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He doesn’t really remember how he got into this mess.
He’s sure that if he tried long enough, if he thought long and hard about it, it would come back to him. It’s not like the memory is far-off. His body is still very much intact and functioning. But for now, it’s not so much the situation as it is the fact that he’s out of the situation that really matters.
Except, there is the fact that the city has practically caved in on itself and he’s standing in the midst of it, breathing hard and injured in ways he doesn’t have nearly enough coherency to determine. That kind of matters, too.
With a rush of breath, his arms drop to his sides and his throat is raw from the dust in the air. His body aches and burns. It feels like every nerve within him is being twisted and squeezed. It leaves him breathless in the worst kind of way, but he forces himself to breathe through it.
“Shigeo!”
He doesn’t acknowledge the shout at first, too consumed with his own silent mantra of keep breathing, keep breathing, keep breathing.
“Shigeo!”
He only clicks with it now, and he turns and looks over his shoulder, ignoring the shocks and aches that tumble throughout his body.
Reigen is running towards him, still shouting with the urgency of someone who’s been doing it for a while with no results. His coat is gone and his white shirt is tattered in places and torn in others.
He called him “Shigeo,” though.
Shigeo.
Huh.
He doesn’t think Reigen’s ever actually… called him that, before. It sounds weird, coming from him. Foreign. Like a sour note in a familiar tune. It doesn’t particularly bother him, just leaves him. Stunned. Just a little.
He hadn’t realized how close Reigen had become until he can hear the pound of his footfalls, loud and getting louder. He opens his mouth to say something, to promise that he’s okay–except–
Reigen doesn’t s top.
He slams into Shigeo, arms wrapping tight around his shoulders. Shigeo’s breath is gone from his lungs and his sight explodes with fireworks of stars and sparks, but the pain is only temporary. Especially when he realizes they’ve stopped moving, that Reigen’s arms are still around him, that they’re both still alive.
“Oh my god, oh my god, Shigeo–”
Reigen’s voice is thick and a part of Shigeo wants to say something to comfort him, but he doesn’t have the energy.
“What the hell were you thinking, I–you could’ve–what the hell, Shigeo, what the hell–”
He’s saying his name a lot, right now. Shigeo doesn’t know why and he can’t ask.
“Don’t do that again, don’t ever do that again, don’t you dare–”
“I’m okay,” Shigeo manages, but his knees give out and while the weight is sapped from his words, Reigen takes on the weight of his body.
“Oh, god, you’re bleeding–I’m sorry, I should’ve checked your injuries first–”
“S’okay,” Shigeo gets out, breath nearly gone. “I’m sorry for scaring you. But… I’m glad you’re okay.”
Reigen releases a bout of giddy, somewhat hysteric laughter, but the arms around Shigeo’s shoulders hold tighter. “I’m glad you’re okay, too, kiddo.”
There’s something behind those words that suggests they will definitely be talking about this later, but that’ll come later. For now, the weight lifts from his chest, and Shigeo is asleep before he realizes he’s closed his eyes.