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Reigen climbed the flight of stairs leading back up to his office. He took a sip of the steaming cup of coffee he held in one hand and sputtered. Nope, still too hot. The tip of his tongue stuck out in an attempt to cool as he opened the stairwell door. It was a bit of a walk to get a decent cup of coffee, but some days he needed the kick. Plus it gave him a chance to have a smoke on the way. He didn’t smoke much in the office anymore, especially not when Mob was over. (What kind of loser would smoke around a kid?) The office building wasn’t large but he had to walk almost the full length of it before reaching the door with “Spirits and Such Consultation Office” printed on it. He tugged his keys out of his pocket only to find that the door was already unlocked. Oh. He must’ve forgotten. Well, no harm, right? I mean, leaving a psychic 9-year-old in an unlocked office for a half an hour was fine, right? Right. Reassured by his own logic, Reigen stepped inside.
He was not expecting the room to look like a disaster. It was ransacked. His bookshelf had been knocked over and its contents strewn about the room. The floor was covered with various papers, cushions, tea mugs (one of which hadn’t survived), and bits of trash. A burglary? he thought, his brain trying to wrap itself around the scene in front of him. …Shit!
“Mob!” shouted Reigen, running into the room.
With little point, since he didn’t have to look far to find him. The boy was sitting on the mostly bare couch on top of a lonely cushion. His legs were pulled to his chest and his expression, though as unreadable as ever, held an intensity Reigen hadn’t seen before. It was like he was trying to burn a hole in the floor with his gaze. Which may not have been outside the realm of possibility for all Reigen knew. He watched, but Mob didn’t react to his entry or noise, so he placed his coffee safely near the door before approaching the couch.
“Mob.”
The child flinched and broke his stare with the floor. Their eyes met for a split second before Mob looked back to the ground. His face tightened as if he was about to cry. The smaller items around the room began to rise off the floor, but Reigen didn’t acknowledge them.
“Mob,” repeated Reigen, his voice steady, “Breathe. I’m not mad. It’s alright.”
Obediently, Mob opened his mouth, letting out the breath he had been holding. The room settled back into place as he took in a fresh one.
“There you go,” said Reigen, releasing his own breath. He picked up a wayward cushion and tossed onto the couch beside Mob. Reigen sat with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands loosely folded. He waited to see if Mob would speak first, but he didn’t. Reigen wondered what could have caused this…tantrum? Explosion? Whatever it was. Mob hadn’t seemed upset when he came in that day. Maybe a little quiet, but he was always quiet. Then again, Reigen had spent most of his time looking for new clients online and hadn’t been paying him much attention. Easy mistake, right? He was still getting used to this “psychic apprenticeship” thing.
“So,” said Reigen, “What’s going on?”
Mob made no answer.
“Come on, Mob. Talk to me. I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”
Mob’s fingers began to fidget as he loosened the grip on his knees.
“Master,” he said in a small voice, “What was it like before you knew how to control your powers?”
Reigen quickly berated himself for not taking the time to write down a consistent story of his psychic abilities. It was necessary to keep up his image (and now to keep his secret weapon on board). He just had to hope he wasn’t saying anything contradictory.
“Well, ah…my powers aren’t as…physical as yours. And they hadn’t surfaced when I was your age. I wasn’t aware of them until I was old enough to learn control.”
“Oh.” The response was thin. Obviously not what he’d been hoping for.
“…Did it…get out of hand today?” asked Reigen cautiously.
Mob shook his head. “No…not today.”
“Yesterday, then?” offered Reigen, sensing the unfinished thought.
“Not yesterday.”
He was just dodging around the issue at this point.
“Mob-“
“I’m sorry,” Mob cut in, “I-…It was before I came here.”
Before? How long had Mob been showing up? Reigen pondered. Three months or so. Had it really only been that long?
“There were these…teenagers. They had taken something from us, me and Ritsu. I can’t remember what. When I tried to help Ritsu, one of them hit me. I…blacked out. And when I woke up, they…they were...” Mob swallowed. His voice dropped to almost a whisper. “I don’t know what I did.”
Reigen was speechless for a rare moment. He knew Mob’s powers were strong (not that he had anything to measure against), but just…running out of control like that? At least it explained why Mob had come looking for a master in the first place.
“If this happened a while ago,” said Reigen, “Why is it bothering you right now?”
“Um…I ran into them. The teenagers.”
Ah.
“When they saw me they, um…screamed. And ran. They were pushing each other over trying to get away.”
“I suppose they would…” Reigen thought aloud. Mob hid his face behind his knees and Reigen bit his lip. He was really off today. “Listen, Mob, that doesn’t matter. That was-“
“It DOES matter!” shouted Mob. The items around them began to move again. “What if it happens again?! What if I can’t control it?! What if-“ They settled as he choked back a sob. “What if someone else gets hurt…?”
This kid… For crying out loud, he was a kid. Psychic powers or no, he wasn’t even out of elementary school. And now he was becoming scared of himself? Reigen stood up and turned to him. Mob looked up. There was the smallest shimmer of water on his face.
“Alright,” said Reigen, “Get up.”
Mob blinked, his face taking on a familiar blank expression.
“Come on.” Reigen leaned over and slipped his arms under Mob’s, picking him up. He didn’t weigh much. Reigen set him on his feet. Mob let his head and shoulders droop but Reigen pushed them back, telling him to stand up straight.
“Listen,” said Reigen. He knelt so they could speak at eye level. “These powers don’t make you better than anyone else. I’ve told you this. But they don’t make you any worse either. They are a part of you. As natural as anyone with any other sort of talent. And…” His face hardened. “They are not stronger than you. They come from you, and you can control them. You just need to practice and believe that you can.” He smiled. “After all you’ve got Reigen Arataka, rising star of the psychic world as your teacher. You’ll be fine. We can do this.”
As his teacher spoke, Mob never broke eye contact. The hopelessness in his eyes slowly melted away and was replaced with the same wonder he had whenever Reigen gave him a talk like this. Then that melted too, replaced with uncertainty.
“Is that why you aren’t afraid?” he asked quietly.
Reigen’s smile vanished, but reappeared as he shook his head dismissively. “Nah, that’s not it. I’m not afraid because I’ve seen the type of person you are.” He released Mob’s shoulders and stood back up. “You would never hurt anyone if you could help it. You’re a good kid, Mob.”
Mob blinked, the slightest bit of pink touching his face. Then he smiled a small, shy smile.
“Thank you, Master…”
Reigen put his hands in his pockets. “Don’t mention it. Now, Mob-“
The boy stepped forward and wrapped his skinny arms around Reigen’s waist, pressing his forehead into his stomach. Reigen froze up. He was not a person who received hugs. And looking down, Reigen genuinely wondered when the last one had been. Mob was so small, even for his age. A small, scared child. That for whatever reason had been born with amazing psychic powers. Awkwardly, Reigen placed a hand on his head.
He agreed to train Mob to make money. That was the story, at its most honest. He agreed even though he was hiring a kid and even though he knew absolutely nothing about real psychic powers. But now…Mob had barely been there for a season, but Reigen was actually feeling attached. Whether this was for his value in exorcism or because he was a nice kid who needed someone to talk to didn’t matter. Reigen knew he would do whatever he could to support him.
Mob loosened his hold and stepped back. “Sorry,” he mumbled, though his down-angled face still looked relatively happy. Then he looked around at the office, with its scattered contents on the floor and against the wall. “Sorry about this, too.”
“Ah,” Reigen found his voice again, “Don’t worry about it, you didn’t damage too much. I might not even take it out of your wage, assuming you help me clean up.”
“O-of course,” said Mob.