Chapter Text
Reigen had but one friend growing up. A good friend, a close friend; the kind of friend that never quite left, no matter how much time had passed. The kind of friend that followed him wherever he went. They’d walked to class together in middle school. They’d sat alone but together on the roof in high school. They’d been together on graduation day, when Reigen smiled, gave a triumphant speech that he didn’t mean a lick of, and went backstage to catch his breath afterward. His friend was there, too. His most faithful friend. His only friend.
That friend’s name was Self-Doubt.
And today, at the age of twenty-two, that friendship still stands.
“Settle down.” “Get married.” “Go to college.” Reigen is all too familiar with those phrases. Like his childhood friend, those words follow him around wherever he goes, like a gloomy stormcloud just waiting to burst. He’d thought getting out of his parents’ home would help some. Maybe getting some independence would be a good thing.
He’d underestimated just how wrong he could be.
“... Are you… sure this is the right place?” Reigen asks, hardly daring to step foot into the smelly apartment. It looks too barren for even an animal to live in, with dusty hardwood floors and threadbare, questionable furniture that he’s positive can’t hold his weight. “I knew you said it was a fixer-upper, but…”
The landlord shrugs, like this is completely normal, and Reigen knows he’s screwed. “Well,” the landlord says, stepping inside and motioning for Reigen to follow, “granted, it does have more than a few issues, but with the price range you’ve got in mind, this is about all I can get you.”
It’s bad. It’s really bad, and it stinks, like something (or maybe several somethings) have died in here. It looks more like a crime scene than an apartment, and the wheels of Reigen’s suitcase leave stripes through the dust on the floor.
He’s about to decline when his parents’ words flash through his head. After that, there’s really no question.
“It’s fine,” he says with an exuberant smile that he doesn’t mean at all. It’s a little scary, he thinks, the kind of things a smile can hide, but he’s gotten so good at it that he barely gives it a second thought. “Do we wanna go ahead with the contract? I’ve got cash on me.”
It takes a whole of ten minutes, and then Reigen is left alone with a new set of keys that he only hopes matches with the door’s multiple locks. It’s what he gets for picking a shady part of the city, but the apartment rates are the cheapest down here (and now he knows why, but it’s kinda too late for that now). It’s all he could afford.
He spends the rest of the day cleaning the living room but gives up the second he realizes there are several broken pipes in the bathroom. That’s another problem for another him; right now, hands raw and head fuzzy, he goes to bed.
(Or, rather, a blanket on the floor.)
The following weekend, he spends his only days off cleaning and trying to bring any semblance of life back to the dead, murky apartment, with little success. He should probably make friends with the neighbors, or at least drop by and say hello, but he doesn’t want to do that until he’s settled in completely.
Which, considering the state of the place, is going to take much longer than he’d ever hoped.
His friend is most noticeable in the still, quiet moments. As he lies on his futon just moments away from falling to sleep, as he follows YouTube videos to the best of his abilities to fix bathroom pipes, as he makes a run down to the marketplace early mornings, as he stands behind the line at his job, waiting for the lunch rush. That’s when his childhood friend is most real. That’s when his parents’ voices echo in his head the loudest.
It goes beyond draining. This relationship is toxic, all take and no give. Staying up late, insomnia, wondering just what the hell’s even the point of tomorrow. It’s the same routine every day. Tomorrow might as well just be today with how his life is going. A constant cycle of repairing the pipes, trying to salvage the living space, making his way to the workplace, avoiding phone calls, batting away the annoying presence over his shoulder. He puts more into life than it gives back, and it’s exhausting.
There’s an office for rent a couple buildings down from his apartment.
He’s been holding a steady job for a little while now, so it’s not as though he’s pressed for funds. He has plenty of money for next month’s rent, and the office space is beyond tempting.
Ever since he was young, he’d dreamed of having his own office. “Reigen Arataka, star psychic of the 21st century.” It has a nice ring to it. Maybe it’s impulsive, but before he knows it, he finds himself the proud owner of the small but manageable space which soon becomes the Spirits and Such Consultation Office.
He’s always had a curiosity for the “other-worldly,” although it’d never gone beyond that. But he’s desperate for a change, desperate for something new in this dull, lifeless existence of his, and this seems like the key.
Who knows, maybe he’ll actually get a client or two.
He has to restrain himself from vaulting over the desk when he hears the office door click open. That wouldn’t be very professional of him, and he isn’t that desperate for clients. (Although, if he could make a living out of this and ditch that fast-food occupation, then, well. That’d be nice.)
“Come in, come in!” Reigen ushers enthusiastically. He feels a little awkward, even though he’s never struggled with social interactions before, but he can fake it for a while. “Go ahead and take a seat.”
The client is a short, stout woman with shifty, wandering eyes, clutching a shawl around her shoulders. She looks like the kind of person who would’ve owned Reigen’s apartment before him, and even that’s putting it lightly.
But who’s he to judge, anyway. She’s here for his help, and he’s here to help her.
She takes a seat on the chair before the desk, and Reigen swings himself back into his swiveling chair, this time with a sheet of paper and a pen to give to her. “Just go ahead and put down your information,” he says, “and we’ll go from there.”
She nods wordlessly and does it in a matter of minutes. Her handwriting is smudged and difficult to read, but that’s whatever, too. He can read it.
“Alright, everything seems to be in order. So!” Reigen sets the paper off to the side with a mental note to make a filing cabinet for this kind of stuff later, but for now, he claps his hands together before resting his elbows on the desk and loosely entwining his fingers. “What seems to be the problem, Ma’am?”
And so his first client and his first job as “Reigen Arataka, the self-proclaimed psychic” kicks off.
“How long have you lived in the house?” Reigen asks as they head down the sidewalk, away from the office, past his apartment, and further into the dreary part of the city. “Do you know if it has any history with spirits or the like?”
The woman shakes her head, taking several steps for each one of his. He slows down a bit and tries to match her pace instead of the other way around.
“Not that I know of, at least,” she says. “I’ve been living here for a good twenty years now, I would know if there were any past happenings with spirits or likewise.”
“Right, makes sense,” Reigen says, putting up a confident front to mask how excited he really is. He pats his jacket pocket, just to make sure he’s got the salt on him. He does. “Well, don’t worry, Ma’am, I’ll have the problem dealt with in no time at all!”
She smiles, and the smile Reigen serves in return is just as genuine. For once, his childhood friend lets him enjoy his life.
“It’s been wreaking havoc for some time now,” the woman explains once they’ve arrived at their destination, pointing a finger beneath the porch of her ramshackle house. It sure looks like the kind of place that’d be haunted, but of course he doesn’t say that. “It keeps spooking my cats as well, and I’ve tried going to neighbors for help, but no one will take me seriously.”
Reigen nods, flashlight in one hand, other hand touching his chin thoughtfully. His main concern is assuring the woman, of course, and making sure that she can continue to live here with no fear or worry whatsoever, but in the back of his mind, he’s buzzing. This is his first job as a “psychic.” He’s been waiting for this moment for so long, he can’t help it.
“Ah, I see!” he says, nodding firmly. “Yes, I see it all very clearly now…”
The woman blinks. “You… you do?”
He nods again. “Of course! I’m the new star of the psychic world, after all, Reigen Arataka!”
He was right. It does have a nice ring to it.
“So,” he says, turning to face her, “do you have any idea what kind of spirit it is?”
She smiles faintly, but the sincerity behind it is gone. Her eyes dart to the side, and she brings a finger toward her face to scratch her cheek nervously.
“Well, about that… you see, it isn’t actually a spirit at all. It’s a stray dog that somehow keeps finding its way around Animal Control and back under my house. I’ve tried asking others for help, and I’ve tried telling Animal Control over and over again, but no one wants to come around these parts of town. It’s dangerous.”
“... Ah.”
That…
He won’t lie, that stings a little.
“I’m sorry,” the woman says, shaking her head ardently, “but I didn’t know who else to turn to, and I didn’t think you would come if I told you the truth—”
“No, don’t worry about it.” That’s not what he wants to say, not really, but. Professionalism and all that jazz. “I’ll take care of the stray.”
His friend is back. Laughing.
“Hey, is this Animal Control? Listen, so I’m in the local park with this stray, I was wondering if you could come pick it up? … It’s been causing some problems with the locals, I have it on a leash. … Yeah, alright, thanks.”
He hangs up as the leashed dog at his side licks the plate of dog food dry. It had been surprisingly easy to lure the poor thing out from under the house; all Reigen had to do was run down to the store and grab a can of wet food (along with the cheapest leash and collar he could find) and the dog crawled right out. The woman was so relieved that she forgot about paying him entirely, and Reigen was in too much of a shock to remember, too.
He should probably get used to life screwing him over by now, but dang if it doesn’t hit him like a slap him in the face anyway.
Animal Control comes for the dog, who goes right to them when Reigen undoes the leash and collar. They thank him for his service in a very professional, rehearsed manner before loading up and setting out, leaving Reigen behind with the leash, collar, empty can of dog food, and that ever so present friend of his.
He gets one step down the sidewalk towards his apartment when his phone rings. A quick glance at the caller ID has him wincing, but he hasn’t responded to calls for quite some time, now.
Against his nonexistent better judgment, he answers. “... Hi, Mom.”
“Arataka! Oh my goodness, I was so worried! Why weren’t you answering our calls? If I knew where you were living now, I would have driven all the way out there just to make sure you were still alive!”
Even though he understands the heart behind the words, ouch. Ouch.
“I’m fine,” he responds, trying to sound as indifferent as he can while still being reassuring. “I’ve just, ya know. Been busy, moving in, working things out.”
“Are you still doing that spirit-consultation-whatchamacallit?”
… Ah. So that’s what this is really about. He should’ve known.
“Yes, I am.”
“Really? I was sure you would’ve dropped it by now. Has anything come of it?”
“I mean, I’ve helped people,” one person, but she doesn’t need to know that, “so, I’d say yeah?”
She sighs but falls silent for quite some time. Long enough for Reigen to wonder if maybe she’d hung up on him.
“... Listen, Arataka. The truth is, your father and I have been worried about you for a while now. I know you wanted to move out, and we encouraged you to do so, but… this isn’t what we thought you’d be doing with your life. Maybe you should move back with us until you can find something better to do. Or maybe you should think about settling down, starting a family.”
“You know that life isn’t for me. We’ve been over this.”
“Arataka, please. Think about it. There’s so much you can do with your life, so very, very much. You shouldn’t spend all that potential on meaningless things. Don’t waste your life on nothing.”
She does hang up this time, but he stands there long afterward. He doesn’t even lower the phone from his ear.
For as long as he can remember, all he’s ever wanted was to be somebody. But now it seems that “no one” is the only thing he’ll ever truly be.
Maybe they have a point.
Next Sunday afternoon, following several more pointless, practically penniless “errands,” Reigen starts to take his parents’ words to heart. They’ve never once been proud of him, never once congratulated him, never once encouraged him to follow his own path or even try to construct his own future. Maybe it’s because he’d never done anything worth their pride or their praise. Maybe it’s because he’ll wind up burning whatever future he builds.
The office was open all day, and nothing came in. Not one job, not even an errand. A whole day completely wasted to the hands of time, and there’s not a single thing he can do about it. Maybe his parents have a point. Maybe they’re right about him. Maybe he is just some hopeless idiot with his head so far up in the clouds that he has no hope of coming down. Maybe “nobody” is all he’ll ever accomplish in life.
Maybe he doesn’t have any other choice.
“Hey, just what do you think you’re doin’, huh?”
“Yeah, this is our turf! You don’t belong here.”
“Pl-Please leave me alone, I don-don’t mean any harm, I just-I just need to pass through—”
“Really? Well, if you need to pass through here so badly, then why don’t you beg?”
Reigen can’t help but turn to see what all the commotion is about. On the other side of the street, lit up by rays of the setting sun, a group of young boys (maybe middle schoolers? It’s difficult to tell from this distance) are huddled around someone else that Reigen can’t see.
There’s nothing friendly about that situation, though. Or their tones of voices. There’s no goofiness, no “haha, just kidding,” no friendship. That is a hostile situation. That is bad.
And, well.
Reigen has never been very good at ignoring his impulses.
“HEY!”
He doesn’t remember moving, but then cars are screeching at him as he shoots across the street, and the boys’ attentions are drawn to him at once. There must be something about the look on his face, or maybe it’s just that he’s an adult and he’s running right for them and obviously pissed, and the boys, while bullies, aren’t idiots.
They run, scattering like dandelions to the wind, leaving behind the subject of their abuse.
Reigen skids to a halt on the sidewalk, breathing hard from the sprint, eyes still narrowed in a low glare. “Ugh, what a bunch of little sh—” There’s still a child here, idiot, “—jerks. Too bad they’re cowards, I would’ve been able to teach them a lesson or two.”
It’s only now that he realizes the victim hasn’t actually moved, and Reigen turns toward them. As angry as he is, the bullies are gone, now, and in comparison to who they’d left behind, are no longer important.
“Are you okay?”
A small, almost unnoticeable nod is the only answer he receives from the boy, but he doesn’t lift his head. Judging by appearances only, he seems very young—perhaps eight or nine, unless he’s older than he looks—with a shock of black hair and pale skin that suggests he doesn’t get out much. Reigen doesn’t like the bruises on his forearms or legs one bit, but pretends not to notice as he kneels down in front of him with a tight smile.
“Hey, kiddo. Are you—”
It’s only now that Reigen notices a small, white cane on the ground just a little ways away, with a single stripe of red down the middle. The boy’s eyes are screwed shut, hands defensively in front of his face.
The realization sinks in slowly at first but finishes like a wave.
“Are you going to make fun of me, too?” the boy asks, and the slight waver of his voice breaks Reigen’s heart.
“No, of course I’m not,” Reigen promises, shaking his head. “No matter how many people make fun of you or how often they do it, that doesn’t make it any less wrong. Here.” He reaches over, grabs the cane, and taps it against the boy’s hands. “This belongs to you, doesn’t it?”
There’s no reaction from the boy, and for a moment Reigen thinks he may have messed up, done something he shouldn’t have—but then his fingers close around the handle of the cane, and he nods. He unfurls from his defensive position a little, but still doesn’t open his eyes.
“Ye-Yes. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” If Reigen weren’t so afraid of scaring him by mistake, he’d ruffle his hair. When the boy makes no move to stand, Reigen moves to sit beside him against the wall, sighing deeply. “What are you doing all the way out here, huh?” he asks. “It’s kind of late for you to be out here all by yourself.”
“I got lost looking for the psychic’s office.”
Of all the things Reigen could have expected, that came nowhere close to any of them. But he keeps his cool and tries not to appear as surprised as he is.
“Ah, the psychic’s office, huh? Well, you were on the right track, it’s just a couple of blocks down.”
“Wait, really?”
“Yep!” Of course Reigen would know, he walks to and fro between that and his apartment every day. “I could show you the rest of the way there if you’d like.”
The boy perks up a little at that. Victory.
“You-You would? That’s okay?”
“Of course!” As though for emphasis, Reigen gets to his feet, intentionally being as noisy as he can. The boy hears his movements and rises to stand alongside him. He’s lifted his head, now, but even though the bullies are long gone, his eyes are still closed. Maybe it’s just a habit? Reigen doesn’t know and he doesn’t ask. “It’s not far from here, it won’t take very long.”
“T… Thank you!”
“Don’t mention it, kiddo.”
And soon they’ve set down the sidewalk, with Reigen leads him by a gentle hand on his forearm. Reigen pretends to be an indifferent stranger, but once again, his mind is buzzing. No matter how badly he doesn’t want to get his hopes up, they can’t really help but soar.
“So,” he says, “what’s got you heading to the psychic’s office at this time of night?”
The boy actually flinches, lowering his head again.
“... I don’t think I should tell you.”
Shoot, I messed up. “Why not?” he asks.
“Because it’s a secret.”
“I can keep a secret, kiddo, trust me.”
“... Do you promise?”
“Pinky promise.”
He doesn’t know if this kid holds the same sentiment, but when Reigen was his age, there were always kids on the playground making “pinky-promises.” Promises that would never be broken. He hopes it works.
It seems to, because after another long moment of silence broken only by their footsteps, the boy answers.
“The thing is, I… I’m a psychic. And…” His fingers curl around his cane a little tighter. “I thought, if this other psychic person was same as me, then… then they could help me, maybe.”
Oh, a psychic, huh…?
This isn’t the first time Reigen has heard these words from a kid. He’d been pranked more times than he cares to recall; actually, they weren’t even proper pranks, considering they served as more annoyance than tricks. Kids—especially middle schoolers—seemed to get a kick out of screwing with him. It was just another reason why he’d considered throwing his hands in the air and giving up the business.
But he’s intrigued, now. There’s no reason for him to carry a prank this far. And, if it were a prank, it still seems extreme for someone in his position.
“... Did someone put you up to this?” Reigen asks in the least accusatory voice he could possibly use. “Are those bullies telling you to go places and say stuff like that? I can teach them a lesson if you want.” And oh boy, those kids had better hope he never finds them again because he’s gonna kick their teeth in.
But the boy is already shaking his head, rounding his shoulders as though he’s trying to curl in on himself.
“N-No, no one told me to do this,” he murmurs. “I… I haven’t been able to talk to anyone about this yet. Just my family, and… now, you.”
Reigen glances down at the cane, then back up at his face. “So you’re… really a psychic, huh?”
The boy nods stiffly without lifting his head. “It’s okay if… It’s okay if you don’t believe me. I know I’m little, and my parents always told me not to trust strangers so it’d make sense if you didn’t, either—”
Oh, this kid...
“—But I really am a psychic. I just… need some help.”
Reigen has nothing. There’s no thought, no wonder, there’s absolutely nothing that comes to mind. But whatever this is, whether it’s factually true or not, it’s real to the boy. Reigen has become quite efficient when it comes to reading people; he’s had to with this line of work; and although the boy is harder to read than any other client he’s ever had, there’s nothing about his posture or tone that points to a lie. Even though it may not be factually accurate, it’s true to him.
“... What’s your name, kiddo?”
“Kag-Kageyama Shigeo.”
“Well, Shigeo, you’re in luck. I happen to run the Spirits and Such office, and I believe you.”
The boy jumps and gasps. “Wait, wait really?”
“Really!” Reigen says, beaming. “Reigen Arataka, at your service.”
It’s hard to read his face, especially since he still hasn’t opened his eyes, but the atmosphere is lighter than before. It takes a weight off of Reigen’s shoulders.
“And you believe me?” the boy asks. “Do you mean it?”
“Of course I do.” Reigen’s smile now is much more genuine than the one he’d worn before, and there’s a big part of him that wants to reach out and squeeze his shoulder. He holds back. “Here, it’s getting late, now, and this isn’t exactly the nicest part of town. What say we go to the park instead? We can talk about everything there.”
Shigeo nods feverishly, and even though his eyes are still closed, there’s a spring in his step now that Reigen doesn’t miss. Score.
“Thank you!”
“Don’t mention it, kiddo.”
“Everything” turns out to be much, much less than Reigen had originally anticipated, but it is getting late, and he doesn’t want to keep the boy here for any longer than what’s strictly necessary. He’s no doubt got a family to go home to that will be worried if he doesn’t arrive on time.
“Let’s get one thing straight, first of all,” Reigen starts once they’ve found a bench to sit at, and the boy listens closely. “Psychic powers, athletic abilities, being able to cook well, sing well, speak well… no matter what attributes we have, no matter how different they are from other people’s, we’re all still human in the end. Psychic powers don’t change that one bit.”
The boy nods fervently.
“It’s what you choose to do with whatever abilities you have,” Reigen says, “that’s what really matters. In the end… just live the best life that you can. Be the best person you can be, and if you help people along the way, then… well, that’s all the better, yeah?”
“Yeah!”
He’s more enthusiastic than before. His tone and body language speak what his expression cannot, and his eyes are still shut, so Reigen has no help there, but he can’t help but smile.
“Can, can I come to the office tomorrow and see you again?” Shigeo asks him as he stands to leave, cane clutched in his right hand. He’s actually shaking a little, but it’s less of a tremble and more of an excited buzz. Reigen smiles.
“Of course,” he promises with a nod. “Just make sure your family knows where you are, alright?” An image of Shigeo wandering home all by himself, getting lost, hurt, or bullied again flashes through his mind’s eye. “... Actually, do you have someone who could come with you next time, just in case you get lost again?”
“Oh, Ritsu would love to meet you!” Shigeo beams, bouncing, which Reigen takes as an immediate yes. “He’s my younger brother, but he’s a lot smarter than I am. Can I bring him tomorrow?”
“Yes, of course!” Please. The thought of this boy walking all the way to his office, all by himself, alone, is enough to send a chill down Reigen’s spine. “You can bring him next time, I would love to meet him.”
Shigeo smiles, and if his eyes were open, Reigen is sure the smile would reach them.
“Do you have someone who can take you home now?” Reigen asks, because there’s no way he’s letting the boy head out by himself this time of day. “It’s getting late, you don’t want to be by yourself.”
“Oh…” Shigeo’s shoulders slump a little, as though this thought had never once crossed his mind. “I… didn’t really think about that. I don’t have a way of calling Ritsu or Mom and Dad…”
He’s speaking like he’s laying out a problem on the table, but doesn’t know the first step to solving it.
“Do you know their number?” Reigen asks, already reaching into his pocket. “You can use my phone.”
Shigeo nods. Reigen fishes the phone from his pocket, and hands it to him without thinking. “Here.”
“What kind of phone is it?”
“Just your typical flip-phone—ah. Do you want me to do it?”
Shigeo shakes his head. “I’m pretty good with phones. Can I see it?”
Reigen bumps the phone against his hand, and Shigeo takes it, dials without looking, and holds it to his ear. A few moments pass before he speaks
“Hi, Dad? … I’m sorry, I told Ritsu—I didn’t? I thought I did. —I’m at the park, someone helped me here. —He’s nice, I like him— Okay, bye.”
Shigeo hands up and thrusts out the phone, almost hitting Reigen with it by mistake. “My dad said he’d be here in a few minutes.”
“Right,” Reigen takes back the phone and stuffs it into his pocket. “Well, guess we’ll just have to wait for a bit now, huh?”
Shigeo nods.
The father arrives shortly thereafter and practically flies out of the car before it even pulls to a complete stop. He calls Shigeo’s name and he whirls around to face him, beaming and waving enthusiastically. Reigen waves back with a wince-like smile, but Shigeo’s dad doesn’t seem to notice.
“I’m okay,” Shigeo says while his father kneels in front of him, checking him over. The boy’s eyes remain closed. “Some kids were being mean to me, but Reigen-san scared them off.”
And just when Reigen was getting comfortable with being ignored, too.
The father rises from the ground and wow he’s a lot taller than he looks hOLY CRAP I’m dead, I’m dead I’m dead I’m friggin dEAD, but instead of a stern warning or clobbering (neither of which would surprise him), the man grasps his hand and shakes it firmly.
“Thank you for looking after my son,” he says, releasing his hand a moment later. “Means a lot to my family.”
“Of course,” Reigen says, hoping he doesn’t sound too giddily relieved. He’d been sure he was done for. “Shigeo’s a good kid. I’m glad he’s alright.”
There’s not much left to say. The father is clearly in a hurry to get home, and Reigen doesn’t keep them with idle small talk. He’s about to turn and leave when Shigeo grasps at his sleeve blindly.
“Thank you for waiting with me and talking to me about everything, Reigen-san.”
“Ahh, just Reigen will do,” Reigen says, waving a hand idly. “I’m not too big on formalities, don’t worry about it.”
Plus, it’s not like I’ve done anything worth earning your respect. But he doesn’t say that.
Shigeo frowns. “Really? Are you sure…?”
“Positive.”
“Okay, R… Reigen.” He still struggles a bit, but at least the -san is gone. “I’ll see you tomorrow! Thank you!”
Shigeo’s father helps him into the back of the car before getting in himself, and Reigen waves and keeps waving until the car speeds out of sight.
Reigen doesn’t hate his fast-food occupation, and his coworkers and boss are all really chill, really good people, but it sure would be nice if he could make a full living out of consulting. But that’s a long way away.
“I wonder if I have time to go to the market before Shigeo shows up at the office,” he murmurs to himself—he’s always had an easier time organizing his thoughts if he voices them. The boy had never given him a specific time of day, only that it would be closer to evening than afternoon. Which is a rather broad window, frankly.
He sighs. “Guess I’ll just head over—”
Across the street from the market, sitting on the park bench facing away from him, is Shigeo.
He’s alone again.
Reigen frowns for a moment, wondering why, when he’d promised he’d come with someone today, but that isn’t something he dwells on. He looks left and right down the street before crossing it in long, bounding strides, until he reaches the sidewalk.
His shoes hit the concrete, and a flock of birds that’d been wandering around the grassy park take to the sky.
Shigeo winces and flinches back, like he’s expecting to be attacked, but the birds soar right over him, over Reigen, and quickly zoom above the skyscrapers and beyond Reigen’s line of sight.
“Is someone there?” Shigeo asks, reaching for his cane on the bench beside him. Reigen grimaces, but steps forward guiltily while rubbing the back of his neck.
“Yeaaaah, sorry about that. Did I startle you?”
Shigeo doesn’t turn to him, but the lines on his face smooth out. “Oh, it’s just you.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“Not at all.” Shigeo shakes his head with the smallest of smiles, and scoots further down the bench so Reigen can take a seat. “I thought you would be at the office.”
“That’s what I thought, too, but nah.” Reigen leans back on the bench, kicking one leg up over the other. “I’ve got another job I’m holding down, since the spirit biz hasn’t exactly kicked off yet.”
If anything, it’s dragging me down.
“Oh, that’s right, it’s a new business,” Shigeo murmurs to himself, tapping his fingers lightly against the cane in his lap. “Have you gotten much work out of it?”
Reigen snorts. “I wish, but not yet. Someday, though!” At this, he twirls a finger through the air, if just in an attempt to hype himself up. “Someday I will, and everyone will know the name Reigen Arataka!”
Man, I’m such a loser.
“Wow…”
Reigen turns to him. Shigeo’s cane is now clasped between both hands, and he’s beaming.
“What’s up, kid?”
“N-Nothing!” Shigeo amends quickly, shrinking back in on himself which is not what Reigen had hoped for. “I-I just… thought it was cool that you were so confident in yourself…”
If only you knew…
Instead of saying that, Reigen smiles and reaches out. After a bit of hesitation, he ruffles Shigeo’s hair. The boy doesn’t flinch like he’d expected him to; if anything, he loosens up a little, and when Reigen withdraws his hand, he’s smiling, too.
“Well, I think that’s about enough chit-chat for now. How’s about we head to the office, yeah? We can talk more then.”
Shigeo is on his feet long before Reigen, and they set out.
Shigeo can guide himself surprisingly well. Reigen supposes he probably shouldn’t be too surprised; after all, the boy had made it all the way to the park on his own, so it’s not like he’s helpless or anything.
Actually. That reminds him.
“Why isn’t your brother with you?” Reigen asks, frowning. They’re making their way back to the office now so they can sit and talk about everything in a more calm, private atmosphere. “I thought you said he’d be coming today.”
Shigeo flinches and, oh, that awakens every bad feeling in the world. “Ritsu… he wasn’t feeling well today. He stayed at home.”
“Ah, I see. That’s a bummer, I hope he feels better.”
Shigeo nods stiffly. “I hope so, too.”
There’s something in his tone that implies more, but Reigen doesn’t ask. Instead, he tugs Shigeo around a corner and heads further down the street, towards the office.
“It’s a straight shot from here,” Reigen says, releasing his forearm, “so if you wanna walk yourself you can.”
“Thanks.” Shigeo unclips his cane from his backpack, unfolds it, and continues on with it as though nothing changed. Reigen kind of wants to tell him to slow down or let Reigen lead, but he’s doing fine so far, so Reigen keeps it to himself.
“So, erm…” Shigeo’s voice is small. “... About psychic powers and all…”
“Honestly, it’s better to talk about that stuff when we can sit down somewhere,” Reigen escapes, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “There’s a lot to talk about, believe me. We’re gonna need more time than we’ve got if we wanna go over it all.”
“Really?” Shigeo’s voice is filled with such awe and wonder, and it hits Reigen like a knife to the gut. “I knew psychic powers were complicated, but I didn’t know they were that complicated…”
“Well, think about it, Shigeo.” He pauses a moment, the familiar, rhythmic tap of Shigeo’s cane lulling him into a sense of calm and ease. “Psychic powers connect you to the spiritual realm while you’re still in the physical realm. There’s a lot to that, don’t you think?”
It isn’t a lie. Shigeo takes a moment to ponder this before nodding. “That makes sense,” he agrees. “I think I understand. Are we going to talk more about it tomorrow?”
“Yep, just remember not to come alone, alright?”
Shigeo nods.
They’re in Reigen’s neighborhood, now (if you can even call it that; no living thing or person should reside here, he thinks). It’s probably what he’d label as the shadiest part of the city, although not a lot of crime has happened here. The overarching atmosphere is one that instills feelings of, nope, time to get out of here, even in someone like him, who’s quite literally been around the block for several years now. But he knows it’s just a feeling and the lingering lull of crime rates in the back of his mind. It isn’t actually a terrible place.
Shigeo isn’t beside him anymore.
Reigen slams the brakes and spins around, heart pounding. “Shige—?”
The kid is still there, thankfully, though a couple strides away. His head is turned towards the ground, and he’s clutching his cane with both hands like it’s the only stronghold he has.
“Shigeo? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t like this place,” Shigeo says, shaking his head ardently. He still hasn’t opened his eyes, but now he’s screwed them shut tightly. “Something’s wrong, here. I don’t like it.”
“I know what you mean,” Reigen says, lifting his head. “This place is pretty shady, but you don’t have to worry, kiddo. No one’s gonna mess with you as long as I’m here, alright? I’ll have you know, I happen to be a green belt.”
“You can be a black belt and still completely helpless.”
Reigen’s heart stutters. “I can what? Listen, I know you don’t like this place, I don’t, either, but we’ve gotta pass through here to get to the office.”
But Shigeo shakes his head again. “I-I don’t like it, Reigen, I…”
The shadows of the buildings stretch darkness over the street as the sun sets lower. A flock of crows leap from a torn garbage bag and shoot into the sky like bullets. He doesn’t know why, but there’s weight on his shoulders. A tightness in his chest. A sharp snap of vulnerability, like there’s someone looking over his shoulder.
Reigen turns to the left, to the right, then behind him.
From the shadows rises a creature, the likes of which Reigen has never seen before. It has no definite form, a shroud of dripping inky shadows with long, thin, grasping fingers and empty eye sockets. At one point, it might’ve even been human.
But not anymore.
“What’s this I see?” the thing growls in a low, seething tone. “Two vulnerable nobodies… walking all by themselves…” It barks a loud, gravelly laugh, like the sound a chainsaw makes as it’s cranking up, if chainsaws smoked three packs a day and had a lung infection. “How pathetic… I spent so much time in this low-life city, waiting for my chance to strike… but it seems I won’t even have to use my full power to rid this earth of your sorry existences… how fortunate...”
Reigen doesn’t realize he’d been backing up until he bumps into Shigeo. Shigeo jumps for a moment, but Reigen can’t even find words with which to apologize.
“R-Reigen…?”
“What’s this?” the monster asks, creeping forward on its hands. Reigen puts a hand out behind him, pushing Shigeo backward and following thereafter. “You honestly think you have any chance at protecting him…? What are you, his father? His older brother?”
Reigen has never been a fighter.
“Well… I guess it doesn’t really matter what you are to him, in the end…”
Reigen has never been strong. He’s never been as confident as he seems. He’s never been anything even slightly worth remembering.
“You’re both going to die now, you know. I hope you’ve already made your peace with the world, said your goodbyes…”
Reigen has never really been anything at all.
“Let’s get this over with.”
“Reigen—!”
… But none of that really matters, does it?
With courage he doesn’t have, Reigen leaps.
The thing hadn’t expected him to move. It reels back into the shadows, an inky, slithering mess, but it doesn’t stay that way. Reigen sees its white, pearly smile once more, brighter the closer he comes.
“Shigeo, run!”
“How touching,” the monster says, crouching low to the sidewalk in a way too animalistic to be human, too many joints in its oozing black limbs, “but you’re only making it easier for me to kill you.”
He doesn’t care what this will do to him, he doesn’t care if he makes it out, he doesn’t care about himself. If Shigeo lives, then that’s enough. More than enough.
The monster beams brighter in a terrifying too-wide grin like bared teeth. Reigen sets his jaw and steels his resolve. Its hand moves, arms lifting higher and higher above Reigen’s head, higher than Reigen thought they could or should go, and—
—Stops.
The smile drops from the monster’s face as soon as it’d come. Reigen comes to a skidding halt, heart pounding, chest burning with every heave of breath. The monster tries bringing down its arms again, but it’s like he’s become a statue. Still, motionless. Only its eyes dart to and fro, primal hunger replaced with panicked fear.
Breathless and hysteric, Reigen breathes, “What…?”
“I think you forgot, Reigen, but...”
Reigen whirls around. Shigeo’s hand is outstretched towards the monster, a thin veil of light outlining his figure.
“... I happen to be an Esper.”
He opens his eyes.
The world around Reigen explodes like fireworks. From Shigeo’s feet spread a clash of blues and pinks and whites, stretching across the pavement, up the sides of buildings, with ornate patterns of shapes and polka dots. A thin layer of shimmering something outlines Shigeo’s form, liquid but solid, moving but still. The shadow creature before them explodes with a bang that makes Reigen’s ears ring, but he can’t even bring his hands to cover them.
That isn’t the only explosion. Down the block, around the corner, several streets down. Streams of multi-colored lights shoot into the sky like prisms or rainbows, too bright to look at but too stunning to turn away from.
Shigeo’s irises don’t stay one color. They go from blue to green, from green to red, a constant slur of clashing colors as the world around them does the same. Hand outstretched, explosions shattering any previous sense of calm and peace, but somehow bringing it back at the same time.
Shigeo’s calm demeanor, the colors swirling around them, the crackles and pops of explosions. A chaotic clash of colors and lights like a kaleidoscope, always moving, never consistent. And a mere child stands at the center of it all, conducting every moment.
It takes Reigen’s breath away.
Just as soon as it’d come, it stops. Shigeo drops his hand. The explosions dissipate and rise into the air as colored smoke. The buildings return to their dull, lifeless grays and browns, the sidewalk before them is empty, but the atmosphere is light. It’s as though a weight has been moved from Reigen’s shoulders, all dread vanquished from his mind. It takes a lifetime and an instant, time a vague concept as he sees an overwhelming transition from something more to what merely is. It leaves Reigen with too much to think about, yet somehow still grasping for more of whatever had just transpired in it’s unearthly elegance.
“There were a lot of them,” Shigeo murmurs, breathing heavily. The ground around where he stands is indented, and cracks spiderweb from the cement around his shoes. “It’s no wonder the area felt so wrong, the spirits were sucking the life out of it.”
His eyes are still open. Still changing, still shimmering. Reigen can’t tell what color they’re supposed to be, or even what color they are; a neverending swirl of hues that whisper colors that have-been, will-be, and might-be, all caught in the now .
“It should be okay now, though,” Shigeo says, as though nothing had happened at all. “They’re gone.”
Reigen’s mind races, breath stuck in his throat, hands pressed flat on the asphalt behind him. He doesn’t remember falling, but here he is. And who cares. He feels like someone just stuffed an entire encyclopedia worth of knowledge into his head. Through a cypher. In a foreign language.
“... Ah.” Shigeo’s voice is just as soft as before, but he’s turned towards Reigen this time. There’s nothing hostile about his eyes, but just the fact that they’re open and all is intimidating. “You’re… not a psychic.”
This snaps Reigen from his daze, but it’s more the tone of Shigeo’s voice than the actual words he speaks. It gets to him, bothers him, because there’s nothing accusatory in that tone, nothing that lends toward anger or malice or even betrayal. He states it like it’s a fact, and not just a fact, but a fact that he’s known for some time.
And after what he’d just witnessed, there’s a part of Reigen that’s angry at himself for ever comparing himself to a psychic. For ever thinking he had any right to proclaim himself as one. Whatever Shigeo had done, it was more than incredible. A controlled, conducted chaos like that, so hectic, so stunning…
Reigen swallows, leaning back on his hands a little more. “... No. I’m not. I’m not a psychic.”
Shigeo glances down at his shoes, almost like he’s the one who just got called out for lying. And honestly, that hurts a lot more than Shigeo’s fury ever would. The fact that he’s looking down, like this is his fault and not Reigen’s, it…
“You can hate me if you want to,” Reigen says. “You can call me a liar, a cheater, an idiot. It’s not like you’d be wrong.”
“I... don’t hate you.”
He looks up, and it’s now that Reigen realizes it’s not just a guess, or a movement of his head, or anything like that. Shigeo is looking directly at him.
Shigeo is blind, but his gaze, unseeing yet all-seeing, bears into Reigen’s like a knife.
“... I’m… powerful, even for an Esper,” Shigeo says quietly, twisting the cane in his hands. “I was born blind. I never got to see the world like most people do, like my parents do, or my brother does, but… I can see spirits.”
This is a lot all at once, but Reigen takes it in with as much poise as he can muster. He’s still on the ground, but he’s past caring about that now.
“That thing,” Reigen chances, “and all those explosions, those were…?”
Shigeo nods. “They weren’t very strong, so I exorcised them before they could do any harm.”
He’s having a hard time grasping it.
“You can see spirits.”
“Yes.”
What the hell.
“But, those aren’t the only spirits I see,” Shigeo continues. “I see your spirit, too. And Ritsu’s spirit. And my parents’ spirits.”
“... You…?”
Shigeo looks down this time, unsure. “I don’t know if it’s because of my psychic abilities, or a trade-off for being as powerful as I am, but… even though I can’t see anything else, as long as my eyes are open, I can see spirits. All of them.”
Reigen gapes. “... Every spirit.” Shigeo nods. “... Is that how you knew I was a fake?” Another nod. “... That’s…”
Shigeo doesn’t look at him, twisting his shoe into the ground. “It gets kind of overwhelming if there are a lot of people around,” he says. “There are already so many spirits in the world without adding in the living people’s. It’s… it’s a lot to deal with all at once.”
“I bet, holy sh—” He catches himself. “That’s…”
It’s a lot. It’s so much that Reigen can’t even pin it down with one word.
Shigeo nods. There’s nothing Reigen can find worth saying, but the next words out of his mouth follow a certain revelation of his.
“Well.” He gets to his feet finally, dusting himself off without any real need to. “I’ll walk you home, as promised, but you don’t have to come to the office again. You know I’m a fraud now, so there’s no reason for you to keep coming back.”
“I don’t think so.”
Reigen frowns. Shigeo meets his eyes. “... Why do you say that?”
Shigeo swallows hard. “I… always had a feeling. That you were lying to me. But, I…”
The hand holding his cane trembles. Reigen had forgotten he was still holding it.
“You treated me like I was just a normal kid,” Shigeo says, “with exception of, y-ya know, walking me home. And you believed me about being a psychic, even though you weren’t actually one yourself. You didn’t tiptoe around me like most people did. Do. And… and you offered to help me when no one else would, even though you were out of your element. S-So… if you’re still willing, I… I would still like to see you, tomorrow.”
Reigen’s heart both soars and plummets and he can’t determine what emotion caused which sensation. “... You’re sure about this.”
Shigeo nods.
“Even though I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“You’re at least more experienced than I am.”
“Yeah sure, doing con work.”
“Helping others,” Shigeo corrects, holding his gaze with those uncanny eyes. “I don’t really know how to interact with people very well, but you seem to do okay.”
Reigen hesitates. Mulls it over.
It’s a bad idea. He can’t give this kid the help he needs. He can’t be the mentor he deserves.
But, as much as Reigen hates it, Shigeo had brought up a good point, too. If he says no, who else is Shigeo supposed to turn to? There’s not a single other psychic in this godforsaken city that should get anywhere near a boy like this, so strong but so pure.
For the very first time since middle school, Reigen’s childhood friend is nowhere to be found. And as Reigen stares into Shigeo’s powerful yet gentle eyes, he can’t help but feel a sense of ease and relief that he’s never felt before.
And, who knows. Maybe this life is one worth living after all.