should try to comfort her but resorting to placing a hand on her shoulder. Her aching heart continues to break as she lets out the emotion, rocking slightly– if she’d bothered to wear makeup today she’s sure it’d be ruined by now. God, she hates crying in front of people, she hates this, she hates this… but it has to come out, this energy, this half-feeling, it has to come out somehow. She should’ve known it would manifest like this.
Long minutes pass before she takes a breath and wipes tears out of her red eyes. The sorrow is still there and she’s hiccuping, and her hands, now in her lap, are shaking. She stares at her hands– they still don’t quite feel like hers.
A miserable sniff is the only sound she makes, not daring to look at Reigen.
“Sorry,” she whispers, utterly quiet in the dusty backroom. The hand on her shoulder tightens only slightly before leaving. He drags another box over and sits across from her. She doesn’t want to look at him, doesn’t want to see the concern in his eyes.
“‘Sorry?’ Why are you apologizing?”
She shakes her head, trying to form a coherent string of words. “I– I dunno. Sorry you had to see that.” And, tacked on tactlessly: “I’m fine.”
He snorts. “That’s your worst lie yet, kiddo. People who’re fine don’t just space out and cry.” He glances at his watch and looks back at her. “We have about thirty minutes until we close up. You wanna talk about it?”
She blinks at him, and back to the hands in her lap that still don’t feel like hers. No, she doesn’t really want to talk about it. No, she doesn’t want to bother him with her troubles. No, she’s not fine.
But... who else can she tell? Certainly not Mob. Her friends might understand, but they’re all awkward as hell. The only problem is that she has no idea what to say.
She opens her mouth, hoping words would come tumbling out like they usually do, but she’s left with silence. She closes her mouth. Ugh, she’s got a terrible headache now.
“I... I don’t know what to say,” she mutters. Her boss looks at her for a moment and she looks back– he’s reading her, how he reads his clients, how he read her the first day she stepped foot into the office. She wipes away her tears and snot on her sleeve, dread and sorrow pooling in her gut.
“Why don’t we make some tea and move into the main room. If you want to talk about it, I’m all ears.”
She nods and everything moves as if it’s all trapped in amber– slow and warm and hard to peer through, bubbles of time escaping her until she realizes she’s sitting out on one of the chairs that are usually reserved for client consultations, and there’s a mug of tea steaming in her hands– is it burning her hands? She can’t tell. It must be because Reigen helps her set it down on the coffee table. Reigen refrains from testing his own tea. He always lets it get too hot when he makes it. The office is empty, except for them, and Serizawa, who watches curiously and cautiously from his desk, not sure if he should get up and join them or not. She knows (she knows) that this is a safe place for her to exist, that these people are kind and caring and good, but still– she worries. She doesn’t know how to start or what to say...
“I–” She screws her eyes shut, and forces the words out. “I’m gay.”
She keeps her eyes shut tight. She doesn’t know why she said that, doesn’t know why she started with that, and while she’s had her suspicions about Reigen, she has no idea how he’ll take this. Or, for the matter, how Serizawa will take this. Will they fire her? Will this paradise from ordinary life be taken from her? God, this was a mistake. Tears threaten to fall again, but she forces them down and finally opens her eyes.
The look on Reigen’s face isn’t something she’s used to. It’s… sorrowful, but happy, something bittersweet in his encouraging smile, something melancholy in his eyes. She opens her mouth to speak, stops, but Reigen nods as if to say, ‘it’s okay.’
“I’m gay, and I’ve known it for awhile now,” she says, her ears feeling full of cotton. “I think my friends know, but my– my parents don’t know. They’re not… they don’t like this kind of stuff. I know they care for me, and all that, but, they don’t know and sometimes they say things and they– they just say these really, really mean things and it hurts but I just have to nod along and I hate it so fucking much–” She grits her teeth and takes a breath. “Last night my mom said something… bad. It doesn’t usually bug me like this… well, it does but I can ignore it. But… some kids at school today, they said some mean things too and, and…” she trails off and looks up at Reigen. “Mr. Reigen, it hurts. I don’t want to be like this anymore.”
To her surprise, Serizawa stands up and joins them, standing slightly behind Reigen. Reigen inhales, humming thoughtfully and glancing briefly between her and back at Serizawa.
“I… I’m happy and honored that you feel comfortable enough around me to tell me this.” He sighs. “And, I’m so incredibly sorry to hear that you’ve been dealing with parents and people like that. I… know how you feel.”
She blinks at him. “You… you mean…?”
He shrugs nonchalantly, though he’s clearly a little embarrassed. He probably wasn’t expecting this sort of conversation. Or, maybe he was– he reads people like billboards. “Yeah, yeah, I like guys.” He laughs lightly and looks back up at Serizawa. “Specifically this guy, but don’t tell him I said that.”
Serizawa chuckles, and Tome can’t help her crooked smile at that. So her suspicions are true. That makes this… a lot cleaner than she expected it to be. She supposes she should be grateful for that. She wipes some rising tears out of her eyes and laughs a little, relief flooding through her numbness.
“You don’t have to feel ashamed of who you are,” Serizawa says when she’s taken some timid sips of her tea.
“Yeah– who you are is who you are. Your parents, your peers, they don’t have any say in that,” Reigen says. He says it in his ‘talking to clients voice’ but it sounds genuine. “And who you are is a delightful young woman who just happens to like other women. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Ah, and now she thinks she could cry again. She ugly sniffs and takes a sip of her tea. She furrows her brows in thought for a moment, and looks back at them.
“What… what do I do now?” She looks from Serizawa to Reigen, eyes pleading. Again, they look at each other for a moment before Reigen lets out a long sigh, and rubs stress out through his face.
“That’s a tricky question to answer. From what you’ve told me, it might not be advisable to come out to your parents or your classmates. Not at the moment, anyway. It… I know it’s hard right now, I know it sucks, but I’d rather you be safe with a roof over your head, ya know?”
She nods solemnly, wishing a thousand wishes that it could be fair.
“And, you know…” Serizawa says. “One day, you’ll be out on your own, you won’t have to depend on your parents, and, yeah there still might be some shiii ... not great people out in the world, but… you’ll be able to be yourself.”
“And we’ll always be in your corner, kiddo,” Reigen says, leaning forward in his chair with a genuine smile. “You ever just need to hang out you can say you got a text from me asking you to come in for work. If anyone messes with you, just know you got two and a half psychics backing you up.”
Tome snorts at that, even though her chest is welling with all sorts of emotions right now. “You’re the ‘half’ right?”
“What? No, Mob’s the half because he’s the shortest,” he says with mock indignance. Still, she doesn’t miss his wink or Serizawa’s eye roll. Her soft chuckle turns into a laugh, and they laugh too.
Letting her stress and tangle of emotions eek out with her long shaky exhale, she smiles at them. “Thank you. Both of you. I… thanks.”
Reigen reaches across and pats her on the shoulder with a simple ‘no problem, kiddo’– but before anyone can go back to what they were originally doing, Serizawa sweeps them both up in a big hug. Tome’s used to hugs from Serizawa– he’s one of the few adults she knows who freely and honestly gives them out –but this hug feels different and special, and there’s a hum in the air that feels prideful and happy. She hugs him back, telling herself she’s not going to cry again, and Reigen hugs her too, a little more hesitant but genuine nonetheless.
They part with awkward smiles, and Tome teases Reigen about his own watery eyes. Reigen brushes it off and diverts their attention to the time– ten minutes till closing.
“Why don’t we call it a day and close early? I’ll treat you two to some Celebration Ramen, yeah?”
Tome nods. “That sounds good.”
The three of them file out of the office with their things, their bookbags, their coats, and the lurking feelings of sorrow are long gone by the time they’re sitting at a table in a ramen shop. The conversation is lighter, although Tome bugs them about details now that it’s out that the two of them are together, and she eats her fill of warm delicious food. She knows the road ahead of her is pitted against her in some places, but the encouragement is what she needs to just get through the rest of the day. She’s glad to know Reigen. Already in her short time working for him, she’s learned so much.
At the end of the meal, they part ways, though they ask her to let them know when she gets home, and she steals another hug from Reigen– just a quick hug, she feels awkward doing it –and clearly he’s a little uncomfortable, but he does return it with a soft ‘seeya later kid’. She waves goodbye, and practically feels like running and skipping the rest of the way home, no longer numb and frightened and sad.
She knows who she is, and she knows that she has support.
She can do this.