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Reigen shouldered his way through the crowd, the dark thoughts shadows hanging over him like a veil, residual anger yanking the energy right out of the core of him. He was so angry he shook with it, hot and sour in the pit of his stomach.
Where did Serizawa think--?
Who did he--?
What had he even said??
Reigen was unable to remember the vitriol that had spilled from his throat like poison, just knew it stemmed from his own secrets and the fear of him finding them out. The fear that he already knew. He needed distance (Katsuya) and Serizawa was smothering (saving) him, dragging (lifting) him down (up) with him.
But that didn't sound quite right.
Reigen had known this day would come.
That Serizawa would see him for what he truly was, a conman, fit only to use those around him for personal gain. A liar. A cheat. He deserved someone good and kind, who would treat him like he was something precious worth being protected, loved. Not some charlatan playing make believe.
Suddenly dizzy, his steps faltered and he pushed forward anyway. Running. The need to escape, to find a dark hole to crawl into,
stronger than anything else.
To lick his wounds until he could find the courage to apologize. Beg Serizawa to take him back and forgive him for his insecurities.
“But he knows the real you now, doesn't he?” A cruel voice, sibilant curl freezing his blood as it cupped his ear made him stop, stock still in the crowd; surrounded and alone. “And it is delicious, Arataka.”
“What?”
“Oh, you know me.” A snake’s hiss. “You don't need to pretend.” Cold, numbing and painful, swept over his skin, burrowed into his bones, stole his breath, his will. “Now.” A thrill of terror hummed like a thread in the back of his mind. Bright and red and terrible. “I’ll take the rest.”
Serizawa was stunned. Unable to even reach for the rapidly diminishing figure disappearing into the throng of festival goers. It had finally happened.
Reigen had finally realized what a selfish person Serizawa was. Only ever taking from him, using him up and never giving anything in return.
And he was sick of it. Had said almost as much, words tumbling thick and fast from an unfamiliar mouth, face twisted into an unforgiving sneer. Serizawa had barely recognized him in that moment, none of the Reigen he loved in the man railing at him. What happened? He didn't understand how it had all gone so wrong so quickly.
But that wasn't quite true.
Serizawa had known this day would come.
Had known there would be a day when Reigen’s sharp mind would see through exactly who Serizawa was pretending to be.
Choked with grief, the esper stood bereft, tears welling in his eyes. They’d been so happy just a short time ago, their plans to attend the Bon Festival the source of much anticipation. But he had to admit Reigen had been standoffish this past week. He thought it had been stress; they’d been busy with exorcisms, the real ones seemed to increase around this time every year, and Reigen had been so tired. But now. Clearly. It had been something else.
It had been him.
He stood there, in the way, jostled side to side by the beings around him, a stone being worn away by the river, hoping beyond hope he would see a familiar shock of auburn hair making his way back to him.
Instead, there was a ripple, moving outwards, bigger and bigger like the surface of a pond disturbed. Serizawa didn't know how he knew, but moved forward, slowly at first, then shoving past guests, heading for the epicenter. Knowing somehow what he was going to find. Scared he would be too late.
A figure, familiar, limp on the ground. Blood oozing swiftly from a gash on his head, and Serizawa felt like he’d never seen someone bleed like that.
Not someone he loved.
The spirit was an ugly, deformed thing, hunched over him and feeding off his aura. Feeding off Reigen and Serizawa fell to his knees, crushing the thing in one pulse of his glittering hand, taking sick satisfaction at the surprise writ across what would have been it's face as it dissolved under his power.
“‘Taka?” Voice unsteady, his hands were like butterflies unsure of where to land. Reigen was all but drained, pale and wan as he lay in the dirt, barely even breathing. “What happened?” A woman offered him a brief but inadequate explanation. Reigen had simple stopped moving, seized briefly, and fallen to the ground, hitting his head. He was advised not to move him, told an ambulance was on its way, and he settled one palm on the stuttering chest, the other cupping a cold cheek, thumb drawing a line of warmth over the bone there. He was far too cold, skin next to frozen, and it took all Serizawa had to resist gathering him up and holding him close. A klaxon sounded in the distance just as, with difficulty, Reigen’s lashes parted and bleary eyes rolled back before finding Serizawa’s face. “Hey there.” Tears rolled down his temples and he brushed them away. “Shh, it's okay. No, don't move.” But he didn't listen, lurched upright to cling to Serizawa, wrap his body tightly around him and what kind of man would he be if he didn't return it in kind?
“K’Katsuya.” A sob, crimson soaking into both their festival yukata. His grip was weak, shivering delicately now, curled close. “M’sorry…m’sorry…” repeated feverishly, and nothing Serizawa said would placate him. When the medics tried to move him he only clung harder, crying out and refusing to let go. In the interest of haste, the esper placed him on the gurney himself, still halfway attached to him even in the ambulance, until, finally exhausted, Reigen collapsed.
“Mild hypothermia? It's the middle of summer.” Serizawa didn't comment, just brushed fingers gently through hair matted with sweat and blood.
It was still and quiet, the room hushed and dark, and Serizawa held Reigen’s cold hand carefully, running his thumbs along the back of it. How long had that thing been attached to his soul, feeding on his emotions? A while judging by the state of him. Pressing a kiss to his forehead, avoiding the gauze square taped to his temple, Serizawa sighed. He was still upset by the things Reigen had said, had been pushed to say by the spirit influencing him, but he loved him so much in this moment, relief coloring the events of this night.
“...S’cold…” Dark lashes fluttered apart and half lidded eyes stared straight ahead.
“‘Taka?” Serizawa leaned over, moved into his line of sight, and the pallid face crumpled.
“Katsuya.” An aborted attempt to reach for him made his heart skip a beat. So he remembered. Serizawa wrapped him up and Reigen was paralyzed against him. “I--”
“We can talk about it later.” Tugging him closer he urged him to relax, to sleep. His skin was still far too cold and those damp, searching eyes ringed in deep bruises struggled to remain open.
“But I, I said…”
“I know.” Softly he swept a gentle hand through messy bangs. “And we'll talk about it.” Reigen was tense, unwilling to close his eyes and surrender to what was surely a powerful need to rest. “Go to sleep, ‘Taka.” There was silence for a little while, and Serizawa thought the conman might have listened to him when,
“Will you stay?” Soft and small, gaze turned away and resignation in every tired line of his body. The conman tensed when he felt Serizawa climb into bed with him, and he soothed him with soft touch, pulling Reigen tightly against him, tucking him safe and warm beneath his chin where he finally found it in him to relax. Moisture kissed his neck and Serizawa hushed him, running a hand up and down his back while he cradled his ear, fingers shifting in his hair. Reigen looked up, cheeks streaked with tears, to press trembling lips to his own. It was timid, none of his usual passion or fire, just gentle supplication and fear. Careful with him, Serizawa kissed back, soft and slow, smoothing away tears as he cupped his face in one large palm, shifted, trailing gossamer touch along Reigen’s jaw until he reached his ear, hesitating there for one precious second before whispering into its shell:
“I’m not going anywhere.”