Archive of Our Own

Teru drifted in a world of half-dreams. Colors swam around him, indistinct and fleeting. He was so comfortable. Warm all over and wrapped in a familiar softness that his mind recognized as safe. Home. Teru sighed out a yawn and stretched. It was nice to not have to get up yet. Reigen’s alarm wasn’t buzzing, so maybe he could go back to sleep?

Teru rolled, curling onto his stomach and hiking a leg up, and…

And he grew warmer beneath the blankets, something a little different than usual. A little strange, but a little bit good. It made his eyelids flutter. Sleepiness pulled him down again, away from any conscious thought that could put words to what was happening. Teru pressed his face into his arm and pushed his body forward. A pleasant but confused hum sounded in his chest when that felt even better.

Curious, Teru did it again, and the steady breathing that had been carrying on beside him came to an abrupt stop.

Hm…? Teru cracked his eyes open and looked out into the dimly lit bedroom. Nothing seemed to be wrong. He rubbed his eyes with clumsy fingers and propped himself up on his elbows to peer at Reigen. The weird warm feeling didn’t quite leave, but that wasn’t important if something was going on with his dad.

Reigen was wide eyed and staring up at the ceiling like his life depended on it.

“Reigen?” Teru asked, sleep-muddled concern sparking to life in his belly.

“Well, what do you know? Time to make breakfast,” his dad said in a single, strained breath.

He was out of the bed before Teru could even blink, hurrying towards the door. He’d only just passed the doorframe when his alarm started to blare behind him and Reigen made a jerky U-turn to run back and aggressively jab the reset button. The sound jarred Teru out of his daze. He sat up and watched, completely bewildered, as Reigen did some kind of stiff, robot walk out to the living room.

What on earth?

Teru blinked and looked down, and the reason for the weird, warm feeling became uncomfortably apparent.

Oh… Oh, oh no. That was not-

He dropped down to the bed, his stomach swooping. Teru buried his face under his pillow and curled into a ball.

This hadn’t really happened before. There had been times before when his pants felt a little funny or his stomach got kind of twisty in a good way, but it had never happened while he was sleeping. He’d never really felt the urge to move.

Teru scrunched his whole body up and stayed as still as he could. It wasn’t long before everything felt normal again, minus the vague sense of mortification that gripped him. He laid there until he could hear Reigen banging around in the kitchen. Oh god, Reigen wasn’t going to want to talk about this, was he?

Teru hoped not.

Peeking out from under the blankets, Teru’s eyes darted to the clock. He had school. He couldn’t afford to hide any longer. Teru threw back the blankets and got dressed as quickly as he could. Ran to the bathroom. Brushed his teeth and washed his face with extra cold water. He stared at his reflection for longer than was necessary, nervous eyes raking over his features.

He didn’t look any different. Maybe his uniform shirt felt a little shorter than it normally did, but he was probably imagining it. He hadn’t had any growth spurts lately. In fact all the girls at school towered over him. But they were taller than Shigeo, and Inukawa, and almost every other boy too. When they’d whined about it, both Reigen and Mr. Kageyama agreed it was normal and they’d catch up by the end of middle school.

Teru thought he’d be a little taller before this started happening.

Swallowing down his nerves, Teru made his way out to the kitchen. Reigen twitched when he came in, a forced grin tugging at his lips. He fussed around the refrigerator and wouldn’t look directly at Teru at all.

Teru opened his mouth to say good morning, but Reigen cut him off, his voice too loud.

“Hey bud! Do you want anything special for breakfast? I was going to heat up some leftovers. Need a good breakfast today. Don’t you have a math test? I’ve got a couple clients coming around noon and I’m not sure I’ll have time for lunch, so I was thinking I would pack something extra big for both of us. Good brain fuel, you know? How would you like the takeout from the other night? I think that would be good hot or cold, so-“

Ah, okay.

They weren’t going to talk about it then.

The tension left Teru’s shoulders and he slumped into a seat at the table. Most of him was beyond relieved. There was a tiny spot in the back of his mind that started to feel jittery. He’d made Reigen uncomfortable.

He squashed those thoughts before they could dig their roots in.

Reigen didn’t want to talk about it and that was fine. Neither did Teru. It probably wasn’t a big deal. Definitely wasn’t. It had just been a fluke and it wouldn’t happen again.

It did.

Not even a week later they were sharing another awkward breakfast and pretending that everything was perfectly normal. Teru kept his head down. Kept his eyes on his food while Reigen blathered on about one of his high school teachers maybe having been possessed.

Teru did his best to listen, but it was hard. The jittery feeling was beginning to shift into words. Underneath the incoherent, embarrassed screaming going on in his head there was a whisper of something big. Something scary. Teru shrunk away from it, focusing his entire being on Reigen and on the heat in his cheeks.

This wasn’t going to become a problem. It wasn’t. Teru just wouldn’t do it anymore and everything would go back to normal.

Except he couldn’t figure out how to make it stop happening. It wasn’t exactly like he was doing it on purpose, so it was less about stopping and more about realizing what was going on as soon as he could and making sure he froze before Reigen noticed. Holding still felt kind of wrong though. It made him feel a little ashamed instead of just self-conscious.

That wasn’t a good change, but it was better than something else changing, right? A better alternative to the change Teru was avoiding with his whole heart.

It was better than what the whispers were saying.

Freezing worked until it didn’t.

Teru jolted at the sound of Reigen flying out of the bed and right out of the room. He blinked against the light streaming in the cracks around the curtains, feeling oddly short of breath for more than one reason.

Teru was palming himself through his pajamas pants.

He snatched both his hands to his chest, heart pounding double time beneath his ribs. He’d been too drowsy to notice what he was doing. Had woken up feeling so warm and so good that for a minute he’d forgotten that there was someone just a few inches away. Forgotten than he was sharing a bed with his dad.

For two weeks he’d been flustered by this. Awkward and embarrassed and praying that the whole issue would magically resolve itself.

But this time felt different. This was the third time he’d accidentally chased Reigen out of bed. The whispers weren’t whispers anymore. They were shoving their way to the forefront of his mind, clamoring for attention. Insistent. Teru hated them. He wanted them to be wrong.

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Teru slipped out of bed and stood beside it for a moment. He wrung his hands together and tried not to let them twist into his sleeves. Anxiety thrummed under his skin. He just needed to talk to Reigen. It didn’t have to be anything scary. Maybe this wouldn’t mean what Teru thought it meant.

Teru sucked in a shaky breath and made his way out to the living room. Reigen was facing away from him, starting up the coffee maker with stiff movements. Teru couldn’t bring himself to sit at the table. Why did he feel like he was presenting himself like a lamb for the slaughter?

Reigen spun towards the stove, his hands jumping around for something to grab. He startled at the sight of Teru lurking in the doorway. A too-wide smile plastered itself on his face and made his eye twitch.

“Morning kiddo,” he said with a spasm-like wave.

Teru didn’t smile back. He couldn’t say good morning when he was quite sure all he would manage was a sound of distress. They stared at each other for a long few seconds and Reigen’s expression fell. His dad’s entire body slumped along with it. Reigen took a hesitant step closer.

“Teru… Aw, jeez bud. You look like you’re going to cry. Don’t…”

Reigen pulled out a chair and dropped into it, blinking hard and running his hands through his hair. His eyes flicked to Teru and away again, but it was long enough that Teru could see the resignation there.

And the apprehension.

“It’s okay, Teru. Really. It’s normal. I just.” Reigen let out a hysterical little chuckle, gaze fixed on the wall. “I don’t really know how to this puberty talk.”

Teru tucked his fingers up into his sleeves and held tight, watching Reigen fidget.

And then Reigen said the exact thing Teru had been afraid of.

“I think it’s time I move to my own room.”

Expecting it didn’t make it easier. Didn’t stop him from shaking his head wildly, his voice stolen by the sudden and intense hurt that seared through him. It made perfect sense that Reigen would make this decision, but Teru couldn’t control the bizarre feeling of abandonment that rose up and gripped his heart. The feeling of rejection, and of loss, and of frustration that for the hundredth time in his life there was something big out of his control.

Reigen nodded to himself. “Yeah, I think now would be a good time. You’re almost thirteen and it’d be better to do it now than in a few months when you’re changing schools, don’t you think? That would probably be too much at one time.”

That made sense too. It almost made Teru angry, how reasonable it was for Reigen to be saying all of this. Teru didn’t feel like being reasonable at all.

“You don’t have to,” he said quickly. “I’ll stop. I mean it.”

That was borderline a lie. It had happened when he was in the shower yesterday without any warning at all. He didn’t know how to make this stop, and that was frightening.

Reigen pursed his lips. He looked like he was restraining himself from saying something, biting down on the words before they could spill out into the tense air between them. Sweat beaded along his hairline.

“You’re… not going to stop. There’s no magic button to turn off puberty. Sorry. In fact it’s probably going to start happening more often, and there’s going to be more than just dreams-“

“There’s no dreams!” Teru cut Reigen off. His face was beet red, the heat of it reaching his ears. “I just wake up and stuff’s like that! I’m not- There’s nothing! No dreams.”

Reigen’s shoulders shook and Teru wasn’t sure if he was being laughed at or not. His dad scrubbed a hand over his face, staring out the window.

“Okay, okay, no dreams. God, you’re still little.” Reigen smothered a stressed sound between his lips. “I’m not ready for this. My fault. I was hoping we’d be in our own rooms by the time this started.”

Teru shrunk in on himself. He felt like he should apologize, but it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t ask for this.

Reigen sat up straight, looking to Teru with a sudden hope in his eyes. “Would you rather talk to Mr. Kageyama about this stuff? He has boys. He’d probably be a lot better at this than me.”

Teru’s stomach lurched.

“No. No, no, no, no, no Reigen, you can’t tell him! Don’t do that!” Teru gasped, stepping back from Reigen at the betrayal. There was no way his best friend’s dad could know about this. What if he told- “Don’t you dare.”

He pinned his dad with the fiercest glare he could muster, cheeks pink and fingers trembling.

“Alright, I won’t say anything to him,” Reigen said, sounding mildly disappointed.

Neither of them said anything after that, an awkward quiet settling over the apartment that Teru hated. He didn’t like this distance that was suddenly stretching between them.

“I don’t want this,” Teru finally mumbled.

Reigen sighed.

“I know. But listen, you’ve been sleeping pretty well for a while now. And you’re going to be a teenager soon, and… I think you might appreciate the privacy,” he said uncomfortably.

“I won’t.”

Being stubborn wasn’t going to get him his way on this, but Teru couldn’t help it. Reigen moving over was so much more than him moving out of the room. It was Teru sleeping alone for the first time since he lived with his mother. It was the long-ignored room being acknowledged. Being opened.

It was Reigen being somewhere Teru couldn’t go. Cut off from him at night, when Teru was going to need him the most.

Reigen… Reigen knew that, right?

“Maybe not right away,” Reigen muttered, crossing his arms to hide the growing damp spots under his arms. “And I know it sucks, but I- Teru, I am going to start sleeping in my own room. We’ve got the whole afternoon open today, so why don’t you come with me to the mattress store and we can pick out  a new bed? Do you…?” His dad made a face. “Do you want to pick out a bed, or do you want to keep the one we have, and I’ll pick out something for myself?”

Teru squirmed, irritation prickling at his insides. He didn’t want to choose at all. He didn’t, but the thought of Reigen leaving and taking the bed with him… Of being alone in an unfamiliar bed in the dark…

Reigen waited.

“I don’t want a new bed,” Teru whispered, and he wished it were a shout.

“That’s fine. We can go after lunch and you can pick out a big pillow or something to put on my side if you think that’ll help.”

Teru scowled at the floor. That was so not the same.

“Okay, well, I tried,” Reigen said when he didn’t answer. He looked like this conversation had aged him a decade.

Teru resisted the urge to cry, his throat tightening. Reigen usually let him get his way. Especially if he was upset. It was rare for him to actually stand his ground and Teru didn’t like it. It made him feel small to not be able to make his own decisions. On some level Teru had known that eventually he would have to face the facts and confront the slider problem, but he’d imagined it would happen on his own terms.

He never thought Reigen would force it like this.

“I’m mad at you,” he said, his voice shaking.

Teru turned and stomped back to the bedroom, clambering up and burying himself underneath the sheets once more. Frustration coiled around his heart and his lungs, and Teru glowered at the sight of Reigen’s pillow beside him. He pushed it off the bed in a fit of childishness.

The empty spot stared back.

Teru trailed behind his dad at the mattress store and was only one step short of deliberately unhelpful. Reigen tried to get his input on what bed he should pick. Tried to joke around and get Teru to hop up with him and see which ones were the comfiest. He tried to get Teru to pick out a ridiculously colored body pillow from the children’s section, but Teru refused.

He rejected this entire situation with every fiber of his being.

Reigen wasn’t going to move over tonight, was he? That was too fast. Teru couldn’t wrap his head around it all yet. Was he going to have to sleep alone tonight? All because his body decided to… To do something completely unnecessary. He was twelve.

Were they going to go home and open the door at the end of the hall? Teru’s stomach was tying itself in knots. Maybe he was going to be fine. Maybe he’d miraculously not have crippling anxiety at the sight of the balcony door. Maybe, but last time he’d been near one he’d blacked out and had an agonizingly slow four day recovery in which he felt achy and sick and fuzzy headed. And he’d scared Reigen.

Why was his dad inviting an opportunity for that to happen again?

It had been two years, but the memory hadn’t left him. Not the apartment hunting disaster, nor the original incident. Not the hand burning his arm nor the untouched mess of his mother’s apartment.

If Reigen thought he was ready for this, he was wrong.

Teru stood back and watched his dad negotiate for a cheaper delivery, feeling like he was sinking.

“And it’ll be delivered tomorrow? Wonderful, thank you. No, I’ll take that with me now, thank you for offering,” Reigen said with a business-like smile. He paid and picked up a body pillow, tucking it under his arm. He’d adamantly said was for himself, but Teru would bet anything that his dad planned to sneak it into Teru’s bed.

Teru’s bed.

They walked back to the train station in the snow, Reigen chuckling at the funny looks he was getting for carrying a huge, vibrantly patterned pillow along the sidewalk. Any other day Teru would think it was funny too. He couldn’t even bring himself to smile.

“Are you leaving tonight?” he asked when they got home.

Leaving. The word had slipped out, but it wasn’t wrong. A little dramatic, maybe, but it was how Teru felt.

Reigen hopped out of his boots, shooting him a shrewd look. He kicked them to the side of the genkan and grumbled when he stepped in slush in his socks.

“Not tonight, Teru. The bed will come while you’re at school tomorrow, okay? And we can set it up together if you want. We can take it slower than that if you need to. You don’t…” His eyes darted to the closed door and Teru’s followed. “You don’t have to go in there if you don’t want to.”

He didn’t.

Setting up the bed would undoubtedly be easier with two people, but Teru couldn’t bring himself to try. His heart squeezed in his chest at the thought.

He shook his head and went to the couch, curling up and staring out at nothing. So what if he was moping?

“I can’t tell how much of this is you legitimately being upset with me and how much of this is pre-teen theatrics,” Reigen sighed, peeling off his socks and padding into the living room.

Teru wasn’t really sure either. It all felt like him, so how was he supposed to know if the feelings were coming from one source or another? If the emotions were his, why did it even matter? He tucked his feet between the cushions and stayed quiet.

“The bed will be here tomorrow, but I have to work most of the day. Who knows, maybe I’ll be tired and not feel like setting everything up when we get home. I’d say… I’ll probably have my room ready by Wednesday. How’s that? We can have a few more nights together?”

Reigen sat on the couch and Teru didn’t move. He was right there, but his dad felt so far away.

“Teru? Come on, kid. Talk to me.”

Teru leaned further into the cushions, studiously looking away from him. It was the opposite of what he wanted, but he was angry and scared and so, so lonely. It didn’t seem like talking to Reigen was going to stop any of this from proceeding, so what was the point?

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Reigen offered after a little while.

Teru screwed up his face against the sadness in his dad’s tone. He was being difficult and he knew it, but he couldn’t stop. His heart hurt for too many reasons.

He shrugged.

Reigen set them up with a movie and stayed on his side of the couch, putting out a bowl of chips between them. Teru nibbled on one or two, his belly too unsettled for much more. The closed door behind him felt like it was looming over his shoulder. He stayed quiet long after the credits ran. Even if Reigen wasn’t going anywhere tonight, the creeping darkness carried a threat it hadn’t in a long time.

Teru only had occasional nightmares these days, but when he did they were cruel, a nasty mix of memories and imagined horror.

Night came too quickly. He got ready for bed and crawled under the blankets, gaze tracing over the familiar patterns of the streetlights on the ceiling. Reigen followed soon after, sighing hugely as he flopped back onto the mattress.

“Teru… You know this isn’t a punishment, right?”

Teru glanced over at those quiet words, his eyes wide.

“I’m not mad at you for growing up or needing to uh, do what you’re doing,” his dad said, his hands waving around above them. “I just don’t need to be here for that, and I don’t think you really want me to be either. But I’m not going far. You can still come get me if you need me. I’m not leaving you, Teru.”

“You are.” Teru’s voice was more croaky than he expected. “I can’t go in there.”

Reigen’s mouth pulled into a frown and he winced.

“Then call for me, okay? I’ll come here.”

Teru bundled the blankets up by his ears, fighting against the prickling in his eyes. He huffed a few times to get his breathing under control enough to talk.

“Promise?”

Reigen looked him right in the eye.

“I promise.”

Teru shuffled closer and Reigen lifted his arm so that he could snuggle into his side. Reigen’s fingers carded through his hair and Teru found himself relaxing out of habit, the closeness a comfort he’d try extra hard to treasure while he had it.

With the lights out and the soft sound of passing cars in the snow, Teru didn’t find falling asleep all that hard.

Teru closed himself in the bedroom and texted Shigeo the whole time Reigen put his new bed together. He’d felt okay when he woke up that morning, but his mood had deteriorated throughout the day. His friends had asked him what the matter was a handful of times at school when he became increasingly distracted and snippy. All he’d said was that he was tired. That he had a bad night.

Most of them knew enough to stop asking after that.

Shigeo had sat extra close at lunch, filling Teru’s silences with stories of his visit with his grandmother over winter break. Teru appreciated it. Appreciated that neither Shigeo nor Ritsu asked if he was okay for real until the others had run off for a minute.

Teru had no intention of telling them what he was stressed about, but he told Shigeo he would text him later.

So he sat on the bed and filled Shigeo’s phone with cat emojis and did everything he could to ignore what was going on in the room beside his. Tried to drown out the rising fear of a big, empty bed by playing twenty questions and letting Shigeo win even when his guesses were so far off the mark that Teru wanted to laugh. Teru put music on the radio and hummed along so that he wouldn’t hear the periodic sound of the door opening.

Reigen knocked some time later, coming in only after Teru said it was okay. That felt weird for a million reasons. It was still Reigen’s room, right? A couple more nights.

“How’re you doing?” his dad asked, coming to sit on the edge of the bed.

Teru jerked his shoulders in a shrug. “Are you all done?”

Reigen yawned, stretching his arms up and groaning. “Yeah. What is it, eight thirty? Didn’t take as long as it felt. Want to come see?”

A shakiness in Teru’s stomach rippled up towards his lungs. The slider wasn’t going to jump out and attack him. Claw was gone, had been gone, for years. The worst Teru had been hurt since then was when he had busted his knee open on a rock trying to show off for Shigeo at the park last summer.

No one was going to break in. It was just a door, but…

“No.”

Teru’s phone went off in his hands and he couldn’t bring himself to look at it.

“Are you sure? I did a really good job,” Reigen said temptingly, wiggling his eyebrows.

“No.”

“No, you’re not sure? Or no, I didn’t do a good job?”

Teru turned to his dad, irritation crumpling his mouth into an odd shape.

“No, I don’t want to see it,” he bit out.

He really didn’t. There was something poignant about the fact that Reigen had gotten himself a twin. Teru had been surprised at the choice, and not in a good way. Reigen likely didn’t mean anything by it, but it had driven another spike into his heart.

There was no room for Teru there.

“Fine, don’t see the results of my blood, sweat, and tears,” Reigen trailed off dejectedly. It was so fake, but Teru wouldn’t rise to the bait. He texted Shigeo back and kept his eyes fixed on the phone.

Reigen suddenly put a hand on Teru’s foot and squeezed. Teru startled, nearly dropping the device into his lap.

“Teru?”

“What?”

“How would you feel about me sleeping in the other room tonight?”

Teru’s heart dropped down to his toes. No. No, Reigen had said they would have a few more nights, why was he changing his mind? Had he done something in his sleep last night and not even known? Did Teru really make him that uncomfortable?

“Don’t. No, don’t do that,” he hurried to say. He stared at Reigen with wide eyes.

“You say that, but you seem pretty okay, kid.”

He seemed okay? Did he look okay? He wasn’t crying or hyperventilating, sure, but he certainly didn’t feel okay. Panic reactions like that were becoming less and less frequent and Teru thought that was a good thing, but if Reigen was interpreting Teru’s behavior as calm then he was going to have to reconsider.

Teru shook his head.

“You said Wednesday,” he said breathlessly.

“Yeah, but I think this could be really good for-“

“You said Wednesday,” Teru repeated, his voice going higher when his heart fluttered. “Reigen, you said Wednesday. You said-“

He was stuck, fear washing over him like a wave that Reigen would suddenly start disregarding what he was saying. Reigen wasn’t- Reigen was good at listening to him. Reigen had always listened so hard to what Teru wanted, but Teru didn’t want this and was Reigen going to start-

“Alright, alright, I hear you. Wednesday. No sooner,” Reigen assured him, scooting closer and taking one of Teru’s hands in his. “Sorry. Less okay than I thought, huh?”

Teru let out a miserable sound. He curled his knees in and hid his face in them, holding Reigen’s hand tight. The bed shifted beneath him and Reigen’s other hand ran over his back. He tipped over into his dad’s side, a mix of relief and heartache twisting his insides.

His phone went off.

With one hand, Teru texted Shigeo back, welcoming the distraction.

“Anything fun going on with Mob?” Reigen asked.

Teru sighed.

“Not really.”

His phone pinged again and a hint of a smile tugged at his lips.

“But he says hi."

Wednesday was here before Teru knew it. He could barely do his homework he was so keyed up. Reigen’s bedroom door had stayed closed whenever Teru was home, but he knew that it had been open at other times. The closet had emptied of Reigen’s clothes, and the nightstand on his side of the bed was missing when Teru came home from school on Tuesday.

Teru’s bed was pushed against the wall now. Reigen had tried to sell it as a good thing, as Teru having more space in his room now, but all Teru saw was a void where his dad was supposed to be.

The TV was on. Teru didn’t hear it. The only sound that reached his ears was the ticking of the kitchen clock, its hands moving too quickly.

Bedtime was coming and there was a pit opening up in Teru’s stomach. He didn’t want to go to bed. He didn’t know if he’d ever not wanted to go to bed this badly. He was working himself up and he knew it, but nothing was holding his attention long enough to be a proper distraction.

Teru stayed on the couch and stared blankly at the TV until Reigen nudged his arm.

“Come on, Teru.”

Teru hummed a tiny sound of refusal.

“Yeah, you can do it. I’ll tuck you in,” Reigen said encouragingly. He crouched and met Teru’s eye. “Do you want me to stay with you until you fall asleep?”

“I’m not going to be able to sleep,” Teru said, both a confession and a promise.

If he didn’t sleep then Reigen would just have to stay with him all night.

“You look pretty tired, bud. I know it’s been a rough couple days. I think you might surprise yourself. Let’s at least try.”

Teru let himself be tugged to his feet and shuffled off towards the bathroom. He got ready on autopilot. Would it really be that bad? He was going to be thirteen in two months. He should… He should be able to sleep on his own. Did he really think he was going to sleep with Reigen forever? All he had to do was lay down and close his eyes.

Claw was gone. Claw was gone. Claw was gone.

He was okay. One night at a time.

Teru came out of the bathroom and needles of anxiety stabbed under his skin to see Reigen’s door cracked. He could hear someone moving around and opening drawers beyond it. It was Reigen. It was just Reigen, Teru knew that.

He crushed his arms to his stomach and dug his fingers into the fabric of his pajama shirt, cautiously making his way across the living room like any sudden movements would invoke an unpleasant surprise. His bed was waiting for him, the neon body pillow sitting innocently at the foot of it. Teru sat cross legged in the middle, waiting.

Reigen tapped twice on the doorframe before coming in.

“You good?”

Teru did a double take at his dad, the simmering fear fading for a moment to make way for exasperation.

“You’re wearing those on purpose,” he accused.

Reigen launched himself onto the mattress with a comically complex flourish, landing on his back and winking up at Teru.

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh.” Teru eyed the horrible purple sweatsuit. The bear’s face eyed him back.

“Hit the lights, would you?” Reigen shimmied around and made himself comfortable on top of the blankets.

It wasn’t difficult to hop out of bed and go to the light switch. Pressing it, however, took more effort than Teru wanted to admit. He stood there in the dark and held his breath. He wouldn’t look out to the hall. He wouldn’t think about the fact that Reigen’s door might be open and the slider was in there. It felt like an overbearing presence in the house.

It was suffocating.

“Are you coming?”

Lightheaded, Teru turned and hurried back to Reigen’s side. He kneed his dad in the stomach in his frantic rush to hug himself close.

“Oof. Oh man, okay. Hey there, Teru. Welcome back,” Reigen wheezed.

Teru wrapped his arms around his dad and smushed his face into his nasty pajamas. Pressed so close he could feel Reigen’s ribs under his cheek.

Reigen chuckled a little and adjusted them so that they weren’t so close to the edge of the mattress. A hush settled over the room.

“Hey.”

Teru hummed in response.

“I’m uh. I’m proud of you,” Reigen said softly.

That wasn’t what Teru expected him to say. He peeked up at his dad, eyes round in the dark.

“I know I’m pushing you on this. I know it sucks and it’s scary. So thanks for not throwing a giant tantrum about it.”

Teru frowned. “I want to. I don’t feel good.”

“Yeah, and with all those new hormones raging, it’s impressive that you haven’t put your fist through a wall or something. You’re actually doing really good.”

“This is good?” Teru asked in dismay. God, if he was doing well, what on earth were other kids like?

“Believe it or not, yes,” Reigen laughed.

“Yikes.”

“Yikes indeed.”

Teru loosened his grip on Reigen a smidge. His heart still felt like it was trying to beat out of his chest at the idea of his dad leaving the room later. His belly was still clenched tight, but Reigen was proud of him, and he was laughing, and Reigen thought he was ready for this.

And okay, maybe having some privacy would be nice-

Teru yanked his thoughts away from that subject before he could get any further, glad that Reigen couldn’t see his face flushed in the dark.

He pulled in a deep breath and shut his eyes. Reigen’s thumb rubbed back and forth on his shoulder and it was familiar and soothing and… And even with that comfort, it took Teru ages to fall asleep. He saw midnight come and go, guilt for keeping Reigen up so late making it ever more of a struggle to relax. Reigen nodded off periodically, keeping himself awake as the night wore on by mumbling mind-numbingly boring statistics on water bubbler sales.

That was what did the trick in the end.

Teru slipped away from the waking world and floated. Moonlight crossed the floorboards. His fingers twitched once, twice, and then his eyelids fluttered. With a whine, Teru reached out, his mind fuzzy with sleep.

His hand met only a cool pillow.

The room was too quiet. The bed too cool on Reigen’s side. Teru choked on his next breath, scrunching his face against the swell of loneliness that rose up in his chest.

Reigen was just next door and it felt like a mile.

Tears welled in his eyes and Teru swiped at them, smearing the water over his cheeks. He didn’t need to cry. Everything was going to be okay. He could do this. Teru just had to make it to the morning. He didn’t want to use the pillow Reigen got for him, his stubborn streak flaring even now when there was no one to see. But after nearly half an hour of tossing and turning he finally pressed his back to it and sort of hated that it made some of his anxiety retreat.

Teru slept, and woke again.

And again.

And again.

It was the longest night he’d had in a while, and when the sun decided to make its way in the cracks around his curtains, Teru was already awake to see it. He dragged himself out of bed and went out to the living room.

Reigen was already on the couch with a mug of coffee in his hands and bags under his eyes.

“Hey, congratulations,” he said, and his voice was rough, but the message was genuine. “How’d you sleep?”

“I woke up all the time,” Teru huffed, falling onto the cushions beside his dad and letting his eyes close once more.

“Mm, me too, actually. But no nightmares?”

Teru shook his head.

“Good.”

Warm fingers carded though his bangs and Teru would fall asleep right here if Reigen kept it up.

“I’m going to fall asleep at school. Can I have coffee?” Teru whined.

He squinted up at his dad when the man snorted, choking on his drink and nearly spilling it all over himself.

“You can’t have coffee, Teru. You’re twelve.”

“Please?” He added a pout for good measure.

“Nice try. No coffee. We’ll go to bed earlier tonight.”

They tried. They really did, but it was midnight again before Teru knew it, and being exhausted wasn’t enough to stop him from waking multiple times before his alarm went off in the morning. By the time Saturday rolled around Teru was drained and cranky and wondering what the heck was the point of all this if he hadn’t even woken up with a you-know-what since Reigen switched rooms.

Life decided to pay him back for all his whining at the most inopportune time.

Teru’s eyes went wide. Oh god, not now. No, no, no, there was no way this was happening. There was no way his pants were feeling too warm and too tight in the middle of math class.

Teru panicked in silence, praying his teacher wouldn’t call on him. He couldn’t focus on what was going on at the front of the room when he was using all his self-control to stop from squirming in his seat. Could anybody see? Would it be suspicious if he put his bag in his lap? Why didn’t he sit at the back of the class? Was he the only one this was happening to, or were there other boys in his grade also wishing they were dead?

Was this kind of thing happening to Inukawa and Shigeo-

Nope, he was not going to think about that. Nope. Nope. Not happening. What did people say to think of? Sports?

Teru put all his effort into imagining the school sports teams. Thought of the soccer team and the baseball team and the jump rope club. His belly flip-flopped. It wasn’t working. Oh god, why wasn’t that working? He was just getting all sweaty instead.

Teru hunched over his desk and prayed to the puberty gods for deliverance.

The good news was that the next week found Teru falling asleep closer and closer to his normal bedtime.

Even if he still woke in the night, lonely and nervous, the consistent bedtime routine was starting to work. Teru did his homework, took a shower, and then Reigen sat with him and they talked for a bit before turning off the lights. It started to feel closer to something to look forward to instead of something to dread. Teru could snuggle up beside his dad and enjoy the quiet words and the reassuring hand on his back.

Teru woke early one morning, feeling strange and warm and good in a particular place. He blinked around at the empty room, feeling shy even if there was no one there. Reigen was probably still asleep.

This was privacy.

If he wanted to explore a little, no one was going to know. If he wanted to figure out how to make the good feeling better, nothing was there to stop him. If Reigen noticed his abnormally pink face at breakfast, well…

Reigen didn’t say a thing.

After three weeks of having separate bedrooms, Teru was sleeping through the night. He wasn’t taking long to nod off. He wasn’t so irritable. Very privately, Teru considered that it was possible Reigen had been right and he’d been more ready for this change than he’d thought.

Of course it was when everything was looking up that disaster struck.

Maybe it was the stress of upcoming finals. Maybe it was that he was gearing up to switch schools. Maybe it was that his Home Ec partner dropped a knife during class. Maybe it was none of these things or all of them combined.

Whatever it was, something set Teru off in the worst way.

Running.

He was running. Running and running but his legs wouldn’t move. He couldn’t feel them, or the pavement under his feet, or the chill of the air on his skin. There was only terror. Terror bleeding in from the dark around him and out from his bones.

People passed by him like blurs, but the world was robbed of their voices. All Teru could hear was the screech of car breaks on repeat. The sound was carving its way into his brain, too loud, too quiet, too sharp and echoing and muffled all at once. Teru couldn’t make himself heard over the din of it.

There were eyes on him.

Predatory eyes, he was nothing in the face of such power. There was no hiding.

Teru looked behind him.

Cracked furniture lay on the floor. Reigen’s bookshelf. Shigeo’s old work desk. Shimazaki stood beyond the glass of the slider, haloed in the black of the night.

Teru pushed himself to run faster, straining with everything he had to get away. The lights twisted unnaturally along the street as he went. Colors warped in the shadows accompanied by the wail of distant sirens.

Shimazaki was closer. A terrible smile behind the glass.

Broken concrete and bent metal in the alleys he passed. Too slow, he was moving too slow, he needed to go faster. He pushed and he couldn’t. There was no away.

He didn’t want to see, but he looked. He looked and Shimazaki was there, long fingers stretched to the handle. He couldn’t feel his heart beating. Only fear.

A car horn beeped deafeningly in his ear and he was on his back on the floor, and it was Shimazaki pinning him down. Shimazaki’s hand over his mouth. Shimazaki smiling while his arm was on fire.

Shimazaki opened his eyes.

Teru’s own flew open, wild and panicked, and in an instant there was a barrier between himself and the rest of the world. His heart was pounding, sweat making his pajamas cling to his back, to his arms. His left arm was prickling with pins and needles and he knew he’d probably slept on it funny, but there were phantom pains of burning handprints and broken wrist bones crawling under his skin.

Teru was shaking all over, radiating out from his core and making his teeth chatter.

He wanted Reigen. He needed Reigen. He needed him. He needed him-

Shimazaki beyond the glass.

Teru couldn’t pull in a full breath, fingers clenching in the sheets desperately. Tears were streaming down his face. He needed Reigen, but he wasn’t right here and Teru couldn’t-

How could he call for his dad when he couldn’t make a sound?

Shimazaki had never been caught. He was still out there. There was no reason for him to wait this long to come back for Teru, but there was no way to know for sure that he wouldn’t.

What if Shimazaki was there?

“R-Reigen?“ Teru’s first attempt was nothing more than a whisper.

He pushed himself to sit up, his back pressed to the wall. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t. He needed his dad right now, Teru was being strangled by this fear. The room was too dark. Too empty.

“Reigen…”

Not loud enough, there was no way he’d hear that. Teru needed to be louder, but he couldn’t stop trembling. Couldn’t get his lungs under control enough to shout. His chest spasmed with his hiccupping breaths.

“Reigen-” he cried, curing over his knees on the bed. He sobbed into the blankets. “Please.”

Teru couldn’t go to him. He couldn’t do it, he wasn’t ready. Not when there was glass-

Shimazaki grinning down at him.

“Reigen!” The shriek tore from him without warning and left his ears ringing.

A thud and the rush of footsteps answered.

Reigen barged into his room and Teru dropped his shield, reaching for him. His dad swept him into his arms without hesitation.

“Hey, you’re okay. You’re okay. Shit, Teru, I’ve got you.”

Teru crushed himself to Reigen and fell apart. The dreams of before the children’s center were always the worst, leaving him feeling so young and both desperately wanting and hating his mother. Any dream with Shimazaki seemed to linger, harder to leave behind him when at times he still felt like a threat.

This had been a double whammy.

Reigen shushed him, sitting on the bed before Teru’s weight took them both down. He curled around Teru the best he could, but these days Teru was all elbows and knees. He didn’t fit in Reigen’s lap the way he used to and his heart was breaking.

Teru sobbed, unable to banish the memories that came with such a nightmare. He didn’t want to think about them. Didn’t want to think about Shimazaki finding him here. Lurking outside and just watching-

A shudder ran through him and his stomach lurched.

“Woah!” Reigen pulled away from him when he gagged. “Okay, bad night. Bad night.”

Teru was manhandled down to the floor, his dad gently pushing his head between his knees. Breathing came easier, but the loss of Reigen’s arms around him was devastating.

“Can you move to the bathroom or do I need to get a trash can?” Reigen asked.

Teru gasped, shaking his head. He wasn’t nauseous.

“You sure? Just worked up?” Reigen knelt beside him and rubbed his back while he shivered.

“He was here,” Teru babbled, frantic to get the words out before they poisoned him. He pointed a shaking hand past the wall. “He was there, and I- And I couldn’t run, and everything was loud and wrong and- and my arm hurts.”

“Your arm hurts now?”

Teru was crying too hard to explain.

Reigen disappeared for a moment and suddenly Teru was blinking against the lights. His dad reappeared, his face creased with worry.

“Here, come on. Arms up.”

Teru didn’t resist when Reigen peeled his soaked top up over his head. Gentle hands brushed over his feverish skin.

“What kind of hurt, bud?”

Teru swallowed thickly, not wanting to look. The fear of seeing shining burns or purpling bruises was too much.

“Tingling.”

“I think your shirt got really twisted, that’s all. See?”

Teru hesitantly peeked over and took in the red lines overlapping his bicep, a dozen twisting folds of fabric. His heart slowed minutely. Chilly and already wracked with shivers, Teru climbed up and wrapped his arms around Reigen’s neck. He tucked himself to Reigen’s chest. With the immediate panic starting to fade, Teru let himself cry it out.

His dad reached up and tugged an extra blanket off the bed, wrapping it over them both.

“You’re not going to go back to your room, are you?” Teru hiccupped when his eyelids started drooping.

“No. Not unless you want me to.”

Teru didn’t want that.

“Stay please.”

Reigen hugged him closer.

“I’m not going anywhere, Teru."

The only problem with Reigen spending the night was that it made the next night so much harder. It was like separating all over again, with the added bonus of Teru not wanting to go to sleep in the first place, terrified of having another nightmare.

No matter how much of a fuss he put up, Reigen wouldn’t cave.

“If I stay another night it’s only going to be harder for you when I go back. I don’t want this to become a cycle, Teru.”

Reigen was right and Teru knew it. Frustrated and inexplicably hurt, he didn’t talk to Reigen for the rest of the night. He closed the door to his room at bedtime and sulked. Didn’t answer when Reigen tried to come say goodnight.

Teru sat on his bed in the dark. He couldn’t have another nightmare if he wasn’t sleeping. But being awake meant thinking, and thinking meant eventually acknowledging that he was being dramatic again and that Reigen was just trying his best for him.

Reigen was just a single person trying to raise a really difficult complicated kid.

At two in the morning Teru crept into the hall with his heart in his throat. He couldn’t stand the feeling of fighting with his dad. He wanted to say sorry, even if it meant waking Reigen up. It was important. He stood in front of Reigen’s door for what seemed like an eternity, toes growing cold and his breaths shaky.

The door was open just a crack. An invitation.

Teru touched his fingers to the wood, trying to talk himself up to pushing it open enough to go inside. He could do that, right? It was just a room. Just a balcony. Just a door.

Swallowing hard, Teru gave a tiny push. The door swung in an inch or so, revealing nothing more than a lot of dark. A lot of dark and one small slip of light shining in from-

Teru was in the kitchen before he could blink, crouched beside the refrigerator. His back was heaving like he’d run a marathon, his gasps echoing in the quiet. No, he was wrong, he couldn’t do it yet. He wasn’t ready. Teru blinked past images of red fog and constellations on the TV screen and tried to pull himself together before he started to cry. He didn’t want to melt down two nights in a row. He was already really tired, and he had school in six hours. Freaking out wasn’t going to help.

Red-rimmed eyes peeked up to the living room. He should try to go to bed. He could apologize in the morning.

But going back to his room meant going near Reigen’s door and he didn’t trust himself not to look and scare himself again. After a long internal battle, Teru made himself comfortable at the kitchen table. It was only a little cold in here. He curled his toes together, laying his head on the table. He was so tired of being scared, but there was no turning it off.

He was so tired…

“Teru? Teru, what are you doing in here? What happened?”

Teru blinked. He felt awful, stiff and cold and achy. Uncurling dragged an unpleasant sound out of him, half whine and half groan. Sunlight streamed in from the window and reflected off the coffee pot and the toaster and a million other reflective surfaces and right into his eyes.

Reigen was right in front of him.

“Huh?” Was all he managed to say.

Reigen frowned, turning Teru’s chair to face him. His eyes darted over Teru’s face, over his wrinkled sleep shirt and the goosebumps on his leg where his pants had ridden up.

“Were you out here all night?”

Teru rubbed at his eyes and blinked dumbly at his dad for a minute, the words not really processing.

“Reigen?”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. For giving Reigen the cold shoulder. For refusing to say good night. For probably being the reason Reigen had shadows under his eyes again. “I was a pain.”

His dad covered his mouth with his hand and let out a soft snort.

“You got up early and camped out in the kitchen for that?”

Teru huffed out an exhausted breath and shook his head. “No. I couldn’t sleep and I wanted to apologize, but… I tried to go in and I couldn’t do it.”

His dad looked stunned. His eyes drifted to his closed bedroom door and back.

“You tried to come get me?”

Teru nodded.

“You tried to come in?”

“Yeah, but I got really scared and got stuck in here. I could see the-“ Teru swallowed, his throat dry. “I could see the slider and I was too scared to go back to bed.”

Teru hadn’t thought about how Reigen would react to this piece of news, but he was surprised when his dad’s eyes went soft.

“Teru, that’s huge. You actually went up to the door? In the middle of the night, by yourself? Holy crap, kid. That’s a hell of a step,” Reigen said with a proud grin.

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

Reigen flapped a hand dismissively. “You’re a terrible judge of your own behavior, Teru, I swear. Take my word for it. Even if you couldn’t take a single step inside, I’m blown away.”

Teru bit back any arguments he might have had, too cold to stop the shudder that traced up his spine. He hid his frozen fingers in the belly of his shirt.

“Cold?” Reigen put a hand on Teru’s knee and it felt like heaven.

“Uh-huh.” Teru yawned. “I feel like crap.”

His dad winced. “Yeah, two nights worth of garbage sleep will do that to you. How’s this?” He stood with a clap. “You go take a shower and warm up, and I’ll call you out of school. You can play hooky and sleep on the couch in the office today. You’ve earned it.”

Teru didn’t understand, but he was not going to turn down that good of an offer. He hurried to the bathroom and washed up, delighted when he came out and Reigen tossed a sweatshirt at him. It was the big grey one that Teru loved. The one that still swamped him even after a few years of growing. He tugged it on with a sleepy grin, warmed in a way the water never could.

The drunk grin stayed the whole trip to Spirits and Such, and while he sprawled on the couch and listened to Reigen digitally exorcize a whole stack of photos. It stayed until Serizawa showed up at eleven, thoroughly confused as to why he wasn’t at school.

“Are you sick, Teru? You look a little pale. Can I get you anything?” he fussed, looming over Teru and wringing his hands.

Teru shook his head.

“No, Reigen’s in the slider room and that sucks. But I was a brat and had to say sorry and almost went in, except I got stuck in the kitchen and now Reigen says I have to sleep on the couch because he is super proud of me.” The smile stayed, widening at the confusion swimming in Serizawa’s eyes. It had been gibberish and Teru knew it, but saying anything more would be too much.

“Oh um, I’m proud of you too then?”

Teru giggled when Reigen stifled a snort.

“Thank you very much."

Spring came along early that year and gently pried winter’s frozen grip from the earth. It replaced the piles of snow with rippling puddles. Turned the raw wind to a fragrant breeze. Filled the empty spaces between the branches with a million green buds.

Teru turned thirteen on a day so warm he wore shorts, relishing in the feeling of no longer needing to be bundled up.

A crowd of friends filled the apartment, and Teru was having so much fun he didn’t even notice that Reigen’s door had been left halfway open. Didn’t notice when it was opened even wider as the afternoon wore on. The door being fully open, however, did catch his eye and Teru stopped in his tracks, his stomach swooping unpleasantly.

But then Shigeo grabbed his hand and said it was time to blow out the candles and Teru’s stomach swooped in an entirely different way.

The slider was forgotten.

Things got a little easier when Teru finally found the words for why it felt okay for Reigen’s door to be open sometimes, and other days it felt like a single glimpse would cause him to crumble.

“I don’t like when I can’t see outside,” he said quietly one night over dinner. “If there’s- If there’s light reflecting on the glass I can’t see. Or curtains. Nighttime is- I can’t see out there if it’s dark.”

Teru took a shaky sip of water and Reigen waited patiently.

“I think it’s okay during the day. To have the door open. It’s not so bad. But- But if I can’t see if there’s someone out there… That’s- Reigen, I can’t,” he broke off, too stressed out by the mental image to continue.

Reigen listened, and the door to his room stayed open during the day and closed as soon as the sun started to go down. Teru found himself relaxing more and more.

Growing up was causing its own share of issues, but if there was something Teru liked about it, it was that he was finally able to put his fears into words in a way he hadn’t before. He could untangle the mess of bad and scary into something that made sense. Into something that they could acknowledge and work on.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like taxis, it was that he didn’t like to walk by parked ones, or ones stopped at traffic lights.

It wasn’t that all hot days made his stomach hurt, it was the smell of hot tar.

It wasn’t that all fires were bad, it was that sudden heat on his face made his heart stutter.

Narrowing it all down made the world a lot less overwhelming.

As it always did, progress came at unexpected times and in unexpected ways.

Teru was wrenched back into the waking world, his heart jackhammering under his ribs. There were tears in his eyes and fear screaming through his veins, but it wasn’t for him.

Teru was out of bed and tearing down the hall before he could even think. Reigen’s door crashed into the opposite wall and Teru launched himself into his dad’s bed. He could barely see, but it didn’t matter. That didn’t matter so long as Reigen was-

“Holy shit! Teru? Fuck, you scared me. What’s the matter?” Reigen reeled at the rude awakening. He hurried to hug his son back, Teru’s stranglehold on him making the movement difficult.

Teru gasped for air and held tighter. Reigen was alive. He was okay, and he was here, and Shigeo had saved him. An explosion played over and over behind his eyelids, his ears ringing with his own screams. He didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want to put this particular horror into words.

Reigen already knew.

His dad leaned his cheek to Teru’s hair, breathing deep and slow as if Teru could copy him.

He couldn’t. Not now, at least. Later, when he wasn’t desperately trying to listen to Reigen’s heartbeat, he’d try. When he wasn’t drowning in remembered grief.

Teru pressed himself to Reigen and counted to a hundred until he’d counted to a thousand. Reigen’s arms around him loosened, his breathing slowing even further as sleep reclaimed him. Teru blinked into the dark, so close that his eyelashes dragged over the fabric of Reigen’s sleep shirt. Teru hadn’t lost him. He wasn’t alone.

They were okay.

Comforted, Teru slowly drifted away to the sounds of Reigen nearby. The night passed around them, tangled together in a bed not nearly large enough for two.

Teru woke to snoring. He scrubbed at his eyes and pushed himself up to his knees, wobbling. Why was it so bright this early? A yawn stretched his face and he squinted around at the unfamiliar surroundings. The light was coming from the wrong direction, his window was over there…

Oh.

Teru stared at the slider, blue sky beyond and sunlight spilling across the floor.

It looked… It looked really nice out. Teru sat on the mattress and just watched the world go by until the initial shock wore off.

He’d come in. He was in Reigen’s room. He’d slept here and not thought about the slider at all.

Could he do more than that? There were no curtains. No reflecting lights. The balcony was small, most of the space taken up by two chairs. And was that a little plant in the corner? The tomato plant Shigeo had given them last year? It was hard to tell. Teru couldn’t quite see from here, so…

So Teru carefully extricated himself from the bed, not wanting to wake Reigen. The floor was cool under his bare feet, warmed in the places the light streamed in.

Nervous, Teru stood in front of the balcony door. There had been a time when this wasn’t frightening. When the balcony was one of his favorite places. An escape from a suffocating household. Teru had no need for such a thing now. Home was warm and safe and so, so good.

Teru touched the glass, a thin ring of fog misting out around the tip of his finger. It was still chilly out.

Teru chewed on his lip. He didn’t have a sweatshirt, but if he walked away now he was going to lose his nerve. He flipped the lock feverishly, hoping it wasn’t enough to wake his dad. He didn’t think he could do this with an audience.

Reigen only snored louder in reply.

Teru took a deep breath and pulled the slider open, stepping out into the morning. Damp spring air stole the lingering heat from his skin and raised goosebumps over his arms. The concrete was dried of its dew already, but cold in the shade of the building. He shut the slider most of the way and shuffled over until he was in the sun.

Being outside was monumentally different. There was no fear out here, only a feeling of nostalgia. How much time had he spent out on the balcony before he met Shigeo?

Teru lowered himself to the floor, kicking his feet up to rest against the building and looking up to the sky. There were no dragonflies to talk to, but the tendrils of the tomato plant hung in his view and Teru smiled softly at them. He set his hands on his belly and watched an airplane cross the sky from horizon to horizon.

This was refreshing in a way he had never expected.

Teru let the sun crawl over him and soak into his pajamas. He had no idea what time it was when he heard footsteps coming in his direction. The door slid open and Reigen’s head poked out, muted shock on his face.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” Teru whispered.

Reigen slipped out to join him, the door clicking shut behind him. He ignored both chairs and sat himself down in the sun by Teru’s head. He didn’t speak.

“I used to love the balcony,” Teru said when he felt ready. “I think I forgot.”

Reigen hummed thoughtfully.

“You have two chairs out here.” Teru turned his head to look at his dad.

Reigen smiled. “I do.”

“Can we use them sometime?”

“We could use them right now if you wanted, you know.” Reigen chuckled and waved a hand to the unused seats. “Not sure why you’re upside down. Is that comfortable?”

Teru wiggled, taping his heels against the brick.

“I think it used to be more comfortable. I’m kind of boney,” he said with a frown, rubbing at one of his elbows.

“Yeah, I swear you grew an inch this week. Cut that out, okay? No kids taller than their dads in this house, thank you very much.”

Teru shook with a muffled laugh. There was quite a ways to go before that happened. Teru had a lot more growing to do.

He was on his way.