Chapter Text
“Ritsu.” Mob murmurs yet again, breaking the silence of their conversation. “You really don’t have to walk me there.”
Looking or being pissy isn’t new to Ritsu at this point, but he seems exceptionally annoyed at the mention of Reigen this time. Maybe coming home without washing the blood off of himself wasn’t actually as foolproof as Mob thought. “Oh, no, I know. You keep saying that.”
“Because you really don’t have to. I’m fine.” He can’t help but smile a bit at his brother’s worry on his behalf. With the way he looked at him when he came home late and a little injured, one would think that Ritsu hadn’t gotten his ass kicked near to death along with everyone else not too long ago when fighting Super 5.
“I know.” Ritsu repeats. “We’re almost there anyway.” He looks up at the sky, glad to see the previous day’s looming rain clouds had dispersed enough for the blue sky to peek out in patches behind the woolly blanket of white. “If Reigen sends you home with blood on you again I’ll send him home with Ekubo.” He grumbles.
“That’s a bit harsh.” Mob quips. Though Ekubo isn’t there, he can practically hear the small ball of a spirit sob in betrayal. “Besides, Shishou and I didn’t have any jobs yesterday. It happened on the way, he couldn’t have done anything more than he did.”
Ritsu’s brow furrows a bit. “W...What? Did you get jumped?” Seeing his brother nod, he looks incredulous, frowning and pointing an accusing finger at him. “What the hell? How can you survive being thrown through buildings by an adult esper but come home injured from some dumb thugs on the street???”
Stride stopping suddenly, Mob turns toward the building.“Oh, we’re here.”
“Hey--! Don’t ignore me…!” Watching his brother walk ahead and into the building, Ritsu rubs at his sweaty forehead and pinches the bridge of his nose, following him inside. Letting the sounds of their footsteps climbing the stair well be the only sound in the air for a moment, Ritsu finally continues. There’s something in his voice that he doesn’t realize is there until the words are already out. It almost sounds like the bitterness that he had let pool inside him, and it makes both of their paces falter a little. “You’ve used your powers to protect yourself before, why was yesterday any different?”
Their footsteps punctuate the silence again and Ritsu almost thinks that Mob isn’t going to answer. “...Shishou told me,” He murmurs at first, but steadies his voice back to a reasonable volume. “Shishou told me that I shouldn’t use my powers on people who don’t have them.” Ritsu thinks back to what happened when they were kids, and Mob goes on. “Our abilities are like knives, Ritsu. You wouldn’t point a knife at someone, would you?” The reasoning and even word choice sounds like it was ripped straight from Reigen and Ritsu can’t tell if he finds that funny or annoying.
They come to the door of Reigen’s office and as Mob reaches for the handle, Ritsu grumbles, “I would if it was self defense.”
The door opens with a slight whine of the hinges and jingle of the knob. Almost immediately, Reigen greets him, standing up from his desk. “Ah, Mob, just in time! A client…” He trails off, noticing his student’s brother like a ghost behind him, the older brother walking into the room while the younger is left behind at the threshold with a particular look of distaste for him. “Oh, Ritsu. Long time no see.” He waves, but is met with the long, unwavering stare of Ritsu’s annoyance. He shuts the door suddenly and leaves.
Looking to Mob, who is setting his school bag down next to the couch, he huffs a confused laugh. “Did your brother just come along to glare at me?”
“It wasn’t the whole reason. He wanted to walk me here.”
Laughing airily, Reigen thinks about whether or not the two of them are more alike or more different now that their personalities are growing and changing. Not able to discern the answer, he shrugs it off entirely and turns back to the matter at hand. “Anyway. Mob! We have a client calling in soon.” Leaning against his desk within reach of the phone, Reigen crosses his arms. “I say ‘calling in’ instead of ‘coming in’ because she’s stuck in her house.”
“Oh. Is she okay?”
He waves it off with a half sure smile. “Yeah, I’m sure she’s fine. She sounded annoyed more than anything when she called initially. She’s convinced that a spirit is keeping her from leaving.”
“Like Mogami did at Asagiri’s mansion?” Mob mumbles, remembering that day with a bitter sting.
Snapping his fingers and pointing at him, Reigen grins. “Bingo. If that hadn’t happened, I guess I would have just assumed it was something wrong with the door hinges, or maybe something was just in the way. It seems likely enough though, don’t you think?”
Thinking over it, Mob wonders if Mogami was able to barricade the door so tightly because he was that strong. Whatever spirit is there, he’s positive that it won’t be anywhere near Mogami’s level. (He’s not sure there’s many spirits stronger than Mogami, and it sort of sets him at ease.) “I think you’re right, Shishou. It shouldn’t be too hard.”
As if on cue, the phone rings. Reigen pauses to let it ring twice despite his hand hovering over it, not wanting to come across as if he’s in too much of a rush nor too lax. The call is fast since more of the nitty gritty details of the deal were dealt with earlier while he was at school. After a minute, the phone is set on its receiver again and Reigen is straightening to his feet, walking to the door with his hands in his pockets. “Alright Mob, let’s head out.”
---
It’s too far to walk without making their client wait, so they took a taxi. The entire ride there, Mob found his mind drifting between the conversation he had with Ritsu earlier and the memories of Mogami. He thinks about what would have happened if Ritsu had been jumped, not him. Would he rather he get himself hurt by not fighting back? He’s not sure. Should he fight back next time? But he fought back before, and Ritsu hated him for it, didn’t he. He scared him when he fought back.
His rambling thoughts are interrupted by Reigen patting his shoulder, looking confused as to why he’s still sitting in the cab when they’ve been stopped at their destination for a minute or two now. “Hey, Mob. We’re here, kid.”
“Ah. Sorry.”
Paying the driver and waving him off, they’re left alone out front of their targeted house. Opening and closing the gate as they enter the yard, Mob feels a prickle in his skin, a strange cold heat wash over him as his eyes land on a fluffy white cat clawing at the front door. A flash of sickness hits him but Reigen snaps him out of the thoughts that threatened to pool in his vacant mind, patting his back a bit roughly to bring him back to attention. “Do you see or feel anything?”
Tearing his eyes away from the cat, he looks around at the house in front of them. “I don’t see anything, but I feel something.” If he focuses hard enough, he thinks he can see the faint flicker of a ghostly aura inside the house somewhere. “Something’s in there.”
Grinning a little, Reigen sinks his hands into his pockets again and strides up to the porch, regarding the cat with a passing look before knocking on the door. “Miss Miyazaki, we’re here.”
There’s a clambering inside the house and Mob feels the aura of the spirit come closer, a faint glow around the door frame. “Y-Yes, you’re here! Thank you, thank you!” She sounds frantic and Mob wonders how long she’s been trapped.
Seeing the silently questioning look Reigen gives him, Mob focuses on the spirit. The barrier around the door is weak, probably just strong enough to keep the poor woman inside. “Ma’am, why are you keeping her in there?” He murmurs.
There’s a faint voice, so quiet that he almost didn’t hear all the words. “My……-tiful daughter…” It’s raspy voice of a tired woman that accompanies a very slight increase in strength of the barrier on the door. “Pl...ease...my baby girl…”
Leaning in a bit closer to Mob in confusion, he whispers, “Are you talking to it?”
He nods. “Yeah. She’s not an evil spirit.” Reigen looks confused at that, but he doesn’t try to interfere (the situation with that family of ghosts a while back comes to mind and he frowns).
Turning his attention back to the spirit inhabiting the door, Mob tilts his head a little. “You’re Miss Miyazaki’s mom.” There’s only raspy breathing in response so he continues. “Why are you keeping her trapped?”
“...Prote...ct. My daughter. My sweet…” Something in her disembodied voice makes a surge of emotion run through him, his heart twisting. “I won’t let...anyone hurt her. I can’t let anyone hurt my....”
A wave of memories that aren’t his run through his mind, the sound of a scream and a struggle, wood splintering. Mob finds himself touching the door and he realizes the wood is brand new, newer than the old and worn wood of the house itself. Dark figures race through his mind and muffled words and blood. “...Mrs. Miyazaki, can you let us in?” Mob whispers, eyes wide.
“I...I can’t, I told you, I can’t open the door…!” Their client huffs, annoyed and frantic. “Y-You’re supposed to be helping me to get out of here, i-if I could open the door I would!”
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t asking you, Miss Miyazaki.”
Suddenly, the door clicks open, the knob untouched. It’s opened just a sliver and Miyazaki can’t believe it. A panicked breath escaping her, she closes it quickly. “T-Thank you for fixing the door, please leave, I’ll slip the money u-under!”
“Our job isn’t done yet.” Mob announces, much to both of their confusion. The door is still shut, but now that her energy isn’t dedicated to keeping the house locked down, he can see the faint aura of the dead woman inside, standing patiently. “She needs closure.”
“...Our job was to make sure there wasn’t any closure.” Reigen quips. Mob looks at him, unimpressed.
Finally, the alive Miyazaki opens the door, her trembling hand hidden but given away by the sound of the doorknob shaking in her grip. She peeks out at them and they realize then how frail and sickly she looks. She can’t be that old, maybe a young adult. The way her hair falls reminds him a little too much of Minori Asagiri and he forces the thought from his mind. “P...Please. D-Don’t mind...the mess.”
The house is dark and Reigen looks surprisingly on edge, if only slightly. Mob feels unnaturally calm, even for himself. Knowing that this is just a mother protecting her daughter, it makes him sad more than anything. “So, Mob-” Reigen mumbles. “What do you need to do in here?”
“She needs closure.” He repeats. Reigen feels like just maybe this has something to do with the birds from yesterday.
Sitting down on the chairs she set out for them, Reigen leans back so that two of the legs are off the floor, only stopping when he remembers that that’s probably pretty rude to do to a client’s chair. “S-So. Uhm.” She sounds pretty scared. Suddenly, she moves to get up. “I’ll get you two something to drink.” She whispers and disappears into the kitchen before Mob can protest.
Once she’s gone, Mob turns his gaze to the remaining Miyazaki. Now that there’s less distance and door between them, he can see her form. Her hair is a slightly darker shade of her daughter’s own and there’s a sadness sewn into her features, tiredness exuding from her. Her shirt is stained with blood, holes from a knife dotting her abdomen and chest. “Mrs. Miyazaki. Thank you for letting us inside.” Reigen looks at him, dumbfounded.
“You know, if you want her to hear you from the other room, you should speak up.”
“I’m talking to her mother.”
That hits Reigen like a train, eyes widening. The gloomy house has been making him feel uneasy, but now it feels surreal, like a million feelings are moving through the otherwise stagnant air. It feels lonely and painful in here.
“Why are you keeping her in here?” Mob asks, eyes scanning her pained face. “You said you want to protect her. Why do you keep her trapped in here then?”
The ghost opens her mouth, throat rasping more. She seems troubled. “I...can’t. I can’t let her go. Out into danger.” She pauses but continues when Mob doesn’t say anything. “My...daughter. Is afraid of men. I can’t let her. Get hurt.”
Memories that assaulted him earlier hit him again, still as vague as possible. It makes him jolt this time though, realizing that the scenery around him is the same as in the memories. The door splintering under someone’s weight, a scream of terror, another scream of pain and agony, struggling, so much struggling. A knife. Suddenly his mind flicks of its own accord to a more clear memory, one of gravel digging into his face and children laughing.
“Who...are you talking to out here?” Miyazaki’s tiny voice draws their attention, the thoughts still dancing in his subconscious but muted as he listens to her voice. The tray of drinks in her hands are shaking. It’s not clattering very much because the cups are paper, the kitchen behind her stacked with untouched dishes. “W...Who…”
“Your mother’s ghost is here.” Mob blurts. Reigen flinches and covers his face with a hand, sure that that news could have been broken in a better way.
Miyazaki’s words tremble and she grips the tray in her hands harder, the cups shaking and water sloshing at the rims like unsettled waves. “M...My…” Suddenly, she laughs and forces her movements to still as much as she can, carrying over the trembling drinks and setting them down on the small coffee table. “Y...You’re not very good at jokes, that’s...not ver-very nice to j-joke about.” Her gaze turns from hurt to sharp. “At all.” Sitting down, she leaves her own cup untouched despite smacking her lips to wet her dry mouth. “Tell me why you needed to come inside. You got rid of the ghost, the door is open, it’s gone. What else are you supposed to do?” She looks on edge, as if the thought that there’s two men (well, a man and a young child) in her home, invading her only semi-safe space.
Miyazaki looks accusingly at Reigen, eyes hard and searching, suddenly very wary of him. He puts his hands up slowly in front of him as if in a surrender, showing he’s not trying to hide anything. “Hey, don’t look at me, Mob was the one who asked to come in.”
Her eyes shift to him just as Mob takes a picture of the empty air, the shutter sound of his phone punctuating the moment of silence. He clicks through his phone to his gallery, observing the photo. “W...What? What are…” Words falling silent, her eyes scan the picture that he turns toward her, heart leaping into the depths of her stomach. Mouth falling open, she blinks. Her arm is jutting through the side of the picture, but framed in the center is the unmistakable form of her mother in the clothes that she was wearing the day of the incident.
“Whoa, wait, what--” Reigen peaks over at the phone as well, looking between the empty space and the picture. “Oh. Your--”
“...Mom…” Miyazaki whispers. “...Mom...!” Her voice cracks like glass, her hands trying desperately to hide her teary eyes. “O-Oh my god, y-you’re…” Gritting her teeth, she tries hard to hold in the sobs and whines that well up at the back of her throat.
Mob is quiet for a moment, staring at the spot where he had taken the picture. “She said that she didn’t mean to hurt you. She was doing what she thought was right, keeping you from danger.” Miyazaki sniffs, trying to steady her breath after becoming winded. “Your mom...said if you’re safe, she can move on.”
“A-Am I safe? W-Will I ever be safe in a world like this?” She sobs, clenching her jaw. “How can I...I’ve been...I’ve been here for 3 months. The only contact I’ve had...my aunt...dropping off food...H-How can I be safe in a world I’ve been absent in for months?”
A phantom pain of his time with Mogami, searing pain in his head from being stomped on by kids, the mostly figurative pain of being pulled from a world he thought he knew to the world he forgot. For a moment, Mob almost blacks out, the same feeling as yesterday’s outburst in the office edging at his vision.
He regains his composure and attention as he tunes back in to Reigen consoling her. At some point, he moved his chair to face her better while keeping in mind her wariness of men. She has one of the cups of water in her hands, cupped gingerly, sipping now and then as she listens to his words. “-is a scary place. There’s always going to be something wrong, whether it’s with society as a whole or individuals in it. Being wary or even afraid sometimes is reasonable. The problem is when you get so scared that everything is a threat.” Miyazaki sniffs and rubs at her red eyes, drying them now that more tears aren’t replacing their predecessors. “I don’t know what happened to push you this far, and I won’t ask. Whatever happened, you shouldn’t have to lock yourself away.” She almost looks like she wants to protest, but stops. “...I know your mom was barricading the door, but it’s been three months. You would have called sooner, I assume, if it didn’t make you feel safer. Yeah?”
Miyazaki looks at him sadly, nodding and dropping her gaze to the water cup in her hands. “Yeah. For the first time since what happened...I felt. Safe. My own home didn’t feel safe for so long. It was a struggle to leave, a struggle to come home. I didn’t feel okay anywhere I went. I had to stop going to work because the men that worked with me reminded me of them, even though there was no actual similarities.”
Mob sits down, realizing his knees have been locked this entire time. He sits down with a small thump on the chair, knees aching slightly. The aspiration of her mother steps soundlessly over to him. “Please. Tell her I’m sorry. I never meant for this to go this way.” Her raspy breathing sounds more clear, like she’s at peace. “I just want her to be happy. That’s all I want.”
Nodding, Mob blinks his eyes tightly to refocus, sitting up straight. “You called for help.” The two of them look back at him, slightly surprised that he’s back to speaking after his long daze. “You want to get out. Will you be happy now that you can leave?”
She pauses for a long moment, eyes drifting to the door and the musty windows. Light filters through, beckoning her. Swallowing thickly, she rubs her thumb gently against the cup. “...I think. Yeah. Yeah, I. I want to go outside.” The murky feeling in the air lifts slowly, the apparition at Mob’s right fading slowly. “Thank you, mom. I love you.”
The spirit flits away in a small light that only Mob seems to be able to see. “She loves you too.”
---
Now that they don’t have a client waiting for them, they opt to walk back to the office. As they wave goodbye to Miyazaki and wish her luck, Mob’s eyes linger on the sight of her sitting on the porch with the white cat in her lap. He’s glad to leave her with a lighter heart, but he’s also just glad to leave in general. His feet feel lighter as they walk farther from the house, feeling much like he did when he, Reigen, and Ekubo left the Asagiri house. Things aren’t so bad, his memories are just memories. He can push them away for the time being.
“Shishou.” Reigen glances to him, tearing his eyes from the pinking sky.” Ritsu mentioned something today.” Hearing the hum for him to go on, Mob keeps his eyes trained ahead of him. “He said I shouldn’t have let myself get beat up by those boys yesterday. He said I should have fought back, even though they weren’t espers.” Looking up to his mentor, his eyes are unreadable. “Do you think someone might take advantage of me? My unwillingness to fight? If my abilities are like a knife, should I use them to stop someone who has a real knife?”
Caught off guard, Reigen’s steps slow subconsciously, the parts of his brain that were regulating his movements helping to pitch in on figuring out the right answer to this. He knows Mob takes his lectures to heart, but he didn’t realize he went by the book so strictly. That strictly. “Well. I think espers like yourself-- like us--” He adds quickly. “Our abilities make us almost unstoppable to the average person. Almost unstoppable to other espers, sometimes! Especially with you. I think because of this, y- we have a higher responsibility. If someone comes at you with a knife, you would protect yourself, right?” Mob doesn’t nod, and Reigen feels worried. “Well, if you weren’t an esper, you would?” Mob nods. Reigen sighs. “If you weren’t an esper and someone tried to hurt you, I’m sure you wouldn’t go overboard. Your abilities aren’t the same as a knife, it’s just a metaphor. They’re a knife when against an unarmed person. They’re a gun to someone with a knife. They’re a tank to someone with a gun.”
Mob looks thoughtful. The tension in his face changes. “I see. That makes sense. So I don’t?”
Reigen’s step falters. He stops and pinches the bridge of his nose, smiling weakly at Mob in defeat. “Oh my god, Mob...you’ll be the death of me.”
“I hope not.” He whispers worriedly.
“Not literally.” He laughs, putting a gentle hand on his troubled student’s shoulder. “Mob, you know stranger danger. If someone tries to hurt you, don’t just let them. Just don’t go overboard. You know?” When Mob doesn’t reply, Reigen sighs softly through his nose. “...You’re afraid of going overboard, aren’t you?” Mod nods weakly and Reigen feels distressed that he’s not more equipped to comforting children.
Suddenly, he perks up, trying to get Mob’s attention off of what he’s sure he’s thinking about (if the mention of Ritsu is anything to go off of). “Hey, Mob! What do you say we go out for dinner? It’s a bit early still but an early dinner or even just a treat before heading home sounds good, yeah? I’ll buy?”
Mob smiles a little, following behind Reigen as he lists of the possibilities. His Shishou is great.