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Reigen shouldered his way into their office and dropped heavily on the small sofa with a soft groan. “I don’t suppose you feel like making some tea, do you, Serizawa?”
Serizawa closed the office door and turned a bemused eye upon his boss, who had thoroughly splayed himself across the sofa, head thrown back dramatically across the cushions. “It won’t be a problem.”
Reigen slid one eye open to peer blearily at him, then closed it with a significantly more pronounced groan than he had uttered moments before. “The fact that you’re so sincere makes me feel even more guilty than if you were just doing it because I’m your boss.” He waved one hand absently towards the chair next to the sofa, where he remained unmoving. “Sit down, you technically did more work that I did anyway. I’ll make the tea.” His hand fell to the armrest once more. He sighed slightly. He still didn’t move.
While Reigen spoke, Serizawa removed his suit jacket and hung it on the coat rack by the door, draped over his and Reigen’s slightly heavier coats. They hadn’t needed them tonight; the night was surprisingly warm for early fall. “It really isn’t a problem. It’ll only take a minute.”
“No, no, I insist,” Reigen replied, trying to insert a tone of decisiveness in his voice as he slowly dragged his body forward to land his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. After a moment’s pause in this position, he gave his cheeks a vigorous rub and a quick, sharp slap before starting to rise.
Beads of sweat started to form on Serizawa’s temples, and he raised his hands nervously, as if Reigen were a police officer about to demand he put ‘em up. “A-are you sure? It’s really okay, I’m not even that tired - “ He faltered as Reigen, finally on his feet again, dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder and looked him square in the eyes.
“Serizawa. Relax.”
Serizawa gulped. “Yes-yes, sir.” He sat quickly in the chair Reigen had indicated, dropping his eyes to his clenched hands resting upon his knees. Relax, he thought to himself. Just relax…
Reigen stuck one hand in his pocket, the other flying through the air in an incomprehensible gesticulation as he walked toward the kettle. “Honestly, I can’t even do something nice for you without you making me feel guilty. Just because I hired you doesn’t mean you have to do everything for me.” He gestured towards Serizawa, the mug he had just grabbed from the shelf in his hand. “I want this to be an equal exchange, you hear me?”
Serizawa looked at the mug, then his master’s tired but determined face. He briefly tried to imagine him with shorter hair, jagged brows, looking at him and demanding something as surreal as an “equal exchange”...
He blinked as the mug dropped to Reigen’s side, and the (smooth, curved, brown) eyebrows knit together slightly as concern touched the man’s face. He realized he had taken too long to respond, and instantly felt sweat spring to his temples again. “Yes, sir!” he said loudly, quickly, bowing in his chair so his head fell between his knees. He felt them trembling slightly against his ears. Why was he thinking of Suzuki…?
A familiar hand fell to his shoulder and gently pulled him up. Serizawa raised his head sheepishly, still somewhat slouched over his knees, to find Reigen kneeling in front of him. It almost looked like a marriage proposal, if Reigen’s other hand (still holding the mug) wasn’t draped so casually over his own knee. As Serizawa processed that thought, he also realized how close his face was to Reigen’s, and the sweat (already prominent on his temples) began to bead across his whole face, accompanied with a warmth he was sure must be showing.
Reigen searched his eyes, silent and probing. Serizawa gulped down air as discreetly as possible, mentally urging the oxygen to calm the trembling that seemed to have spread to his hands. The soft sound of bubbling liquid and the barest trace of a whistle nudged its way into the otherwise silent air. “Tea’s ready,” Reigen said in a low voice, as though anything louder would shatter the atmosphere around them. Serizawa felt a squeeze on his shoulder as Reigen rose to his feet and turned to grab the kettle before it could swell to an ungodly screech. He watched numbly as he poured two mugs and carried them over, only shaking himself out of the trance as Reigen placed the steaming drink in front of him.
Reigen cast him a pointed look as he settled himself down on the sofa again. Serizawa ignored it, reaching for the tea and mumbling a “thank you” as he cradled it on his lap. Reigen, either convinced that Serizawa didn’t need to talk about it or too tired to push the issue, settled himself back into the couch again; head once more thrown back, one arm slewn across the back while the other rested his mug on his knee. Serizawa watched as his head flopped to the side, cracking his eyes open ever so slightly. After a moment of focus, the look of content on his face quickly slid into a scowl.
“What is it, sir?” Serizawa asked, as Reigen began to inspect himself with growing distress.
“My clothes!” Reigen moaned, plucking at his jacket and inspecting it at every angle he could from his seated position. “They’re shredded! It’s gonna take days to mend all these rips. Damn trees…” He put his tea down with a huff and leaned forward in his seat so he could pull off his jacket and inspect it more closely. “Look at this,” he muttered, one eye squeezed shut as he inspected a trio of tears at close range. “Serizawa, make sure we never take any jobs in the middle of the wilderness again. It’s almost not worth fixing, if I could only afford to replace it right now…” Reigen’s eyes wandered over to Serizawa’s jacket, hanging neatly on the coat rack, then to his pants, brow furrowing as his eyes traced over the neat, undamaged fabric. “How did you manage to get out unscathed?” he asked suspiciously. “You were leading the way through the brush.”
The hand that wasn’t holding the tea jumped to the back of Serizawa’s neck, scratching hesitantly. “I’m not sure,” he responded. “I must’ve had my barrier up subconsciously...That spirit was no laughing matter…”
Reigen looked mildly anxious at the thought of a spirit strong enough to make Serizawa second guess himself. With a small shake, he turned his attention back to his ruined clothing. “Oh well,” he sighed, shoulders slouched in resignation. “That’s why I buy my suits a size up. You never know where the job will take you. You can only sew up so many tears before they start squeezing you in all the wrong places, if you know what I mean.” Reigen threw a sly wink in Serizawa’s direction, though he was focusing back on a particularly snagged part of the fabric around his right arm before he could catch the flush that was creeping up Serizawa’s face again. “Dammit, that’ll be hard to disguise…” he mumbled to himself, picking gently at the loose threads.
Serizawa coughed slightly, hoping his voice wouldn’t squeak as he spoke up. “Eh, Reigen-san, is there anything I can do to help? I don’t know how to sew, but maybe…” he trailed off as Reigen leveled him with an accusatory glance.
“What did I just tell you, Serizawa? You don’t have to do everything for me. Besides, this falls more into the ‘domestic responsibilities’ category than ‘work responsibilities’. I can handle it.”
“B-but - Reigen-san - “
Reigen sighed and waved a dismissive hand. “Enough with the ‘Reigen-san’ nonsense too. Just Reigen is fine. Or,” he said with a pause, his hand freezing mid-wave, “I suppose Arataka is fine, too. I think we’ve reached that point.”
Serizawa was grateful that Reigen had resumed his minute inspection of his jacket, since he was sure now that every inch of skin above his shoulders was glowing pink. He turned aside to cough again, a bit more forcefully this time, and took a shaky sip of his tea. “R-Reigen...I-I mean…!”
“Hey, Serizawa, you don’t have to call me Arataka. I’m just saying, the offer’s there. A-and also…!” Reigen suddenly sounded somewhat flustered himself. “I’m not offended if the offer doesn’t go both ways! I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. I’m happy with just, ‘Serizawa.’” As if to emphasize, he swept both his hands through the air in front of him in a quick, smooth movement. After a moment, he groaned and dropped his face into one of his hands. “This is awkward. Just forget I brought it up.”
Serizawa looked at him with a perplexed expression. He could hear the thump of his heart through the blood racing around his head as he tried to think of how to respond. A few sudden points of pressure in his thighs told him he was clenching his hands nervously around his legs. He took a deep breath and loosened his grip. What was he so nervous for? They were communicating. This was good. This would help him understand Reigen better, make it less likely that he would upset him with some stupid comment. Another breath. Everything Reigen was saying was indicating that he trusts him. That he feels close to him, close enough to drop formalities. Close enough to care that he feels equal, not uncomfortable or indebted or inferior…
Another breath.
“I-I think I’ll stick with Reigen...for now. I just need to get used to the idea. There aren’t...many...people I feel comfortable enough around for...that. Once I’m used to it though...I’ll start calling you Arataka. And then...then you can call me Katsuya.” The thoughtful words felt strange coming from his mouth, almost viscous compared to the anxious flurry he usually babbled during moments of heightened emotion. This was different than interacting with strangers, or talking with his classmates, or describing some spiritual phenomenon to Mob or Tome. This was deeper. Reigen had somehow, with just a name, a cup of tea, and some tattered clothes, tapped into something entirely new in Serizawa. It felt like trust, and gratitude, and safety. He wasn’t afraid Reigen would turn him away, because they were equals.
An equal exchange…
That familiar hand patting his knee shook him from his thoughts. He looked at Reigen’s small, reassuring smile, and returned it with one exuding gratitude.
“That sounds good to me, Serizawa.”