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It was a good thing Serizawa knew Reigen would never really dock his pay, or else he never would’ve stopped in his hurried walk to work to investigate the tiny sounds coming from a lonely alley. He skidded to a halt in front of an alley, stepping past the shadows cast down by the bordering apartment complexes. The alley was fairly empty, aside from a dumpster and some abandoned, withering cardboard boxes. Serizawa watched leftover rainwater drip down from a rusty fire escape for a few moments, hands in his coat pockets. No more tiny noises came from the alley, so Serizawa prepared to spin back around and head to work. 

However, just as his back was turned to the alley, another small noise came from behind him. It sounded like… a cat?

Serizawa stepped toward the noise, his neck craned to hear better. He glanced left, right, up, and down, but didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. Another small meow came from his left. “Here, kitty kitty,” Serizawa whispered, kneeling down to peer underneath the dumpster.He placed his palms flat on the asphalt. No cat. Another meow, but from directly in front of him. “Oh, no.”

Serizawa stood up as quickly as he could, scrambling to push the dumpster away from the wall. Damn, that’s heavy . He did a quick check around the alley, and then shoved the dumpster to the side with his powers. Thankfully, there was no cat crushed behind the dumpster, either, which meant… 

Another small, quiet meow confirmed his suspicions.  The cat was stuck in the dumpster. 

“We can’t have that,” Serizawa said to himself, and maybe the cat, a little. He stuck his gloved hands underneath the lid of the dumpster and threw it open. “Please don’t attack me.” 

Thankfully, the cat didn’t attack him. It lay there, atop a trash bag, among many other trash bags. In fact, Serizawa could hardly see the cat. Its fur was only a shade or two darker than the black plastic of the trash bags. The cat mewled again.

“Hi,” Serizawa said, as his aura reached down to safely wrap around the cat. As he lifted it, several things became clear. 

One: The cat only had three legs. 

Two: The cat only had one striking yellow eyeball. 

Three: The cat was shaking. 

Four: If he didn’t help this cat, right then, he would’ve probably disintegrated from shame. 

Thankfully, the missing eye and leg appeared to be old wounds that didn’t require immediate medical attention. They could be infected, sure, but Serizawa counted his blessings. No blood. Gently, Serizawa lowered the cat into his arms and patted its head. It was much lighter than he expected. It mewled and shivered, but made no move to escape or retaliate. That probably wasn’t a good sign. Serizawa watched his breath cloud the air. The poor thing was probably cold.

It looked afraid and lonely.

Serizawa unzipped his jacket and tucked the cat against his chest. He folded his coat back over himself and, carefully cradling the cat, continued his march to Spirits and Such. It shook the whole time- from nerves or the cold? He could give the cat a bath in the bathroom sink. 

-

“Morning, Serizawa,” Reigen said when his employee finally came in for the day. Reigen caught the pencil he’d been juggling back and forth and glanced at the time on his computer screen. Serizawa was fifteen minutes late. There weren’t any upcoming appointments, so Reigen wasn’t too annoyed. He was just bewildered that Serizawa hadn’t been on time in the first place. “Sleep in?”

Serizawa didn’t respond for a few moments, seemingly having a passionate struggle with the door. Reigen watched as Serizawa attempted to use his foot to kick the door shut, as his arms were wrapped tightly around his torso. The kicking didn’t work- tricky door- and eventually, the door slammed shut with no physical pressure from Serizawa at all. “Uh, yeah.” Serizawa finally replied, scooching over to his desk. Literally. His feet didn’t move from the ground, just slid along the tile. He still clutched his torso- was he in pain? A stomachache, maybe?- and had yet to take his coat off. 

“Are you feeling alright?” Reigen asked, eyebrows raised.

Serizawa’s entire body jolted and his eyes popped open. “Yeah, I just, um, have to…” The words fell out of Serizawa’s mouth disjointedly. “Use the bathroom.”

Reigen squinted at Serizawa. For a tense moment, they just stared at each other. Then, Reigen leaned back in his chair and got back to tossing his pencil around. “Well, you don’t need my permission.” 

Reigen blinked and Serizawa was gone. Huh. “Weird guy,” Reigen reminded himself, and leaned over his keyboard. 

-

“You’re gonna get me fired.” Serizawa told the cat, which was much skinnier than it had originally looked, now that it had been drenched in warm, soapy water and the illusion caused by its fluffy fur was gone. Yes, he’d washed the cat with hand soap. He had no idea if that would actually work, but it’s not like he had many other options. Serizawa paid special attention to the matted fur around the cat’s missing leg, making sure he wasn’t causing it any pain. Really, he paid special attention to the entire cat, because having a living thing in his hands, dependent on him for comfort and safety, made Serizawa’s hands feel a little numb. His voice went up a few octaves when he spoke to the cat. He scritched at the bottom of its chin, which it seemed to like. “I’m gonna get fired for bringing a dangerous alley cat into my workplace and washing it with the last of our hand soap, huh? I’m gonna have to move back in with my mom. I’ll take you with me. We-”

“Who the hell are you talking to, Serizawa?” Came Reigen’s voice from behind the bathroom door. Oops. Serizawa must’ve been talking a little too loud. 

“Oh, I was just..” Serizawa squinted at his frazzled expression in the mirror. “On the phone!”

Silence came from the other side of the door. “Well, hurry up. We’ve got a client in ten minutes.” 

Oh, no. 

Where was Serizawa supposed to put the cat while he dealt with a client? Maybe there wasn’t really a spirit or curse, and Reigen could deal with it on his own. But if there was really a spirit, and they had to go off-site? Serizawa had no idea what to do with the round creature in his hands. He scratched the top of the cat’s head as he thought. He very well couldn’t put the cat in the closet, or under his desk. A dark, confined space like that, right after Serizawa had rescued it from a dumpster? No way. He couldn’t subject the cat to something so claustrophobic. 

Speaking of which, he should really give it a name.

“Serizawa!” Reigen lamented through the door, and Serizawa quickly threw a hand towel over the cat’s sopping wet fur. He half-heartedly scrubbed its body for a few seconds, and then set the cat down on the ground. It sat down and blinked up at Serizawa with its wide, sparkling eye. 

“Coming!” Serizawa shouted. He pointed to the cat, and then the ground. “Stay.”

-

As soon as Serizawa got back to the office, he leaned over Reigen’s desk, yanked open the far right drawer, and fished around through the myriad of snacks stuffed under empty manilla folders. Reigen was downstairs, settling some dispute with the owner of the property- there’s a no animals policy, Serizawa remembered, and cringed internally- so Serizawa had time to hunt for something for the cat to eat. There wasn’t anything in Reigen’s desk drawer, only crackers and nicotine gum and some chips. Damn. 

Next, Serizawa searched through his own backpack. He could hear Reigen stomping up the stairs. Uh oh. His boss was clearly in a bad mood. Serizawa slid into his desk chair and continued dumping out the contents of his backpack. Various worksheets and other assignments pooled across Serizawa’s desk. He didn’t have any food. He very well couldn’t feed the cat paper .

Serizawa groaned, and, thankfully, the sound went unnoticed by a fuming Reigen. He was ranting under his breath about security departments and scam artists, pacing back and forth. It was usually better to let Reigen work his way out of his own frustration, and then offer support later. 

All was well until Reigen pushed the bathroom door open and screamed. 

-

A cat. A three-legged, one-eyed cat curled up, sleeping on the floor of the bathroom. The bathroom of Reigen’s office. In the building that had a no-pets policy. There was a cat on the floor, covered in soap suds. 

Slowly, Reigen stepped away from the bathroom and pulled the door shut. With his hands hanging loosely at his sides, Reigen stared emotionlessly at the door. “Serizawa.” 

In the corner of Reigen’s eye, Serizawa gradually stiffened. “...Yes?”

“Serizawa.” Reigen said again, eye beginning to twitch. His entire body turned with his gaze. “Why is there a cat in the bathroom?”

The gears turning in Serizawa’s head were nearly audible. “I… put it there.”

“You put the cat there?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you put the cat there?” 

“Because we had to go on an exorcism job.” 

“Why was the cat here in the first place, Serizawa?”

“I found it.”

“You found it.”

The room fell still as Reigen processed the wild animal sleeping in his bathroom. It was probably rabid. And blood hungry. 

“I couldn’t just leave it in the dumpster,” Serizawa insisted finally. He began shoving papers back into his backpack, as neatly as it seemed he could under the heavy gaze from Reigen. 

Reigen pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded. “Yeah, I guess not.” He surrendered, and threw his hands up. “Can you please remove the cat from the premises?” 

Serizawa inhaled sharply. “No.”

“Why not?” Reigen asked impatiently, reaching out to push the bathroom door open. Serizawa beat him to it.

“Reigen.” Serizawa said flatly, and reached down to pick up the cat. It shifted in its sleep and slowly blinked its eye open, scanning the room tiredly. Its ear twitched. A slight tremble laced Serizawa’s words as he held the cat out towards Reigen. “ Look at it.”

Okay, well, the sight of a puppy-eyed Serizawa holding a sleeping cat, which was dwarfed by his giant hands, was too much for Reigen to handle. He flicked his gaze down at the ground nonchalantly before he could do something stupid and grumbled, “Is it healthy?”

Serizawa hesitated. “I don’t know. I don’t know how long it was on its own. It’s probably starving.” Reigen opened his mouth to add something when Serizawa took a breath, but, apparently, Serizawa wasn’t done. “I’ll bet it’s lonely, too. It didn’t fight me at all when I picked it up.” 

“Hungry, huh?” Reigen echoed, already mentally kicking himself for what he was about to do. He stuck his hand in his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and dropped 100 yen into Serizawa’s hand. “That’s enough for a packet of cat food, right?”

Serizawa’s eyebrows shot up, and Reigen hated that, apparently, getting money from Reigen was surprising to Serizawa. “Are you sure? I can pay for it myse-”

“With the money I paid you.” Reigen said, and put his hand on his hip. The other pointed up at Serizawa. “Just go buy the thing some food before I change my mind about being nice.” 

-

Serizawa found a packet of cat food for 68 yen, and Reigen enthusiastically accepted the leftover change. 

-

The cat fell asleep in Serizawa’s arms on the walk to the train station. Reigen was the first to notice, reaching over to poke the top of the cat’s teeny head. “How old is this thing? It’s so small.” 

Serizawa shifted his arms to support the cat’s head better and shrugged. “I dunno. I told you, I just found it.” He glanced over at Reigen. “I think it might just be a small cat. And it doesn’t eat much.”

Reigen hummed. “What do you think happened to it?” 

“Oh, its leg? And eye? Who knows. Hopefully nothing too painful.” Serizawa sighed. “Maybe it was in an accident and the owners just got rid of it.” Cast it away. Labelled it unfit for their household and care. Serizawa held the cat a little tighter to his chest. 

“Ah, I hate people like that.” Reigen scowled. “I knew this couple when I was a kid that threw their dog out because it was too hyper or something. Come on. It’s a dog .” His arms flailed around aggressively as he spoke. 

The lights of the train station illuminated the cat’s sleeping face, grey streaks of light mottling its raven fur. It breathed deeply, with sleepy little inhales and content, long exhales. Serizawa could never imagine throwing something so helpless away. He opened his mouth to agree with Reigen, but, as usually happened if Serizawa let a silence hang for too long, Reigen was already talking. 

“You should probably take that to a vet or something. To make sure it’s not diseased or rabid or pregnant or something.” Reigen said, glaring at the cat like it had rabies. No, wait . Upon closer inspection, Serizawa realized Reigen was glaring at the cat like it had rabies just to spite Reigen.

“Yeah, I’ll do that tomorrow.” Serizawa said, waving goodbye to Reigen as best he could with a cat in his arms. “Thanks for the help today.”

-

The trip to the vet went a lot easier than Serizawa expected. Aside from the missing leg and eye, which were both uninfected, and malnutrition, the cat didn’t have anything wrong with it. The veterinarian, a woman Serizawa’s age, did a basic run-down for common diseases in stray cats and checked for a microchip. She found neither, and prescribed a formula for Serizawa to feed the cat via syringe, and then instructed to bring the cat back in once it had reached a healthier weight so they could make a meal plan. She reminded Serizawa to never feed the cat too much, as it could get sick. In addition, three-legged cats commonly had problems with weight gain, as they had less body mess for weight to spread across. She also told Serizawa that she’d need a stool sample, to check for worms, and then piled all of the supplies into a bag. The entire time, a rather frazzled Serizawa frantically took notes on his phone so he wouldn’t forget anything important. He nodded along to everything the vet said, only shaking his head for two things: no, he hadn’t named it yet, and no, he didn’t want to set up an appointment to get the cat neutered yet. He did set up an appointment for vaccinations- Reigen’s fears of a rabid cat had stuck with Serizawa, apparently- only cringing a little at the prices. 

Serizawa walked out of the clinic a bit dazed. He’d never expected to be a cat owner in the first place, and now he had a bag full of kitty medicine and a list in his phone of name ideas. 

When Serizawa stepped into his apartment, he realized he still had the entire Saturday ahead of him. He flicked on the lights, let his cat out of its crate, dumped the contents of the bag onto his coffee table, and sat down on the couch to go over all of them. A needleless syringe, a bottle of formula, some light food packets, a blue collar with a noisy bell, and cat litter. It all looked so tiny in Serizawa’s hands. 

It was then, holding a collar that could’ve fit around his wrist, that Serizawa’s chest finally hollowed out and static struck through the space beneath his skin. 

He was out of his depth. He couldn’t take care of a cat, let alone a starving cat with three legs, one eye, and whatever the cat version of anxiety was. He hadn’t even been able to come up with a name for the damn thing. Serizawa’s head whipped around and he stared at the- his cat, which was curled up on the ground, sleeping. It sure slept a lot. Was that normal? Or was it very, truly sick, and the veterinarian just hadn’t noticed? Serizawa should’ve researched before picking a random cat off the street. He should’ve handed the cat off to someone else that could actually take care of things. Serizawa had killed a houseplant just last week. He didn’t do well on his last math test. And this cat was supposed to put all of its trust in him? 

-

“Woah, Serizawa,” Reigen blurted when Serizawa came into work on Monday. “Trying a new hairstyle?”

That was probably a rude thing to say, Reigen noted in hindsight, but Serizawa looked exhausted. More exhausted than he’d looked in a while. The dark circles under his eyes were exceptionally pronounced, his hair was pressed down flat on one end and sticking up wildly on the other, and there was a sinking look in his glassy eyes. His tie was crooked, his collar was creased, and he seemed to have forgotten his backpack entirely. After too many seconds, Serizawa lowered himself into his seat and yawned. “I couldn’t sleep last night.”

“I thought you said you’d been falling asleep easier lately.” Reigen prompted, scratching a few meaningless lines onto a sticky note with his pen. 

“I was,” Serizawa said with another yawn. Reigen refused to watch. He would not look. “But I was up all night thinking about my cat.”

“Oh, so you kept it?” Reigen asked, surprised. 

Serizawa nodded sleepily. As he took his suit jacket off, he said, “I’d just feel bad if I gave it away. Especially if it’d been thrown out before. I didn’t want to be… I didn’t want to abandon it.” 

Reigen shrugged. “I’m more of a dog person,” he said with a toothy smile, as if that was a related response to what Serizawa had just said. 

“I guess I…” Serizawa yawned, again , and Reigen didn’t have the self control to avoid looking a second time. “-Like both. But I’ve got a cat, now.”

“Have you named it?” Reigen asked, although he wasn’t very interested in the cat, at all. 

“Not yet,” Serizawa admitted, and rubbed the back of his neck. “I just haven’t been able to pick a name that fits. I don’t want him to have a stupid name.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” Reigen said, with another smile. “Mob and Teruki are stopping by today; they should be able to help. I think Tome might come by in the afternoon, too. You know how she tags along with Mob.”

-

The kids’ response to Serizawa owning a cat was explosive. Tome’s reaction was instant and loud . Hanazawa’s was similar, but more physical (as in, he grabbed Serizawa’s shoulder and shook him aggressively while shouting incoherently). Shigeo, of course, had the only calm reaction, but the excitement was clear in the way his mouth fell open and his eyes sparkled. 

“Since when ?” Tome shouted, tone accusatory. She leaned over Serizawa’s desk and raised an eyebrow. In the corner of his eye, Serizawa spotted Reigen wince at Tome’s shrill voice. 

“A few-” Serizawa began, only to be interrupted by Hanazawa.  

“What kind of cat? How old is it?”

“Um, I’m not actually s-”

Tome interjected with another question. “Is it a girl or a boy?”

“A b-”

“Did you name it yet?” Shigeo interrupted, uncharacteristically direct. 

“No.” Serizawa answered, as quickly as he could so that he wouldn’t be cut off again. 

Hanazawa gasped like he’d been wounded, and Tome collapsed on top of Serizawa’s desk with her arms hanging limply off the edge. “Serizawaaaa,” She groaned, and lifted her head. It fell back down and clunk ed on the desk’s surface. “You haven’t named it yet?”

“I haven’t been able to think of anything,” Serizawa said, eyeing Shigeo significantly. “I was hoping you guys could help m-”

“Of course!” Hanazawa accepted pridefully. “Out of the kindness of my own heart, I will help you name your poor nameless cat.”

Tome nodded enthusiastically. “Honestly, Serizawa, I have no idea why you didn’t ask us earlier. You must’ve been in agony.” 

“Oh, he was,” Reigen added from behind his computer. He didn’t look away from his screen, which obscured his face, but Serizawa was sure he had a malicious smile on his face. “We’re so glad you’re here to help, Tome.”

Reigen and Tome shared a spiteful look. 

“Stay out of this,” Tome demanded, pointing critically at Reigen. 

Reigen held his hands up in surrender and went back to working. 

“Unless you have any suggestions,” Shigeo continued, ignoring the vexed stare he got from Tome. 

“Nah, nothing.” Reigen said. He finally looked up from his laptop and shrugged. “I don’t like cats very much, anyways.”

Hanazawa unhooked his arm from Shigeo’s and slammed his fist down on Serizawa’s desk. “Come on, Mr. Reigen,” he complained. “We need your help.”

Tome scoffed and pulled a notebook, decorated with stickers, out of her backpack. She pressed a purple pen to the page and looked expectantly at everyone else in the room. “Well?”

“Hmm.” Hanazawa tapped his chin, and then spun around to look at Reigen again. “Please.”

“I can’t think of anything.” Reigen said tersely. 

“Please.”

“I said I-”

Serizawa titled his head in Reigen’s direction and gave him a knowing smile. “Everybody has to contribute, Reigen, come on.”

A foreign look crossed Reigen’s face. It pulled at the edges of his eyes and spread out across his dark irises. “Uh,” he said eloquently, and then looked over to the side and mumbled something. 

“Hmm?” Tome hummed harshly, cupping a hand around her ear. 

Reigen threw up his arms. “Saitama.” 

Tome burst into mean laughter, accidentally scribbling a few streaking purple lines on the notebook page. Shigeo looked at her strangely, as if he was trying to figure out what was so funny. He looked at Hanazawa for help, but Hanazawa was staring hard at the page. 

“You know,” Hanazawa finally spoke, slowly. “I think, in order to properly name this cat, I’d have to get to know it.”

“Oh, no.” Reigen said above Tome’s cackling. His feelings looked mildly hurt. “No, no, no. No cat in the office. I forbid it.”

The rise of Shigeo’s shoulders upon Hanazawa’s proposition hadn’t been very noticeable, but the way his entire body slumped over in disappointment was missed by no one. A flash of something regretful struck Reigen’s stony expression, and he sighed. “One time.” Reigen uttered. “There can be a cat in the office one time.”

Hanazawa cried out with joy, and a wide smile split Shigeo’s face in half. Tome leaned back and punched the air several times. 

Then, two small hands attempted to push Serizawa out of his chair. He lifted his arm and stared at Tome, who must’ve teleported or something. “Go, go, go! Go!” She commanded, batting Serizawa’s bicep. In a voice fitting that of an energized general, she shouted, “Fetch us the kitten!” 

Despite their buzzing, excited energy, the kids were very delicate with the cat. Well, after Serizawa hurriedly informed Hanazawa that the cat was still pretty weak, because he’d found it in a dumpster, abandoned. Upon hearing that, Hanazawa’s eyes flashed with determination and he loosened his death grip on the cat’s front paw. “It was on its own?”

Serizawa nodded sadly. “Yeah. So he’s very malnourished. But I’ve been feeding him formula with a syringe.” He scratched behind the cat’s ear. 

“You have to name him something powerful.” Hanazawa said, jaw set. He stared deeply into the cat’s eye, expression unwavering. Hanazawa obviously found this very important, and that gravity pulled everyone else into its orbit. Tome, Shigeo, and Serizawa all leaned in. “Like Saitama.”

Tome launched herself backwards and broke into another fit of howling laughter.

“Not even that funny,” Reigen grumbled from his desk. Serizawa gave him a look that said it’s a little funny and Reigen glared in a way that said I am going to jump over this table and strangle you to death in front of all of these children . 

“Or Teru.” Shigeo said, and Serizawa nearly aww ed before he caught a hint of- was that humor?- on Shigeo’s face. Since when did he tell jokes? 

Hanazawa didn’t catch on, and gasped. He scooped the cat up and held it up toward the ceiling triumphantly. “Teru! The perfect name! Yes! Hi, Teru!” The cat blinked and twitched its ears. 

“I can’t name the cat Teru,” Serizawa said gently, and reached up to take the cat out of Teru’s hands. “I already know a Teru. It’d just get confusing.” 

Hanazawa deflated, only brightening a little when Shigeo patted his back. “Okay, okay, fine. Not Teru.” Hanazawa stroked his chin, something he must’ve picked up from Reigen. “Put Takeo down. Tome, write Takeo down.” 

Tome complied, hand shaking with laughter as she scribbled Takeo down on the page. “Okay. Now what? I think you should name it something cool.”

“Are you saying Takeo isn’t cool?” Hanazawa asked, entirely offended. 

“I’m saying there are cooler things. Like Ryu.” Tome said, writing Ryu considerably larger than the Takeo above it.

“I had a list of names on my phone,” Serizawa supplied helpfully, and handed his phone over to Shigeo so he could look. The cat had curled up on Serizawa’s desk and was nodding off. Hanazawa looked like he was about to cry, and kneeled down to watch the cat sleep. 

Shigeo hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t know. I like all of these. Akira especially.” 

“I liked that one, too, but it didn’t feel right.” Serizawa said, crumbling under Tome’s scrutinizing look.

“Are you really that worried about it?” Reigen piped up, still red at the ears from being made fun of. “It’s just a cat. It’s not like it cares what its name is.” 

Shigeo’s eyes narrowed into judgemental squints, aimed directly at Reigen. “You’re kidding, right?” He asked.

Reigen swallowed. “Sure, yeah, totally kidding. Spend more time picking the perfect name.”

-

The perfect name didn’t become evident through the hour, even as Tome filled pages and pages with name ideas. They were all scrapped, either because Serizawa didn’t feel they fit or Shigeo shook his head disapprovingly. Nothing seemed to fit the sleeping cat that had migrated onto Serizawa’s chest. He had to lean back so it could snooze comfortably without slipping down onto his lap. Whenever Serizawa let his gaze slide away from the rise and fall of his cat’s tiny body, he accidentally locked eyes with Reigen. Serizawa didn’t want to come off like he was staring, so he swallowed the electricity in his throat and concentrated on Hanazawa and Tome’s animated debate on whether they could name the cat after a scientist that discovered a UFO back in the 1980s. He was pretty sure he’d watched a documentary on that back in the day. 

“We’re closing in fifteen minutes,” Reigen sang from the windowsill, where he poked his index finger into the soil of a potted plant. “I don’t want a hoard of children in my office again tomorrow, so you better pick a name fast.” 

Serizawa knew that was a lie. He saw the fond way Reigen watched the kids scramble to get their ideas in, and the way he hid laughs at Tome’s jokes. Serizawa noticed a lot of things about Reigen that he wasn’t sure he was supposed to notice. Like the way his posture was much straighter when nobody else was around, liberated of the carefree, confident businessman persona he was so good at slipping into. Or the way he always drank tea before it was cool enough, as if he had something to prove. Or the way he typed louder when he was in desperate need of attention. Working for Reigen was sort of like owning a cat, Serizawa supposed. Sleepy, a bit clingy, temperamental, prideful, and sometimes dangerously independent. 

“Argh!” Tome lamented, and beat the table with her fist. The cat startled out of its sleep, glanced around the room, and shivered. Serizawa patted its head delicately, unsure of how to calm it down. Tome gasped. “I am so sorry.”

“Can’t we just call it ‘the cat’?” Reigen groaned. He’d inevitably joined the conversation after Tome humorously suggested the name ‘Arataka’ and implied it was a funny name. 

“Are you out of your mind?” Hanazawa wailed, and the usual, respectful manner he regarded Reigen with was utterly absent. 

The cat continued to shiver as tensions rose, and cradling it against Serizawa’s chest wasn’t working, like it normally did. A small, quivering meow left from behind its tiny fangs and the room fell silent. Hanazawa looked, once again, like he was on the verge of tears. 

“Is something wrong with him?” Shigeo asked, reaching out to hover his hand over the cat’s nose. His expression was flat and resigned. Without the concern lacing his tone, it would’ve been impossible to tell if Shigeo cared at all. “Is he in pain?”

Serizawa’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No, I think he’s just anxious.” A silent laugh left his nose. “I know the feeling.”

Shigeo nodded in understanding and spun around without another word. He marched over to the minifridge, kneeled down, and yanked it open. After digging around for a few moments under the watchful eye of his friends and his master, he emerged with a bottle of milk in hand. “Does anybody have a bowl or something?” 

Tome, thrilled to have something to do, retrieved a glass tupperware from her backpack. 

Shigeo filled the tupperware with milk and set it down on the ground. “You can put him down, Serizawa. I used to know a stray cat that loved milk.” 

“I’m not sure, I’ve been giving him formula-” Serizawa began, shifting his cat closer. It meowed in protest of being crushed. Guilt panged in Serizawa’s stomach, thick and heavy. 

“It should be fine,” Reigen interjected from where he closed the blinds. He very rarely interrupted Serizawa, so it was clear Reigen just wanted everyone out of his office as soon as possible. It had been a long day. “It’s not solid food, right?” 

“I guess.” Serizawa said, and reluctantly set the cat down on the floor. He stumbled a bit on his paws, still bristling with tension and anxiety. It was a familiar sight that made Serizawa’s chest ache. 

Shigeo made small clicking sounds with his mouth, reaching out deliberately. At first, the cat trembled and began to slink away, so Shigeo drew his hand back. He made more clicking noises, and nudged at the container of milk. Serizawa felt a tail swish across his ankle as the cat’s curiosity was drawn in by the milk. Shigeo inched backwards, still squatted down to the floor. He nudged at the container again and waited for the cat’s reaction. 

It was a slow, careful process, one that went on for minutes past official closing time and involved a lot of push-pull. Shigeo would coax the cat closer, and the cat would retreat. Shigeo would wait. He would try coaxing again. The boy’s patience was endless and contagious. Even Reigen, who had previously been tapping his foot impatiently, was nearly still (but, of course, his hands darted to and from his tie, and his nose twisted up and down), content to watch Shigeo and the cat. Hanazawa and Tome watched the back-and-forth like enthusiastic tennis fans, heads whipping back and forth in unison. Silent cheers and cries lived like ghosts on their open mouths. 

Finally, in one of the most triumphant moments Serizawa had ever witnessed, the cat dipped his head down to lap up the milk. Hanazawa pumped his fist and gave Shigeo a silent high five. Tome looked ready to burst, but remained silent. Reigen slumped over and stuck his hand into the hair atop Shigeo’s head affectionately. 

“You should name it Miruku.” Shigeo said finally, as the cat planted himself in front of the milk and curled his tail around his legs. 

Before Tome’s certain critique could exit her mouth, something that would be along the lines of why would you ever name a cat Milk, Serizawa nodded. “I like that,” he said with a smile, and watched his cat gulp up the milk, calm and content. “Miruku.” 

“But… it’s a black cat,” Tome argued weakly. 

“That’s why it’s funny,” Shigeo said, like it was obvious. His voice softened and went up a few octaves. “Hi, Miruku. Pretty kitty. Perfect kitty.” 

Shigeo doing a baby voice at an animal was, evidently, the thing that finally snapped Reigen out of his good-naturedness. “Alright, alright,” Reigen announced, startling Miruku. He tried to jump away from the bowl of milk and hide from the new, loud, jarring voice, and ended up jamming his paw directly into the milk. This surprised Miruku further, and he bounded into the middle of the office. It was then that the tranquility of the office truly shattered, as Tome began to scream incoherently (Serizawa wondered if the screaming was less out of genuine fear and more out of a primal urge to make noise after such a long silence) and Hanazawa jumped on top of Serizawa’s desk, for… some reason. 

(Hanazawa would later explain that he didn’t want to get attacked by an angry cat.) 

“It’s going to destroy everything!” Reigen cried, braced against his own desk. “Mob!”

Shigeo sighed and pointed two fingers in Miruku’s direction. His shimmering aura enveloped the small cat gently, and Shigeo lifted the cat into the air. “Don’t worry,” he said, probably to Serizawa, “they like this.” 

The chaos was smothered down into a simmer, and Reigen pinched the bridge of his nose. “I need… a nap.” That was not what Reigen originally intended to say. Serizawa could tell by the way his body went still during the short pause in his words. “You were all supposed to leave twenty minutes ago. Scram.”

Shigeo lowered Miruku onto Serizawa’s desk with a smile and turned to wave at Reigen. “Can I still visit next weekend?”

Reigen rolled his eyes. “Of course you can. You just can’t visit forty minutes past closing time. Especially when you have those two scoundrels with you.” He said with a wave. Again, Reigen was telling a half-truth. Shigeo beamed and pulled Hanazawa out the door. As the door shut, Serizawa caught pieces of a classic Tome rant. Something to do with ‘old man’ and the word ‘scoundrel’. 

Reigen looked at his chair longingly, like he wished he could just sleep there. Instead, he groaned, glared at the cat on Serizawa’s desk, and pointed menacingly at his employee. “Never again. If that cat shows up in my office again, I will obliterate it with my powers.” He snapped to prove his point. 

“Understood, boss.” Serizawa said, glad that he caught the small smile on Reigen’s face before he turned away. 

-

Reigen knew two things to be true about himself: he was much too nice, and he was even more unforgivably nice to that bastard Serizawa. 

This became horribly apparent when Miruku the Dreadful Creature kept appearing at Spirits and Such, even though Reigen had made it crystal clear that a cat in the office was a surefire way to get him kicked out of the building. Serizawa, apparently, didn’t care about Reigen’s livelihood, because Miruku made common guest appearances at work, and, one time, even came on an exorcism. 

Reigen didn’t like cats. They were too stuck-up for their own good. He wouldn’t have minded a secret dog living in his office. But it had to be a cat. A cat that stole all of Serizawa’s attention. Reigen spent a lot of his time glaring at Miruku. Especially when Miruku crawled around on Reigen’s desk (once the evil, evil creature gained more strength in his hind legs, he started crawling all over the damn place), or when Miruku lay in Serizawa’s lap and got idle pets and scratches. Reigen did not have the energy to stop himself from being jealous of a cat, no matter how humiliating it was. 

On one particularly rainy day, about a month after Serizawa had first found Miruku, Serizawa pulled Miruku out from under his rain jacket and the cat was wearing rain boots. Fucking rain boots. Three bright blue booties. 

That was where the jealousy met with disdain. Not the same disdain that had to do with Reigen’s general dislike of cats. A disdain that had to do with how Miruku’s interactions with Serizawa drew something terrible out of Reigen.

On one slow afternoon, Serizawa actually kissed the top of Miruku’s head while doing homework, and Reigen wanted so badly to blow his brains out. Instead, he mumbled something about taking a break and dashed into the bathroom. He locked the door behind him, gripped the edges of his face, hunched over, and screamed silently at the floor. 

Reigen stared himself down in the mirror, fixed his hair, and walked back out. 

He hated that cat with all of his being. 

Until. 

A client came in in the middle of a busy, busy day, chattering on and on about how she was so sorry for the walk-in, how strange things had been happening to her, and the usual spiel about tense shoulders. It sounded like a job for glorified masseuse, Reigen Arataka- or so he thought. “Actually, there’s-” Serizawa began, only to be cut off by a low growl coming from Miruku. Serizawa stuttered and stared down at his lap, where Miruku lay. 

“What- is that a cat?” The client- Matsuno- asked. She tilted her head to try and find it. 

“Yes, sorry, that’s- he never does this, um. Stop.” He told Miruku uselessly. Miruku continued to bristle, hopping up on the desk and hissing. Directly at the client. 

Reigen tore his eyes away from Serizawa to smile apologetically at Matsuno. “Anyways, as I was- Serizawa, can you take the cat out of the room until it stops doing that?”

“Yes, sure, yes,” Serizawa said frantically, holding Miruku out at arms’ length. He smiled at Matsuno on his way out. “He seriously never acts like this, I promise.”

“I’ve- I’ve heard that animals can sense ghosts,” Matsuno told Serizawa, staring at the cat. “Is that true?” 

Reigen shared a look with Serizawa. Serizawa, once he was sure Matsuno wouldn’t see, nodded in Reigen’s direction and pointed at the client’s back. So there really was some kind of spirit or curse latched to her. Reigen’s customer service smile came easily. “You’re absolutely right. That’s why we keep the cat around, actually. He’s very good at detecting spirits. Sometimes, he can even differentiate between evil spirits and curses!” He lied easily. “We tend not to tell customers because it can freak them out, you know? But you seem smart.” 

Reigen babbled on and on about animals and their connection to the spirit world- just some bullshit he pulled out of his ass- as Serizawa set his hostile pet down and placed his hand on Matsuno’s shoulder. The exorcism was quick and painless. Matsuno even left a tip (‘for the good kitty’). Cha-ching. 

“You know what, Serizawa?” Reigen said, when Serizawa started packing up to go drop Miruku off and go to class. 

“What’s that?” Serizawa replied kindly, and Reigen’s heart almost melted. Jesus. 

“You can bring Miruku around as much as you want.” Reigen said with a cheesy grin. Serizawa rolled his eyes at Reigen- the audacity- but nodded. 

“That’s what I’ve been doing,” he said, matching Reigen’s smile. Reigen’s face fell flat. Serizawa laughed and walked out the door. 

-

Serizawa knew Reigen would never admit it, but his boss was growing fond of Miruku. At first, Reigen batted the cat away when Miruku was bold enough to step over Reigen’s laptop, but as the days went by, Reigen was more prone to just lean back and make faces at the cat until it eventually retreated. Once, Reigen went to go make himself some tea, and when he came back, Miruku was fast asleep in Reigen’s desk chair. Instead of evicting Miruku from the chair, Reigen spun his laptop around and hopped up onto the tabletop. He perched his laptop on his knee and went back to his work. Serizawa watched with a smile until Reigen looked up and their eyes met. Serizawa quickly averted his gaze and scribbled gibberish down in his notebook.

(They made accidental eye contact a lot. 

In theory, Serizawa didn’t mind it, because after 15 years of isolation, eye contact alone was intoxicating. The mere act of seeing another person and having them see you overwhelmed Serizawa, on occasion. Being seen was overwhelming. 

However, whenever he accidentally locked eyes with Reigen and he got a stomach drop like he was falling from a tall building, Serizawa felt it was best to look away as quickly as possible before he could do or say something way out of line.) 

Another time, Serizawa caught Reigen teasing Miruku with a pink hair tie Hanazawa had left at the office a few days earlier. With his head propped up by his fist, Reigen dragged the hair tie lazily across the surface of his desk. Miruku, who had gained enough weight to finally be put on a meal plan and beamed with an energy that felt very alive, batted his paw at the hair tie. Everytime he got close to snatching it up, Reigen would zip the tie to the opposite end of the desk. In that process, Reigen had knocked his cup holder and several stacks of paper off of his desk. Miruku was still a bit clumsy, and often barrel rolled along the surface destructively. That’s how several books landed on the floor, along with pencils and pens and paper. Reigen’s section of the office was a disaster zone, but nobody cared, because Reigen was laughing and Miruku was bouncing back and forth. 

“Come on, get it,” Reigen goaded, in the voice he reserved for dogs and babies. “Oh! Too slow!”

Serizawa laughed at that, and how he wished he hadn’t, because Reigen’s posture slouched, like he was trying to look a certain way in front of a customer, and he tossed the hair tie across the room. Miruku scrambled after it. “What are you smiling at?” Reigen asked, all hints of joy gone from his face. 

“You,” Serizawa said, and neither of them acknowledged it, but it lingered between them for a long, long time. 

-

Serizawa spent 2,000 yen on a bed for Miruku, and he didn’t even use it. Miruku napped in the luxurious, fluffy bed for a total of five minutes before returning to his usual spot in the center of the couch. At night, Miruku usually curled up at the foot of Serizawa’s bed, or remained on the couch. 

Miruku slept at the edge of the bed when Serizawa had his first night terror in months. 

Air that was more tar than oxygen spilled down the back of his throat and seared the bottom of his lungs. He wanted to cough, to choke it out of him, but it seeped through his flesh and dripped down into his stomach. If he tried hard enough, Serizawa could see black smoke pooling in his veins, killing his blood and taking its place. And it hurt. Serizawa couldn’t feel the pain, but he knew it was there, and he would’ve fallen to his knees and begged to feel something if he wasn’t being followed.

He was walking down a rainy street, arms wrapped around his torso that continued to be eaten from the inside out. His hair was much longer than it should’ve been, and the rain pulled its strands over Serizawa’s glazed-over, inky eyes as he stumbled away. As he ran. As he tried to get away. As he tried and failed to escape, all while all of the oil in the ocean dredged through his arms. 

The rain was up to his ankles. Bubbles burst against the cuffs of Serizawa’s jeans as the pooling water boiled. That made sense. The living darkness inside of Serizawa was so bitterly cold, of course anything around it was scalding in comparison. 

Serizawa shivered and marched on. He couldn’t get caught. The walls were closing in. His lungs were nearly full. 

Serizawa fell to his knees. 

He woke up and drew his knees to his chest, eyes transfixed on the darkness in front of him. He should’ve left the light on before he went to sleep. He couldn’t take the oppressive darkness, the kind that had consumed him from heart to bone. It surrounded him, and he was cold, so cold. Almost as cold as he was in the dream, but in a way that was much more real. Unlike in the dream, Serizawa could breathe, but he couldn’t get enough air. 

Objects around the room, stitched with purple and glowing, clattered against each other, the walls, and the ceiling. Serizawa had been stupid to think he wouldn’t have to nail everything down. Something shattered. Serizawa wasn’t in the right state of mind to guess at what it could’ve been.  

It would pass. It had to pass. Everything passed eventually. Serizawa tried to regain feeling in his hands while simultaneously suppressing the nausea rising in his throat. Once he got that covered, Serizawa would be able to get up and open the blinds and look outside and remind himself that, in the morning, he’d be out in the world. The world with open roads and endless air. But that was only after he remembered how to breathe and be grateful instead of clawing at his throat for more.

The first thing Serizawa felt that wasn’t icy static was fur in the palm of his hand. He whipped his head down to see a glowing, yellow eye. Miruku. Serizawa knocked his disoriented hand against Miruku’s leg. Miruku meowed again- again? How long had he been meowing for?- and rubbed the top of his head against the back of Serizawa’s hand. Serizawa, chest heaving, cupped Miruku’s head and slowly dragged his palm down the cat’s back. Miruku was tense. Something was wrong. 

Oh. Right. Probably because everything was drifting through the air like caught in an invisible, swirling current. That would freak anybody out. 

“It’s okay, Miruku. This happens sometimes. You’re a good kitty for stopping me.” Serizawa said languidly, because his mouth wasn’t connected to his voice. He scratched behind Miruku’s ears. “How’d you know it was me?” 

Miruku didn’t answer. 

“Fine,” Serizawa huffed, and pushed himself out of bed. He wandered to the window to pull the curtains open. “Be that way.”

-

“I don’t need to look at the instructions,” Reigen insisted for the third time in ten minutes, around the screwdriver handle he held with his teeth. 

“That’s definitely not where that goes, though.” Serizawa said skeptically, attempting to pull the mysterious plank out of Reigen’s hands. Reigen flung his arm to the side and held it out of Serizawa’s reach. 

“What do you know?” Reigen scoffed, squinting at the screws piled at his feet. 

It was a Saturday. A very sunny Saturday. The day was practically made to be seized. But Serizawa was sitting criss-cross on his floor, surrounded by screws and tools and assorted chunks of wood. Instructions for a bookshelf sat in his lap. Whatever Reigen had pieced together, while he sat across from Serizawa, looked nothing like any part of any bookshelf. His boss had his legs spread out in front of him, but the rest of his body was hunched determinedly over his Frankenstein-esque creation. The screwdriver in Reigen’s mouth didn’t appear to serve any purpose. Serizawa stared at him. “Can you please just read the directions?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Is building a bookshelf supposed to be fun?” Serizawa asked, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“Look. You asked me for help building you a bookshelf, and, as your boss,” Reigen removed the screwdriver from his mouth and pointed it at Serizawa. “I swear on my mother’s grave I will build you a bookshelf.”

“Your mother isn’t dead.” 

“Her eventual grave!” Reigen said, and threw his hands up. “I swear on my life! On your life!” 

Miruku padded past, brushing against Reigen’s side. Reigen opened his mouth. Serizawa tossed a screw in his direction. “Do not swear on Miruku’s life.”

As Reigen continued to prove… something by building a bookshelf without instructions, Serizawa played lazily with Miruku. He patted the ground around Miruku, and drew his hand back before Miruku could hand critical hits with his clawed front paw. Serizawa narrated their battle with assorted, meaningless pew s and pow s. Miruku had been living with Serizawa for three months now, and was on a diet of solid food and any shoes that Serizawa left outside of the closet. Many pairs had been lost to Miruku’s unforgiving fangs. Miruku didn’t come to work with Serizawa quite as often, because Serizawa didn’t want his cat to become too dependent on him. He knew what it was like to feel chained to someone else’s life.

Maybe cats didn’t think about that kind of stuff.

Eventually, Reigen slumped over, ducked his head, and held his hand out. 

“I want to hear you say it.” Serizawa said, withholding the instruction booklet. 

“I don’t know how to do it,” Reigen lamented, and Serizawa rewarded him by slapping the instructions into his hand. 

They took a break from putting the bookshelf together to stand on Serizawa’s balcony. Reigen asked if it was okay if he smoked, and Serizawa nodded. 

“I’m down to two a day,” Reigen said, traces of bitten-down pride on his cheeks. He brought the cigarette to his lips. 

“That's great,” Serizawa said with a smile. Reigen nodded, like the praise relieved him. What else had he been expecting?

Miruku slinked between their legs, and then wandered back inside. Serizawa leaned against the railing and sighed. His knees hurt from sitting criss-crossed for so long, and he had to continuously shake them out to banish their throbbing ache. It was a rare quiet moment, but a nice one. Reigen, Serizawa guessed, was more okay with bouts of silence when he was off the clock. It was probably nice to stop putting on a show, for once, since that was Reigen’s entire life. He had to act like he could do things he couldn’t, like he was a person he wasn’t, like he wasn’t scared shitless when he very clearly wanted to run. Serizawa admired that. But he also felt bad for Reigen. A career built off a lie- a helpful lie, Serizawa firmly believed- had to be exhausting. So Reigen could be quiet and smoke on Serizawa’s balcony for as long as he wanted. Serizawa didn’t mind. He had no problem with a calm moment.

Key word: moment.

“Well, we’d better get back to it,” Reigen said, and flicked the butt of his cigarette over the balcony’s edge. Serizawa caught it with his powers and dumped it into the trash when he went back inside. 

-

Clients bursting into Spirits and Such screaming wasn’t uncommon, but it still startled Serizawa when the office door slammed open and a man came barreling in, holding his shoulder. It looked dislocated. Rainwater pooled at his feet, dripping down from his damp hair. Dark circles hung heavy under his eyes, pronounced and ugly against his pale, stricken face. Blood dripped from his mouth and onto the office floor. He panted and coughed wetly. However, not a single spirit or curse clung to the man. Miruku, undisturbed, continued to doze atop between two potted plants on Reigen’s windowsill.

Serizawa and Reigen both leapt to their feet. Reigen, ever the man of action, practically jumped over his desk to rush to the man’s side and hold him up. He started off a slew of questions, pertaining to the man’s injuries and how the hell they happened. The man, dazed, stared down at Reigen in bewilderment. 

Serizawa dialed 119 and lifted his phone to his ear. 

“No! No police!” The man shouted, wrenching out of Reigen’s arms. He clawed at Serizawa’s wrists like a man possessed. Wait. Serizawa double checked. No possession. He pushed the man back gently with his forearm. “They- they can’t help with this. They-”

“I’m not calling the police. I’m calling you an ambulance.” Serizawa said, voice steady. 

“Call the ambulance after you help me.” The man said, reaching towards Serizawa again. 

Reigen gave Serizawa a stiff nod and attempted to guide the man toward the seats. Serizawa, against his better judgement, hung up on the operator. “Is this an issue for a psychic, or are you in some other kind of trouble?”

“It’s a- it’s a ghost.” The man couldn’t have been older than 25, now that Serizawa really looked at him. “Um. My dad’s ghost, I think. He’s- just- you have to come help me.” 

“He did this to you?” Reigen asked patiently, hands folded in his lap. 

The man was frantic. “We really have to go, okay, we- my sister is still- she’s stuck in there, I got out as fast as I could, but-”

Serizawa’s head jerked up. “Someone’s still in danger?”

His question was answered with a jerky nod. “She hid in the bathroom, but I don’t know if he’s found her or not. I came here for- for- I can show you-”

Reigen was already pulling on his rain jacket. “Come on, lead the way. Serizawa, if he starts limping, I want you to carry him.” He instructed, and dashed out the door. 

Serizawa forgot to close the door on his way out. 

-

The young man, Ito, explained the situation as best he could between panicked hiccups as they took the train to Ito’s neighborhood. Serizawa let Reigen guide the conversation. 

Apparently, Ito’s mother had passed a few months back. Before Reigen could finish offering condolences, Ito explained that his mother had left his father out of her will completely. His father died a few days ago, mysteriously, and had been haunting the family house since. It was a classic case of a vengeful spirit incapable of passing on, but the details still made Serizawa’s chest sink. 

“That sounds really awful,” Serizawa told Ito, unsure if it was the right thing to say. 

Ito nodded, cradling his injured shoulder. “I just hope my sister is okay. She hadn’t moved out yet, since she’s only seventeen. I don’t know if he’s hurting us on purpose. He’s just throwing stuff around. I would’ve let her run to go get your guys, but she was stuck in the bathroom and i had a clear shot to the door, and-” 

Reigen’s head shot up. “Seventeen?” His leg bounced as their stop approached. 

Ito’s right leg gave out when they all stepped off the train, and Reigen slid his arm around Ito’s waist to steady him. “It’s just up ahead,” Ito panted. 

It was a rather large house, and looked quite old. Older than most houses. Serizawa had only seen houses like this in movies. The rain pounded the pavement below Serizawa’s feet. Through the onslaught, Serizawa could detect dense energy circling around and inside the house.

“Let’s go,” Serizawa said, and headed forwards.

Serizawa didn’t bother with the normal routine, in which Reigen pretended to have any idea what was going on as he conducted an ‘investigation’ (while Serizawa leaned close to him and told him what was happening). This time, he ducked out of the rain and rushed straight into the house. The father’s spirit was incredibly powerful. That was clear from the way orange energy warbled along the peeling wallpaper. His spirit didn’t just occupy the house, it was a part of the house. Serizawa was glad he didn’t bring his cat. 

Reigen and Ito followed behind Serizawa as they ducked through halls. Serizawa didn’t have much trouble tracking down the source of the spirit. The trouble was getting to it. The stairs were blocked off by a knocked-over bookshelf, floors in front of doorways shook, and ceramic dishes flew at the walls intermittently. It would’ve been a lot easier if Ito wasn’t so injured, and if Reigen hadn’t been so insistent on following along. However, Serizawa was reluctant to leave them behind in the first place. Reigen’s go-to punching probably wouldn’t work on flying dishware and waves of spiritual energy. 

“My sister’s in here,” Ito said suddenly, and fell against a door. Serizawa heard knocking coming from the other side. 

“Akihiro?” Came the sister’s voice. 

Ito wiped at the blood running from his nose. “Yeah, it’s me. Remember that psychic that was on the news a while ago for being a fraud?”

Reigen visibly grimaced. 

“The guy that made everything float?” The sister asked, disbelieving. “You brought-”

“Yeah, he’s here, and his, um- employee? I think? They’re gonna exorcise Dad.” Ito explained, and the lock on the bathroom clicked. The girl poked her tear-stained face out through the crack. She looked much younger than seventeen, but what did Serizawa know?

“It’s actually you.” She said to Reigen, and Reigen waved his hand around half-heartedly. “I think you’re the real deal. Can you…?”

Right on cue, a knife whizzed past Serizawa’s head and dug into the bathroom door. Everyone gasped in shock. Serizawa whipped around and sent a blast of energy in the direction the knife had come from. Nothing happened. A vase fell to the ground and shattered. Whoops. Serizawa should’ve been more careful.

Reigen, spurred into action by Serizawa’s near-death experience, suddenly remembered what his job was. “We’re gonna go find the source of your dad’s power. A lot of vengeful spirits are tied to objects. Is there anything your dad would’ve been particularly attached to?” He asked. 

“Um,” the girl thought for a moment. “I don’t know. I didn’t know him that well.”

“That’s fine,” Serizawa said, waving his hands at her trembling face. “I’m sure I- we can find it anyways.” He grabbed Reigen’s wrist and dragged him deeper into the house. 

“Can you really find it?” Reigen asked once the clients were out of earshot. 

Serizawa nodded. “He’s close. And he’s pissed.” 

They stepped into a master bedroom, where the energy felt the most potent. Serizawa had to shield his eyes for a moment. It was bright . He could just barely make out the outlines of familiar shapes- a bed, a dresser, the door to a closet- but the spirit’s light was the only truly visible thing in the room. It swirled around sporadically without uniform or consistency. Ah. So it wasn’t a particularly strong spirit, just a tormented one. Serizawa felt its anger stabbing into his chest. Irritation bubbled up under his wrists. 

“S-” Reigen started, only to be thrown back against the wall. He slid to the ground and clutched his arm, hissing. 

“Reigen!” Serizawa shouted. In turn, he was thrown back as well, but not as violently. He slid back a few inches before throwing up a barrier. He had to yell to be heard over the mayhem.

“Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine!” Reigen shouted back, and Serizawa was going to have to check if that was really true once this was over. “Just get rid of it!”

“Working on it,” Serizawa grumbled, and lifted his arm. 

It took some doing- more effort than it usually took to exorcise spirits- but, in the end, Serizawa had more focused power than the spirit. His concentrated powers made relatively quick work of the father’s vengeance. In the blink of an eye, there was a bright, bright flash, and then the room went dim. 

Serizawa kneeled down next to Reigen and hovered his hands over his boss’ arm. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’ve been tossed around by spirits before. That was nothing,” Reigen said with a flourish, but accepted Serizawa’s help getting up anyways. 

The Itos were incredibly thankful, and tried to pay Reigen for his service, but Reigen waved his hand. “Technically, you never hired me in the first place. I’d rather you both go to a hospital.”

“Thanks for the help. Our family’s super crazy,” the sister apologized nervously. 

“I know the feeling,” Reigen said, and shook her hand.

The train ride back to Spirits and Such was fairly quiet, aside from Serizawa’s prodding to make sure Reigen was really okay. Reigen kept insisting that he was fine and that he’d just have a nasty bruise in the morning. Still, he winced when he lifted his suit jacket over his head to protect himself from the rain. Serizawa smiled and lowered a barrier around Reigen’s head. He left himself vulnerable to the rain.

Reigen nodded in appreciation and asked, “What about you?”

Serizawa shrugged, closed his eyes, and let the rain run down his cheeks. “I like the rain.”

The office door was open. Serizawa didn’t remember leaving it open, but he was the last one out the door. “Please don’t tell me we got robbed,” Reigen groaned, rainwater dripping from his damp hair, and immediately began searching through his desk to make sure everything valuable was still present. It was. There was only one thing missing from the office. 

“Miruku.” Serizawa said, panic crawling up his back. “Where’s-”

“Oh, shit,” Reigen replied, whipping around to check Miruku’s frequented spot of the windowsill. “He couldn’t have gotten far. He’s probably still in the building. Come on.”

Miruku wasn’t in the building. Not in any of the stairwells, or any of the other units, or the roof, or the lobby. All they’d accomplished while searching through the building was waste time. Static wrapped around Serizawa’s fingertips. 

“It’s okay,” Reigen reassured. “I doubt he’d go very far. He likes you.” 

It was still pouring outside. Serizawa forgot to put a barrier up around Reigen again, but Reigen didn’t comment on it. “We should split up,” Serizawa said, breaths heavy and measured. If he didn’t stay calm, Miruku was as good as gone. “I’ll go left, you go right.”

Reigen left with a salute and a turn of his heel. 

The search was fruitless on Serizawa’s end. The alleys were empty, the streets were barren, and the rain stole all of the air. He tried everything. He made clicking noises like Shigeo had all that time ago, he called Miruku’s name, and he tried acting like he had a toy in his hand to trick Miruku into appearing. The minutes limped by. Nothing. 

The sun was setting. Finding a black cat in the inky night was going to be near impossible. A pebble settled in Serizawa’s throat, and he would’ve choked on it if he didn’t have a cat to find. 

-

“Where are you, you bastard?” Reigen called. He’d been searching for far too long, at that point. Maybe twenty minutes. He didn’t want to wander too far away from the office, but he’d doubled over every area surrounding it, and then some. “Helloooo?” 

He shivered from the cold and cupped his hands around his mouth, whistling. Did cats even respond to whistles? Useless animals. A dog would’ve come running fifteen minutes ago. 

Reigen wiped rain out of his eyes and started making those strange clicking noises Mob made to call cats. He felt ridiculous, a grown man standing in the middle of an empty street in the rain. His clothes were completely soaked through. His hair was plastered all over his forehead. Closing time was in ten minutes. And he was out in a goddamn hurricane, hunting for Serizawa’s dumb cat. 

He didn’t want to think about what would happen if Miruku was really lost. Serizawa would lose it. Reigen could vividly imagine him stapling hundreds of missing flyers all over the city. Serizawa didn’t deserve to lose any more sleep. He didn’t deserve to lose more of anything . 

Reigen groaned and cupped his hands around his mouth again. “Miruku,” he called. “I’ll let you chew up all of my ties. I’ll let you eat all of the food in my house. I’ll start paying you. You can buy whatever you want with the endless money I’ll give you.” The babbling was more for Reigen than for Miruku. He couldn’t stand the way anxiety made his hands shake, so he tried not to let it get to him. It certainly helped that his hands were numb from the rain. 

The grey hues of a rainy sunset were beginning to be smothered by nightfall. The street lights came on. And Reigen was still searching for Miruku. “Serizawa’s gonna be crushed, you stupid animal. You don’t want to hurt Serizawa’s feelings, do you?” Guilt-tripping a cat was a new low. “He saved you, and you’re just gonna run away? Ridiculous. I’m docking your pay.”

Reigen checked his phone for any updates from Serizawa. Nothing. Poor guy. The distrubed ache in Reigen’s chest was probably nothing compared to whatever anxiety Serizawa was pushing through. “You’re gonna make Teruki cry. You’re a real jerk if you’re fine with making Teruki cry. And if Teruki cries, Mob might cry or… something, and then where will we be, huh?” Reigen ducked into a covered alley, just to get out of the rain. “Stupid cat. Meow if you’re a stupid cat.”

There was a meow to Reigen’s left. An astoundingly familiar one. 

“So you are a stupid cat,” Reigen said, nearly giddy. He removed his tie from around his neck and kneeled down to the ground. Beneath the dumpster, Reigen spotted one glowing, yellow eye. He smirked and slid one end of his tie under the dumpster. “Come on. Get it.” 

Miruku batted at the tie and latched on. 

Reigen yanked his arm back and scooped Miruku up into his arms. He got clawed once or twice, but, eventually, Miruku submitted and relaxed in Reigen’s arms. “Found you.” 

He babbled to Miruku the whole time he walked back towards Spirits and Such, shielding the cat from the rain as best as he could. He talked about how he was glad Miruku wasn’t hurt, and scolded him for running off, and told him all about the clients from that afternoon. 

-

To Serizawa’s credit, he went a good twenty minutes without panicking. After that, however, his searching became more erratic and desperate, checking under slabs of cardboard and peering into the windows of locked stores. Miruku wasn’t anywhere to be found. He checked his phone every ten seconds in anguish. 

He wanted to take a few minutes to sit down and get his thoughts together, but Serizawa was fairly sure that if he stopped moving for even a second he would throw up. 

“Serizawa! Hey!” 

Serizawa whipped around at the sound of Reigen’s voice, stunned. 

Reigen jogged up to Serizawa, panting. He was holding something to his chest, bundled up in his suit jacket. His tie dangled loosely from his fist. “You were almost harder to find than the cat.”

“What?” Serizawa asked, still dazed. 

Reigen pulled Miruku out from under his jacket. The cat looked so small. He shivered the way he did when Serizawa first found him. 

“You found him,” Serizawa said plainly, eyes fixed on Miruku’s. 

“Am I not the best boss in the world?” Reigen asked with a wide grin, scratching the top of Miruku’s damp head. Rainwater cascaded down Reigen’s face in racing streaks, so he had to squint in order to see. The rain waterfalled from his hair and pooled on his shoulders. He shivered almost as violently as Miruku, but didn’t seem to care. The smile plastered on his face was unhindered- and it wasn’t a smile of pride, or relief, or humor. Reigen was grinning at Serizawa like that because he was genuinely happy to help. He found joy in hunting through the pouring rain to find the cat Serizawa continuously brought into work. He found joy in handing Miruku back to Serizawa after nearly thirty minutes of searching when he should’ve been working. He found joy, somehow, while soaked with rain and trembling. While Serizawa knew Reigen would complain about the cold later, he also knew that Reigen truly didn’t care. 

That kind of unadulterated generosity was the kind Reigen exercised on the day he and Serizawa met. No questions asked, Reigen saw something in Serizawa, something worthwhile, and handed him a business card and told him to call. Reigen must’ve known the risks. Any sane person would have weighed the pros and cons and determined that it was ridiculous to hire Serizawa, a man with zero experience in normal, adult society. But Reigen had seen someone in need. He did what he thought could help.

That kind of unadulterated generosity was the kind Reigen exercised, somehow, even in a fraudulent business. It was a miracle, really. 

That kind of unadulterated generosity could’ve made flowers bloom in the middle of the night. 

Reigen tried to hand Miruku over to Serizawa. The normal thing to do would have been to take his cat, thank Reigen profusely, and find a way to pay him back somehow. The cold must’ve knocked Serizawa’s brains around a bit, because instead of holding his cat, he was holding Reigen’s freezing face between his palms and pulling him into a kiss. 

Miruku was nearly forgotten, proceeding to be squished between Reigen and Serizawa as they kissed. The cat’s shivering, rain-soaked head poked out miserably between their chests. He meowed once, and then gave up. 

When Serizawa pulled back, his hair wavered up a bit at the ends, and the joyful smile on Reigen’s face was gone. It had been replaced with something more bewildered. His brows were furrowed like he was concentrating intensely on something. 

“Are you going to fire me?” Serizawa asked, holding Miruku to his chest. The cat was still bristling from being flattened. 

Reigen laughed, high and breathless. “No. I should’ve fired you a long time ago for bringing that thing into my workplace.” He said matter-of-factly, pointing at Miruku. “So I think at this point nothing will get me to fire you. I like you too much.”

Serizawa choked a little and scratched behind Miruku’s ears. “I-”

“Can we go inside?” Reigen asked abruptly, waving his hand around as if it would either command the rain to go away or dissipate the strange, humming energy in the air. “I’m gonna freeze to death out here, and so is your bastard cat.” 

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Serizawa replied, mouth dry.  

“You don’t have class today, right?” Reigen asked as he shut the Spirits and Such door behind them.

“Nope,” Serizawa replied, tucking Miruku under his raincoat. They’d dried him off painstakingly using paper towels, and Serizawa was determined not to let him get soaked in the rain again. Reigen, determined not to let himself get soaked in the rain again, shook out an old umbrella. 

“Great,” Reigen said, rummaging around in his suit pockets for his keys. He locked the door with measured finality and said, in a voice that was more exhilarated than stern, “We’re gonna go drop Miruku off. You’re gonna let me use one of your towels to actually dry my hair off. And then we’re gonna go get some food. And you are going to explain yourself.” 

“Aw, Miruku can’t come?” Serizawa complained, staring down at Reigen teasingly. 

“Don’t push your luck,” Reigen sang, and started his way down the hall. “That cat has caused enough trouble, thank you very much.” 

Miruku meowed from beneath Serizawa’s coat, as if to proudly agree.