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Reigen’s life is a consistent slew of days in which anything can, would, and honestly might as well just happen. It’s the kind of life he’d been asking for when he designated himself as Japan’s best psychic, but he hadn’t expected it would end up being even crazier than that. This kind of life goes well beyond simply keeping him on his toes; he may as well be airborne. He lives in a constant state of “expect the unexpected and try not to get killed in the process.”
But every now and then, something completely ordinary happens. And that’s when he’s really thrown for a loop.
“It’s been causing quite a racket for the past couple of days,” the client explains. Reigen is practically on his stomach, flashing a light beneath the house in question. “When I was told the place was haunted, I never took it seriously before now. I suppose I should’ve.”
“How long have you lived here?” Mob asks, and just by tone of voice alone, Reigen can’t tell if he’s being strictly professional or genuinely curious. It’s hard to tell most things when it comes to Mob.
“About a week,” the woman answers above him. She makes a small, distressed sound in the back of her throat; Reigen can imagine her shaking her head. “I don’t know what to do about it. I can’t sleep soundly at night, and none of the locals take me seriously when I bring it up. I didn’t know who else to turn to.”
“Right.” Reigen sits back, flicking off the flashlight. “Well, you don’t have to worry about it anymore. How’s about you get some tea going and we’ll take care of the spirit, yeah?”
The woman is quick to comply, and within the moment, she’s dashed up the porch steps and into the house, leaving the two of them alone.
Mob kneels beside Reigen finally, and Reigen hands over the flashlight. “Do you sense anything?”
Mob doesn’t even look before shaking his head. “Not really,” he says, flicking on the light and peering beneath the house. “Whatever it is, it’s either too weak to have a presence, or it isn’t a spirit at all.”
“Right, good.” Reigen, of course, has no idea either way, but he nods regardless. “I’d crawl under there myself, but I’m not sure I’d be able to get out.”
“I’ll go.”
Reigen isn’t really sure how he feels about that, but when it comes to spirits and the supernatural, Mob is more than capable of taking care of himself. So long as there isn’t an actual person down there, there shouldn’t be an issue.
If it does happen to be an actual person, though, Reigen will handle that.
“Alright.” Reigen moves out of the way, but not to his feet. “Give me a holler if you need me.”
Mob nods, and a second later, he’s disappeared beneath the house with the flashlight.
Reigen sits back on his heels and heaves a long sigh. He sure hopes it’s just a spirit; then Mob will be able to take care of it and there’ll be no further issues. Quick job, easy earnings. That’s how he likes it.
“... So it wasn’t a spirit.”
“Not a spirit.”
The cat in Mob’s arms meows softly.
The client is so overjoyed that they’ve solved her problem that she doesn’t even think to question where the kitten had come from. She bows and pays Reigen (without actually looking at what she was doing—she probably gave him more than she meant, but who is he to judge), and they set off for the office once again to decide what to do.
“Ahh, well, it’s not a big deal,” Reigen says, stuffing his hands in his pockets to keep himself from ruffling the dirt from Mob’s hair. The cat is covered in so much dirt and grime that Reigen can’t actually tell what color its fur is supposed to be. “We’ll just stop by the shelter on the way back to the office and drop him off. No problem there.”
“It’s Friday, Master.”
“So?”
“They’re closed until Monday.”
Reigen side-eyes him. “And you know this, how?”
Mob turns away. “Ritsu and I visit, sometimes. I… really like animals.”
Of course. Of course he does. Reigen weighs the situation for a bit, but in the end, there’s not a lot they can do. The kitten wouldn’t survive on its own, and even if it could, Reigen seriously doubts he’d be able to get Mob to let go of it. He can be stubborn when he wants to.
“... Let’s take it back to the office, alright? We’ll see if we can give it a bath or something and go from there.”
Mob actually beams at him, and Reigen can’t stifle the urge to ruffle his hair, this time.
Beneath all that dirt and grime, the cat is gray. She doesn’t even seem to hate being given a bath (at least, not when Mob does it—Reigen is fairly certain she’d take off his fingers if he got too close), but prances oddly around the office afterward, unsure of what to do about her wet fur. She’s about the size of a small child’s stuffed animal, and Reigen keeps having to snatch papers off the desk so she doesn’t get them wet with her paws.
“Mob, this was a terrible idea.”
Mob is perched on the couch, doing his homework. He doesn’t even look up. “It was your idea.”
“Yes, it was. Don’t let me do it again.”
“I can’t promise that, Master. I still think it was the right thing to do.”
Reigen sighs, but he can’t deny it. Even though he’ll always be a dog person, there’s something particularly endearing about the way the kitten leaps off the desk (and it actually gives him a heart attack dammit cat why) just so she can go see Mob. She mrrows at him, and he sets his books aside to lift her into his lap.
“We should give her a name,” Mob says, scratching the still-damp fur of her head.
“Ah, a name!” Reigen snaps his fingers. “Right. Do you have anything in mind?”
Mob shakes his head.
“Well, let’s think of one, then, shall we? Hmmm…” Reigen leans back precariously far in his swiveling chair, pondering. He’d never had a cat, but he’d had a dog, once, when he was little. She hadn’t lived very long, unfortunately, but she’s the entire reason Reigen loves dogs as much as he does now.
“... What do you think about ‘Yuka’ for a name, Mob?”
“Yuka?” Mob echoes, thinking it over himself. The cat bumps his chin with the top of her head, and he smiles again. “... I think that’s perfect, Master.”
Reigen grins, too thrilled by Mob’s approval to realize that naming the cat is the last thing they should be doing considering they’re supposed to take her to the shelter on Monday.
… Oh well. It makes Mob happy, so really, what’s there to complain about.
“Master I thought you were going to take her to the shelter yesterday.”
“You’re right, I was.”
“... She’s still here.”
“Right again.”
“... You got her a cat tree.”
“Yes, I did.”
“... Wait.”
Reigen can’t help but smile. Tuesday morning, now; Mob had left yesterday expecting to come back and find Yuka gone. But in fact, Yuka is perched on a small cat tree in the corner, looking about as content as she could be.
“Well.” Reigen gets to his feet while Mob crosses the room. He pretends to be indifferent. “I’ve heard it said that cats can see spirits, so I thought she’d be nice to have around here. That said, you’re the one who really wanted her, so you’re going to be doing most of the caretak—”
He’d thought Mob was going for the cat tree to see Yuka, but instead, the kid’s arms wind around his waist and squeeze tightly.
Reigen freezes.
He’s come to expect the unexpected with this occupation. He’s had to; it’s the only way he’s survived this long (sans Mob’s interventions).
But he’s not sure he could’ve ever prepared himself for this.
“... It’s just a cat, Mob.”
“I know. Thank you.”
It’s such an unexpected gesture that Reigen’s mind can’t help but drift to darker places. Maybe something had happened. Maybe something’s wrong. Maybe there’s more to the hug than Reigen knows or understands.
But that’s not really what matters now, is it?
He brings his arms around Mob and returns the embrace, and neither pull away until Yuka hops onto the desk to visit. Mob has a very slight but noticeable spring in his step for the rest of the day.