Chapter Text
Shigeo’s mind is dark. There’s reasons for that, many and few and all and none, as confusing as it sounds. Shigeo doesn’t know why Question Mark won’t turn on a light, but he also knows exactly why. There are some things better off staying hidden.
Maybe that's why he doesn’t realize he’s wearing a skirt until Question Mark looks up at him, glowing eyes squinting in the dim light. The being’s whole body glows slightly, Question Mark’s mere presence in his mind akin to a beacon- or more fittingly, a black hole. All that negative energy shines, brighter and brighter the more Question Mark feels. All that negative energy, feeling in Shigeo’s place what he should feel himself. Even if that means feeling anger, or hatred, or something else. Even if it means hurting others.
That’s one of the few problems with Question Mark “taking care” of Shigeo. That’s what Question Mark always says, anyway. That the being is here to take care of Shigeo, and if that means beating a few guys into the ground- c’mon, what’s the harm if they hurt us, Shigeo?
Anyway. Off-topic. Shigeo is wearing a skirt. Back on topic.
“You look... nice,” Question Mark says, blunt but with feeling. The fabric swishes, soft against his legs. The being hobbles up, stretching. Question Mark’s form stretches with the being’s arms, pencil scratches darkening against the shadow background. Ever-changing, ever moving, ever drawn into the lines of Shigeo’s brain.
“Really?” Shigeo replies. His arms move back and forth, and in tune with them, his hips shift just a little bit. The skirt moves, corresponding to every movement. It’s hard to focus on Question Mark when he’s watching the skirt. It’s dark, just like this place in his mind where the two spirits reside- or, that’s what he thinks they are. They must be spirits.
“Yes. Maybe you should ask for one,” Question Mark says, eyes on Shigeo. Shigeo looks back up, no longer mesmerized by the movement of the skirt against his legs. He can feel his face burning.
“I-I can’t ask for one!” Question Mark shrugs, leaning against- no, not a wall. There were few walls in this place. Leaning against- nothing, then? Seems on brand for how the being functions.
“Why not?”
Shigeo shakes his head, hands bunching into fists, clutching the fabric. He doesn’t want to take it off, but he wants… what does he want, exactly?
He pushes the question away, twisting the material in his fists. “I don’t think Mom and Dad would like that.”
Question Mark sighs, standing to the being’s full height. Despite being only a little bit taller than Shigeo, the energy Question Mark radiates makes the being seem like Question Mark takes up whole rooms. Shigeo is finding it hard to breathe, finding the place fading fast around him. He can only stay in his mind when he can concentrate, and right now, he’s not concentrating.
“Ask the Man, then.” The voice ripples, fading in and out.
And then Shigeo opens his eyes- and he’s just laying on his bed, alone in the dark.
All throughout his classes, he thinks about it. It’s the next day, the sun shining bright in the sky. There has been no sign of Question Mark, nor the other one. It’s strange- usually, they both have plenty to say. Shigeo keeps his hands to his sides, keeps making fists where the skirt was. He misses the phantom feeling of its weight.
Finally, he’s released from school. He lifts the weights he can, runs the miles gasping and fighting for his life. It’s a nice break from thinking about it, actually. When he’s focusing on running, there’s only the sounds of him struggling and the steps he still needs to run to listen to. No voices from his head, no skirts, no silly thoughts. Just running, just fighting on.
Musashi pats him on the back, and Onigawara says something that tips the line of insult and compliment, commenting on how much progress he’s made while running- aka only falling once, but still, the praise from the team makes his face flush in pride. It occupies his mind for a while, occupying it until Shigeo slips on his normal shoes and kneels to tie the laces.
When he begins to think about it again, he starts to realize just how tired he is. Shigeo isn’t ready to deal with it again. Shigeo isn’t ready to think about it again. Shigeo doesn’t want to work today.
But he has to go. His Master needs him. Or, the Man, as Question Mark calls him. The being’s final words from last night ring in his head as he walks there. He feels his mouth pull into a thin frown. What would be accomplished, exactly, by talking to Reigen about it?
And so he walks into the Spirits and Such Consultation Office, not exactly sure what to do. He walks in, greeting Reigen with his usual small hello, and sits at the cardboard desk near the door. He hopes avoiding Reigen’s gaze will avoid the question Shigeo can feel coming, but, really, he should have expected Reigen to pick up on his mood before he even walked in. That was just how he was.
“What’s on your mind, Mob?” Reigen leans over the desk, disinterested eyes drifting over Shigeo. Shigeo jumps in his seat, gripping the sides anxiously.
“I- what if I wore a skirt?” Shigeo blurts out, and then kicks himself for giving it away. The aim of the game was to not give it away.
Reign’s eyes grow a little more interested, a slight frown forming as he looks away, staring at the wall and chewing on nothing. He leans his chin into his palm, then looks to Shigeo.
“Well, the quickest way to answer would be to ask you: do you want to wear a skirt?”
Shigeo doesn’t reply, too busy staring at his shoes. The silence stretches on and Reigen sighs.
“Look, kid, anyone can wear anything. Anyone of any gender can wear anything of anything. There’s no shame in wanting to wear things that you like. I mean, you’ve seen that Hanazawa kid’s fashion, right? He can wear the stuff he likes, and the same applies here. A boy like you? You can wear anything! And if you want to wear a skirt, I’m all for it,” he says. Shigeo can tell he’s trying to go gentle, but something doesn’t sound right. He can feel his frown deepen.
“Hey, what’s wrong? Did you not like what I said?” Reigen says, puzzled. Shigeo’s head shoots up to look at him.
“No, what you said was fine. There was just something wrong with what you said. I can’t pin it down,” Shigeo replies, his voice quiet in the office air. Reigen’s eyes widen, then grow a little sad.
“Was it the boy part?”
“What?” It’s Shigeo’s turn to feel confused.
“Look, Mob, when I was your age? I wanted to wear pants. And I wanted to wear them not in the way a girl wears pants. Now, obviously, I’m not a girl. I’m a psychic. But when I realized that it wasn’t tied to wearing pants, it was tied to not being a girl- it just made things so much easier, y’know?”
Shigeo’s eyes widen, and widen some more. His mouth is agape, but he doesn’t realize it.
A plant blooms, tomatoes flowering before sprouting red fruits, and Shigeo feels the pieces slot into place.
It wasn’t about the skirt. It was about not being a boy.
And then reality came crashing down. And suddenly, he had no idea what to do. “What do I do now?” It was quieter than normal, drifting through the air on soft wings. When it landed, Reigen blinked and unfolded himself from whatever contraption his body was in.
“Well, we start with what makes you comfortable. Do you want a new name? New pronouns? New clothes?”
It was all rushing, suddenly. The world was in fast motion, singing songs of plans Shigeo hadn’t put in place yet. “I don’t know. I- I like my name. And no one has to buy me clothes- and, I don’t know-” Shigeo felt so small.
Reigen's eyes unfocused and then refocused. Leaning forward, he once again placed his chin in his hands. “Do you want me to try out some other pronouns for you, Mob?”
Say yes, and there was Question Mark, back from wherever the being had been hiding all day.
Shigeo took a second to steady his breathing before responding. “Yeah.”
Reigen nodded, eyes falling onto the floor. “Well, we’ll start with this. I am training a girl named Mob. She is a good psychic. One of the best, I’d say. She is a middle schooler who goes to Salt Lake Middle School, and in her free time, she hangs out with a body improvement club. How does that sound, Mob?”
“I like both of them,”
“Both of them?”
Shigeo looked away. “Pronouns. She and he. Does that not make me a girl?”
Reigen’s eyes widened. “No, of course not! Pronouns are just like clothes. You can take them on and off as you see fit. Just because you choose to use one or the other, or both in your case, doesn’t make you any less of the person you are.”
“Oh. That makes sense.” There was something in Shigeo’s throat. She!
Shigeo felt her eyes well up with tears, and grasped her hands together against his chest, feeling a wave of something wash over him. See, I told you to ask the Man , Question Mark muttered from the back of her head.
Reigen stood up quickly, a look of panic on his face as the chair rolled back and bumped into the wall. “Mob, are you ok?”
Slowly, her hands came up to wipe at her eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you.”
Her boss stood there for a second, hands twitching and clearly not knowing what to do. She watched him take a deep breath, clearing his throat. Walking over, he gently placed his hand on his head and ruffled her hair. “Do you want to go get some takoyaki? Maybe window-shop along the way?”
Nodding, Shigeo gathered her things, following her mentor out of the shop and into the street.
“So, what do you want to do about other people? Do you want to tell them or what?” Reigen said, offering his words to the warm air. It was summer, and the office’s AC had broken. The day had been slow, partly because of the lack of customers and partly because of the broken AC. It was a few days after Shigeo had realized that she was a girl, and she’d spent giddy nights mouthing her pronouns to herself. She’d thought about telling Ritsu, but every time she thought about it going well her stomach turned. Shigeo didn’t know why, she was worried. Maybe it’s because it still felt like a secret- new and fresh and hers. Something solid about herself, something that the spirits in her head couldn’t get to.
“I thought about it. I don’t know just yet.” Reigen nodded, leaning back in his chair.
“Yeah, it can be tough. Take all the time you need to figure things out. There’s no rush to tell anyone.”
Shigeo stared at her hands. “I want to tell people. I want to tell Ritsu, and… I’d like to tell Hanazawa too.”
“Well, do you need to practice what you want to say? Need some pumping up? A little bit of the ol’ revitalizer?” Reigen was moving fast in his seat, pose changing every few seconds to punctuate his words. Shigeo shrugged, turning to face Reigen.
It was then that her phone beeped on the table beside his hand, and Shigeo startled out of her thoughts at the sudden realization.
A group chat.
“I know how to tell everyone.” Reigen turned from where he was still posing, blabbering to himself about how important practice was and the logistics of her gender powerpoint presentation- whatever that meant.
“Well? Share with the office!” He waved his arms out, both of his hands bumping into his desk as he did so.
“I’m going to start a group chat,” Shigeo said, “and... I think I’ll come out like that.” Reigen sat there for a second, blinking.
“Well, be sure to invite me. I want to see how this goes down. Er, purely to make sure you’re ok, of course.”
“I will.”