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“Are you sure this is going to work?”
“Don’t be like that, man. Just pull the puppy-dog eyes and get him to tell you why he tried to break in here. See if he’s a cop or something, that’s the last thing we need.”
“You do know this is illegal, right?”
“Maybe you can get him to shut up for a few minutes, at least,” Saito mutters under his breath.
“Come on, you look so harmless, it’ll be a piece of cake,” Yamato looks up at him, cajoling.
“When’s the last time you renovated? I don’t think this prison cell is to code!”
“But why am I—” Serizawa flexes against the rope binding his wrists behind his back. It’s not particularly tight, but it’s annoyingly scratchy.
“It needs to look real, man. He’s not going to trust you unless you’re tied up too. I don’t know what you’re even complaining about, you can just use your powers to get free, right?”
“Hey! Are you even listening to me?”
“And he’s not an esper. He’s just a regular guy. You could take him down easy if you have to.”
Serizawa flinches a little at the reminder. He doesn’t know how they can be so blasé about something like that.
“Yeah, but—”
Saito claps him on the shoulder. “Just try, okay? No one’s going to be mad if you can’t do it. We’ll just have to wait until one of the others gets back to interrogate him properly.”
Serizawa sighs through his nose. There was never any chance he was going to say no, but he would prefer if no one got hurt. He’s never really been comfortable with how they interrogate people. He’s not technically supposed to know about it, but it’s hard to miss. It used to give him nightmares, when he was younger.
They walk him down the hallway and open the door to a small concrete cell. Yamato pushes against his shoulders, and Serizawa obligingly stumbles forward and falls to his knees.
The man sitting against the back wall gives him a quick once-over before turning back to the doorway.
“Finally! I was starting to think you couldn’t hear me. I’m telling you, that lightbulb’s burnt out. You live like this? Damn, I don’t know how you can stand it.”
Serizawa glances up at the ceiling. One of the lights is indeed burnt out, but there are three others. It’s actually a little excessive. He’s not sure why it needs to be that bright in here, but it’s already giving him a headache.
“Shut up,” Saito snaps reflexively, and slams the door shut again. Maybe it’s just Serizawa’s nerves, but the pull of the lock sliding home is loud and unnecessarily drawn out.
The man gives an exaggerated sigh.
“Some people, honestly. No manners.” He looks over at Serizawa. “You okay?”
Serizawa flushes. “Uh, yeah,” he says. God, this was such a bad idea.
The man shifts against the far wall, pulling his legs up under himself. He’s wearing a rumpled grey suit with a pink tie that looks like it’s seen better days. Somehow it suits him, though. The man himself is a little worse for wear, too; there’s a swelling bruise on his cheekbone and a smear of blood under his nose. Like Serizawa, his arms are bound behind his back.
“What’s your name? I’m Reigen Arataka.”
“Um, it’s Serizawa Katsuya,” he says, ducking his head.
Oh—should he have given his real name? Barely a minute in, and he’s already made a mistake.
“Nice to meet you, Serizawa. You get caught by these losers too?”
Serizawa’s flush deepens. “Y-yeah.”
Reigen’s expression sharpens for a moment, before relaxing into a wry smile. He leans his head back against the wall with a small laugh, and closes his eyes.
“Uh-huh. Well, I hate to break it to you, but the hospitality sucks.”
Serizawa eyes the bruise on Reigen’s cheekbone. “What happened?”
Reigen looks over at him and shrugs. “It’s nothing. One of the guards didn’t appreciate my opinion of his life choices.”
Serizawa looks down. “Oh.” That seems excessive.
When he looks up again, Reigen has a speculative look in his eyes.
“Hey, come over here for a second.”
Serizawa shuffles forward.
“Turn around for me?”
Serizawa freezes warily, and Reigen’s expression softens.
“Hey, c’mon, it’s okay. Let me see your hands.”
Well, there’s not much Reigen can do to him like this. He turns around.
“Okay, let’s see… Yeah, I can probably get those off. Hold on.” There’s a shift of fabric against stone, and Serizawa feels fingers pulling at the ropes around his wrists.
“This is a lot harder when I can’t see what I’m doing,” Reigen admits after a couple of minutes.
“It’s okay if you can’t,” Serizawa says.
“No, no, I’ve almost got it. Just let me—there! Hah!” Another tug, and the ropes loosen. Serizawa pulls his hands free and turns around. Reigen grins at him over his shoulder, and waggles his fingers.
“Think you can get mine?”
Serizawa hesitates.
Well, he is supposed to be gaining his trust.
He reaches forward. Reigen’s bindings are a lot tighter than Serizawa’s were, and there’s dried blood crusted around the edges of the rope. Serizawa’s stomach lurches unpleasantly. He’s not going to be able to undo the knots manually, but Serizawa sends a tiny curl of power into them. They unravel very easily after that.
“That was fast! Thanks, my fingers were starting to feel a little numb,” Reigen says, and turns back to face him. He goes to rub his wrists, winces, and then flexes his hands a few times.
“You’re welcome,” Serizawa says, feeling awkward.
Reigen gives him another searching look, but his tone is light when he says, “So, you see any other prisoners on your way in? Or is it just us in here?”
“I, uh, I didn’t see anyone,” Serizawa says. And then, because he has a job to do, “Why?”
“Just wondering what they need all these cells for. Seems like a lot of empty space. Their heating bill must be massive.”
“I guess so,” Serizawa says. He wishes he could think of something more interesting to say. Reigen is so vibrant, it’s almost unreal. Serizawa feels very dull in comparison.
“So what’s your story, anyway? You don’t look like you belong here.”
“I don’t,” Serizawa says quickly. Reigen waves this aside.
“Yeah, but I mean, what were you doing here? It looks like they caught you in your pyjamas,” Reigen says, and Serizawa’s face heats with embarrassment.
“Not that there’s anything wrong with them! They look nice,” Reigen says hastily, waving his hands. “But it doesn’t look like something you’d wear to infiltrate a cult.”
“I wasn’t,” Serizawa says, looking at the floor. He’s not really comfortable with the way Reigen said ‘cult’, casual and breezy like he was stating an obvious fact. But he can’t dispute it without seeming suspicious.
His fingers twist in his lap. “I haven’t…been outside. For a while.”
“What, did they kidnap you from your house or something?”
Serizawa shrugs.
“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“It’s fine,” Serizawa says. “I’ve heard worse.”
There’s a long pause.
Serizawa doesn’t look up. God, now he has their prisoner feeling sorry for him. What did they even think he was going to accomplish here?
“They didn’t just grab you today, did they. It sounds like you’ve been here a long time.”
Reigen’s tone is flat; Serizawa glances up at him. His face is serious now, more so than it’s been since Serizawa arrived.
“When I was twelve,” Serizawa replies finally. He’s not sure why he says it—something about Reigen makes Serizawa want to tell him. Which is the opposite of what he’s supposed to be doing, he reminds himself. Part of him doesn’t care anymore.
“Twelve?” Reigen’s expression is horrified.
Serizawa nods slowly.
“You—shit,” Reigen says, slumping back into the wall. “Shit.” He swallows hard. “They don’t let you go outside?”
“I’m a prisoner,” Serizawa reminds him. “Prisoners don’t go outside, as a rule.”
It’s not exactly true, but he doesn’t want to get into the real reason. He would have to tell Reigen about his powers, and that would probably defeat the purpose of why he’s down here in the first place.
“Yeah, but—” Reigen stops, and sighs. “Sorry, I’m not trying to argue with you. Twelve, goddamn. Those bastards.”
“Yeah, it wasn’t my first choice for middle school.” It’s not particularly funny, but Reigen laughs anyway.
“No kidding.”
They sit in silence for a while. Surprisingly, it’s not awkward; Reigen looks like he’s thinking something over. Serizawa pulls his legs into a more comfortable position on the floor—as comfortable as he can be on concrete, anyway.
“Where were you before they brought you down here? Upstairs?” Reigen asks.
“Yeah,” Serizawa says. The question seems safe enough to answer.
“Hm. Did you see a kid up there?” Reigen isn’t looking at him. It looks like he’s reached some kind of decision.
“What?”
“Fourteen, skinny, bowl cut. He’d probably have been wearing a school uniform.”
Reigen’s expression is a little vulnerable now, and Serizawa realizes that he’s finally going to accomplish his task here. The success doesn’t feel as good as it should. Serizawa’s chest feels uncomfortably tight.
“I haven’t seen him. Sorry.”
Reigen lets his head fall back against the wall. “Damn.”
“Who is he?”
Reigen sighs. “My student. He’s always getting into trouble, but this is something else. He didn’t show up today. I had to track his cellphone. I wasn’t sure why he’d be all the way out here, but something tells me it wasn’t by choice.”
“Probably not,” Serizawa says. His face feels numb and cold.
Reigen eyes him for a moment. “He’s a pretty special kid. He can do some amazing things.” He raises a hand and wiggles his fingers demonstratively.
“He’s an esper?” Serizawa blurts out, shocked.
“That’s one way of putting it. But yeah, he has psychic powers.”
Serizawa’s hands curl into fists in his lap.
“He’s really strong, actually. Some of the things I’ve seen him do—unbelievable. This one time—”
“Maybe he should be locked up,” Serizawa says quietly.
Reigen stops. “Excuse me?”
“If he’s as strong as you say… he’s dangerous. He could hurt someone. Powers like that need to be contained,” Serizawa says. The words feel like they’re being dragged out of his core.
“If you believe that, you’re an idiot.” Reigen’s voice is low and cold. “He’s not dangerous. He’s fourteen. He doesn’t deserve to be locked away.”
“What if he hurts someone?” Serizawa argues, a little desperate, “Espers are dangerous. He could kill someone without even meaning to. Who’s going to take responsibility, you?”
“If it comes to that, yes. As his master, what he does with his powers is my responsibility. But he wouldn’t, and he won’t. Mob’s worked really hard to get his powers under control, and he deserves to live his life.”
God. Serizawa can feel himself tearing up, but forces it back.
He notices a flaw in Reigen's story.
“You’re his master? But you’re not an esper,” Serizawa says.
Reigen looks at him steadily. “And how would you know?”
Serizawa opens his mouth to reply, but stops. All the air leaves his lungs in a rush.
“You knew,” Serizawa says numbly.
Reigen laughs. It’s not a particularly nice sound.
“Yeah, it wasn’t hard to figure out. You’re not very good at lying, Serizawa. Your face really is very expressive,” Reigen says, not unkindly.
“Look, I realize you’ve had it rough, here. But you have to know that locking up psychic kids is wrong. It was wrong with you, and it’s wrong now. These people don’t get to decide who deserves to live freely, and it’s not your fault you were born with powers.”
Serizawa looks at his hands. There's no point in maintaining the charade now.
“I couldn’t control them, before," he says quietly. He doesn't look up. "Outside. I wasn’t ever going to be able to live a normal life. It didn’t really seem to matter where I was living, knowing that. At least here people know what to expect.”
“I can’t say I know how you feel, because I don’t. But how do you know you can’t control them outside, if you’ve been trapped in here for, what, fifteen years?”
“Eighteen,” Serizawa corrects absently.
“Damn, eighteen. Okay. But you were a child, before. I’d be really surprised if your control hasn’t gotten better since then.”
“Our leader has a way to drain the excess energy, so I don’t explode,” Serizawa says.
Reigen whistles softly. “Okay, now that sounds like the real reason you’re here, Serizawa. They didn’t kidnap you when you were twelve because they wanted to help you. You realize that, right? That sounds shady as hell. Do your parents even know you’re alive?”
“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” Serizawa says. The tears he’d been trying to hold back slip free.
Reigen scoots forward, and rests a slightly-bloodied hand on Serizawa’s shoulder.
“Then don’t. I know it’s not that simple. But as long as you’re trying, that’s what matters. Your powers are a tool; you don’t have to let them control you. Hell, you haven’t hurt me yet, and I’ve been really obnoxious.”
Reigen grins at him, and Serizawa smiles weakly.
“You know, you should talk to Mob about this. He’s always been afraid of hurting people, but if you could see how far he’s come since I’ve known him—I think you’d have a lot in common.”
Serizawa draws in a shaky breath.
“I’m sorry I lied to you,” he says quietly.
For the first time that night, Reigen looks awkward.
“Hey, don’t worry about it. It’s not a big deal. But I really do need your help. If you want to make it up to me, how about helping me bust out of here? We can go find Mob and get the hell out of this shithole.”
Reigen gets up, steadying himself on the wall. Serizawa looks at him uncertainly. Reigen gives him a warm, genuine smile.
“Come on. Come with me,” he says, and stretches out his hand.
Serizawa stares at him. In the balance of things, this feels like the first real decision Serizawa has made for himself since he was brought here.
After a moment Serizawa takes it, and stands.