Archive of Our Own ^beta

Softness envelops him-

The faint smell of cotton and wool.

The darkness stretching on and on, and he falls endlessly into it-

His bare knees rub against the stitch loops.

Was there something he was meant to be doing? If felt like something had shifted. The air tasted different. It was like the world had tilted on it's axis whilst he'd been looking away, and he couldn't remember which way it was supposed to go.

He reaches his fingers up and up and up-

Mob opens his eyes.

He's met with his own reflection, a wobbling grey imitation of his face, staring blearily at him from across the room. It takes him a moment to realise he's facing a small TV balanced precariously on a coffee table and three large books. It takes another to realise he's in Master Reigen's apartment. Why had he-

Master Reigen.

Ritsu.

Shou, and Teru, and he's in the sky cackling manically with unfettered gratification and there's the solid click of a gun behind him and he has to act now now now and the pressure is going to-

Mob is sitting bolt upright on Master Reigen's sofa (when did he sit up?) and the frayed blue blanket someone had laid on top of him has slid onto the floor, and he can't breathe- he can't get the air into his lungs- he can't- can't-

Mob tucks his knees up to his chest and puts his head down so it's dark and quiet and safe and counts:

1

2

3

4

5...6,

7, 8, 9, 10

And then back down.

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

He thinks about nice things; ladybirds, and green, and watching clouds, and upbeat music, and his father's laugh and his mother's cooking, and his little brother rushing into his room to tell him about a new trick he'd learned with his powers, and eating ramen with Master Reigen. And then he feels a lot calmer, and his breathing has evened out, and everything is okay again.

And Ritsu- Ritsu-

Mob looks around the room. The apartment is shrouded in a thick gloom, but sure enough, right next to the coffee table, sprawled out on a bedroll, is the shape of Ritsu; fast asleep and slightly drooling.

The relief hits his stomach like the sharp enormity of a wave breaking.

He's safe. He's alive.

He's alive, he's alive, he's alive.

Mob gingerly picks up the blanket from the floor, shakes the dust off, and folds it neatly back on the sofa. When he stands up, the wooden floor is cold under his feet. He creeps around the furniture, armed with only muscle memory and pools of moonlight.

'Mob?'

Mob whips around, hand outstretched, aura surging forward.

'Woah!' says the voice. 'Easy. It's just me.'

Mob is already lowering his hands, his energy rapidly subsiding.

'Sorry, Master. You surprised me.'

Master Reigen absently stubs out his cigarette on an ashtray by the half-open window, and side-steps in front of it as if he could prevent Mob from already having seen it, or the faint plume left unobscured by his shoulder.

'You alright? I didn't wake you up, did I?'

'No. I was just going to get a glass of water. I got thirsty,' Mob explains.

'Glasses are in the top right cupboard,' says Master Reigen, which Mob already knows, but it's still somehow reassuring. 'Does your brother want anything?'

'He's still asleep.' He has to reach on his tip-toes to get the glass down from the cupboard. He just manages. He could float it down, of course, but somehow he can't quite face it. 'Master, what time is it?'

Reigen reaches into his sweatpants pocket to check his flip phone. 'Just gone one.'

'Oh.' Mob runs the tap on the lowest setting possible so he doesn't disturb Ritsu. 'I'm surprised you're still awake.'

Master Reigen laughs grimly. 'It's been a hell of a day, huh?'

'I suppose,' Mob says, measuredly. And then, because Master Reigen is staring at him with an odd expression on his face: 'yeah.'

He sips his water. It's cool and blissfully refreshing, and before he knows it he's drunk the entire thing. He refills his glass.

'Wow, you really were thirsty,' Master Reigen laughs. 'Your parents messaged me to say you and Ritsu were fine to stay the night here, by the way. And they said they sent you a picture. I told you earlier, but I think you were a little bit out of it.'

'That's good.' Mob had assumed that Master Reigen or Ritsu would have told his parents where he was anyway, but the confirmation is nice. 'Thank you, Master.'

Master Reigen is looking at him carefully. It's the same way Ritsu looks at him after he's been given bad news, or Tome looks at him when he says 'I've never done that before.' Studious, but trying to look unconcerned. He isn't sure he likes it.

Master Reigen's face is half-shadowed by moonlight, but he can see an uncharacteristic tension to his jaw, and he's frowning. Mob isn't sure he likes that either.

'Master, are you okay?'

'I'm fine, Mob.' There's a wobbly, incredulous edge under his tone. 'What about you?'

Mob thinks about it for a moment. Ritsu is safe. His parents are safe. Master Reigen is safe. Teru's safe. Tome and all of his clubmates are safe. The city outside has slumbered into steady peace. Claw doesn't exist anymore. And rubble... rubble can be rebuilt.

'I'm fine. Just a little tired.'

Master Reigen looks at him again, bites his lip slightly and looks away. 'There's milk in the fridge, if you want it. You don't have to just have water. I mean, your choice, of course.'

Mob perks up immediately. He does want milk. Mob always wants milk. 'Except for a little while, after you-know-what,' whispers a little voice in Mob's mind that sounds like buzzing flies and distant laughter.

Mob firmly quells it and opens the fridge.

There's a full bottle of milk in the fridge door, next to a couple of eggs and old take-out sauce packets. It's unopened, and it takes Mob a few seconds to fully process what that means. His chest suddenly feels very heavy, and his throat aches again, and the back of his eyes prickle. He breathes; in, then out, tries not to sniff, and takes the bottle out of the fridge.

'Thank you. You didn't have to buy anything for me.'

'It's only a bottle of milk, I'm not exactly breaking the bank.' He sounds faintly bemused. 'But I'm glad it makes you happy.'

'It does.'

There's a minute of comfortable silence, as Mob pours milk into a glass and places the bottle back in the fridge. He sort of wants to tell Master Reigen that he doesn't mind if he wants to smoke - his dad's been smoking around him since he could toddle - but he's always hated the smell and he can't quite find the words.

'Mob,' says Master, cautiously. 'I know you're tired, and if you want to go to bed and talk about this in the morning, that's alright by me. But I think we should have a talk about everything that happened today. Or, yesterday now, I suppose.'

Mob thinks yesterday has never felt like such a wonderful word. Yesterday. Yesterday. He can draw a hard line between then and now, and the two never have to intersect again. There's such a beautiful finality to it.

Yesterday means Mob doesn't have to think about it anymore.

'Okay,' says Mob. He doesn't want to talk about it at all, but maybe this way they can do it quickly. This way, Ritsu doesn't get to see his face.

'Firstly,' Master Reigen begins, 'I want to say sorry to you. I should, never ever have let you up into that tower alone. That was a stupid oversight, and a deadly one. I know I already told you that, when we were up there, but I want to give you a proper apology now. As your Master, I'm responsible for protecting you, and I dishonoured that, and I'm sorry. It won't happen again.'

Mob looks at him in surprise. 'I went up that tower of my own free will. Then, when I was in trouble, you saved me. You don't need to apologise for that.'

Master Reigen takes a deep breath. 'It's not- thank you, Mob- but I. I want to do better at looking after you, that's all.'

Mob doesn't really know how to respond to that, so he just nods.

'Secondly, I think we should.' Master Reigen clears his throat. 'I think we should talk about what happened between you and Suzuki.'

Mob's palms start to sweat. He resists the urge to rub them against his shorts.

Monster, Master Reigen doesn't say, as Mob floats above the city, laughter crackling through his body in a maniac rhythm as energy pours from his hands. Monster, monster, monster.

'I had the gun on him, and he had grabbed you by the hair.' Master Reigen swallows. 'We talked, you passed out and then Serizawa saved me right when Suzuki was about to strike me. Suzuki tried to retaliate, but at that point you came to my rescue. Then, Serizawa and I evacuated, and the two of you began to fight.'

Mob feels the skin on the back of his neck prickle. He curls his toes firmly into the wood of the kitchen floor. His palms are still sweaty. He wishes Master would stop recounting it all, as if he didn't see the hard glint of fury burning in Mr. Suzuki's eyes. As if he could have forgotten the cold hard floor digging into his cheek, his fingers twitching uselessly as his Master cries, footsteps edging backwards towards the window.

'-rocks flying and I couldn't see much of you but glimpses for that part,' Master Reigen says. 'You came barreling back towards us, yelling that Suzuki was going to explode. So we all started running and I turned back and you weren't there.'

Mob twitches his fingers slightly against the glass.

'Why?...' Master Reigen clears his throat uncomfortably. 'Why did you turn back, Mob?'

'I wanted to try and stop him exploding. Or, um, mitigate it,' Mob answers truthfully.

'Ok,' Master Reigen says, slowly. 'So you had a plan to try and stop him but it went wrong?'

Something must flash briefly across his face (Master Reigen has become scarily adept at picking up Mob's micro-expressions) because his gaze softens and he hastily adds:

'I'm not trying to blame you for anything here, alright? I'm just trying to piece together what happened.'

'I went back, and I put up a bubble around us to try and lessen the impact of the explosion.'

'Okay. Then, what happened?'

'It was a lot of power.' Mob absently fiddles with a thread on the hem of his shorts. 'I really tried, Master, but I couldn't contain it all. He was just sort of raw power at that point.'

'I know you tried.' Reigen pauses and swallows. 'You said 'us' earlier; you were in the bubble with him?'

'I don't think I could have contained it as well from the outside.' There's a thin red thread between his index finger and his thumb. 'And I, um, thought someone should be there.'

The moth's wings turn red in the lamplight as it lazily circles his room. Mob sits against the bedroom wall and doesn't move. Mould climbs up the ceiling. Mob doesn't know how to clean it, so he stares at the moth arcing up and down instead.

Master Reigen's face is carefully blank.

'He didn't try to hurt you in the bubble, did he?'

'I don't think he could've if he wanted to,' Mob replies honestly. 'He was overwhelmed with power and I think it... I think he was very tired.'

'Were you-' Reigen starts. He puts his hands in his pockets. 'Did you know what was going to happen once he... exploded?'

Mob's chest hurts. He wishes Master Reigen would stop talking about something which had already happened.

'I just want to understand from your perspective. I could guess, but I think it would help if we had all the facts.'

'I thought...' Mob grabs the thread tightly with one hand and tries to subtly wipe the other on his shorts. 'I don't really know. I just wanted to contain it so he couldn't hurt anyone, that's all.'

'That's very-. Very-'

He inhales. Master Reigen has an odd expression on his face again.

Then, in a frantic rush, he blurts-

'I thought you were dead, Mob. I thought you had died in that explosion. We weren't even sure if you were alive when we found you under the rubble. You were so still. You-' Master Reigen breathes unevenly. 'You didn't see how bright the blast was. Teru sensed you, but we didn't know if... you were alright.'

For a terrifying second, Mob thinks Master Reigen is going to cry. He's seen plenty of adults crying in his life; lot of Reigen's clients walked in practically already in tears. Mr Serizawa had been teary eyed as he drew his umbrella up to point at Mob's chest, heaving with something Mob recognised but could not name.

When he was very little, he had watched his mother break down sobbing on the sofa after a friend had passed. His mother had almost cried when he'd come home on that day too, blood staining his fingers, half-carrying Ritsu through the door. She hadn't, though. She'd taken his brother into the other room to bandage up his head wounds, while Mob sat silently outside, unable to make out the muffled words through the walls.

Still, somehow Master Reigen had seemed exempt from crying. His Master was emotional, yes; dramatic, undoubtedly; wily, always; but there he was groundly, relentlessly positive. Mob had always liked that about Master Reigen. It was reassuring. Master Reigen always found a way out. He always knew what to do.

Master Reigen is staring at Mob, wide eyed, like he might vanish into thin air.

'I'm not dead, though,' Mob says, quietly. 'I'm right here.'

Master Reigen makes a funny noise in the back of his throat, takes a step forward and pulls Mob tightly towards him. Mob squeaks in surprise, then slowly wraps his arms around him, burying his face in his jumper.

'Please don't do that again,' Master Reigen says over the top of his head.

'I'll try.'

'I'm so proud of you, kiddo. I don't say that enough.'

Mob's throat aches. Reigen's hand is in his hair. He closes his eyes so tightly that colours flash under the surface of his eyes.

His 'thank you' is probably obscured by Master Reigen's jumper, but Master Reigen hugs him very tightly, so Mob thinks he probably understands after all.

If a few cups float in the air for a minute, nobody seems to mind.