Chapter Text
Reigen tripped over the small bundle that was huddling in the corner of his doorframe, and when he looked back to see exactly what someone had put down there he saw a small boy looking up at him with tear stained eyes. The boy’s eyes were so red and puffy he knew the tears weren't just from being tripped over. Reigen popped up his umbrella and held it over the both of them before they both caught a cold.
Reigen hadn't noticed how dry the boy was despite the onslaught of tears from above.
“Why are here, boy?” Reigen asked softly, “You be at home - with your parents… Especially in this weather…”
The boy’s bottom lip trembled but the boy held back his tears. He looked away from Reigen as he struggled to keep his composure.
Reigen noticed the odd behavior and he glanced over his shoulder - he had been headed out for a night of drinking with the few friends he had kept in contact with from high school. He looked down at the boy, and he pulled his keys back out of his pocket, “Let's get out of the rain, kid. I think I might still have a can of soup in the office as well…”
The boy nodded and he followed Reigen in and up the stairs to the man’s office.
Mob was twitching in his seat, staring at his hands, struggling to keep back his tears and so much more as the man prepped the - soup he had mentioned earlier. Mob glanced up and he took a moment to watch the man he had shared his umbrella with him. He raised a hand in victory as the he opened the can without a proper can opener. Now he was looking around madly for a way to heat up the soup, “I forgot I don’t have a microwave…” The man mumbled.
Mob looked at the can for a moment and the man glanced towards the can. Mob quickly looked away, and the man shrugged before pulling out an electric kettle.
Mob was shaking. He swallowed and he stared at his hands. He didn't hear the man trying to talk to him. He heard the wind and windows crashing. He felt the energy crackling around him, and the fear shook his chair.
The kettle screamed, and so did Mob as he tumbled back out of his chair.
The man quickly unplugged the kettle so it would stop and he rushed over to Mob’s side.
Mob screamed again and he held up hands towards the figure that was charging towards him. The man went flying backwards.
He looked up at Mob from his new spot on the floor pressed up against the wall. Mob couldnt stop the tears now, “I’m sorry,” He whispered as he fervently pushed away his tears, “I’m sorry.”
“Kid…” The man whispered softly. He sat there and watched the boy as he slowly shut his emotions down one at a time.
The boy’s arms fell to his side and the man slowly slide over to Mob’s side, “What happened?” He asked softly.
Mob looked at him with a face that held not an echo of the fear, sadness, or shame that had fill the room just a moment ago, “I dont know what your talking about, Mister.” He answered with a monotone voice a child should never use.
The man pulled him close, and he wrapped the boy up in his arms, “It’s okay to cry.” He told Mob.
Mob was a limp form in the man’s arms. He could see the bruise forming on the man’s neck, “No,” Mob whispered. “It’s not.”
The man froze, Mob could feel the man stiffen up for a brief moment before he pulled back from Mob, held the boy by his arms and waited until Mob to looked him in the eyes. It was a wait well worth it, “What happened?” He asked the boy in his arms softly.
“They took him. My parents didn't wake up. They can’t wake up.” Mob answered softly. His gaze trapped in the concern that was washing over him.
The man pulled him close again and stood up with Mob in his arms. He picked the chair back up, and he set Mob back down in it, “Let me finish the soup - Do you have a name, kid?”
Mob nodded, “Shigeo though Ritsu would always call me mop.” He fiddled with his hair, “So mom and dad,” His voice choked up for a moment, “Started calling me Mob as well.”
The man raised an eyebrow at that name, but he nodded, “What do you want me to call you?”
“Mob,” The boy admitted.
“It is a pleasure to met you, Mob,” The man said as he slid the bowl of soup in front of Mob, “You can call me Reigen.”
The con man didn't know how he ended up watching the kid at his office for the night but it had been too late to take the boy out. Especially with what the boy had told him. He hadn't asked past that one line, and he wasn't sure about taking the boy out now.
That was why he was now knocking on his neighbor’s apartment door. He had taken the risk to take Mob out of the office, but the morning news hadn't mentioned a double murder or kidnapping so he couldn't take the boy with him to the station. It would mean more smooth talking on his end to find out about the boy’s case, but it was better then putting the boy in danger.
“Ah, Reigen-sensei,” His neighbor said as he opened the door, “I am keeping to the training training regimen you helped me plan.”
“Keeping the air conditioning off?” Reigen asked to confirm the part he knew Saitama had been struggling with the most if his neighbor had mentioned that before pointing out that there was a child holding Reigen’s hand.
“Yep,” Saitama’s eyes dripped down to notice the small child with a bowl cut, “Ah, Reigen-sensei, there is a child holding your hand.”
“I’ll pay for your air conditioning today for you if you can watch over him for me.”
“Deal.”
“Thanks,” Reigen said with a small smile tickling the corners of his lips, “It’s a burden off my shoulders knowing I am leaving him with a hero like yourself, Saitama.”
Saitama shrugged and he looked down at the boy, “What's your name, kid?”
“Mob,” He answered pulling closer to Reigen’s leg.
Reigen struggled to pull his hand out of Mob’s. The kid was a puzzle to him - he had no idea how the kid could do half of the things he did. And he was certain a child of Mob’s age shouldn't have are grip like this. Even if he wasn't certain of Mob’s age. He had asked but it was hardly informative when Mob had held up three while answering aloud that he was five.
Saitama bent down to Mob’s level, “Did Reigen-sensei remember breakfast before coming over?” He asked
Mob shook his head. Traitor, Reigen thought, You inhaled your milk- Oh. This kid was a con artists in the making. Reigen frowned at the thought but neither of the other two boys noticed.
“I have some cereal,” Saitama told him casually, “It was on sale at the supermarket. I can pour some milk on it-” Mob let go of Reigen’s hand and took a step forward before glancing back at Reigen.
Reigen nodded, “I’ll be back,” He answered, “I live right next door don't worry.”
“So you’re going home?” Mob asked.
Reigen shook his head, “No, but I need you to stay with my friend - Saitama - for a little while while I run a couple of errands that I can't take with me to do.” Saitama raised an eyebrow at Reigen, stood, and Mob, after a quick nod of understanding, slid right by Saitama and into the apartment.
Saitama leaned on the doorframe with his arms crossed, “So, Reigen-sensei, What's the kid’s story?”
“I don't know,” Reigen admitted, “He showed up on my doorstep last night… And there’s a reason I am glad I am leaving him with a hero like yourself. Even if you are just in training.”
This caused Saitama to straighten up, “So you really have no idea what happened?”
Reigen sighed, “He wasn't really in a state to talk about it last night,” He admitted, “But he mentioned something about someone being taken - and that he knew his parents couldn't wake up.”
“I’ll keep him safe while you’re out. I presume you're following up on this?”
“You would think a double homicide and two missing children would make the news.”
Saitama nodded, “With your silver tongue,” Saitama whispered as his hand settled on the door handle, “You’ll be able to handle anything you come across.”
Reigen watched Saitama close the door, and he snorted. He swallowed. This felt like it was going to be just a little bit bigger and deeper of a mess then he could really handle with just his smooth talking skills.
He rubbed the back of his head as he strolled away from the safest apartment he knew. That was no way to be thinking. He could handle anything any adult he knew could throw his way, and doubted that that would ever change.
His act as a news reporter had yielded nothing about the mystery behind how Mob had appeared on his doorstep - only reassured the fact that it was indeed being covered up by someone higher up in the food chain, but he did find a lead about a hero agency that was starting up - and maybe someone there could answer his questions about Mob’s abilities.
And the brat the agency had pointed him to refused to have a proper conversation with him once she found out the psychic was half her age. She had only come into her abilities once she had hit puberty. There was no way one of Mob’s age could have such abilities.
He didn't push the girl. She was a sassy child and even his silver tongue couldn't work on beings as irrational as those.
Mob was sitting in front of the TV as Saitama lead Reigen into the living room, “I am not paying for that as well.” Reigen told his peer as he pointed at the screen.
Saitama shrugged, “It was on the news,” He admitted, “It’s not like they have a superhero network. I have to find out where to go somehow after all.”
Reigen stared at Saitama for a moment, and then he thought of the child he met. It wasn't worth referring him over there. Not now while the agency had only a handful of members. She would end up physically hurting his fluffy headed friend, “Ah. That makes sense.” Was all he said in response. Saitama would hear about the agency soon enough anyways, Reigen reassured himself, It was doubtlessly going to get big enough that such an avid news watcher couldn't miss it, “Did anything happen while I was gone?”
Saitama shrugged, “Mob picked me up with his mind. Nothing else much happened.”
“And that was nothing much to you as well?” Reigen sputtered.
Saitama stared at Reigen. He should have known better then to ask that question. This was a man that had decided to become a superhero after stopping a lobster man with drawn on nimples from killing a kid in a playground without even so much as blinking an eye at the absurdity of the scenario. “Thanks for watching the kid,” Reigen answered the stare, “You still need to go on your run today right?”
Saitama nodded, “You can pay me when I get back.” He waved at Reigen as he slid back to the door. A cold sweat covered the man’s forehead. Reigen smirked as Saitama called from behind the now closing door, “Go ahead and lock the door behind you.”
Reigen snickered, “What's funny?” Mob asked innocently looking over at Reigen from his spot on Saitama’s futon.
“Nothing much,” He answered, “Saitama just forgot something.”
“Ah,” Mob answered still confused by the joke, “Why is that funny?”
Reigen smirked at the child, “How was your day?” He asked.
Mob hadn't been the most expressive child since last night - outside of his odd reaction to milk - so it had been oddly heartwarming to see the faint smile on Mob’s lips as he rubbed his noise and whispered his answer, “Saitama-Nissan is the best.”
Suddenly Reigen completely understood how Saitama had forgotten about the training regimen held been performing for the last year straight. Reigen smiled at Mob, “I got more milk so you could have some to go with your dinner,” Reigen said burying his hands into his pockets, “I mean, presuming you want to come over to my apartment for dinner that is.”
Mob’s smile grew far more pronounced at that thought, “Thanks you, Reigen-Sensei!”
Reigen raised an eyebrow at that, “Sensei?”
“Isn't that what Saitama calls you? I thought if you were a sensei for you that meant you were a sensei for me too?”
Reigen shrugged. He didn't have the heart to break the boy’s bubble that Saitama only called him that because he’d started off as the man’s physical fitness trainer. He was a private detective now for a reason, and Saitama had a habit of just knowing exactly what to do unintentionally to get under their skin. Luckily, Reigen had only thick skin, and Saitama hadn’t even noticed that he was still using that honorific, “Not this time, kid.” Reigen answered after a moment’s pause, “You can use whatever you want but that.”
Mob nodded, and he followed Reigen out the simple, quiet apartment and into the one that was right next door.
Dinner was quiet but as Mob and Reigen got to the last few bites of it, Reigen opened his mouth, “Do you have any family?” He asked, “In the area?”
Mob looked up at Reigen, “Reigen-Nissan, I told you last night…”
Reigen stared at the boy and his eyes slowly widened at the realization, “No, I meant any aunts or uncles? Any one to take care of you?”
Mob set down his chopsticks and he looked up at Reigen, “Don't I have you?”
Reigen smiled softly at the boy, “Yeah,” He whispered softly, “You do.”
So Reigen pulled out a spare futon for Mob to sleep on. He also heard a muffled scream from the room next door. Reigen rolled his eyes. Saitama was hardly a boring neighbor to have. Mob stared at Reigen as he started to tremble, “Is Saitama-Nissan okay?” He asked.
“Yes,” Reigen answered without missing a beat.
“But don't people only scream when they’re in trouble?”
“Yep.”
“Shouldn't we go check on him?”
“Nope.”
“... Do you think something might have happened to his milk?”
Reigen stared at Mob, “You left him milk?”
Mob’s cheeks turned a bright red, “He insisted that if I didn't drink it all today then the supermarket would get him some more tomorrow when it was on sale…”
Reigen went back to the prepping the futon, “Of course he did.” Reigen grumbled, “Surprised he managed to -” Reigen bolted straight up back on his feet, and he knew he had to do something. He headed straight to Saitama’s apartment.
“Reigen-Nissan-?” Mob muttered as Reigen darted out of the room.
Reigen pounced on Saitama’s door. He listened to the shuffle behind the door, and the moment the door started swinging open so did Reigen’s mouth, “Which supermarket has - Oh, What on earth happened to your hair?!” Reigen could see his reflection on the chrome dome in front of him.
Saitama stared at him for a moment, blinked, “The supermarket on the other side of this block. And It’s limit one per person.” He said in response to the only question he warranted giving an answer to. He slammed the door shut leaving Reigen alone in the hallway.
“Dammit,” Reigen grumbled, “Two would be much more convenient.”
The door behind him swung open, “Could you two please keep it down?”
Reigen chuckled nervously with a rubber to back of his head, “Apologizes.”
Saitama woke up to a pounding on his door. He grumbled but he rolled out of bed. That was when he noticed the thumping pounding sound from the other side of his wall - from Reigen’s apartment - and then he ran to the door that maintain a frantic pounding. He swung the door open to reveal a frazzled, bleeding Reigen standing on his doorstep, “I can’t wake him up,” He whispered, “He’s not waking up. Saitama, He’s not waking up. I don’t know what to do -”
Saitama pushed Reigen to the side. The man was too dazed, too frazzled with concern and a possible concussion. He rushed into Reigen’s apartment and found Mob floating in the middle of the single room that made up the studio apartment. He looked as if he was standing, and Saitama felt a cold sweat dripping down his face as he watched the boy swinging around the few items that Reigen owned in a wild attempt to keep aside the monsters that he could only see in his nightmare.
“Oi,” Saitama whispered, “Mob…”
The sound of his voice did nothing. Saitama started to edge in closer. A microwave flew at his face, and Saitama flinched away from it. He heard a muffled groan come from behind him. No more dodging then. Why was Reigen following so closely behind him? Because he was just as concerned about the kid as Saitama was. After all Reigen was a responsible guy, even if slightly shady at times, if he hadn’t taken the boy to the authorities then he must have found something out that kept him from doing such.
Saitama glanced over his shoulder and he watched the very pale Reigen behind him, “Did you know-?”
Reigen nodded his head, “I have a bruise on my back - he had - I didn’t know in his sleep. Nothing happened yesterday when he was sleeping in the office.”
Saitama turned his attention back to Mob, “You should stay back,” He cautioned Reigen, “You’re not as strong as I am…”
Reigen swallowed, nodded, and otherwise responded in ways that Saitama could neither see nor hear. Saitama didn’t care. He stepped closer to Mob, “Oi,” He hissed, “Mob.” No response, but since Saitama was closer he could see the boy trembling, “You’re okay.” He told the boy. Still no reaction. “Wake up, Mob!” Saitama screamed.
The boy’s eyes opened slowly as he woke from his dream, and he stared at the items around him as they all settled back down on the ground. Mob settled on his knees with his hands covering his face. The boy heaved as if he was sobbing, but both Saitama and Reigen, frozen to their spots unsure of how to reassure the boy, noticed the lack of tears dropping from his face or running down his arms, making their way through the small crevices between his fingers.
Eventually Reigen swallowed, and he stumbled past Saitama. He stared down at Mob, and he collapsed on his knees in front of Mob. Mob fell forward, he wrapped his arms around Reigen. He looked up at the man taking care of him, and Reigen’s blood ran cold as Mob’s words echoed in his head, “Am I a monster?”
Reigen shook his head slowly, horrified by the notion, “Why would you think that?” He asked softly.
“Because I can do these things.” The boy answered him, “Because I can hurt people.”
“So can a knife,” Reigen answered softly. He ran a hand through Mob’s hair, “And you saw me use to prep dinner. These abilities of yours? They are just tools like anything else. How use them defines the nature of them. Are trying to point your knife at people? Do you want to hurt people?”
Mob frantically shook his head, horrified at the very thought that he might have wanted to intentionally hurt the man who had only cared for him - even after he’d hurt him, on multiple occasions.
“Then,” Reigen answered with a small smile, “I’ll help you. I’ll help teach you how to use your powers.”
Mob took a deep breath, smiled with a relief that broke Reigen’s heart into even more pieces. Mob buried his face into Reigen’s shirt, and Reigen could feel the hot tears through his thin shirt, “Thank you.” Mob mumbled, “Thank you.”