Work Text:
Get a job! Do something with your life! We’re not gonna be here for you forever.
Reigen Arataka is tired.
How much longer are you going to mooch off of us? We’d like to live in comfort too, ya know!
Reigen Arataka is really, really tired.
You worthless kid, I never should’ve kept you! All you’re good for is wasting our fucking money!”
Reigen Arataka is fucking exhausted.
He knows he needs a job. He knows he needs money. He knows he needs to get off his ass and start working but what in the fuck do his parents expect of him? He’s a high school graduate who failed his entrance exams for graduate school and there’s no way for him to afford to attend a university anyway. His parents may have the money to keep him stable, but that’s only due to him being thrown in some crummy apartment in the sleaziest part of town.
Reigen takes another drag of his cigarette. He sucks in slowly, savoring that awful bitter taste he’s grown so accustomed to. Reigen holds his breath for longer than he cares to keep track of. He shuts his eyes as he blows out the smoke flooding his system, ignoring the shame that washes over him with every puff and blow.
He knows he’s a disappointment to his parents. Reigen knows that he shouldn’t be begging older men and women on the street to buy him booze and cigarettes. The guilt that envelops him with every step, every waking breath, is no stranger to him. He’s dealt with scraped fists. He’s dealt with blood pooling in his mouth. He’s dealt with the shouts from his parents for far too long to be unaware of the remorse that follows him daily.
Reigen Arataka accepts that he will never amount to anything.
Throwing his cigarette to the ground, Reigen stands up from where he sits and stomps on the butt. Another piece of trash outside of his apartment complex surely won’t be noticed. He shoves his hands into his pockets and starts walking with no destination in mind. Reigen walks to forget his troubles. It never works.
The black slacks and button down shirt he has on provide little warmth and he only slightly regrets his decision to leave home in such thin clothing. For some reason the end of the year’s chill had come sooner than expected. Though, there’s no use dwelling on past decisions, so he’d just have to make do with what he wears currently. (Except there is some use. Reigen dwells every day.) He clenches his teeth and keeps walking forward, now looking for some place he can lounge in until his head is less of a thoughtless mess.
Reigen lets out a small gust of air as he steps into a convenience store. It’s small and a little bit run down, but the heating works and that’s all that matters to him. He walks around, hands still in his pocket, and browses until something looks worth buying or the management kicks him out for bumming inside. Whichever comes first.
Almost ten minutes later and he’s just about ready to go home when a poster catches his eye. Big bubbly font sticks out like a sore thumb to him, advertising a volunteer opportunity at an orphanage. There’s a picture of some children posed together, all smiling with open arms. Reigen doesn’t know why he cares so much. He puts a memo into his phone with the name, address, and phone number listed.
Reigen regrets answering his phone.
His mother nags at him on the other side of the line, pointing out how it’s been almost eight months since he’s graduated and he still doesn’t have a job. She goes on about how he hasn’t stopped by in a few weeks, saying she misses her darling son and moves on to how she’ll stop paying for his rent if he doesn’t step up his game to become independent. Top it all off with an I love you and a farewell and Reigen feels rejuvenated.
No, he still feels like shit.
It’s not even ten in the morning and he’s already being bothered by his mother. At least this forces him to get out of bed sooner, lest his thoughts fester and keep him tangled in bed for the rest of the day.
Reigen Arataka has not always been this way.
He remembers his youth fondly, full of doting parents and good grades. He’d had the full, privileged experience when it came to both his home and school life. Everything had been looking good for him, and if you told ten year old Reigen that he’d soon be living off of his parent’s paycheck in the slums he wouldn’t believe you one bit.
His aptitude for academics had changed in his second year of junior high. He’d been given an assignment asking for an essay on what he’d like to do in life. It asked for his aspirations, his dream schools, his purpose for living.
Reigen Arataka came to a standstill.
He didn’t know what he wanted to do. Nothing had caught his interest at the time, and nothing stuck out to him in future years, either. He had no dreams for a future besides yearning for a comfortable way of living, but a means of obtaining a paycheck had never passed his mind. He soon learned that choosing his career in junior high wasn’t something to be taken seriously, but it stuck with him. Studies became boring, classes unappetizing, and socializing soon became harder for him.
Reigen sighs as he wipes away the excess foam on his mouth after brushing his teeth. He really did hit rock bottom. Actually, losing financial support from his parents and being evicted would be rock bottom. But for now, this was as bad as he was willing to imagine his life becoming.
While thinking about his depressing state of living was definitely a favorite pastime, Reigen decides to push aside such thoughts in order to actually be a productive member of society. Well, as productive as he could manage to be. He steps out in his Sunday Best, the very same best he wore the day before, and heads toward the nearest recruitment agency he can find.
He’d found a scarf the day before while rummaging through his closet, but the added cloth is useless to protect him from the harsh wind that whips at his face. He figures it’s just his luck for sharp winds and below average temperatures to come through in early November. His eyes sting and his nose is starting to burn from the cold and he really wants to give up, but something catches his eye yet again.
The very same poster he saw the day before is stapled onto a pole just a few feet in front of him. It looks weathered down and torn at the edges and Reigen can’t help but wonder how long it’s been on there. He thinks about how many wandering souls have passed this very same pole, have stood in the very same spot his feet are planted in now. He finds himself thinking about how many people have passed by and ignored this sign. He thinks about how many people have skimmed it over and left. He thinks about how many people have actually considered helping out and decided not to.
Reigen Arataka has a soft heart.
He knows he needs to look for a job. He knows he should ignore the poster and keep walking towards the recruitment agency. He knows that he should be responsible and put his needs first but he finds himself entering the address into his phone’s map anyway.
There’s little to think about as he turns around and heads for the nearest bus stop. He wants to stop and reconsider and go back to job hunting but he can’t bring himself to. After eight months of looking for some sort of job, going back to the agency a week after being denied doesn’t seem very promising. Besides, it’s time to do something with his life, even if it means using his parents’ money for a while longer.
It takes almost two hours for Reigen to arrive at the orphanage. He’s dropped off at a stop a couple of blocks away and walks with the map on his phone as his guide, ignoring the rumbling of his stomach and the ache in his feet. He trudges along in solitude of the desolate neighborhood, eyeing the weariness of the houses around him. It really is quite serene, but the cold and the eeriness of it all make it difficult to bask in the serenity.
Reigen pushes off his thoughts and makes haste in heading towards the orphanage lovingly named Mercy’s Children’s Home. It’s a simple name, though it’s very vague. Pictured in Reigen’s mind was a huge five story building, like something out of the movies. A small garden would be planted in front of the building, kids tending to it while others ran around with the biggest grins he’s ever seen. Caretakers would wave and welcome him with soft smiles and comforting hands.
That, however, was not what he saw.
While the building was in okay shape, it certainly didn’t live up to any of Reigen’s expectations. A three story building with dark, peeling paint and a dried out lawn was not something he would think of when hearing the name Mercy’s Children’s Home. There’s no children to be seen as he walks on the shaky concrete steps placed haphazardly on the lawn. Each step he takes closer to the building allowes him to come up with a list of reasons for him to turn back before anyone saw him. He could still make it…
“Why hello there!”
Reigen whips his head up towards the sound, startled by the overly cheerful voice in front of him. A woman stands before him, standing on the porch just a few steps above him, hands clasped together with an overt smile on her face. The deep yellow of her dress is a heavy contrast to her bleak surroundings.
Reigen clears his throat. “Good afternoon,” he bows. Before he has the chance to stand up properly and introduce himself, the lady is stepping down off of the porch and holding onto his arm. She tugs him after her, pulling him up the porch steps and stopping just before opening the door to the building.
“You look a bit too young to be browsing around here,” she points out. “Now what would someone like you be doing at my lovely children’s home?” Her tone is snappy but the smile remains on her face nonetheless.
“O-oh, well,” Reigen clears his throat, “I happened to see a poster asking for volunteers. I was hoping to get more information on that.” Was that a good answer? Reigen hopes so.
She claps her hands together. “Now that is just fantastic,” she grins. “Please, please, come on in and I’ll talk you through the process. I’m sure you’ll be a lovely addition to this home.”
Reigen clears his throat once more and allows her to take him through the large house. As soon as he steps through the doorway, he notices just how quiet everything is. There’s no noise besides the creaking of floorboards beneath their feet. He’s not sure how orphanages are typically ran, but the silence echoing throughout doesn’t seem very fitting. Reigen feels like he might die today.
The lady, Reigen assumes she’s the head of the house, chatters on about how excited she is to welcome a new face into her home. She goes on and on about how he’ll just love the children and that they’ll love him just as much. Reigen takes note of how she doesn’t seem to mention the appearance of the house. He’s not sure if she’s insecure about it or if she just doesn’t care for the upkeep very much, but it’s hard for visitors to ignore when this place is supposed to be a safe haven for children. He’d thought that such a place would look even remotely pleasant.
Lost in his thoughts, Reigen doesn’t fully register him being sat down in a chair until the slam of a door behind him rings in his head. The feeling of a soft cushion beneath him further drags him out of his thoughts, grounding him to the room around him. There’s so much to focus on that Reigen isn’t sure where he’s expected to look. A nameplate sits on the large desk in front of him, pristine and shining in the light flowing in from the large windows to his right. Ms. Mercy. Reigen shifts in his seat. He wants to drown in the cushioning on the chair he sits in. He looks away from the nameplate and notes how bright her office looks compared to the rest of the house. Bright colors painted throughout the room on various knick knacks don’t complement the drab scene of the rest of the house. Reigen belatedly realizes that there aren’t any bright paintings or cheerful pictures outside of her office.
Ms. Mercy stares expectantly at him.
“S-sorry,” Reigen grins nervously. “I was admiring your office. It’s nicely decorated.”
“Well aren’t you sweet,” Ms. Mercy laughs. “Now, you can call me Ms. Mercy. I am the head of this household and I am the founder of this lovely establishment. Now what may I call you?”
“Ah, my name is Reigen Arataka,” he says. “I graduated from high school earlier in the year and was looking for a way to give back to my community.”
Ms. Mercy doesn’t look convinced.
“Before we dive straight into working hours, we’re going to need to discuss past experiences and any qualifications you may have.”
Oh boy.
Their talk goes on without many disruptions. Reigen finds that he can’t answer some of her questions, and she disappointingly tells him that she can’t allow him to provide service for her house without a resume of any sorts. While she did say that she could waive some of the obstacles in his way, Reigen would at least need something to show what he could be trusted to take care of.
Reigen thanks Ms. Mercy and takes his leave. As he walks out, he once again notices the absence of sound in the house, though he brushes it off and continues his walk down the porch and toward the bus stop a few blocks away. The sun beats down as he walks, though the movement of clouds and gentle gusts of wind keep him cool as he travels. However, the weather does nothing to soothe the ever-growing ache in his stomach. Reigen hopes the bus arrives soon.
Reigen Arataka does not have much experience under his belt.
Thankfully the recruitment agency he frequents has already helped him put together a resume, though he can’t help but feel like his achievements fall flat. Listed on the (quite empty) paper is a congregation of community service hours that he’s completed along with the names and numbers of the few employers he’s dealt with. There’s nothing really impressive, though; just a bunch of phone numbers of the volunteer coordinators that assigned him to picking up garbage in the streets and the information of a family convenience store he used to help out with during seasonal breaks and weekends.
As Reigen looks over his shoddy resume, he realizes he’s been more of a garbage man than anything.
There’s nothing to be done about that any time soon. Reigen lets out a resigned sigh and grabs one of the few copies of his resume he was given. He finds a folder and tucks it away, along with a few bills amounting to 5,000 yen. He’s never dealt with volunteering fees before but surely this would suffice. He just hopes Ms. Mercy was truthful in the information she gave him, because he can barely afford the minimum fee as is.
He really needs a job.
“Reigen-kun! What a pleasant surprise to see you back so soon,” Ms. Mercy calls out. She stands on the porch of the children’s home, hands clasped together in front of her. She wears yet another bright dress, though this one is neon pink. Reigen thinks she just likes to stand out.
“Good afternoon, Mercy-san.” Reigen ducks his head down in place of a bow.
“Oh please, call me Ms. Mercy,” she smiles. It looks forced. “I insist.” Reigen keeps that in mind.
He’d never actually said her name before, but thinking it and speaking it are two different things apparently. “My apologies, M-Ms. Mercy,” he stumbles. The use of English in his vocabulary is few and far between, so adding the title before her name gives him a bit of a struggle as he focuses on pronouncing both her title and name correctly. Reigen doesn’t think he’s going to address her very often.
“Oh, it’s no problem sweetie,” she says. Her smile looks less forced and her tone more friendly, but Reigen can’t help but be on edge. “I assume you’re here to discuss your resume and working days? Well, if everything is in top condition, that is.”
Reigen nods and lets himself be led away to her office once more. Her loquacious nature seems to be the only part of her that’s not forced in some way. Praises about her home and words of thanks spill easily from her mouth, filling the silence that permeates around them.
Reigen notices she closes her office door a bit harder than necessary.
“Now, Reigen-kun,” she says, clasping her hands together on her desk. “I try to keep my children’s home as legal as possible, for the sake of the young ones, though with our staffing issues I’m not sure how much longer I can uphold that. You understand, don’t you?” Reigen nods. “That’s good. I’m glad there won’t be any issues between us.” She gives a smile, though it comes off as more daring and creepy than welcoming.
“Of course,” Reigen agrees. “I would like to help out however possible.”
“Perfect, perfect.” Ms. Mercy ducks down to dig through her drawers, going through folder after folder to find the applications she keeps in her desk. She sits back up with a stack of papers in hand and places them on the table. “And if you don’t mind, I’m going to need to see what you’ve brought for me today.”
Reigen places the folder he brought on the desk alongside the papers. He listens on carefully as Ms. Mercy describes the application process, talking him through background checks and how they get in touch with past employers. She moves on to discuss agreements for the children's’ safety, including regulations on direct contact with the children and the minimum amount of time Reigen can spend volunteering.
“There’s a minimum?” Reigen asks.
“Of course,” Ms. Mercy nods. “In order to not have caretakers arrive and leave so soon, we have a time frame for each volunteer. We put a minimum amount of time in place as well as a maximum that is agreed on. Six months is usually the least amount of time here we allow, though with your skills I think you’d be good with four months to start off with? You wouldn’t have so much contact with the children, so two months less shouldn’t be a problem.”
Reigen nods for what feels like the millionth time today. He’s not sure he can handle six months of work. Yeah, he’s hard working, but he’s not sure if he’s that dedicated. Besides, he could always add on time should he have the desire to continue providing service.
“How wonderful,” she beams. “All that’s left is for you to sign a few waivers and the like along with handing in your application fee, and you’re good to go.” She places her hands on the desk, palms up, almost as if she’s just waiting for him to hand over his savings.
“I have a question,” Reigen speaks up. “Is the application fee really necessary?”
“Absolutely,” Ms. Mercy says, brows furrowed and voice stern. “We need to be sure you’re serious about joining my home. It also helps us while we’re short staffed. I would hate to see my children go through more hardships than necessary.” She purses her lips slightly, eyes downcast and posture solemn as she looks at Reigen.
“I see,” Reigen mutters. If he doesn’t even know what an application fee is for, then maybe there’s more to the world he doesn’t know. He takes note that maybe he should start questioning things around him.
He ends up signing the last of the papers that need to be filled out, thanks Ms. Mercy, and walks back out towards the bus stop.
Reigen Arataka wants to be a better person.
It’s been almost two weeks since he’s been to Ms. Mercy’s Children’s Home to sign up and be approved for volunteering, and he has yet to hear back from anyone. His mother still calls and berates him for still being unemployed, he still does nothing all day long but clean and take care of what little houseplants he has, life still goes on. Time moves forward and yet it feels like it drags on and on with every passing minute without hearing back from Ms. Mercy.
Maybe he really did make a mistake by heading out and trying to dedicate his time to something other than finding a career. Maybe he really is just some dumb, immature kid who needs to grow up and get his life together. Maybe his mother is right. Maybe he really isn’t meant to do anything great.
Reigen Arataka is ready to give up.
Reigen’s phone rings, letting out a loud chime that rings throughout the whole house, bouncing from wall to wall until he answers the call. It rings and rings and rings and Reigen finds that he doesn’t want to make the trek from his futon to the coffee table a few feet away. He really is just some lazy kid.
He sits up with a sigh and crawls toward the phone, ready to let it end the call on its own when he sees a familiar set of numbers. He’s not sure who it is, but his curiosity to discover who it really is wins out in the end.
“Hello?”
“Hello, this is Ms. Mercy from Ms. Mercy’s Children’s Home. I am looking for Reigen Arataka, is he there?”
“Yes,” he nods. “You’re speaking to him.” He can’t help the smile that begins to creep onto his face.
"Good Afternoon, Arataka-kun! I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time. I just wanted to say that your volunteering application has been approved!”
“That’s great,” Reigen breathes out. “What needs to be done now?”
"You’ll need to attend an orientation ceremony along with a couple of other volunteers, and we’ll give you a few hours of training for what you’ll be assigned to. After that, we’ll work out your hours and you’ll be ready to work.”
He thanks Ms. Mercy over and over again after confirming the orientation date and flops back onto his futon.
Reigen Arataka is finally looking forward to something.
He finally has something to do with himself. Granted, it’s not a job, but maybe this will be the push he needs to getting his life in order. Maybe this will be his big break and he’ll find something he can do as a solid career. Hopefully this volunteer work would get him into a working mindset. He’s not going to live off of his parents’ charity forever.
He’s finally on his way to success.
As it turns out, success is not as close as he would have thought.
His orientation had went without a hitch. Reigen had been told to go to some professional looking building and find the room that had been rented for the day so everyone could get to know each other and familiarize themselves with what their assigned positions. Reigen thought he would get something a bit more glamorous, but with his resume he isn’t sure why he expected to have something better.
Reigen is a custodian.
He knows he shouldn’t be upset with his assignment, but he can’t help the disappointment that surrounds him. Every other person had been given much cooler jobs like being a chef or a home assessor. Hell, even being something boring like a secretary to the home’s treasurer would’ve been better. The only thought that alleviates his discontent is the knowledge that another person was assigned to janitorial duties as well. A man a few years older than him with unkempt hair and a scruffy beard would be working alongside him, though Reigen was told that they wouldn’t get to interact much. What a shame.
He finds that there’s no time to complain as the instructors go through each usual cleaning supply they use and give instructions on how to deal with certain messes. Reigen makes sure to listen intently.
There’s not much to do in the orphanage. Ms. Mercy keeps a tight leash on the kids (“For their safety,” she says.) and doesn’t like for them to cause too much damage. Reigen isn’t sold on the thought of the children being kept in their rooms for most of the day, but Ms. Mercy assures him they have plenty to do in their rooms so there’s no need to worry. Reigen also isn’t sold on that either due to the low noise level around the house, but he keeps his mouth shut. He doesn’t want to make her upset, at least not this early into working for her.
He’s arranged to work every weekend and on every other Wednesday. He’s not too bothered about having to work weekends since he doesn’t have a job, but on the off chance a friend from high school wants to meet up with him, he’s forced to decline due to their clashing schedules. He’s only gotten one invitation in the three weeks he’s been working for Ms. Mercy, but he finds the thought of declining someone to be upsetting.
Reigen Arataka does not have many friends.
It’s a lonely life, but he doesn’t mind. Now he has something that gets him to sleep at night, something that helps him wake up in the morning. He’s yet to tell his parents that he’s started volunteering somewhere instead of job hunting, but he’s sure they won’t be too angry. Probably. Oh well.
He hums to himself as he mops the kitchen floor, swaying with the music in his head as he steps around the spots he’s already mopped in fear of slipping. The silence is deafening, so he tries to do whatever he can to occupy the empty space. Ms. Mercy doesn’t allow him to sing, nor does she want him using earbuds in case he begins to slack off, but she does permit him to hum to himself. He’s not sure what he’d do in the quiet of the house for four months.
Things continue to move smoothly. He struggles to find work on his off days, receives the same phone calls from his mother, cleans the children’s home over and over again, and watches as the children pass by through their scheduled lives. He feels a bit like he’s stuck in some sort of limbo, watching the same things repeat again and again. Reigen doesn’t think Ms. Mercy does a very good job at running her children’s home.
Reigen Arataka notices things.
He sees how the children keep their heads down whenever they’re around an adult. He sees how they form their own cliques whenever they’re allowed time to roam around the house. He sees how they walk and talk whenever they have supervision and he especially sees how they act when they think nobody's looking.
Seven weeks have passed and he’s all too familiar with the sneering looks the older children have on their faces whenever they’re alone. They walk with their heads just a bit higher, stride just a touch longer, roll up their sleeves more than necessary. They walk around with a purpose, but Reigen knows it’s all a lie. He knows they just want a spot in the world, but this is all they’ll ever get. Reigen feels bad for them.
However, he can’t bring himself to feel pity for them as they tower over the younger kids. He feels anger and disgust coil up in his belly whenever they push around an elementary kid. He finds himself not caring for the high schoolers as they throw punches at the middle schoolers. He begins to keep a closer eye on the young ones.
Reigen notes that he begins taking an interest in one of the younger children. He’s small, can’t be older than five years old, and he keeps to himself. He follows instructions well and moves with the crowd, but his choppy bowl cut makes him easy to find in the travelling commotion.
Being separated from the rest of the children during free time also makes him easy to find.
“Hey, what’s up with that kid?” Reigen asks one day. He stops wiping the kitchen island and looks toward the other volunteer, a chef he didn’t bother to learn the name of.
“Which one, there’s like a million here,” she huffs.
“That one,” Reigens gestures with his chin. “Bowlcut. The one who’s all alone.”
“Oh, you mean the psychic.” She spits the last word out like it’s fire on her tongue.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Reigen asks. He’s not sure if he’s wondering why she said that with such a tone or if he’s seriously considering the existence of psychics.
“His parents left him cause they couldn’t deal with him,” she rolls her eyes. “Apparently having a psychic is a lot harder than people make it out to be. I don’t blame ‘em. I wouldn’t want him in my house either.”
“How long has he been here?”
“Supposedly since he was an infant,” she shrugs, fire forgotten. “Nobody’s been by to look him over either. Not really unexpected, though.”
“Do people not like psychics?” Reigen wonders aloud.
“Sure, when they’re older and easy to control,” she says, “but not when they’re children. They’ve got no focus. They’re especially the worst when they’re teenagers.”
Reigen nods to himself.
He keeps a close eye on the boy, listening in on the few conversations he’s had with the other kids. Reigen learns that his name is Shigeo, he’s five years old, and he doesn’t seem to have any friends. Every once in awhile he’d be seen talking to himself, but Reigen assumes it’s normal for a lonely child to talk aloud to himself or to an imaginary friend. He hopes it’s normal.
Reigen feels helpless as he watches the older children pick countless fights with Shigeo. There’s not much to be accomplished since Shigeo provides little reactions to the bullying, but Reigen feels his stomach churn nonetheless.
Reigen sees the children cry. They hide in corners of the house, sneak under tablecloths, lock themselves in the bathrooms. He hears them sniffle and hiccup in the quiet of the house as their muffled sobs break through their hands pressed against their mouth. Their eyes are puffy and red and sunken in and Reigen wants to bawl at the sight of them. He’d once thought that these children’s homes were nothing short of a sanctuary, but he isn’t so sure anymore.
Shigeo doesn’t cry.
Three months in and Reigen wants to try and speak up. Not to Ms. Mercy, no, that wouldn’t do anything. He sees how the children cower and back away even when her name comes up. He wants to talk to one of the children. He knows he’s not supposed to. He knows it’s pretty much illegal for him to bump into one of them accidentally. He still wants to try.
Though, it’s a lot harder than he once thought. The children go on with their day, ignoring the janitor of the house, and don’t attempt to approach him when he beckons. Either they’re really suspicious or Ms. Mercy has rules implemented for such an occasion. Reigen wouldn’t doubt their reasons.
As expected, Shigeo doesn’t listen, either. He stares up at Reigen with those bored, lifeless eyes of his and does nothing more than shake his head. He looks to the right of his shoulders and mumbles something before shaking his head once again. More than once, Reigen watches as he runs away.
The next month passes by in a blur. Reigen does his job and watches Shigeo go throughout his day. He scrubs and scratches at the buildup of grime until there’s none to be seen in his area. He cleans and cleans and tries to stop wondering about Shigeo. He forces himself to drown his thoughts with the scent of bleach and air freshener. Reigen wills himself to stop looking in Shigeo’s direction whenever he’s alone and spends the rest of his time in solitude, denying himself of those sneaking glances toward the child that he craves.
He wants to do something. He wants change.
Reigen Arataka does not take most things seriously.
It comes as a passing thought one day, not even a week after he’s relieved on his volunteer duties.
Maybe he should look into adoption.
He knows that he has no business trying to raise a kid since he can’t even keep himself stable, but the idea begins to grow on him as the days pass. He knows that he’s not going to do anything spectacular with his life. He (unfortunately) knows that no girl is going to want to tie him down. Maybe looking after a child is another step towards being an actual, working human.
Reigen knows he shouldn’t toy around with such a serious thought, but that doesn’t stop him from thinking about it during those sleepless nights.
Reigen Arataka thinks of Shigeo.
He doesn’t consider himself to be a serious person, not at such a young age, but Reigen can feel himself begin to mature. He focuses on his skills, aims for things he can actually manage with ease, starts thinking realistically. Reigen stops making excuses for himself and does something for a change.
He wants to bring Shigeo home.
That isn’t the change he should be focused on, that’s something he knows, but it’s also something he feels he needs to do. It’s not his purpose in life to be a father, he’s not sure he has a purpose at all, but it feels right. It’s something he wants to do.
Reigen Arataka gives in to his desires.
He goes to the convenience store he frequents and begs for a job. He gets on his knees, bows his head until it touches the floor, and loudly states how he’ll agree to any wages. He stays that way for just less than two minutes as the store owner thinks about his offer.
He’s handed an application and gets kicked out of the store with an “I’ll think about it.” He walks back home with his head held high.
He gets a phone call a week later, telling him they’ll skip the interview and give him the job. He feels his chest swell with pride and happiness as the owner mumbles about how he’s only being lenient because Reigen is still so young. Reigen thanks him over and over again until he receives a threat of being fired if he doesn’t shut his mouth.
Reigen calls his mom later that night.
It comes as a shock to him on a bright, sunny day in late August.
Reigen walks home from the convenience store, arms heavy and legs aching as he trudges along to his apartment. He spots a group of people further down the street, a few blocks away from his apartment, some with signs and others with hands cupped around their mouths. He’s going over the pros and cons of seeming like an asshole by crossing the street when one of them turns to face him.
“Bodies aren’t commodities! End child trafficking!”
Reigen wishes he crossed the street.
“Excuse me, sir,” a girl calls out. She walks up to him, eyes passionate and hands terse as she grips the clipboard in her hand. Reigen looks behind him to try and pin the conversation on someone else, but to no avail. “Are you aware of what goes on in orphanages in Japan?”
Reigen furrows his brows. “Excuse me?”
“If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to discuss the illegal actions taken by orphanages worldwide,” she says. She flips some of the papers on her clipboard without waiting for approval and begins to read out simplified versions of the many, many sentences on her paper. “While we are unable to take effect outside of our precinct, our charity has gathered today to raise awareness about the human trafficking of children in orphanages.”
“Trafficking?” Reigen repeats. “Like, sexual trafficking?”
“Oh, no sir,” she shakes her head. “That is something that occurs, but we are also focused on other forms. The selling and disappearance of children for illegal labor and debt bondage are two other forms of trafficking, though those are only the most common.”
Reigen furrows his brows further.
“We’re here to ask for donations to aid us in our mission to prevent and shut down the trafficking of orphaned children,” she continues. “The amount of lives that have been taken from these illegal actions are far too many, and we ask for anything that you are able to give.”
“I have to go,” Reigen says.
“Sir?”
“I’m sorry, I really need to go,” he repeats. He brings out his wallet and takes out a 1000 yen bill and hastily hands it to her. “Please excuse me.”
“O-oh, thank you!” she calls after him.
Reigen runs for the first time in months.
As it turns out, Ms. Mercy’s website didn’t have a list of children available like he thought. It was a pretty stupid idea, now that he thinks about it, but now there’s also no way of knowing if Shigeo was still in the children’s home.
Reigen paces back and forth in front of his dingy laptop.
He doesn’t want to rush this. He wants to take his time and do everything right and make sure he doesn’t mess up even the smallest detail but he’s stressed. He desperately hopes Shigeo is still (moderately) safe in Ms. Mercy’s custody. He hopes the demand for child psychics on the black market isn’t high.
Reigen Arataka pushes himself harder.
While the 1500 yen per hour is definitely a paycheck he enjoys, Reigen looks online for another job. If he wants to bring Shigeo home as soon as possible he’ll need to gather his savings in order to be presentable. That, and he’ll also need some money in order to pay for the services of an adoption agency.
Reigen sighs to himself.
He scrolls through job after job until he sees an opening for a clothing store. It pays 1000 yen an hour, starting off with 10 hours a week, and while it isn’t anything special he still allows himself to apply for it. He goes through more job offers, applies at other convenience stores, and ends his search after emailing his resume to six companies.
Reigen really doesn’t want to work day and night shifts.
“I just don’t see why we should keep paying your rent when you’ve got a job,” his mother scoffs. "When are we going to be able to relax and save up for retirement?”
“Please, just a few more months,” Reigen pleads. “I’m saving up for… a project. I promise I’ll tell you what it is soon, but for now I could really use this support, ma.”
A sigh. ”Okay, but only because you’ve been doing so well. No more than six months, though.”
There comes a point in one’s life where they wonder if their life is truly fulfilling. They ponder over past decisions and reflect on what got them to where they are today. They think about making their life more satisfying.
Reigen wishes he could do that.
The change he wants, though, is not one that can be fixed by using a new lotion or getting a different haircut. The change he fancies is one that is attained after months and months of hard work.
Reigen Arataka begins to doubt himself.
He’s not entirely sure he can handle taking care of a child. A literal, physical, child. He doesn’t want to mess up someone else’s life.
Though, as he thinks about it, his life isn’t all that bad.
Reigen pushes aside his doubt and works toward his end goal once more.
He works and works and works and manages to save up a considerable amount of money. It should definitely be enough to hire a case manager. Both his night and day jobs brought in a significant amount of money, more so his night job after being promoted from a lousy custodian to assistant manager.
Sometime in February Reigen calls his parents and tells them they don’t need to help him with his rent anymore.
In early march he heads toward an adoption agency and hires a case manager to approve him for the process.
Reigen Arataka is finally becoming somebody.
Reigen ends up having to renovate his house.
Since he’d barely turned twenty years old the year before, his case manager had explained that being the minimum age for adopting would likely make it more difficult to be assigned to a child. His manager had stated that since he was also living in a less desirable part of town that he’d have to upgrade his home security. “The house needs to be in acceptable condition for a homestudy,” he’d said.
His futon gets set up in the smaller room in his apartment, just bigger than what could be considered a walk in closet, in his mind. He decides to splurge and brings in a bed frame for a twin sized mattress, wanting to give the image that he really was serious about bringing a child home. He was, but the agency wouldn’t know that.
He attends several meetings and orientations on child care in order to prepare himself for raising another human being. His caseworker tells him he can relax a bit. Reigen doesn’t want to.
It takes six months for his case worker to get in touch with Ms. Mercy’s Children’s Home. He gets in touch with a social worker and conducts many homestudies, some that include home inspections and others that have him detail his life and information about himself.
It takes another month for him to get his legal documents in order. Birth certificate, financial records, medical reports, a criminal check, and even a child abuse clearance are gotten in order. Reigen doesn’t know if it’s luck or him being a decent human being that allows him to provide clean reports, but he really doesn’t care.
Reigen spends his twenty-first birthday buying room decorations.
Reigen Arataka is not picky.
However, as he sits before his case worker and an agent from the children’s home, he finds himself using words that he knew described Shigeo. Reigen knows he’s more likely to win a million dollar lottery rather than be assigned to Shigeo, but he hopes nonetheless.
He says that he would prefer raising a boy over a girl. He wants a child that’s around seven to eight years old. He would prefer someone who was quiet, timid, and didn’t cause too much trouble.
Two weeks later, some time in February before his twenty-second birthday, he’s given folders of possible children he can be matched up with. He looks through case after case, reading through the short descriptions provided of each child. As he nears the end of his search he can feel himself lose faith the longer this process goes on. He hopes that Shigeo is still safe somewhere, no matter if he’s at another home or if he simply wasn’t meant to be with Reigen.
Reigen Arataka is a lucky man.
There, towards the end of the pile, sits a folder with the name Kageyama Shigeo. His eyes widen, his breathing stops, and he carefully picks up the folder. He opens it, just to confirm it’s the Shigeo he’s been searching for.
Reigen wants to cry.
He’s been drawn to this boy ever since he first learned about his quiet nature. Weeks of observing, watching him grow little by little, finally lead up to this moment in time. He keeps his emotions in check as much as he can and looks up with the most manageable smile he can hold.
“I think he would be a perfect match for me,” Reigen says.
At first they tell him to reconsider. They reveal Shigeo’s psychic nature to dissuade him from choosing the boy. They wouldn’t want to wreak havoc onto a newcomer. Reigen keeps his decision, and since neither are qualified to decide how a psychic should be raised, he’s able to work towards adopting Shigeo.
They go through more paperwork, signing legal contracts and setting up meeting times to test Shigeo’s compatibility with Reigen’s personality and home, and then he’s off. He’s sent away with promises of (yet another) home study in a couple of weeks, the day before Shigeo would arrive.
“He’s coming? For real?” Reigen asks.
“This is what you’ve been working towards,” his case worker huffs. “Of course he’s coming.”
Reigen Arataka feels happiness for the first time in years.
“Hello, Shigeo-kun,” Reigen smiles. He squats down and sits on the balls of his feet, eye to eye with Shigeo. “My name is Reigen Arataka, but you can call me Arataka if you want.”
Shigeo stares at him.
“Arataka-san wants to spend some time with you,” the social worker says. “Do you think that’d be okay?”
Shigeo turns his head to the right and stares at the wall for a few seconds before turning back to Reigen. He nods.
“Is there anything you’d like to do?” Reigen asks. “We can watch a movie, or we can play with some toys. I have some coloring books if you wanna do that, too.”
“Movie,” Shigeo mumbles. He looks to the right again and fiddles with the hem of his shirt.
Reigen brings out his laptop and drags his coffee table from across the room, placing it a couple of feet in front of his small, worn out couch. The social worker and caseworker move towards the dining area as they watch Reigen move furniture around and look for a child appropriate movie.
“Okay, everything’s ready,” Reigen grins. “Do you want any snacks?”
Shigeo nods. “Milk.”
Reigen doesn’t know what to do.
Shigeo sits on the floor in front of him, eyes focused on the screen in front of him, cupping his (now empty) glass of milk in his lap. He stares forward, still void of any emotion, and watches with earnest, drinking in every line of dialogue and shift of the scene.
It’s been an hour since they started the movie and Reigen can feel two pairs of eyes staring at him. He probably shouldn’t have suggested a movie in order to get to know Shigeo more, but he didn’t really know what else to suggest. They’d have more dates together so it’s no big deal, but he doesn’t want Shigeo to feel like Reigen doesn’t like him.
Reigen holds his breath and threads his fingers through Shigeo’s hair. The boy stiffens beneath him, back straight and shoulders hunched. Reigen runs his fingers through his thick hair for a few seconds, ready to pull away at a moment’s notice, but he lets out a quiet sigh as Shigeo relaxes beneath him. His shoulders lower and his head leans back just slightly, welcoming the touch as Reigen acquaints himself with the coarse texture of his hair.
After that, Shigeo begins to ask questions about Reigen and the movie.
“Arataka-san, do you like her?” Shigeo asks.
“Who, the superhero?” Shigeo nods. “Yeah, I think she’s nice. It would be really cool to save a lot of people like her, but you also have to be selfless and brave in order to do it.” Shigeo nods. “Do you like her?”
“Yeah,” he says. “She’s really strong.”
“Do you want to be strong, Shigeo?”
“Yeah.”
“Me too.”
“I think things are looking good, Reigen-san,” his caseworker says. “Things are moving pretty smoothly.”
“You think so?” Reigen wonders.
“I’ve heard that Shigeo loves to talk about you,” he laughs. “Quite the chatterbox when it comes to you.”
“So he likes me?” Reigen asks.
A nod.
“So this means that I have a chance at adopting him, right? Right?” Reigen beams with excitement. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since he’s felt this way.
“It’s already been two months since your first meeting with Shigeo, of course you have a chance. Word has it that you’ll get to bring him home by August.”
Reigen’s caseworker handles the rest of the adoption process with ease. They talk about how Shigeo will be monitored for the first two years to ensure he’s comfortable in his new home. After asking Shigeo countless times on what he would prefer, they get his last name changed from Kageyama to Reigen. Not long after, they move what little belongings he owns from the children’s home to Reigen’s apartment, and sure enough, by the end of August, Reigen can officially say that he has a son to look after.
Reigen Arataka is content.