Work Text:
Wishing you could keep me closer
I'm a lazy dancer
There was a familiarity in the way Reigen walked beside Mob, limping a little and slightly off kilter with a shoe missing from his right foot. Toying absently with the wrinkles of his now not-so-white dress shirt brought him back to the memory. At least this time he had managed to keep his tie and jacket. And maybe he was a little less beat up this time around, but it was too soon to say for sure. He might feel differently in the morning. But right now things were alright.
He was alive; his plan had been a success; Mob was here. Reluctantly, sure, but he was here. There was a comfort in the silence between them as they trudged back towards what Reigen thought was the direction of the road where he had watched the befuddled taxi driver head back towards Seasoning City. They would get ramen and Mob would only open his mouth when he was sure of precisely what he wanted to say (it would probably be school related) and Reigen would smile at him - a real one, not the type he flashed at customers. They would not, under the watchful eyes of the full moon and the stars and whatever else might be out here in these woods at night, spare a moment to regard what might have happened if Mob hadn’t shown up. Because Mob had shown up, just as Reigen had shown up for him - before disaster struck.
But it wasn’t as if Reigen considered this a repayment of debt owed. In fact this had probably tilted the scales again in Reigen’s favor, only months after he had finally made a real effort to balance them. He stubbed his toe on something and swore through clenched teeth. Perhaps there was a more troubling perspective to consider regarding their current situation, but Reigen was too tired (or maybe too cowardly) to flesh it out right now.
“Master, are you sure this is the way back to the road?”
“Yes, I remember these trees!” He gestures vaguely at the greyish shapes around them, clearly too dark to fully make out even with the help of the moonlight.
“Hm,” is all Mob says in turn, and Reigen is suddenly very desperate to put this day behind him - far behind him.
It turns out they were actually headed in the right direction, though, reaching the road after about ten minutes more of trekking through mud and dirt and leaves. But as soon as they broke through the brush to the road stretching left and right, they both recognized what they had failed to consider until now: the issue of transportation. Mob kicked a rock into the street, they made eye contact, and Reigen scrambled for a halfway decent solution.
“How did you get here, Mob?”
“My dad drove me. I told him I was meeting a friend.”
“Out here? In the middle of nowhere?”
Mob keeps a steady gaze on him and Reigen realizes this was probably not the right moment to call his dad’s parenting in question. “I just meant, um, that you must have your phone on you right? In case of emergencies? Let’s call for a ride.”
“Ah, I was in such a rush that I left it at home...”
“Oh. Well I, uh, lost mine back there, unfortunately.” He jabs a thumb back toward the trees. “Took a little tumble,” he chuckles weakly, scratching his head. Yeah, this really wouldn’t be the right time to question Mr. Kageyama’s judgement.
Mob looks like he’s regretting this more and more with each passing second. Reigen knows he has to save this somehow. “Let’s just start walking. I’m sure we’ll find a payphone or something and I can call for a cab. I’ve got a bit of change in my pockets, I think.” But as he feels around he realizes the change is gone too - there’s a hole in the left pocket of his pants, which is of course where his change was. Typical. He swivels on his heel and begins confidently moving in the direction of town anyways, trying not to feel the way Mob is eyeing him from behind. Confidence is his specialty, after all - right after lying, of course
“Mob, you coming?”
Mob quickens his pace to match Reigen’s stride, and Reigen launches into a spiel about how this is a good opportunity for his pupil to put all the stamina he’s been building up through the body improvement club to good use. Eventually Mob interjects, probably tired of waiting for a natural break in his master’s chatter. “I have some change. I must have left it in my pockets from another time.”
Reigen claps his hands together. “Excellent work, Mob! Now we just have to find a payphone.”
They walk several more minutes before, by an incredible stroke of luck, actually finding one. Reigen was beginning to sweat thinking that the era of payphones might very well have concluded. So when he finally spotted it, he actually felt a lump in his throat, so incredibly happy to be right. “Aha!” he exclaimed, and when he held it up to his ear, relief flooded his body upon hearing a dial tone. It was not only here, but it still worked.
“Mob, let me see how much you have.” He held his hand out and Mob counted the money out to him. It was just enough. Reigen inserted the change with shaky fingers and then faltered - he didn’t know the phone number of any cab companies offhand. Of course he didn’t. He tapped his foot, Mob standing off to the side expectantly. He could try for the operator and perhaps get transferred to a cab company that way, but he didn’t want to risk that not panning out and them being out of money and out of ways to communicate in the middle of nowhere at night. No, there was just one person to call that he could definitely rely on, so he quickly dialed the number. As it rang, he had a brief, panicked moment that there would be no answer, and then what? But after a few rings there was a “Hello?” - somewhat muffled and tinny through the old fashioned receiver but still distinctly the voice Reigen was hoping to hear.
“Serizawa!”
“Reigen? Is that you?”
“Yeah, it’s me. I’m with Mob. We’re out past the-“
“Oh my god, you’re okay. I’ve been trying to get in contact for the past hour.”
His tone, strained and almost frantic sounding, catches Reigen off guard. But then he remembers the nasty hit the esper took earlier and thinks he’s probably just dazed. He probably has a concussion, Reigen realizes, and his stomach sinks. This is his fault, somehow. It always is.
“Reigen? Hello?”
He snaps out of it, whatever self-loathing spiral he was headed for taking the back burner to the much more pressing need to get out of the chilly nighttime air and back to civilization before the sun rises. “Yeah I’m here, Seri. Like I was saying, we’re a little bit past the old bridge, the one that crosses the river? On the road. Can you call us a cab? We don’t have a phone. I lost mine.” He lets out a laugh (a little shaky, but hopefully Serizawa can’t tell) and gestures habitually along with it.
“Yeah, of course - of course I can, Reigen. Where should I tell them to meet you?”
Reigen is pretty sure there’s a small inn not far down the road, so he gives what he thinks is the name of it to Serizawa.
“Okay, I’ll take care of it.”
“Thank you, Serizawa. You’re a lifesaver.”
“Yeah.”
There’s a tension that makes Reigen grow anxious, his palms becoming sweaty as he grips the phone a little tighter. Or maybe it’s just the method of conversation making this feel uncomfortable all of a sudden - they don’t talk much on the phone to each other. They haven’t much needed to, and when they do need to get in contact, they text.
“Reigen, are you still there?”
“Yes - yeah. I’m good. I’ll see you later I guess? I’ll still come into work tomorrow, don’t worry!” Another laugh - a little forced, maybe, but better than letting the word “worry” sit and fester there and remind them both of the many things they aren’t saying right now that they probably should. But Mob is standing within earshot, Reigen reasons. This is neither the time nor the place.
“Yes, I’ll see you later. I found the address to that inn. I’ll call a cab right away. Get home safe, Reigen.”
Something in his employee’s tone sounds a little too polished, too formal. It made Reigen’s heart sink a little bit, because weren’t they supposed to be friends now? He thought they were. But he’s just overthinking it - it’s late and he’s exhausted and he’s been walking along with only one goddamn shoe for the past 30 minutes. He pushes everything out but the task at hand.
“Okay Mob, the car is going to meet us at an inn down the road. Let’s get walking.”
It takes Serizawa, by his own estimate, approximately 6 minutes to calm himself down enough to dial the number and call for the cab without making a stuttering fool of himself. He feels horrible waiting that long, thinking Reigen and Mob must be exhausted and desperate to get off their feet. He wonders when they’ll get back. He wonders exactly what happened and how, and why Reigen thought that any of it was a good idea in the first place. He had gotten a bit out of Tome when she insisted on accompanying him home (since he refused to go to the hospital), and the rest he had pieced together through educated guess. While he was unconscious, Reigen had taken the burden of the curse from Tome and placed it on himself, and then he had rushed off, leaving Tome and Dimple to explain it to Serizawa when he woke up. He wasn’t knocked out for long, Dimple told him, just a couple of minutes, but long enough for Reigen to make an impulsive decision without considering its impact on anyone else.
Oh .
He sits up in bed - a little too quickly, making himself dizzy. He probably has a concussion, but there was nothing the hospital could do about that anyways, besides tell him what he already knows about its effects, and charge him a fee he probably couldn’t afford. Right now he was more concerned with the sudden, strong emotion flaring up in his chest.
Serizawa is angry. This is a distressing realization, because as emotional of a person as he is, he hardly ever feels anger in response to anything. Even when considering his past in Claw, the way he had been used by Toichiro, and the years of time he had wasted, anger is rarely central to the way he processes his experiences. But he definitely feels it now, coaxing him to move, to go somewhere and do something, anything, to steady himself. So he stood, threw on the pair of sweatpants that was laying haphazardly on the floor by his bed, grabbed a jacket, and headed out into the crisp evening air.
It’s the coldest night he can remember in weeks, summer finally slipping into fall, and Serizawa considers that Reigen and Mob must have been walking in this same cold. Hopefully Reigen at least has his jacket this time, Serizawa thinks, and feels the heat of anger again, speeding his heart rate and making his palms sweat. He quickens his pace and stuffs his hands into his pockets. He breathes a sigh of relief when he feels his one-hitter and a lighter in one of them, and quickly lights up and takes a long drag without bothering to consider the risks involved in getting caught with weed on the street like this.
He doesn’t have a destination in mind, because frankly he’s never felt like escaping from home during a moment of emotional turmoil before, usually finding much more comfort in closing himself off and shutting down completely. But he’s trying to be less critical and judgmental of his emotions, like his therapist suggests. If there’s an emotion bubbling up, it’s there for a reason and shouldn’t be forced back down. He just needs to figure out what’s going on behind the scenes that brought it on. And walking seems to help him process.
He checks his phone for the time and then checks his texts - purely muscle memory, he thinks, from the hour or two he spent anxiously waiting for any word from his boss on his whereabouts. Of course, there was still no response, because Reigen had lost his phone somewhere in the woods. Reigen had lost his phone in the woods while a nasty spirit roamed freely there and a bone-chilling curse was slowly sucking the life out of him. He knew it was the same woods they had gotten into trouble in just a few days prior, although Reigen hadn’t said so. The address of the inn was pretty far, at least a good 30 minutes out of town, so Serizawa knew Reigen must have been pretty much in the middle of nowhere. It added up. Reigen had gone all the way out there alone, telling no one, especially not Serizawa. Not even a text for him to read when he woke up on the couch of Spirits and Such, Tome staring down at him with a concerned look and Dimple with his arms crossed, an unreadable expression on his face.
Oh.
Something finally clicks as Serizawa witnesses the cityscape slowly morph from mostly residential buildings to mostly businesses of all kinds as he keeps walking. He is angry at Reigen. This was a first. He had felt annoyed with Reigen before, maybe even a bit irritated, but never before had he been angry with him. For a brief moment he found himself panicking - he couldn’t be angry with his boss, that would make both of their lives difficult, since they had to see each other every day. It was unavoidable. But he couldn’t avoid his feelings either, and right now the thought of Reigen was triggering this emotion to plant itself firmly in Serizawa’s gut.
He thought back to a couple hours prior, when he had felt absolutely and totally helpless, trying to get in touch with Reigen and having no success, and neither Tome or Dimple knowing where he had gone - which reminds him, he’d better send Tome a quick text to let her know Reigen is alright. As he sends it, he realizes that it might not even be the full truth. He has no idea what happened to Reigen way out there, because Reigen didn’t say. Reigen says what he thinks people want to hear, and maybe not even Serizawa is an exception to this rule. This brings on an additional feeling, a kind of hollowness that reminds Serizawa of lower points in his life. For all intents and purposes, Serizawa has considered Reigen a friend for some time now, not just a boss. And yet, he wonders with disdain, how can he really call it friendship if Reigen can’t drop his act for even a minute?
He stops in the middle of the sidewalk, willing himself to take a deep breath and gaze up at the dim light of the stars. The faint purple of his aura cools and fades from his fingertips. Now he’s being unfair - he knows there have been many occasions in which Reigen had let his guard down enough to show Serizawa his genuine self. In fact, he concludes, it’s that very truth that makes this evening’s events bother him so much. Reigen has been willing to show vulnerability before, so why not now? Why today did he choose to throw caution to the wind again and take it all upon himself, when he has Serizawa?
He reaches a familiar corner and realizes he’s walking himself towards the office, probably out of habit, seeing as he takes this same journey on foot five or sometimes even six days a week. There’s usually a flutter of excitement that accompanies the outline of the building entering his line of sight, where he takes a moment to appreciate his quiet adult life with a real job and someone to talk to every day. Right now, however, it just piles onto his frustration. Has all this been for nothing? Is he really making any connections in this life, or is he just going through the motions?
He has his mom somehow, despite everything. He has friends from school, whom he isn’t especially close to but feels comfortable enough to chat and joke with, something he wouldn’t have dared to dream of even two or three years ago. Which actually reminds him - he left his schoolbag in the office. Since he’s already here and isn’t counting on the pleasant relief of drowsiness to hit him anytime soon, he might as well grab it so he can do some homework tonight.
He doesn’t have his key so he uses his powers to unlock the door, which makes him feel strangely guilty even though he knows Reigen wouldn’t care. Once inside, he flicks on the lights and realizes that yes, he almost assuredly did get concussed, because several things in the normally tidy office are significantly out of place in a way that Serizawa knows he’d remember if he hadn’t been slammed up against a wall. There’s a blanket on the couch, for one thing, and the decorative pillows are on the floor. The tea table is pushed to the side an awkward angle. Oh, and there’s the huge crack in the wall that was undoubtedly made by Serizawa’s head. He winces and feels around for a bump - which, now that he’s paying attention, is definitely there, and still very tender.
Ow .
He doesn’t quite remember where he left his bag, but he usually keeps it under his own desk so he sits down heavily in the chair, wheels it back from the tabletop and peers underneath, and yep - it’s sitting there waiting for him. He reaches for it and catches the shadow of Reigen’s desk in his peripheral vision. There’s nothing at all unusual about it being empty at this late hour but it digs a pit into his stomach to see it like this. That… probably means something important, he concludes. But he’s running low on energy for emotional bravery by this point so he quickly picks up his bag and moves to leave - and that’s when he hears the creak of footsteps on the stairs and the sound of the door opening.
It’s later than Reigen planned on when they finally make it into the city, so they take a rain check on the ramen and Mob bids Reigen farewell with a small wave and a nod before opening his gate and entering his home. Reigen has the driver wait a moment so he can make sure Mob gets inside safely, and then gives him the office address. The office is the last place he should be going right now but he wants to put a few things in order and regain a small sense of normalcy or else he knows he won’t sleep tonight.
When he’s paying the fare, he squints up at the office window that faces the street. The shades are drawn but it looks like there’s light spilling through the small gap between shade and windowsill. Not surprising, considering the chaos of the afternoon. Tome probably didn’t think to turn off the lights. A little more concerning is that she also left the door unlocked, so Reigen enters cautiously, always preparing for the worst. His heart stops in his chest when there is someone inside, but then he realizes it’s Serizawa and he drops his defenses.
Maybe he does a little too good a job lowering his guard because Serizawa is making a face at him like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Well he supposes he does probably look like absolute shit right now, after prowling around in the woods for a couple hours. He haphazardly makes an effort to straighten his tie and run a hand through his hair. He clears his throat to say something to lighten the tension he senses between them, but Serizawa jumps in before he can get a word out.
“Oh my god, Reigen. What are you doing here?”
“It’s my office, why can’t I be in my own office?” Augh - he really struck the wrong tone right off the bat. He rubs his temples. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I just didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I didn’t plan on seeing you here either. I was just getting my bag. I accidentally left it here earlier…” He trails off, gripping his arm and avoiding eye contact. He suddenly feels exhausted and everything he thought he might say to his friend no longer seems appropriate, not while Reigen is standing here looking like he’s been hit by a tornado. “If you’d like to be alone, I’ll go.”
“No,” Reigen says, a little too loud and a little too fast. “You - you don’t have to. I’m just gonna be a few minutes, I think. If you wanted to wait.”
“Okay.” Serizawa drops his bag on the ground beside him to emphasize his decision. He moves to the couch and fiddles with his phone until he can’t take the silence anymore.
“You went back to that forest, didn’t you?”
Reigen meets the esper’s eyes as his computer buzzes to life. “Yes, I did.”
“Why?”
“It was the only way to save everyone.”
“Not everyone.” Serizawa feels the anger returning, and he doesn’t intend for the venomous edge in his tone but it comes out before he can filter it. “What about you, Reigen?”
“What about me? It was really my fault in the first place. No one else but me could have dealt with it.” He starts typing away - notes about the case, surely - and Serizawa hates that Reigen expects this to be the end of it
“That’s bullshit.” Reigen stops what he’s doing, his eyes growing wide in surprise at seeing this side of his employee. Serizawa, admittedly, is a little shocked too - he hasn’t snapped at anyone like this since the days his mother pushed one too many therapists and healers onto him. But he plows on, because this anger feels important, and he fears that if he doesn’t say it all now he never will, that they’ll greet each other in a few hours, drink tea, and prepare for the workday as if none of this ever happened.
“I’m sorry but you always say that - that you’re the only one who can handle it, when something big comes up. It makes me feel invisible and unimportant.”
“Seri, I-“
“Do you really see me as a friend? Because friends are supposed to be able to rely on each other, Reigen. You tell me that all the time. But you leave me out of the loop, and then run off and almost get yourself killed, and expect that everything will just be fine?”
Serizawa isn’t even raising his voice much but Reigen feels like each word he says echoes out painfully in his ears. He wants to be anywhere but here. He wants to make any excuse to go home and will everything to go back to how it was before today. He wants to smoke a cigarette even though he quit, to punish himself for fucking up his one real human connection with another adult. Instead he wills himself to speak (something which rarely takes this much conviction on his part).
“Serizawa, I’m sorry. I’m really, truly sorry.” The esper seems to be letting the apology settle in, so Reigen presses on. “I’m not a good person, Serizawa. I’m always hurting people, either by pushing them away or letting them get too close and falling right into danger. That’s what happened with Tome.”
“I... I don’t think you’re a bad person, Reigen. You help people. You’ve helped me. And more importantly, you’ve never made me feel like I owe you anything. But I’m not doing this as a favor to you - this friendship, that is, if that’s what we can still call it. I’m your friend because I like you - the real you, not the persona.” Serizawa grabs one of the pillows from the floor and hugs it to his chest, because confrontation is not his strong suit, even now. For a split second he almost laughs, because he can tell that Reigen hates this as much as he does, if not more. He’s digging his nails into his skin and bouncing his leg erratically under the desk.
“I don’t want to be your paid bodyguard, Reigen. I spent three years like that, and it made me feel more helpless than ever.” He takes a deep breath. “I want to be your partner. And I don’t mean in title, either - though deputy director still sounds cool, thank you.” Reigen’s lips briefly turn up into a weak but genuine smile, and Serizawa returns it before growing solemn again. “I would like it if we could start making decisions together. I don’t want you to shut me out. Toichiro always kept me out of his plans; he only ever told me what he absolutely had to. I hated that.” He stares at the dent in the wall and suddenly feels very embarrassed to be saying so much outside of his therapist’s office.
“I want that too.” Reigen’s voice lacks its usual presence and authority. Serizawa suddenly thinks he looks very small and helpless, sitting hunched over at his desk. Reigen slowly stands up (a little shakily, Serizawa notes) and bridges most of the space between them, sitting on the edge of the tea table and crossing one leg over the other. Serizawa notices with amusement that the man is only wearing one shoe, the big toe on his right foot peaking through a hole in his very dirty sock.
“I apologize for saying so much out of the blue. I know it’s a lot.”
“Seri, it’s okay.” Reigen leans forward and places a hand gently on his friend’s shoulder. “I appreciate it. I… I probably needed to hear this, actually.” He chuckles but there’s no humor in it. There’s a beat, and Reigen suddenly feels really self-conscious and removes his hand from its place on the esper’s left shoulder. “I really am sorry, Serizawa. Your friendship… it means the world to me. I don’t want to lose you.” Reigen reaches up to move his bangs off his sweaty forehead and Serizawa follows his movements with his eyes, feeling frozen in place when he sees a tear sneak down the man’s cheek.
“I don’t want to lose you either. Why do you think I was so worried?” And oh great, now he’s crying too. It’s not the first time Reigen has seen the esper cry but usually it’s just rooted in anxiety - a particularly overwhelming day; the sudden onset of panic that left him breathless, heart pounding in his ears. This time it’s different, more intimate, and it ends up with red eyes and puffy cheeks for both of them, until suddenly a switch flips in Serizawa’s brain and he starts laughing as he meets Reigen’s gaze with tear-stained cheeks. Reigen has snot dripping from his nose and he grabs a tissue from the table as he laughs too, almost like a hiccup. Serizawa grabs one too, and their knees touch in the process, their hands brushing as Reigen goes for a second tissue at almost the same time. There’s another ephemeral shift between them (Serizawa is just about convinced he’s going to have emotional whiplash after today), and this time he feels a shortness of breath and a pounding in his ears that feels altogether unnerving, but not unpleasant.
Reigen is staring, and it’s far from the first time Serizawa has seen this expression directed at him, but it is the first time he finally feels like he understands the meaning behind it. He finishes what Reigen started, bridging the gap entirely to press his lips against Reigen’s. It’s not the right angle, and Reigen is tensed up and timid, but Serizawa whispers something reassuring and runs his hand through the man’s bleached hair and he relaxes into the kiss, then returns it hungrily. It’s a little much for one day though, and even though a desperate part of Serizawa wants much more of this, he ends it after a minute or two, decidedly reaching his limit for emotional vulnerability for today.
Reigen doesn’t protest - he feels the same way - and a quick glance at the state of him is surely enough for Serizawa to understand how profoundly exhausted he is. Serizawa sighs, Reigen stands up, and promptly smacks his toe against a table leg, swearing. Serizawa giggles despite himself. “What happened to your other shoe?”
“Nature happened,” and he throws his hands up in mock frustration as Serizawa stands and picks his bag back up from the floor.
“Actually,” the taller man says, as they finally lock up for the night, “I lost my left shoe when the spirit attacked me. I was so disoriented that I walked home with just the one. When we got to my front door, Tome thrust it into my hands. I hadn’t even realized she was carrying it for me.” They both laugh as they step out into the late night air. Reigen shivers, and Serizawa slips his jacket over the smaller man’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine like this,” he says, before Reigen can protest.
“You know,” Reigen says, sparing no time stuffing his hands into the jacket’s warm pockets, “I think we make a good team, Katsuya.”
Serizawa watches the man he cares for so deeply fiddle with the zipper on the much-too-large jacket and feels warmth surround him as his powers react to his mood and the sound of his name in Reigen’s voice.
“Yes Arataka, we really do.”