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It takes Reigen a few weeks to scrape up the courage to ask again. Not that he can’t handle rejection. Actually, he prides himself on being able to take rejection in stride. But there was something about Serizawa turning him down that really stung. His first reaction when Serizawa said no, he’s already got plans for New Year’s, was a mean one: How does Serizawa of all people have plans? But he tries to not think like that. Isn’t this what he wanted for his new employee-slash-mentee? To be ‘re-integrated’ into society? He needs more than one friend in that case. Friends outside of work. Work-life balance. That’s what makes a well-rounded individual.
(Reigen doesn’t think about how his own prospects for New Year’s had evaporated with a single rejection. He should have a back-up plan next time.)
A back-up plan falls into his lap when the kids invite him out on an alien hunt. Or, well, ask him to be their designated driver. To save face, he grumbles about it to Serizawa, but privately he’s relieved.
And a few weeks later, he takes a deep breath and asks him again. “Do you wanna get a drink?”
(He agonized over the phrasing for a while. Considered ‘Do you wanna go out for drinks?’ but go out felt like a loaded phrase, and he thought he shouldn’t imply multiple drinks—lord knows he doesn’t need more than one himself.)
Serizawa looks up from his textbook. “Tonight?” He’s been studying at his desk for a while, since they returned from a case almost an hour ago.
(He used to just sit and twiddle his thumbs while Reigen answered emails (or surfed the web), until Reigen told him, “It’s okay if you want to work on your homework or something. When it’s slow.” Serizawa looked relieved, thanked Reigen profusely. He used to be pretty over-the-top in his expressions of gratitude; Reigen grimaced. “Don’t mention it.”)
“Yeah, tonight,” Reigen says with a shrug. He gauges Serizawa’s apologetic expression and quickly adds, “Or… whenever.”
(With that one word, this is starting to spiral into asking-on-a-date territory.)
“I wish I could, Reigen-san,” Serizawa says, and Reigen wants to pound his own head on the desk until he loses consciousness. “But I have a happy hour planned with my study group. We’ve been meeting up once a week.”
“No worries!” Reigen says, his smile feeling a little strained. “I just thought I’d ask.” He returns his gaze to his laptop screen, trying to look busy and not-disappointed, but it’s just a google search for takoyaki recipes. He closes the tab; he’s never going to make takoyaki from scratch, too complicated.
“You could come with,” Serizawa says. The word could is salt in the wound. (And Reigen has more experience than the average person with what salt feels like in open wounds.)
“No, I can’t hang out with your study group. That’d be weird.”
“We’re not going to be talking about school, though. It’s a social gathering. Lots of them bring their significant others, or…” Serizawa trails off, probably realizing that Reigen doesn’t fit the mold. The rest of his classmates aren’t bringing their bosses as their plus-one. Serizawa then adds, “I felt bad when I said no on New Year’s. I wasn’t really thinking, I should have invited you to come. That was rude of me.”
Reigen panics a little at the segue from significant others to his ill-fated New Year’s proposition, wants to nip that in the bud. “What? No, not at all. I had other plans, anyway. I mean. I found something to do.”
Serizawa’s face is mercifully blank. “Well. You should come tonight. It’ll be fun.”
Should.
Reigen shrugs, puts on a show of deliberating for a second. (As if he could fool him.) “Yeah, sure. Why not.”
Serizawa snaps his textbook shut, and the sound makes Reigen jump a little. “We should get going, then. It’s already a little after six.”
Reigen glances at his watch. It is indeed.
They gather their things and Reigen locks up. Serizawa points them in the right direction, says, “It’s only a few blocks,” and they start walking.
Now Reigen is beginning to consider the specifics of meeting Serizawa’s classmates: This is Reigen Arataka, my… Boss? Friend? Person I’m taking pity on because he has no friends? Either way, it will inevitably lead into a couple questions.
“Hey, Serizawa.”
“Mm?”
“Do your friends know you’re an esper?”
Serizawa tilts his head, considering, as if this had never occurred to him before. “Um. No, I guess not. It’s never come up.”
It’s never come up. Remarkable.
“I only ask because, well. When they meet me, they’re going to ask what I do for a living, and if you introduce me as your boss, that’s going to lead into what you do at Spirits & Such and… If you’d rather they not know, we’d better have a game plan going in, is all I’m saying. Like, I could say that I run a real estate agency and you’re my secretary. Or something. Just an idea.”
“Oh. I didn’t think about any of that.” Serizawa’s voice is quiet, and Reigen feels terrible. He’s gone and transferred all his anxiety into him, when Serizawa was feeling fine about this just a minute ago.
“I don’t mean to stress you out about it. It’s probably not a big deal. I mean, it’s not a big deal at all. But I just thought… I don’t know what your protocol is when it comes to this kind of thing. I don’t want to… out you. Or, not… That’s a loaded term. Shit. I mean, I know you’ve got a lot of baggage when it comes to this—”
Serizawa huffs out a surprised little laugh and Reigen wants to step into traffic.
“Oh, Katsuya, I’m sorry. I’m really running my mouth.”
(His mouth has now run away entirely, it seems, Serizawa’s first name slipping out before he can bite it back.)
They both stop walking and face each other, taking up more of the sidewalk than they should, but not paying any mind to the stream of pedestrians that break around them.
“It’s okay, Reigen-san,” Serizawa says, chuckling a little. “I appreciate the concern, but I think we should just answer their questions honestly.”
“Okay.” Reigen nods a little frantically, noting that Serizawa has stuck to the formal way of addressing him, even now. It feels like a door slammed in his face. “Got it. Honesty. The best of all policies. As they say.”
Serizawa nods once and continues walking. (Reigen is not a fan of this role-reversal. Whatever happened to the guy whose hands shook so badly he spilled tea on a client? That was something he could deal with. It’s like the two of them combined maintain the same net level of competency, each inversely correlated with the other’s. Reigen wants to share this clever observation with Serizawa, but he can’t without showing his hand.)
The happy hour is at a nice little restaurant that Reigen has somehow never been to, despite its proximity to the office. As soon as they walk in the door, he hears a chorus of “Serizawa! Over here!” and follows the voices to see an eclectic group of people sitting at a few tables pushed together in the corner.
“Hey, everyone!” Serizawa leads the way over, and gestures to Reigen. “This is Reigen Arataka. We work together.”
(We work together? Curveball. Reigen might need to lay down the professional hierarchy a little more clearly. Starting tomorrow.)
Reigen leans over the table to shake each of their hands as Serizawa introduces them. He repeats their names, trying to commit them to memory.
Satsuki Jin, a man in his early sixties, with his wife, Mei. Mori Saeko, a young woman, looks to be early twenties, and her six year old daughter, Chiyako. Nishii Kaito, early thirties, and Haruki Hana, around forty, are both here solo.
“Nice to meet you all,” Reigen says, settling down in a seat beside Serizawa.
They order a bunch of appetizers to share, and Reigen pretends to be busy looking at the menu so he can order last and follow everyone else’s lead on drink orders. Serizawa opts for a beer so Reigen gets the same.
The conversation starts, predictably, with some talk of classes: how the last test went for everyone, complaining about the professor’s unclear expectations on an assignment, laughing about something that happened in class earlier that week. Reigen smiles at the appropriate places and moves his eyes from speaker to speaker. He doesn’t mind it, really; it’s nice to be a fly on the wall sometimes. He takes a sip of his beer; he doesn’t particularly like beer, but he can throw back something light and cheap without too much grimacing.
Then Kaito looks at him and says, “Sorry, we’re leaving you out of the conversation. What is it that you do? We haven’t heard much about Serizawa’s mysterious job.”
Serizawa laughs good-naturedly and turns to look at him, waiting for his answer.
“Uh,” Reigen begins, looking at Serizawa and then back at Kaito. “I’m the owner of Spirits & Such Consultation Office. We handle a variety of spiritual and non-spiritual ailments for our clients.”
Everyone looks a little dazed, until finally Saeko says, “So, you’re a psychic?”
“Twenty-first century’s greatest!” Serizawa interjects, clapping Reigen’s shoulder. His hand rests there longer than it should; Reigen is hyperaware of the touch, the weight, the press of five fingers.
“And what do you do there, Serizawa?” Kaito asks.
Serizawa’s hand falls away, brushing down his arm on the retreat. “Exorcisms, mostly.”
“Like, ghosts?”
“Yeah,” Serizawa says plainly before taking a sip of his beer.
“That stuff is… Is it real?” Jin asks suspiciously.
“Oh, certainly,” Reigen says, his tongue already starting to feel loose after a few sips of his drink. “Supernatural phenomena are always present, even in the most mundane settings.”
“Are there any ghosts here?” Chiyako, Saeko’s daughter, asks, looking more intrigued than scared.
Reigen leans in and says in a low voice, “You see that table over there?”
Chiyako glances over at the empty table for two in the corner and nods.
“There’s two ghosts sitting there,” Reigen says. She looks again, as if she might have missed it before, and then directs her questioning gaze back at Reigen. “They’re nice ghosts, though. They’re a married couple. They used to come here every week for thirty years, and they’ve kept the tradition. The restaurant saves the table for them.”
Chiyako looks at the empty table again and then at her mom, eyes wide and inquisitive.
Reigen leans back in his seat and when he does, he bumps into not the hard back of the chair but something with more warmth and give to it. Serizawa’s arm is slung around the back of Reigen’s chair, casually, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His arm stays put, just adjusts a little, as Reigen settles in—he glances at Reigen and smiles fondly.
Serizawa has seen Reigen lie countless times, of course, but this is the first time he’s smiled at him for it. Between the smile and the arm against his back, it’s getting to be all too much for Reigen—but the food arrives just in time to sap the tension.
The conversation moves on from class and work, splinters into subgroups. Serizawa ends up rotated in his seat, his back to Reigen, talking to Hana about something. Reigen, feeling a little abandoned, strikes up a pleasant enough conversation with Jin and Mei about where they’re from, what brought them to Seasoning City, how long they’ve lived here, their adult children and their jobs. Reigen keeps asking the questions, doesn’t give them much room to turn it back around to him.
And soon, his drink is empty and he’s not going to get another one, feeling fuzzy enough. Saeko and Chiyako are leaving, saying their goodbyes. “Want to know a psychic trick?” he says to Chiyako, fishing a 5 yen coin from his pocket. “Tie a string around this and you can use it to hypnotize someone, if you’re ever in trouble.” He places the coin in her hand.
She nods seriously. “Thank you.”
“Do you want to head out now?”
Reigen turns toward Serizawa, tries not to overthink the fact that he’s suggesting they leave together. (Of course they’d leave at the same time: Reigen’s not going to hang around alone with Serizawa’s friends, and Serizawa is too nice to make Reigen leave on his own.)
“Sure. If you want to,” Reigen answers. It’s been close to two hours and the rest of the group seems ready to go. (Maybe once they’re on the street, Reigen can casually suggest another place for them to go, just the two of them.) They get the bill and Serizawa settles up with his classmates, declines Reigen’s offer to chip in, won't even let him pay for his one drink.
“Nice to meet you, Reigen,” Kaito says, the sentiment echoed by the rest of the group.
“Yeah, likewise.” Reigen follows Serizawa out of the restaurant, pulling his coat on.
“I’m this way,” Serizawa says, nodding his head in one direction. Reigen is also that way, so he says as much, and follows him. (It seems Serizawa’s focused on getting home, shutting down Reigen’s scheme.) They walk in comfortable silence for a block or so.
“They’re a good group,” Reigen says, somewhat lamely, but Serizawa hums in agreement. “It’s nice to meet new people like that. I don’t… do that very often.”
“Me neither,” Serizawa says, with perhaps the slightest tone of humor to his voice.
“I used to go out pretty often with my coworkers before I quit, but then I worked alone for a while, and then it was just me and Mob for years.” Reigen’s not sure why he’s saying all this, Serizawa knows it already—but the words are flowing out of him, his brain on autopilot. “It’s hard enough to make friends as an adult, and I don’t exactly get a lot of opportunities through work. That’s why it was so nice to… meet you.”
Serizawa’s quiet for a long beat; sweat prickles under Reigen’s arms. Serizawa draws in a breath, and says, “Reigen-san, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to express my gratitude for—”
“No, no, no,” Reigen cuts him off. (He’s heard this plenty in the time they’ve worked together, and, for some reason he doesn’t wish to examine, he’s not able to stomach it anymore.) “You have expressed it, and it’s nothing really. I gave you a job. I would do that for anyone—or, no, that’s not what I meant. Um. I could tell that… you had… potential. You know what I mean?” (Reigen doesn’t know what he means.)
But Serizawa nods thoughtfully. “Yeah, I think so.” He stops all of a sudden, turns around, and Reigen almost runs into him. “This is me,” Serizawa says, nodding to the apartment building next to them. Reigen realizes that he missed his turn to go home a couple blocks ago. At least Serizawa is none the wiser.
“That was fun. Thanks for inviting me. I had a really nice time.” (Reigen can’t seem to stop the end-of-a-date cliches coming out of his mouth.)
“Yeah, of course. I’m glad you could come.”
They’re still standing in front of each other on the sidewalk, an arms length apart, and Reigen feels like he can’t just turn and walk away. So, he holds out his hand and Serizawa takes it. A handshake feels overly formal, though, so Reigen ends up tugging him into a half-hug, throwing his other arm over his shoulder.
Serizawa pats his back, stiff and hesitant. (Maybe a handshake would have been better.) Reigen takes a step away and lets go of Serizawa’s hand, refuses to meet the other man’s eyes. “Sorry. I felt like it was awkward to just walk away, but I realize that that was more awkward. You better go inside before I try to kiss you goodnight or something.”
(God… damn it.)
Reigen pinches his eyes shut, forces a laugh. He can’t think of any way to save this. He had such a great chance, a chance at a real friendship, and he’s gone and got greedy and fucked it all up. His eyes are still closed, but he can feel Serizawa take a step toward him. He can definitely feel when Serizawa gently cups his face.
He doesn’t want to open his eyes. It will make this real, one way or the other.
“Arataka,” Serizawa coaxes, gently.
It surprises him enough that his eyes fly open. Serizawa’s face is much closer to his than it’s ever been and he can see everything: the feathery eyelashes framing his warm brown eyes, the pores on his nose, the spread of his eyebrows, little hairs refusing to stay in line and encroaching halfway up to his hairline, the dots of stubble on his cheeks, the peek of teeth between his lips. This is real, all heart-achingly real.
Reigen swallows hard, his jaw clicking beneath Serizawa’s thumb.
Serizawa murmurs, “Can I kiss you goodnight?” and Reigen barely hears the words, instead mesmerized by the movement of his lips.
Reigen answers by surging forward to kiss him. Serizawa exhales into it, his hand holding firm to the side of Reigen’s face, fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. Reigen feels the smooth surface of Serizawa’s teeth, swipes his tongue against it—
Then it dawns on him that they’re standing on the street, in public, so he pulls back. Serizawa’s smiling at him (and still rubbing the back of his neck in a way that makes Reigen want to close his eyes and fall into him).
“So…” Reigen bites his lip through a smile.
“So.” Serizawa drops his hand, increases the distance between them a little. He clears his throat. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Reigen nods, taking a few steps backward. “Yeah. See you tomorrow.” (Of course he’s not getting invited upstairs, it was silly for the thought to even cross his mind. It’s better this way, anyway, to savor this stage of the relationship.) “Maybe we can go on a real date tomorrow? Just the… two of us?”
“I’d like that,” Serizawa answers, before confusion clouds his eyes. “Is your apartment back that way? I thought you said—”
(He doesn’t miss a thing, does he?)
“I wanted to walk you home. Sue me.” Reigen shrugs, not sure why this of all things is embarrassing him.
Serizawa chuckles. “I’m glad you did. Goodnight.” He turns to his door now, taking out his key.
Reigen takes a few more steps away on the sidewalk, watching him unlock the door. “Have a good night, Katsuya.”