Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ah, youth.

A wonderful period of discovery, metacognition, and fascinating adolescent development. During this embarrassing series of years, some acquire hobbies, realizing their interests and making friends out of it. Some find skills and knowledge, growing along with their age. And some even yield into the reigns of romance, an exciting affair full of first loves and fluttering experiences. It's truly a beautiful moment in time.

But Ritsu disa-fucking-grees. Youth? Physically, his body is in tip-top shape. Mentally, it is 1867 and he has tuberculosis at age seventy-two.

"Kageyama-kun, you have something on the side of your mouth. No, not there—" Teru, like a protagonist in a shoujo manga, leans forward to swipe his finger on Ritsu's brother's lower lip. Mob blushes, touching his mouth and blinking with fluster.

Enamored by his reaction, Teru, the rat, takes a grape from its bundle on the picnic blanket covered in various foods and feeds it to his lover. Ritsu, who is standing by the doorway with an agonized expression, watches as the duo exhibits the most insufferable displays of affection he has ever had the misfortune of witnessing with his own two eyes. Fine. Okay. Dates are acceptable. Nothing's wrong with two teenagers madly in love having a romantic rendezvous over a light meal.

However.

They are having their fucking picnic date inside Ritsu's godforsaken room. Unhinged and ready to hurl a certain golden boy into the golden sun, Ritsu dazedly looks at his hand, counting up to three with his quivering fingers. The intolerable lovebirds have invaded his room for their tender extravaganzas thrice. There are tears in Ritsu's eyes.

"Why are you in my room," he asks, dispassionate enough to make it sound like an exasperated statement. The two turn their heads to the third wheel, as if he were a visitor in his own fucking room.

His brother at least looks sheepish, replying, "I thought you'd be back late because of your council duties, Ritsu."

Ritsu gestures to the pouring rain. "We postponed the activity." He, too, wishes he could postpone his wretched fate to being a witness to their puke-inducing romance, preferably until forever.

"There was, um," Teru pauses, blushing, "an accident… in Shigeo-kun's room."

Ritsu files away his use of first-name basis into his brain to process for later, instead opting to ask about the glaring, unexplained problem: "Accident?"

The two look like criminals caught committing grand theft auto. Ritsu feels fear, not for once in his fourteen years of living.

He asks again, "What accident?"

Teru, with the tone of a scolded adolescent, explains.

***

"Don't feel too bad about it, Teruki-kun," Mob consoles, testing the name on his tongue and shyly liking the intimacy of it. The boy next to him is still sulking, unhappy about the sudden rain thwarting their planned picnic date. They had already set everything under the tree, only to have their outing get interrupted by a storm. 

"I swear I checked the weather." Teru sighs. "Are you sure you don't want to just use our powers to keep the rain away while we stay outside?"

Mob shakes his head. "Don't worry. I had some stuff to show you anyway."

Hesitantly, Teru nods and follows Mob to his room. They set the picnic blanket on the floor and arrange the edibles. There’s a wide range of foods and drinks, and after they finish setting it all, the black-haired esper notices a box left in the bag. It seems like his partner notices it, too, because they both reach for it at the same moment.

They blink in surprise, but they’re used to casual touches like this. (Ritsu is, not at all to his delight, an expert at TeruMob affection.)

They pull out the box at the same time, and it reveals itself to be none other than the classic red and chocolate-flavored Pocky. 

Mob is surprised when Teru groans and drops the box to cover his face in his hands. 

“Teruki-kun?” Confused, the shorter boy tilts his head. Teru parts his fingers to stare at his now-boyfriend (how surreal it is, still) through his hands. Putting them down, he gives a sheepish grin.

“This seemed a lot smoother in my head,” he admits. “I thought I’d be cool about it, but now it’s just—” Teru interrupts himself with a laugh. 

“What’re you talking about—” Mob’s eyes widen, followed by a smile. “Oh.”

Teru smiles back. “It’s Pocky Day!”

“I can’t believe I forgot,” Mob says. He opens the Pocky box and unwraps it. Taking out the stick-shaped biscuit, he offers one to Teru. “What were you worrying about, anyway?”

Teru decides to go for it. “Do you,” he begins, “want to play the Pocky game?” 

Mob’s hand pauses in the air. In the span of a second, his face turns comically red.

“Uhhh,” he replies eloquently. 

“You don’t have to—”

“Yes.” Realizing that was an awkwardly fast response, he adds, not-at-all just as awkwardly, “Yes.”

They share a few blinks at each other before erupting into laughter. 

Teru nods. “Okay, let’s.” 

He places the Pocky stick in his mouth, having the chocolate-covered tip face Mob. Carefully placing his lips between the biscuit, the bowl-cut broccoli boy begins the game. Teru takes the first bite, Mob taking the second. Every crunch feels incredibly loud in the quiet room. As the distance lessens, so does their self-control. An inch is left between them, and as Teru takes the last bite, an eruption of magnitudinous esper energy shakes the room, sending objects out of gravity. Whoever lost control first is unknowable. All that matters now is the mess that is Mob’s room. 

“I.” Teru wants to cry. Whether in embarrassment or in pain from the pencil now embedded in his back, he doesn’t know. “I am very sorry.”

Mob waves his hands. "No, no. I think that was me. I don't know. Um."

The darker-haired boy fixes his room easily, the aura of his colorful energy encasing floating objects and putting them back to their original place.

***

Ritsu pinches his fingers on the bridge of his nose.

"Wow. Great to hear your relationship is thriving," he says, lying through his teeth. "But what are you doing in my fucking room."

Mob gives him an angelic smile that makes him wonder if his brother is actually fucking messing with him, and he’s been living ignorant of his scheming nature this whole time. He wouldn’t be surprised if the two of them had plotted to ruin Ritsu’s life with friendship and love the moment they exited the womb. "Oh, we just got awkward staying in the same room where we almost ki—Oh! Hehe."

Ritsu's palms meet his own face in an attempt to remove it from existence. He can't stand this anymore. No. No. Stop it. He will give anything to make his brother stop blushing, to make both of them stop blushing. Kidneys, anyone?

Must he listen to their tales of everlasting devotion on top of having to see it? He didn't ask for a verbal reenactment of the most stomach-churning scenario in romantic history. He just wants to know why they're enjoying a picnic date in a fourteen-year-old's room instead of literally anywhere else.

Teru looks disgustingly reminiscent as he smiles and says, "Well, I think it's quite symbolic to have our first date here…"

"Here. You mean my room. Which is neither yours nor Brother’s."

"Yeah! Do you remember, Mob?" They join their hands together, ignorant of Ritsu glaring holes into Teru’s glittering sweater. "This is where I first confessed to you—though you didn't get it through."

Is that something to be proud of??? Failing to confess in your boyfriend’s fourteen-year-old younger brother’s room???? 

Before any of their lovey-dovey shit continues for the next twenty minutes and an additional eternity, Ritsu announces, "Out. Out of my room."

Mob sulks. "But Ritsu…"

His lover turns to him and comforts, "It's okay. We're done eating anyway. Why don't you show me that book you said you had in your room?"

Smiling, Ritsu's brother and unintentional emotional assailant replies, "Okay, Teruki-kun."

As they leave the room after packing things up, Ritsu wonders tiredly if they'll get married in his room, too. Perhaps this particular spot on Earth, out of all the billions of places and teenager's rooms, is a magnet to unfortunately successful romances.

***

Shou takes a handful of popcorn into his mouth, holding the popcorn bucket on one arm and orange juice on his other hand. He says, incredulously and with a hint of sadistic amusement, “So they kissed and blew up the whole room? Man, after everything I did to fix up your house, too.”

Ritsu glares at the offending orange-haired boy and places his chips and milk on the restaurant table near the movie theatre, sitting down with his friend. They came too early. “Fixing my house was the bare minimum after you set it on fire and essentially kidnapped my parents.”

“I didn’t kidnap them,” he says, hardly sounding innocent. “But isn’t it better now that they’re together and, like, not pining?”

At that, Ritsu can only sigh. “Shou,” the younger Kageyama replies, “Imagine it like this.” He then opens a carton of milk and pours it into Shou’s popcorn. 

“Wh—Ritsu, what the fuck. ”

“Taste it.” The milken madlad takes a bite out of the wet, soggy snack and immediately cringes. Shou watches this act of irreversible sin with a look of contempt. “This is them before their established relationship.”

“Wait, Ritsu, don’t—”

“This is them—” he takes out the milk from each kernel with finely controlled telekinesis and places the now-yellowish liquid back into the carton, chugging the sour cream-flavored milk into his unimaginably corrupted system. “—now.”

The last word was spoken so raspily that Shou feels goosebumps from fear, as he continues to stare at his awful companion in sickened shock. “Oh my fucking gods.”

Ritsu closes his eyes and puts his hands together as if he is twenty thousand years old, ancient and wise from incomprehensible hardships. “That’s them. That’s how it feels. No matter what, they’re just nauseating to me…”

Shou nods in horror, continuing for him, “When there’s milk in the popcorn, you’d do anything to get rid of it, but when you do, the milk tastes rotten…”

They sit in contemplative silence, philosophizing about their new Popcorn-Milk on the Subject of Romance Theory like wise men in the Classical Period of Ancient Greece, until they’re interrupted by the first wave of viewers coming out of the theatre. “Let’s go,” Shou says, and Ritsu takes his shitty milk and untouched chips. 

“Ah. Is that them?” Shou gestures to the crowd, but Ritsu refuses to look. His fear surpasses his curiosity, so he shakes his head, much to the solemn understanding of Shou. Unfortunately, he is Just Destined to face the looming ruination that is TeruMob, because they walk towards him with bright faces. 

Shou whispers, “Do they always have their own sparkly, flowery background behind them, or am I just going insane after watching you eat and drink the worst possible combination of consumable substances in culinary history?” 

“Witness theory in practice, Shou,” Ritsu resigns and tells him somberly.

“Wow, you’re here, too!” Teru says, and the younger black-haired boy can physically feel the exclamation mark being punctured into his abdomen. 

Shou maintains the unfortunate social interaction. “Yep. Was the movie good?”

As the three carry on normal human conversation, Ritsu allows himself to relax without the presence of romantic affection, given that the two are too engrossed in talking and have, at least, the decency to not publicly endorse their not-marriage. 

All is good and right before Shou accidentally drops Ritsu’s milk (sour cream edition!) from the table to the floor. Teru, both out of sheer surprise and out of instinctive and primal need to save his white sneakers, moves back in surprise. Unfortunately, he fails to correctly evade the milk and— 

Slip!

He falls, and he falls faster than Ritsu’s ability to process the situation at every passing second. He falls, until, like a scene from a movie, Ritsu’s brother grabs him by the waist and arm, saving him from the evil that is milk. They stay in that pose for a while, staring in shock and gratitude and love, giving the two younger boys front row seats to the abhorrent masterpiece that is adolescent attraction. 

“Wow, uh,” Shou breaks the silence. Ritsu thanks him inwardly. “That ended well. Guess there’s really no use crying over spilt milk, huh?” Ritsu takes it back, killing him instantly in his mind. The fire boy should thank him for being one of Ritsu’s more tolerable friends, or else he’d be ending him with his mind and not in it.  

The spilt milk joke is received with hearty laughter from Teru and a small chuckle from Mob.

"Wow, you're really funny, Suzuki-kun! We should hang out with you more often," Teru says, and quite unfortunately adds, "With Ritsu, of course."

Shou smiles and nods despite knowing his imminent death marked by the stare glued to the back of his head.

They bid their farewells after cleaning up the mess discreetly with their (really convenient) powers, and part ways. When they finally settle into the movie theatre, Shou tells him, “Sorry about the milk, but, to be fair, it was really bad milk.”

Ritsu only smiles. “Don’t worry about it. I think I’ll be spilling something else today as well.”

“What is it?” Shou laughs nervously. 

Ritsu tells Shou, lovingly and without a single threat of violence at all, “Blood.”

***

The high school sweethearts are out on a date, so Ritsu and his parents sit at the dining table for lunch as his brother thankfully smooches the blonde rat elsewhere. It’s a scheduled date, so Ritsu knew they’d be out. Nonetheless, out of utter paranoia and the trauma of being the third wheel, he checked his room for any two certain lovers at least thirteen times and secured it in every way possible. The iconic date spot that is Ritsu’s room is now probably more well-guarded than any other facility in the world, and he’s confident of it. So, of course, there’s no way he’d be seeing his brother with Teru until later in the afternoon.

He eats his chicken happily, finally liberated from the confines of teenage romance. The family is enjoying their meal until the sound of news on the television is overruled by the ringing noise in the Kageyama father’s pocket. Taking it out, he grumbles at the sight of an unknown caller. Ritsu's Romance Radar tingles, and he begins to sweat in dread.

“Answer it. I doubt it’s anything bad,” his mother tells him. He nods.

Taking the call, his father stands to talk elsewhere. But before he can even get out of his chair, the older male startles in shock, hand frozen in its place on the chair. “Huh?!”

Leaning towards her husband, she asks, “What’s wrong?” 

Ritsu looks at him expectantly as well. The mysterious call continues while they wait with bated breaths for an explanation.

“I see… Okay, all right… I’ll be there quickly… I understand—Yes, yes. Okay.” He ends the call just like that, and the two other members of the Kageyama household pay attention heedfully. 

Sighing, his father grimly announces the most incredulous combination of words that Ritsu would ever hear in the same sentence, “Shigeo’s at the police station.”

Well. Shit.

Chapter Text

Oh my fucking gods. Is it finally happening? Is Brother getting arrested?

Ritsu is a little worried. If you really do think about it, Mob technically has committed crimes. Property damage (though he fixed it afterwards every time), disruption of public peace (haven’t we all?), unknowingly being the figure of a religious cult (not enough to warrant an arrest, but at least enough to be legally repercussive…).

But aren't psychics beyond the law? What'll they say? 'Kageyama Shigeo caused the emergence of a large broccoli in the middle of the city and also has in many instances destroyed property when he was fourteen years of age'? It's not impossible, but…

"Dad, is Brother getting arrested?" Ritsu readies himself to fight authority (hardly any readying involved, since Ritsu is always a #rebel).

"What? Of course not," his father says, looking at him incredulously. "Why would he get arrested? Your brother's not a criminal!"

"Anyone can be a criminal, Dad..." he says somberly.

His mother gives him a look, though, so he wisely shuts up. She asks, "Why's he there, then? Is he hurt?"

"No, no, he's not. It seems like the police are mistaken," he replies, "They're suspecting his boss for criminal activity."

His boss… That’s Reigen.

Shit! That's so funny!

"Oh, but Reigen-san is such a good person!" his mother says at the same time Ritsu deadpans, "For fraud?"

His parents gape at him as if he swore. He adds, "Business fraud?"

His father shuts his eyes. "Reigen is not like that, Ritsu," he says, moving to gather his things. "You can come with me and see. He is an honest man."

***

"Yes, well, Reigen is being suspected for business fraud," the detective says, blunt. His father stares at her in slack-jawed disbelief, and Ritsu in triumph. "We just wanted to question your son since he's an employee of his."

Teru, sitting next to him, whispers into Ritsu's ear, "Reigen actually called Shigeo while we were having lunch to prove his innocence, but…"

"Has that man ever called for you during non-work hours?" Another person is questioning Mob at the other desk, and he nods. "Yes, he often does. I'm okay with it, though. Master is a good person."

Teru continues, "I have a feeling they think he's a victim." 

Ritsu thinks this might be the best thing to ever happen in his life. He stares at the sweaty Reigen, seated next to Serizawa, from afar and tries his best not to crack up at the sight. His tie is crooked, but he's doing his best to look confident. If he gets all defensive here, he'll only look more suspicious, so it seems like he's trying to look like an innocent and unfortunately accused civilian as much as humanly possible. The guy's morally all right, honestly, but the thought of him in jail is absolutely fucking hilarious. He imagines it joyfully. Reigen Arataka: Arrested For Fraud.

"We're done questioning your son, sir. Thank you for coming here." His parents nod and fuss over Mob. He and the blonde go over to him, too, and the boy is smiling unworriedly.

"Master won't get in trouble. He's a very kind person," he says, but everyone in the room seems to be looking at the supposed conman in complete distrust. A comedic spectacle, Ritsu thinks.

"I'm sure he won't. Serizawa-san is here for him, too," his mother says. "Teruki-kun, since your lunch was interrupted, would you like to stay over at our house? We still have some servings!"

At that, the apparent son-in-law grins, "Of course!"

He turns to Mob and grasps his hand affectionately. They head to the car holding hands and sharing quick cheek kisses when their parents aren't looking. Two different hands reach the car door's handle at the same time, leaving their skin to linger on each other romantically. Mob blushes, and Teru intertwines their fingers at the opportunity. They giggle shyly, and Ritsu wants to fucking scream . He is right next to the car window they're having their petrifying romance at. Of course he is. Why did they fucking choose his side of the car? Did love literally blind them? Ritsu locks the door petulantly.

He grimly accepts that the Suffering Food Chain is just like that. TeruMob < Ritsu < Reigen.

***

Ritsu rushes to his room faster than anyone could say “eternal suffering.” Triple-checking the room's security, he confirms that no couple on earth could ever enter inside it. Sighing tiredly, he flops down on his bed, taking his phone out and texting Shou.

ancient philosopher

shou u would not believe what just fucking happened

the s in shou stands for spilt milk

what happened this time

ancient philosopher

my brother got called into the police station

the s in shou stands for spilt milk

shit

do i need to go too

did we finally get caught for supernatural terrorism

ancient philosopher

no 

reigen

the s in shou stands for spilt milk

omg

congrats!!

ancient philosopher

thanks

A sharp thud interrupts his moment of giddiness. He stares at the wall with narrowed eyes. He can feel something. Sitting up, he moves his hand to make a psychic shield to defend himself, but before it can even encompass his entire room— 

Boom!

Smoke covers the room. Ritsu’s protected by his defensive bubble, but he squints his eyes. What—

What the fuck.

There is a large, gaping hole in Ritsu’s room. On his bed is one blonde and tattered boy, groaning in his room. Gods. Gods, why?

He lies back down on his bed, covering his eyes with an arm. “Did you two try to fucking kiss again?”

“...Yes.”

“Get out.”

“Okay.”

***

Unfortunately, Reigen does not get imprisoned for business fraud. He was able to be let go the next day probably because of some flowery, tear-inducing speech and Serizawa. No cuffs for him this time. An unwelcome development, but oh well. That’s why he’s in his office, once again seeking to instill doom into the adult’s work life. There’s a client inside, however, so he just sits on the couch to wait for them to leave. Much to his continuous dismay, the two Harbingers of Holes are next to him, since Tome is the one dealing with this client while the adults are away.

“I think my dog is evil. She’s like… barking.”

“Well, yes.”

Mob turns to Teru, “Oh yeah! Do you want to go to that dog cafe near our school? The dogs there are so cute, hehe.”

Teru lips turn upwards, and he hums. “I don’t think they can be as cute as you , though.”

“Eurghegh,” Ritsu interrupts, not looking up from his phone. 

“Oh, Younger Brother-kun! You were here?”

“Yeah. Interested in this?” Ritsu waves his left hand.

Teru tilts his head in askance. “In what?”

He curls his hand. “My fucking fist.”

Teru’s smile freezes on his face, and his brother looks utterly scandalized. “Ritsu! Be nice!”

“No,” he says, and walks over to Tome as the dog owner leaves her seat. “Tome-san, I think I’m close to committing homicide.”

“Me too. Me fucking too,” she says and grumbles under her breath, “Why am I getting paid for this?”

Ritsu uncaps a pen from Reigen’s ‘Sexiest Man Alive’ mug and dismantles it. “At least you’re getting paid. I never receive any emotional compensation for having to witness those two every day. Do you know they compliment each other’s elbows?”

Tome stares at him. “I’m their seatmate. Do you know they do nose rubs every time they serve bread in the cafeteria?”

Oh, this poor sap. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah.”

The door slams open. Ritsu hurriedly hides the pen he was un-inking into a plastic bag on the floor. 

“Guess who’s innocent!” Reigen’s arms are spread wide open as he laughs like a free man. 

The youngest male replies smartly, “Serizawa?”

Said male just chuckles as Reigen shakes his head. “No, me.”

“Oh, that’s unfortunate.” 

As they begin bickering, Ritsu doesn’t notice the ink gradually staining the plastic bag. Tome nudges his shoulder. “Hey, I think the pen’s staining Teru’s lunch.” 

He looks down. Oops. He picks it up and carefully takes the ink out. He throws away the dirtied utensils, not wanting to risk any contamination. Thankfully, only those were the ones that got stained and not the food, so he gives it to the blonde. “Spilled ink on your plastic. You have an extra pair of chopsticks, though, so I think you’ll be fine.”

 “Oh.” The blue-eyed boy looks at Mob. “That was for both of us.”

Ritsu’s eyes widen marginally. “Ah, I can get you new chopst—”

“I can just feed you, Shigeo,” Teru says, and Ritsu’s hands unconsciously flare up with psychic energy and an intent to commit first degree murder. 

“Haha. Don’t.”

“O-Oh. Okay, Teruki-kun. I’ll do that.” 

Is Ritsu even here? Does he even exist? They deserve a prize for being so intolerable to the point where he’s beginning to self-examine his existence. 

Teru takes some of the food and mouths ‘ah’ to his lover. Mob opens his mouth, red tinting his ears as he fails not to hide his smile with his mouth full. On the other side of the room, Serizawa gently caresses Reigen’s wrists, whispering, “I’m so glad you weren’t arrested…” 

He and Tome sit with dead eyes as the couples enjoy their lunch break. They look at them, and then at each other.

Tome tells him, “I’m lesbian.”

Ritsu stares. “Good for you.”

They eat in silence.

Chapter Text

Ritsu is taking a really long shit.

Sitting idly on the toilet, he contemplates on Shou’s sagacious and enlightened words: Your digestive health is pretty reflective of your emotional health. Constipated. 

And he’s right. Coincidence or not, perhaps his stomach started telling him yeah let’s just fucking remove everything in here and cause you Great and Unfortunate Pain right after watching Teru attempt to flirt with his brother for the fifteen millionth time with the most god-awful lines Ritsu’s ever had the misfortune of hearing in his living room. For further context, he and Mob were talking in his house when the door suddenly burst open, revealing a shining Teru. Word-for-fucking-word, he said, and Ritsu kids you not, “Mob-kun! You’re under arrest for illegal possession! Illegal possession of my 𝒽ℯ𝒶𝓇𝓉…”

Like, Christ. Ritsu thinks it’s his own self who’ll end up getting life imprisonment after finally snapping and committing homicide. Is there a term for the murder of a brother-in-law? Parricide? Wait, they’re not married. Terucide?

Anyway, he blames love for his disastrous gastrointestinal woes. He clenches his fist as he tries his best to unleash as much shit as possible. Oh, woebegone is his life, rife with love and bowel difficulty.

As he struggles with his distressing constipation, a voice is heard from outside the bathroom. See, the walls in the Kageyama household aren’t necessarily thin. But the wall that separates the bathroom in his room and Mob’s room is.

“Babe—” Babe? “—you’re so cute that you’re killing me!” You’re so insufferable that you’re killing me.

“Teruki, stop,” his brother says, “You’re embarrassing me!”

“Ah~! That pout! This is mobslaughter!” If Ritsu wasn’t currently glued to the toilet seat, there’d be slaughter all right.

“Teruki…” His brother’s voice is shy, and he can practically feel Teru’s grin from behind the bathroom walls. 

The blonde continues, “Babe! Sunshine!! Shige-yolk of my soul!!” 

Just as Ritsu questioned the fuck? in his mind, his brother replied in a tiny voice, “Teruki, what are you saying ?”

He heard a shuffle and the slight creak of the bed; they were finally sitting down. “I wanna use pet names with you.”

“Y-You—what? Why?” Incredulous, Mob’s discomposure could be told in the way small objects began to float around the room. Ritsu feels the energy, and along with it, fear for his own sanity. Is he going to have to listen to all this? He’s shitting. He pressures himself to shit as fast as humanly possible, but it’s an arduous task. Still, he must go beyond his excretory limits to remove himself from yet another chapter of the TeruMob Established Relationship, Fluff, 234k ongoing fanfiction But In Real Life.

“Because,” Teru replies, “Whenever I see you, I just—feel like calling you cute names. Of course, being able to call you Shigeo is special enough already, but the urge to call you sweetie pie or honey bun has become, like, a primitive instinct now that we’re actually dating.”

“Um,” Mob says intelligently. Ritsu thinks of the horror of having to hear new and unimproved nicknames every single godsforsaken day of his life directed to his brother . By the rat whom he’s determined to commit Terucide to. He strongly manifests a firm no.

“Yes.” Fuck! Goddamn! “I mean—yes—um, if it makes you feel more comfortable, then you can do it. I don’t mind.” 

“Really?!” He hears a hug, somehow. They’re hugging. “Thanks, darling sugar honey butter apple pie!” 

What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fu —

“You’re so corny, Teruki, hehe!” 

Ritsu doesn’t finish his shit until twenty minutes later.

***

“You’re so sad, Ritsu,” Shou says, taking a bite of his bread. They’re on their way to school, and Ritsu told the tragic tale of his toilet misadventures to the red-haired boy with a somber tone. “Do you want me to burn your house and bring your parents to a vacation spot again? Maybe it’ll burn away whatever curse there is in your room. And you can stay with me while the lovebirds stay in Teru’s apartment.”

“Wow, glad to know the first solution that came to your mind was second-degree arson. Also, do you remember how Mob reacted that time? Do you perhaps want to die?” His brother had thought something terrible had happened to his family and went absolutely apeshit. There’s no way they’re going through that again. So, yeah, maybe no arson.

“I’ll tell him in advance.”

“And he’ll say yes?”

“No, but he’ll know about it, at least. Like ‘no I’m not killing anyone here, haha. Just felt like setting fire to your house, LOL.’”

Incredible. Shou never fails to astound him. He lets him know. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

Shou grins and wraps an arm around Ritsu’s shoulder, causing him to sway a bit. Ritsu balances himself and gives him a glare but makes no effort to release himself from his grip. 

“You know,” Ritsu starts, albeit a little hesitant. “Why don’t I just sleep over at your apartment?” 

Shou blinks at him. Before he knows it, he’s engulfed in a hug. “That sounds really fun!! Ah, I have so much to show you!! We can watch that new anime series, or that documentary about cats, or—or play that video game I told you about!”

He continues his excited rambles, and Ritsu ducks his head to hide a smile. He’s also thinking of things he’d want to do at his friend’s place that he can’t do at home. Shou has a weirdly large amount of money, so his place is actually filled with recreational shit that Ritsu normally doesn’t even think to purchase or can afford.

They’re almost on their way to school, but there’s something on the road. Shou stops to gawk, and Ritsu squints his eyes. 

That something is more disgusting than he thought it would be. It’s love. It’s love and Teru and Mob holding each other’s hands, swaying them as they eye-gaze adoringly at each other. Ritsu looks to Shou, and they nod, walking faster and hiding their faces inconspicuously. They walk faster and faster until they overtake them. 

“Nice!” Shou says, still hiding his face as they speed-walk funnily. They must be a sight to see, right now. 

But ridiculously enough, the couple starts matching their pace. They’re still looking at each other affectionately, as if they were making out with their eyes. The two pairs of boys are speed-walking on the street in an odd manner, and a shop owner stares at them with a raised eyebrow from behind his window.

“Why are they following our pace?! ” Ritsu hisses, and Shou looks terrified. What are they doing? Do they know it’s them? Do they take competitive pleasure in battling random people on the streets to see who walks faster?

“It’s okay,” Shou whispers, “We’re almost there!” And the school gates come to view. They run. 

Almost there, almost there!

Like a scene from a horror movie, a hand clasps Ritsu’s shoulder. Ritsu yelps and whips his head around. Teru is sweating, but his eerie grin is stuck to his face. 

Shou steps back in unadulterated fear. Ritsu manages to let out an almost shaky, “Yes?”

The blonde is still smiling as he raises a fist. The two younger males’ eyes follow it nervously. 

Teru opens his mouth to speak, “You dropped this.” He reveals the keychain that was on Ritsu’s bag, now on Teru’s wet palm. Does his brother soak his own hand in that? Romance must be an amazing thing for his brother to overcome it. Nevertheless, he sighs in relief.

“Thank you,” he says, and before Teru could respond to that, his lover waves and catches up to them. “Hi, Ritsu! And Shou!”

“You’re here, my baby bun boo boo bear darling dove!” Teru says sweetly. Shou visibly cringes.

“Hi, Teru. I missed you.”

“I missed you too, sweetie heart!”

Ritsu turns away from the repulsive interaction and dashes to the school gates. Shou sputters and follows his lead before greeting them with a quick and short bow. Shou stares at him wide-eyed as they’re finally safe inside the confines of school. 

“Woah. That was, like, the worst thing I’ve heard in my entire life. And my father was a supernatural terrorist.”

Ritsu closes his eyes and inhales. He stops walking and dramatically looks to the sky. “This is worse. It’s so much worse. God, I think I’d rather your father kidnap me and try to take over the world again.”

Shou looks at him seriously, saying, “Yeah. This is Teru-rism.”

Ritsu turns his head to stare at him. 

That day, no one sees Shou disappear from the face of the Earth.

Chapter Text

Ritsu, now the president of the student council in his school, is loaded with duties. However, come these responsibilities are experiences, as well. He’s been in the council for three years already, and he can pretty much say with confidence that he’s got some high-grade leadership skills. True, before awakening his psychic powers, he never really put a lot of thought into his own personal achievements, envious of his brother’s psychic strength, but now he can better appreciate the other things he gained by himself, including his duties as a member of the council. He’s proud of himself, and he enjoys his work.

But now, right now, he fucking hates it.

“Wow, your campaign speech was really solid! Hey, Ritsu, what do you think of this?” 

Teruki, ratman extraordinaire, not-at-all-a-brother-in-law, generally just plain awful, is holding out his own written campaign speech in askance for advice. The boy’s trying his luck with the student council elections, but of course, he had to ask Ritsu. Ritsu, the president with three years of experience and knowledge. Ritsu, known for his leadership prowess and impressive competence. Ritsu, who doesn’t give any flying wonderfuck about Teru’s shitty extracurricular activities and student fucking expression, at the moment. 

He sighs. “That’s… Do you really need to put that?”

Teru tilts his head. “Put what?”

Ritsu massages his gradually aching forehead. “This. ” He points to the portion of the paper that says, in glittery orange penmanship, You’ll never have a teru-ble moment! Vote Teru, the most teru-liable candidate!

“Hmm.” Teru places a finger to his chin. He thinks, long and hard, until he declares, “I’ll keep it.”

Then why are you asking me for help?!

Worst of all, as if being in the same room with Teru isn’t aggravating enough, the blonde is accompanied by his brother. Here’s the thing. Being with his brother alone is okay. It’s nice, actually. Being with Teru is inopportune and unfavorable. Ritsu would call the experience tantamount to getting your shin kicked by a preschooler; annoying, but only slightly painful. Being with Teru and Mob simultaneously is catastrophic, similar to the gates of hell ceremoniously opening to unleash different kinds of evil all at once. Distressingly, Ritsu’s had to be with these two natural disasters the whole week because Teru’s moving out and choosing an apartment closer to his school. Though, there’s not quite a difference to him staying over since he’s been sleeping over here more times than Ritsu would prefer. He might as well live here instead of choosing an apartment, for fuck’s sake.

“I think it’s really funny! Haha, you meant reliable, right?” Mob’s eyes are full of admiration. Ritsu’s, annihilation. 

“Yeah! Teru-liable,” he laughs, like it’s funny, “Cool, right?”

The only thing cool in this room is the cool that’s leaving Ritsu. He’s losing his cool. He’s also losing twenty-five years of his life the more he listens to them talk as if he weren’t here. Perhaps he can invent a new strand of psychic power: letting the earth swallow him. Would be nice. To be soil. To be dirt.

“I would like to leave,” Ritsu deadpans. He has no place here, where Teru doesn’t care that he fucking detests his puns and where love is germinating in the air faster than Ritsu can stab the blonde with his pen. 

But much like life is to Ritsu, Teru’s reply seeks to perpetuate his suffering. “But I need your advice!”

“You’re not—Look, my advice is that your jokes fucking suck.” Mob gasps, scandalized. “If you won’t take it, I’ll leave.”

“Wait, wait! How about Teru-riffic! My plans for this school are ex-teru-ordinary! I’ll hear what the students Hanaza-want! I’m handsome and cool like Hanaza-water! I’m so charismatic that I —”

Ritsu telekinetically moves himself quickly to the door and promptly shuts it. He doesn’t want to hear any more of that or he’ll die. Today’s been a Really Bad, No Good, Shitty Day, and he’s exhausted. It’s only seven in the morning. 

He leaves the house, grabs his bag, and leaves for school. Shou, who came back from the dead, greets him good morning. The black-haired boy nods in reply.

“Wow, you look exhausted. Did the lovebirds sing songs of praise about each other’s ankles again? Or did they attempt to kiss each other in front of your door this time?” Shou asks way too happily. His hands are in his pockets, and he leans closer to Ritsu.

“Ugh. Hanazawa’s been asking me for student council advice. He wants to join.”

“Yikes. You had to,” Shou lowers his tone as if trying to hide a string of curses from his mother, “interact with him?”

The woes of interaction, indeed. Ritsu nods sadly, replying, “He’s such a rat.”

Shou gazes at him with empathy. Then, to cheer him up, he moves to stand in front of him and grabs his shoulders, “Hey! Why don’t we have that sleepover tonight? Have your parents said yes?”

Ritsu perks up significantly. “Yeah, they did. Should I go today?”

Shou nods, and he talks about their plans for later with a bright face and active hand gestures. He names some video games he’s never heard of before, of snacks that should not be physically nor humanly possible to eat, of the matches collection (matches as in for fire, because Shou is arsonist) he wants to show off to him, of movies that Ritsu would never watch in his life (...but hasn't Shou always been the exception?). The boy across Ritsu is so enthusiastic and cheery that Ritsu doesn’t notice his own smile aimed towards the redhead until they’ve entered their classroom. 

***

It’s six in the evening, and Ritsu is gawking at Shou’s apartment. It’s big. Not as big as his distaste for his brother’s boyfriend’s public displays of affection, but it’s still big. There’s an air hockey table in the living room, and his matches collection is… genuinely impressive, while Ritsu loathes to admit it. They bought a box of pizza on the way home, so they fix themselves on the dining table to eat dinner. Shou hands him a small milk carton from his refrigerator, and Ritsu gives his thanks for the food. 

“Your place is… pretty nice. Did your former cult have extra money to give you? Or is this, like, your dad’s inheritance?”

“Ritsu.” Shou leans closer to look at him seriously. “Have you ever heard of theft?”

“What? ”

“Yeah.” Shou takes a large bite out of the pizza, but Ritsu is staring at him incredulously.

“Please elaborate on your financial crimes, Shou.”

“No.” The doorbell rings, ending the conversation. For now, Ritsu promises. Shou moves to open the door, and—

“What are you two doing here?” Shou’s voice sounds almost nervous, and Ritsu swears to fucking hell —

“Hi, Younger Brother-kun, Suzuki-kun!” The rat. No. No, no, they can’t be here. Ritsu resists the urge to hide under the table, but he grits his teeth and says to Teru as politely as possible, “What the fuck are you doing here.”

He is undeterred, replying sadly, “Oh, your house burned down.” Mob nods. Hmm. What the fuck?

He instinctively turns to Shou, who catches his stare and immediately raises his hands up. “I didn’t do it this time! Seriously!” Can he trust a former arsonist (and apparently a thief?) to not burn his house down?

Mob reassures him, “There was an accident with the gas range. It’s okay though! Mom and Dad aren’t hurt and went on their vacation as planned, but they insisted we go to you while the house got its repairs done.”

Ritsu resists the urge to cry only because he’s wearing eye makeup and doesn’t want to smudge it. King shit. 

Anyway, he doesn’t want them here, and it seems that Shou doesn’t either. Perhaps because of the resulting trauma of hearing them call each other pet names (“I passed by your brother and Hanazawa in a convenience store one time and heard him say ‘pumpkin pie smootchie boo honey bunny buttercup.’ I nearly puked on the spot.” “Yikes.”) or because he just didn’t want them to interrupt their peace in his own abode, Shou says, bluntly, “Sorry, but I don’t think you guys can stay here.”

Mob frowns, but he’s understanding. “Okay. You guys have fun then :)” 

Ritsu has no fucking idea how he said that smiley face out loud—as in verbally—but he decides not to ask because he knows his brother is pretty much the quintessence of strange and cryptic. Shou still whispers a what the fuck, though. Understandable.

“Yeah, we’ll leave,” Teru says. Thank you, Teru. “But only after you give me more tips on my student council campaign.” Goodbye, Teru. Ritsu raises a glowing fist, ready to wipe out the fucking menace from the face of the Earth, but Shou stops him, shaking his head solemnly. Futile, the gesture says. Teru is still looking at him pleadingly, and Mob’s eyes are shining with expectation. He sighs, resigned and ready to throw himself into the gates of the hell that is requited love. He’d rather this than have the blonde pester him about it the next few days. Might as well get it over with.

Shou tries, “You can stay for dinner?”

They glow at his suggestion. Ritsu adds quickly, “But only for dinner.”

“Of course!” Teru promises.

***

They did not only stay for dinner.

No, in fact, they’re sleeping over, too. Ritsu is but a stoppable force to their immovable object. 

Shou looks down, too, though Ritsu supposes it’s because they’re being absolutely revolting in his house. They brushed their teeth earlier while giving each other a giggly staring contest in the guest bathroom, and Ritsu and Shou both had the misfortune of seeing them try to kiss each other with foam in their mouths while trying to give them spare blankets. Ritsu’s about to foam in the mouth, too, but without the, y’know, fucking toothpaste.

“I’d say I’m sorry about them, but I think they’re just impossible to remove and I should be the one being given a sorry to,” Ritsu says, still grim at the prospect of having their sleepover ruined. 

Shou grins regardless. “Hey, you know what this means? We’ll get to actually stay closer in the same room! All the stuff I wanted to show you is here, anyway.” Ritsu is still a little sullen, but he manages a small smile.

And for the next two hours, they reach midnight after playing and watching a variety of things in Shou’s room. Twelve’s pretty early for a Friday to be going to sleep, so they go to the kitchen to eat some snacks.

“I think we’ll be safe,” Ritsu tells his friend, “Brother’s a fairly early sleeper, so we shouldn’t be bothered.” Shou makes a little hells yeah and a fist to the air while Ritsu shakily reaches for the doorknob.

Seeing his shaking hand, Shou whispers conspiratorially, “I thought you said he’d be asleep by now? Are you scared you’ll run into them?”

Ritsu looks him dead in the eye. “I live with them,” said Ritsu, “So I’ve had my fair share of unfortunate midnight encounters in the living room.”

Blanching, his companion asked, “That bad? Were they, like, making out?”

“What? No. They’re too soft for that. They were feeding each other cheese and rubbing their noses together. The other time Hanazawa was threading his fingers in my brother’s hai—Ugh, gods, I don’t want to remember it.”

He opens the door anyway, and tiptoes outside of Shou’s room, said boy beside him doing the same thing. He looks around. Left. Right. Up, in case Teru did something like “We are each other’s light <3” and hung upside-down like bats or some bullfuckery like that. They weren’t anywhere in sight, thankfully. No hanging from the ceiling, either. 

They move to the refrigerator with much more relieved ease, and Ritsu downs a whole milk carton and reaches for the chips. Vegetable chips, only because Ritsu genuinely believes that his physical health might be deteriorating from Excessive TeruMob. It’d make sense. His physical body might want to be all matchy with his seventy-year-old-man-with-tuberculosis-in-1867 emotional state. 

Shou snaps him out of his physical and emotional health self-examination and asks, “So… If your house is damaged, how long will they take to fix it? Will you stay longer here, then?”

Ritsu gives it some thought. Honestly, they might be able to patch it up with some good ol’ psychic powers, but if a portion of their house was literally burnt to ashes, it’d be harder to restore than with broken pieces of rubble and misplaced objects. It’d take some time, though they’d be able to do it. But his parents most likely have someone called in to repair it (the normal way) tomorrow morning (or, well, later), so it’s safe to say that yeah, they might be camping here for a while.

But. “If I’m going to be here—”

Just as if on cue, the door to the guest room opens. Ritsu and Shou crane their heads to look behind them slowly, horror-movie-style, and look who it is.

It’s almost creepy, because it’s dark and the room’s vibes are absolutely cursed, so the image of two young boys in their nightwear, holding hands and wearing light smiles has Shou whispering holy fuck that scared me and Ritsu’s hands subconsciously coming up to engrave his palms on his face. 

It’s Teru who speaks out first. “Got milk?”

It’s going to be a long weekend.

***

“I love you, Teruki-kun…” Mob confesses.

“I love you, too! Shigeo!” Teru, in a dramatic flash, moves to hug his lover. They embrace themselves for a very long time.

They are also eating breakfast at the same dining table. Two younger boys grieve the loss of their youth as it is wasted away at the sight of such shameless romance.

***

“I’m not here. I’m not—” Mob breaks his sentence as he giggles.

Teru pokes his blanketed and unseen figure on the couch. “Hmm. Where’s my boyfriend?”

Mob peeks out from his makeshift blanket fortress. “I’m here.”

Teru beams at his lover’s cuteness and grabs his face in his hands to kiss him on the cheeks repeatedly. Mob melts at the affection like a cat bathed in warmth, and he shuffles closer, gesturing to envelope Teru along inside the blankets. 

Spectators watch the scene unfold with dreary eyes. They just wanted to get water.

***

“Are you ready?” Ritsu asks. Shou nods. They don’t want to leave the room, but they need to eat lunch sooner or later. He’d already texted the couple that they should eat ahead, but the risks of witnessing another disgusting exhibition of tender and warm and utterly revolting love are extremely high.

They open the door, and an oof is heard. The door won’t open fully; there’s a weight on it. Ritsu pales, shutting the door immediately.

“Were they kissing in front of our door?” Shou questions, horrified. Ritsu’s reply is but an exhausted groan. Shou nearly mistakes it as a deep wail for help.

Ritsu solemnly declares, “We need to go through this.”

Shou nods.

There is a loud bump on the door, followed by muffled giggling. Two young boys gradually dissipate into emotional decay as the other two flourish in the reigns of love. You could say there is balance in the world, at least.

***

On the other side of the city, someone schemes. 

The walls of this someone's room are covered in pictures, in news articles, and in red-written notes. A silhouette moves from their table, scattered in papers both crumpled and neatly stacked, and heads to the wall to place their hand on one particular picture. It is the center of everything in the room, arrows pointing violently to the person in the picture. The mysterious figure rubs its face with its thumb until the whole photograph disintegrates in a swift flash of color.

“I’m coming for you,” the person says, eyes trained toward the blank space on the wall.

And the person plots. “Reigen.”

Chapter Text

Ritsu can count with one hand only the number of people involved with his brother that don’t drive him batshit insane. 

The first is Serizawa, though he’s on thin ice for being involved with his mortal enemy, Reigen. The second is Tsubomi, who isn’t exactly close to Mob but is involved with him pretty obviously, at least in the past. She’s okay. She passes. The third and (probably) last person would be Tome, who is most likely to be his personal favorite since both of them share the exact same kind of grief—TeruMob, what’s new. Tome’s a little strange, but she’s good company.

Reason: Like now, in which Ritsu is once again fucking around in Reigen’s moldy office, Tome doesn’t bother batting an eye to Ritsu’s petty crimes. She doesn’t question his primal urge to thieve all of Reigen’s sticky note pads (useful), his destruction of all of Reigen’s self-absorbed mugs in the cabinet (Really, “Sex Symbol”? “Spirit Whisperer”? “Never Underestimate The Power Of Telelepath”? That’s not even…), nor his scribbling down of Reigone Aratatatat on the back of his desktop. Tome laughed at that last one and added a heart next to it with a matching pink highlighter. 

Anyway, he’d love to demolish more of his office supplies, but what use is his villainy if the victim isn’t even here? The conman’s an hour late. No frauds in the area thus far. Serizawa’s getting anxious (uh, more anxious), and Tome is trying to contact him on the phone. Mob is a little worried, but not so much as he would normally be because his lover is there to whisper songs of comfort much like Ritsu would mutter profanities under his breath. Disgusting. 

Finally, after some minutes of anticipation, a call rings in the office. It’s neither Tome’s nor Serizawa’s nor Mob’s; it’s the office’s. Serizawa rushes to it, hoping it isn’t just a customer or worse, the police station (best, for Ritsu), and inquires nervously, “Hello?”

A pause. Ritsu suspects it isn’t the police station. Unfortunate.

“Ghhhghhhuurghhhhh,” the voice on the other line gurghs, quite eloquently if Ritsu is asked. How expressive.

Serizawa replies in an equal fashion, “Uh.” A real sophisticated conversation.

“Katsuya,” the man drawls, leading Serizawa to blush at the sudden implication that Reigen, who is now obviously the person on the phone, is likely the following: 1) dead drunk in the goddamn morning, 2) sick, hopefully, or 3) in an unknown circumstance that calls for the use of Serizawa’s first name in a very un-sexy, droned out manner. 

“R-Reigen? What’s going on? Why’re you not in the office?” 

“I can’t. Look at our website!” Confused, his employees (feat. a seemingly disinterested Ritsu and his brother-in-law) gather around a computer to check the Spirits & Such website, where clients ask for consultations and others leave reviews on the business. It seems today that Reigen’s unfortunate situation is the result of the latter case. Everyone in the office reads the reviews left by one person, tediously branded with the username RAFSAISIAGTMHP. At least it’s got its own level of originality. 

Reigen’s voice interrupts their incredulous state through the phone, “Well, do you see it? I can’t come to the office because I know the paparazzi are probably swarming the building right now…”

At that moment, Ritsu locks his eyes with many other people in the room as they then simultaneously turn to the window, where there is, of course, no paparazzi flooding the streets and scrambling to get a statement from a fraud of a psychic business. Shocking revelation right there.

“Master, there’s no one outside,” Mob confesses. Serizawa pinches the bridge of his nose as Tome stares at the both of them in pity. Why would the press check out a conman’s psychic consultation website? When did this situation call for a scandalous article?

Reigen continues, petrified, “What? I even called the office landline in case they tracked your phones!” 

“Boss, I hate to break it to you, but that makes no sense,” Tome replies somberly. Ritsu is on the verge of death. Cause: irrepressible laughter.

For further context, the literal hate comments (that Reigen thinks are scandalous) are composed of some of the following examples:

RAFSAISIAGTMHP

reigen arataka you are a lowly unsexy flop of a man unworthy of the sex symbol title on your stupid stupid mug. fuck you 

RAFSAISIAGTMHP

ever since i caught sight of your repulsive booger face,,. just the glimpse of the shade of your hair color now gives me nausea 

RAFSAISIAGTMHP

reigen why do u wear a suit who r u trying to impress....we all know ur a stinky little goober man

RAFSAISIAGTMHP

this so-called star psychic of the 21st century is a FRAUD and he ruined my entire life

RAFSAISIAGTMHP

he doesn’t have psychic powers, i know because *i* have psychic powers.

RAFSAISIAGTMHP

he has a mug that says he’s sexy but actually he’s not that sexy. he’s ugly and he;s the worst

RAFSAISIAGTMHP

youre a fucking rat. reigen a rat aka. get a life

RAFSAISIAGTMHP

nasty filthy man he is

RAFSAISIAGTMHP

reigen arataka i hope the curse i placed on you ruins ur whole life..

RAFSAISIAGTMHP

i hate reigen arataka

RAFSAISIAGTMHP

stup]id man stupid psychic

RAFSAISIAGTMHP

rot in hell

RAFSAISIAGTMHP

did you know reigen arataka got detained for business fraud? he;s the worst man alive

Ritsu strains his eyes to read Reigen’s hate comments and finds it to be endless. That’s a lot of effort for a grudge. Ritsu himself does not agree with this method of inflicting distress as he finds it cowardly; no, he prefers to do it outright . Reigen knows Ritsu is tormenting him because Ritsu stabs him in the front like a real warrior. He may destroy his belongings when he’s not looking, but he also leaves the office with an “I broke your shit, lmao” instead of “goodbye” like a person typically would. Admit your mistakes and whatnot, you know. 

“Can you believe what this person is saying?!” Reigen sobs. Tome tries to comfort him with, “It’s okay, Boss... I don’t think you’re a lowly unsexy flop of a man,” to which Reigen screeches of course not!

Serizawa already has his phone out to prepare for a lawsuit for slander, and Mob is the only one seriously trying to converse with the musty old man on the phone. Teru is scratching his neck trying to figure out how to react to the situation and Ritsu— 

Well, Ritsu’s having the time of his life.

He unlocks his phone to write a quick comment on the website. 

Anonymous

this is so funny. btw what does RAFSAISIAGTMHP stand for?

Reigen seems to have the website open from where he’s at because the second he posts it a flurry of complaints is sent their way. “Why does this matter?! Whoever sent this should get their eyes checked! I’m sexy and not deserving of this—this persecution!”

Serizawa answers, “You’re right. Don’t worry, Reigen. I’ll make sure we catch this person!”

Teru leans toward the desk to refresh the page, and calls for everyone’s attention with wide eyes as a new comment by the perpetrator is uploaded. 

RAFSAISIAGTMHP

thank yiu for asking….. it stands for Reigen Arataka Fucking Sucks And I Swear I Am Going To Make Him Pay

At this, Ritsu fucking chokes. This is. Straight-up the funniest fucking thing he’s read in his entire life. Tome bites her lip as her head bows in what seems to be sorrow (An incorrect assumption. She is holding back peals of laughter), and his brother and Serizawa have the common decency to comfort the now-hysteric Reigen over the phone. 

He can’t wait to tell Shou about this.

***

When Ritsu gets home, the topic of Reigen’s cyberbully pops up into their dinnertime conversation. Ritsu feels the buzz of his phone from his pockets. Shou must be having a rhapsody of amusement in their text messages. He eats a little faster so he can get back to him.

“Well, what happened to the poor guy?” His mother muses, placing some meat on her plate. 

Mob frowns, because unlike Ritsu who would pay the same price of the dirty napkin he is now using to wipe fish bits off the table for Reigen’s soul, Mob is actually genuinely concerned for the man. “Serizawa-san tried to find out the person’s identity… but it’s weird. We think the culprit is an esper themself, considering how some of their traces were tampered using supernatural means,” Mob answers.

Really, if this person knows how Reigen looks and where he works, then wouldn’t it be typical of an esper to resolve this with the Incredible Power of Telekinetic Violence? It’s unusual not to. Ritsu once used it to beat anyone who messed with him to a pulp. Mob may be a pacifist, but he’s probably the one who’s caused the most casualties among them thus far. Teru was pretty much a delinquent. Serizawa… Well, he was part of a paranormal cult that sought world domination and destruction, tried to kill them, etc. See? All espers get themselves in a little bruise and blood whether they like it or not. And this person is, what, trying to rile Reigen up over the internet? Of course, that is bad, and that can be harmful, but why would they resort to that if they could just whoosh him out of existence? Especially if they knew Reigen was powerless? The more Ritsu thinks about it, the stranger it gets.

Quickly finishing off the last of his meal, Ritsu cleans up and heads to his room.

arsonist and suspected thief

gofddddfsss this is too much

repulsive booger faceeeefckvefljfjv

was anon u? 

i feel like its u

gives off the same vibes

a rat aka…….. 

truly he is quite ratful

ritsuffering

i’m back

yes anon was me

and yes reigen measures 99.9% rat actually

arsonist and suspected thief

im yodeling this is too funny

ritsuffering

good

***

Ritsu doesn’t hate the mornings. They’re fine. He’s not a morning person by any means, but he’s used to it. When he wakes up, he normally has an alarm set for himself. There are two alarms, because unless you’re absolutely heinous you’d need at least that many to open your eyes fully. So yeah, Ritsu is fully used to his normal jingle, typically from six to seven in the morning on school days. 

On this wonderful Tuesday morning, however? At four AM in the morning?

“Shh, he’ll hear you!” A familiar voice says in a very normal speaking volume, not at all whispering.

“Ritsu’s not a light sleeper. It’s okay.”

Well, shit. He sure fucking isn’t! But! How is he supposed to not wake up at the startling sound of a fucking ceiling falling apart? His stare roams the portion of his ceiling, decimated. Gone. Sayona-ruined. 

Four in the goddamn morning. 

“What the fuck are you doing in my room,” he soughs, voice raspy from sleep. Seriously. Is his room fucking Paris? Is this a date spot for idiot espers?

“Hey, we’re not idiots,” Teru retorts. Did he say that out loud? Seems he’s too sleepy.

His brother looks sheepish enough when he says, “Sorry about your ceiling, Ritsu.”

“...I don’t even want to ask—”

“Shigeo-kun and I were sleeping on his bed until I fell on the floor, so I woke up,” Teru says, gazing at Mob with fondness.

“I didn’t ask.”

“We ended up talking for a while… What we meant to each other… How much we loved one another…”

“Great. Glad to know it.” Do I not exist? What is life?

“In the end, I gave him some good night kisses... but accidentally landed one on his… lips…” The two look more flustered than Ritsu has ever seen them. Red paints their cheeks like an idyllic painting of roses in a bundle, bespattered in energetic brushes. Red also paints Ritsu’s vision like a forewarning to homicide.

Ritsu moves his hand, and the ceiling is fixed. “I am begging you,” Ritsu forwards, “to stop enkindling property damage every single time you try to wet your lips with each other’s fucking spit.”

“R-Ritsu!!!”

“Good night.”

***

RAFSAISIAGTMHP

ugliest greasiest man alive

RAFSAISIAGTMHP

reigen arataka deserves life in prisonment for being a slithery swindler

RAFSAISIAGTMHP

i hope the misfortune i cursed on you makes ur foot fall in ur own toilet u damp shit-stained peebrain

“I’m howling. I’m wailing in laughter,” Ritsu says, voice and expression passive but eyes shining in elation. Brilliant. He would award this commenter a deserving prize if he ever met them. Shou’s hair tickles his cheek as he leans his head towards Ritsu to read the expressive diatribe on his phone. Walking down the busy streets of Seasoning City, the two of them head to Reigen’s office in hopes of a worthy dramatic spectacle. Ritsu hopes the apparent curse set on Reigen hasn’t been removed yet. It would be nice to see him stumble down a staircase again. Good times.

They enter the Spirits and Such office a few minutes later, and it’s crowded. Surrounding a table are Tome, Serizawa, and Reigen, who seem to be discussing something while pointing at a desktop screen. Dimple is dimpling around the couch, like a Dimple would. Mob’s own work table, closer to where Shou and Ritsu are standing, is sat on by Teru, rapping love lines to Ritsu’s brother who is sitting down and gazing upwards at his lover with a small smile. Shigeo, I love you, you’re my only one, the light of my life, sweetie pie gumdrop chooey chooey choo.

Nothing new. 

Ritsu frowns, mostly because Reigen looks unscathed and clearly has not fallen down any staircases today. Truly unfortunate. He walks toward the trio, Shou looking around the place while following him. 

With furrowed brows in faux concern, Ritsu queries, “What happened to your curse, Reigen? Didn’t Reigen Arataka Fucking Sucks And I Swear I Am Going To Make Him Pay swear they were going to make you pay?” 

Shou is sugar-sweet, adding, “It would be great if Reigen Arataka Fucking Sucks And I Swear I Am Going To Make Him Pay did not make you pay because surely you do not ‘fucking suck.’”

Tome replies to them, gently, as if considering Reigen’s feelings, “No… Thankfully, Reigen Arataka Fucking Sucks And I Swear I Am Going To Make Him Pay did not make him pay yet.”

Serizawa shakes his head, muttering teenagers under his breath, and Reigen answers, full of repulsive charisma as always, “No need for the ‘yet.’ Given my indestructible nature and unwavering will, no curse will ever be able to lay its evil, evil hands on me, the greatest psychic of the 21st cen—”

“You have a new comment,” Shou points out. Reigen scrambles to check the page and leans forward, squinting his eyes to check the new addition.

There is none. Reigen has been, appropriately, bamboozled.

Shou smiles innocently when Reigen stares accusing eyes at him, shrugging. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m wrong, right?”

“Wrong,” Ritsu answers. Dimple snickers.

All of a sudden, Mob’s voice alerts them. “We have a new client,” he says. Said client ignores Mob’s greeting and marches toward Reigen with a dark expression. Oh, dear. Is it happening? Is it finally happening? Will Ritsu get the entertainment he so desperately longed for? An answer to his burning questions is given as the mysterious client slams his hands on Reigen’s table.

Dramatically, the man declares, “Reigen Arataka, I am going to make you pay!”

Chaos.

Wow. Where’re the chips?

Chapter Text

HOW TO LEISURELY ENJOY A FIGHT TO THE DEATH WHEN SAID CONFLICT IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU: A STEP-BY-STEP GUIDE BY KAGEYAMA RITSU

Step 1: Get Something To Eat!

Ritsu lets out an audible hum as the taste of chips encompasses his mouth. It’s got just the right balance of salty and potato-y, and the flavor is strong in the best way possible. He’d give it five out of five stars. A flavorful masterpiece. Perhaps what makes the snack especially palatable is the fact that at least seventy-two objects are floating around the room in the midst of an Epic Esper Showdown. 

The mysterious man trying to terminate Reigen like Ritsu would Teruki when he smashes a hole into his wall at four in the morning is levitating the objects while everyone stares incredulously at his unexpected appearance. The man looks especially plain, with a gray hoodie and jeans, minor character hair, minor character face, and minor character physique. Yet again in a very minor character-esque speech, he declares rather dramatically, “Reigen Arataka! You ruined my life, and now I will make you pay! With my superior and awe-inducing psychic powers, I will remove your fraudulence from this city to save it from even further corruption! Ever since you made me pay 10,000 yen for a so-called curse removal, I only suffered further pain and realized you had deceived me all along! Because of that, I awakened my powers and—”

Step 2: If They Monologue, It’s Probably Time For A Bathroom Break

Ritsu rises from his seat and shares a glance with Shou, who coincidentally was in a middle of a yawn. Great minds truly think alike. That being said, they both avoid the floating objects scattered across the room and make their way to take a quick recess while the man recites his villain origin story. He lets Shou take the first turn in the bathroom, and, while waiting, he tours the room in search of more snacks. 

Oh, a floating water bottle. Convenient.

“—I was suffering for months because of the gastrointestinal pain that wretched curse brought me, and you, Reigen Arataka, only wore a face full of fib as you lied to me about being able to fix my—”

The door opens, and Ritsu gives his snacks to Shou who greedily paws for the chips while he enters the bathroom. He might take a shit, maybe. He kind of needs it.

Ritsu finishes his satisfactory bowel movement ten minutes later. By then, the man is finally wrapping up.

Step 3: Sit Somewhere Comfortable! Back Care Is Important Too

He finds a good couch and leans back against it as he sits close to Shou. Truly they are masters of witnessing unfortunate events (TeruMob + Telekinetic Violence). Meanwhile, Tome, who isn’t as used to it yet despite being an employee of Reigen’s for months now, joins them on the couch and excitedly watches the onslaught, never tearing her eyes off them.

Reigen finally replies to the originator of his hate comments and apparent mortal enemy to Reigen, “Look, you won’t believe me, I know, but…”

Reigen looks to the side and flexes his fingers on his head in his iconic dumbass Thinker pose. Ritsu personally believes he appears to be more like an Unthinker, which would in fact be incapable of any kind of complex thought. 

Reigen shuts his eyes closed and speaks forlornly, “To be honest, that was all part of my Grand Plan.” 

There it is. Ritsu can smell Reigen’s swindling intent like he’d smell pre-haircut Serizawa’s unwashed hair from a mile away. Reigen readies his verbal guns, and Ritsu, for once, is looking forward to the Anti-Reigen blinking flusteredly at Reigen's attempt to wriggle his way out of any sort of criminal responsibility. 

Said goober man continues, “I could sense you were on the brink of awakening. The curse you were under was helping you unleash your secret potential, and I knew it. I, with my invincible power of foresight, knew it.”

Gibberish. It seems the man thinks so too, because suddenly he’s shouting and launching forward to land a hit on him, eyes burning with the relatable desire to bash Reigen’s head into a sewage canal. Unsurprisingly, Mob and Serizawa quickly intervene and put the man under control. Both are obviously strong enough to overpower him, but the man goes feral at their restraints.

Step 4: Capture The Moment… Life Is All About Making Memories

“At Spirits and Such right now,” Shou says to the phone he’s holding with an extended arm, “Shit’s going down.” Ritsu is barely at the side of the screen and gives a small peace sign. An explosion goes off in the background.

“What are you guys doing?” Tome finally turns to look at them, and the camera moves to film her. “Uh, sorry, but you have to pay an appearance fee for this face.” She quite ungracefully moves her hand to flaunt her face, giving an uncoordinated wink. 

“I needed to censor you anyway,” Shou jokes, to which Tome replies by hitting him on the shoulder. 

Shou’s video is being livestreamed on his MobTube channel titled Arson Sensory Meridian Response (ASMR) , which he of course has because Shou is apeshit insane and likes the sound of matches. Ritsu is a little concerned about this and the fact that he has at least two thousand subscribers (two thousand arsonists, probably), but he doesn’t complain because the seventy-one people joining the livestream are going absolutely wild at the prospect of “the fraud-looking man getting what he seems to deserve.”

Bad news: twenty people left the livestream because the cyberbully in the gray hoodie got knocked out. He was looking forward to more action, but what could he expect when the poor sap was facing Serizawa, Teru (who was kind of just watching), and his literal brother. 

Shou sighs, “I expected the guy to be a little stronger than that. How disappointing.”

Tome nods. “He got defeated faster than his monologue.”

Good (?) news: the people in the livestream have started to show interest in Spirits and Such, and now the comments on their website are blowing up, too. Not necessarily the good kind of interest. Most of them seem to think Reigen isn’t a fraud but dislike the fact that the business seems to be dangerous. 

ttokugawaa: I was going to go here, but it seems kind of scary now 

MARIKO: seems like the pasty lookin guy attracts a lot of trouble. imagine getting hurt and telling your doctor it was because you went to have an evil ghost removed from your living room 

Musashi Goda Fitness: isn’t that mob?! mob, if you have work complaints, remember your labor rights! 

Sun Psychic Union: Do not bother going here. If you want 100% safe and surefire removal of spirits, go to Sun Psychic Union now! Contact us at 01XXXXXXXX. 

The fight is over. Ritsu is satisfied enough. The comments on both the livestream and website are overflowing with hesitance towards the business, so he thinks he’s done enough damage to Reigen’s unsexy image now. Now Mob can finally get more time off, too. Whether or not they face some challenges now doesn’t really matter to Ritsu, since they’ve always managed to get back on track after all the other experiences they’ve faced anyway. 

The man in a gray hoodie is dragged outside the building, and the room is tidied up quickly. Serizawa claims he’ll have a restraining order on him as soon as possible, marking the end of the eventful cyberbullying incident.

Ritsu takes home some of the chips.

***

Two days later, Ritsu returns to the office. Tome is now asking him if he has any plans for working there, which he does not.

“That’s fair,” she says, flopping down relaxedly on the couch with her eyes glued to her phone. “I don’t think we have enough money to pay you anyway.”

Ritsu wears a small smile. “Sorry if you aren’t getting paid much because of me and Shou,” he says, not really all that apologetic. She knows, and she replies, “It’s fine. I think Reigen’s the only one here for the money. Mob and Serizawa are too nice to leave him alone, and I just like seeing freaky shit.”

Ritsu ignores how she called their psychokinesis freaky shit and opts to pay attention to the new wave of people coming through the door. Reigen and Serizawa are back. 

“Still no customers? This is the worst financial crisis we’ve had since my TV appearance,” Reigen bemoans. Of course, after watching the cyberbully dramatically throw shit around and go uncomfortably feral, people are more cautious of coming back to the office that the fight happened in. Usually that type of stuff never really bothered the supernatural-desensitized citizens of Seasoning City, but rumors made by some malicious commenters (mostly rivals of Reigen) sparked a wave of fear and mistrust on Reigen. Some rumors include yakuza boss Reigen (unlikely), leader of a supernatural terrorist organization like Claw (the only 'natural' that guy is is unnatural), a former criminal who evoked the wrath of previous gang members who are now hunting for his life (like the cyberbully), and a hero who works his double life at night to protect the peace of Seasoning City (no).

Anyway, the situation is pretty bad here. Ritsu rejoices a little since Mob is now actually spending time doing Normal High School Activities that aren’t involving some kind of blonde fool (either of the two is applicable to this). Mob spent time with the friends from his old school yesterday. No Teru in sight. He even went to the park with their parents today. It’s been too long since Ritsu has felt like he could actually breathe. Teru to him is like an allergy that blocks his nose no matter how hard he tries to blow it. But now? He is free. His skin looks wonderful. His eyes are bright and full of life.

The door opens and once again Ritsu realizes that no good thing lasts forever. 

Teru is holding hands with his brother while using his other hand to close the door. He looks at him lovingly for a short while until he presses a kiss to Ritsu’s brother’s ear. Mob giggles at the tickling touch of his lips and mumbles out a shy stop it, hehe! Ritsu’s face darkens in contempt. What are they doing. What are they doing by the fucking door. 

“Sweetheart!” Teru declares much like Ritsu would war. “Guess what?”

Mob smiles. “What, Teruki-kun?”

Teru shakes his head and grins. “You have to guess.”

Mob starts to seriously think for a while. Ritsu feels dread pool in his stomach. Teru pokes his brother’s nose and smiles widely. “You really don’t know?”

Good gods, Hanazawa. Don’t. Stop speaking. If Ritsu could eject him into the sun he would, but unfortunately his brother said such actions are “mean” and “spiteful”. What does he care that ejecting someone into a hot load of plasma is mean and spiteful? 

Mob laments, “I can’t think of anything…”

“I—” Teru suddenly holds his other free hand with his, voice lilting when he says, “—looooove you!”

Mob’s face goes through varying shades of red after a moment of shock at the same time Ritsu's face goes through phases of unimaginable grief. 

“Teruuu.” Mob attempts to bury his face in his hands, but as they are still intertwined with his lover’s, Teruki uses the opportunity and momentum to grab his face with his hands with gentle care. He leans forward, slowly shutting his eyes closed, and Ritsu moves his head to see how the fuck no one else is watching this unfilmed romance movie. Unfortunately, Reigen and Serizawa are filming one of their own, and Tome is on her phone, sitting uninterestedly. So it’s just him, only Ritsu who is the audience. Only Ritsu who bears the fate of watching Teruki try to kiss his brother but failing because Mob accidentally constructs a huge gush of wind that makes the door fall off out of sheer bashfulness. Teruki stumbles, and they both fall on top of each other, staring in shock and fluster and tender motherfucking love, and isn’t this a familiar sight to behold. He’s sure this has happened before. 

Ritsu interrupts them and stares down at the mingling couple on the floor. “Hey. Hey.”

Teruki looks a little embarrassed and laughs nervously. “Oh, Younger Brother-kun! What—What’s up?”

“Have this,” he says kindly, a smile present on his face but eyes implying a grim fate. He lends them a water bottle. It is empty.

“This is empty,” Teruki informs.

“Yes,” he replies.

“I—uh—I don’t think I need an empty water bottle.”

“I think you do.”

“No, I don’t think I really do?”

“I think you really do.”

“...Why?”

Ritsu’s smile does not waver. He kneels down to reach his eye level. Mob stares curiously as Ritsu converses with Teruki. Calmly, Ritsu says, “Place some of your spit in here if you can’t resist sharing it with my brother.”

That day, an office in Seasoning City explodes. The cause is unknown, but some say it was due to a psychokinetic blast made unintentionally out of pure fluster. Reigen is in crippling debt due to the previous escapade and a new one that resulted in a lawsuit from a neighbor complaining about constant property damage and noise.

Ritsu walks home, smug. Another two follow, albeit later and with an ever-present red hue across their faces.

Chapter Text

It’s Brother’s birthday. 

Ritsu clutches the small gift in his hands wrapped in blue paper and a golden ribbon, walking toward his older sibling’s door and knocking before entering. It’s nothing special, his gift. Just a few notebooks since he remembered Mob had offhandedly commented how his current ones are running out of space. Before going in, he notes the scent of Mob’s favorite breakfast in the air and smiles to himself, reminded of their little dinner party in the house this evening.

Unfortunately, the smile is immediately wiped away from Ritsu’s face for two reasons:

One, the remembrance of Te-fucking-ru being invited to said dinner party, which Ritsu can foretell will be a meal with less eating and more canoodling and flirting on the goddamn dinner table. Lamentably, just as Ritsu’s parents arranged the party, they also invited him without Mob even having to ask, because, you know, they think their little passages of ‘oooh Shigeo you are my dearest baby sunshine buttercup bunny honey boo!’ and ‘oooh Teruki-kun you are so cheesy, hehe!” are actually cute and endearing. (Well, Ritsu might be exaggerating it, but aside from the initial onomatopoeias, the rest of the lines are, quite unbelievably, true.)

Two, upon opening the door Ritsu is promptly faced with the most disturbing scene he’s ever seen so fucking far, and he kids not, it is spine-chilling. Teruki (who of course is sleeping over once again, what’s new) is on top of his brother on their bed (note the use of their, not his, because it’s both their fucking bed now, given how often Teru stays there), hands on both sides of Mob’s head. Wearing a matching set of blushes and wide, youthful eyes, the lovers whip their heads to Ritsu’s entrance, speechless. Romantic, right? Cute, even? 

No! Fuck! No! It fucking isn’t! Why is Teruki fucking bald??!?

Ritsu watches with brows so furrowed they make an inverted ‘V’, wrinkles creasing his forehead. His lips are parted to show his gritted teeth as the two scramble off each other and get off the bed with flustered movements. Mob has his hands intertwined in front of his body, fidgeting and looking down on the floor. Teruki…

Gods, Teruki. 

His head is shaved entirely bald, reflecting the morning sun from the open windows with an almost offensive gleam. Ritsu feels both relieved and horrified—relieved that this time his clothes are on him (or else Ritsu might’ve killed him on the spot for the crime of being an unwilling exhibitionist) and horrified that he’s seeing Teruki looking shoujo-shade red and shy, which is not exactly the most comparative image to someone whose head is shining nearly inhumanely (how is it shining that much?). 

Before any of the two lovers can even explain, Ritsu closes his eyes and whispers, “Don’t. I don’t. Need to know.”

Teruki opens his mouth. Ritsu interrupts, “I don’t need to know.”

He closes the door.

He doesn’t need to know.

***

Of course, he’s forced to fucking know anyway, because he’s cursed and will never escape the unending narrative of ♡TeruMob♡ Making His Life A Flowery Hell. 

“There was something I had to get on Shigeo’s bed. Shigeo was in front of me, though, and I ended up losing my balance,” Teruki explains over breakfast. Ritsu puts his spoon down to engrave his palms on his face. He continues, eyes and smile tender, “And he was so flustered that he just blasted all my hair off, haha!” 

“T-Teruki-kun!” Mob exclaims, blushing wildly and eyes never leaving his paramour. Ritsu deepens his palms into his face in hopes of removing himself from existence. 

Teruki suddenly holds Ritsu’s brother’s hands in his, declaring, “It’s okay, Shigeo! I guess I can’t help falling for you!”

Ritsu screams into his palms. No one notices, because everyone else is immersed in the romantic atmosphere that Ritsu wants to shatter into itty-bitty pieces.

If Mob’s birthday breakfast is this painful, he can’t even imagine how much worse it’ll be during dinnertime. He finishes his food quickly and dashes out of the house with tired eyes spelling out MURDER. 

He sees a familiar orange tuft of hair from a distance, relaxing a little bit upon ascertaining Shou’s presence by the convenience store. He trudges over to him with a greeting of good morning.

“Wow, you look like shit!” Yeah! He sure fucking feels like it, too!

“I look like,” Ritsu responds, a soulless smile wearing itself on his emotionally beat-up face, “I walked into a room where two idiots in love were on the bed in the ‘oh, it’s not what you think!’ pose.” Ritsu’s voice lilts in the mimicry, and Shou snorts.

“Haven’t you walked into that, like, thirteen million times?”

“He was bald, Shou.”

Shou’s eyes squint. “What?”

Ritsu sighs.

***

Today is not the best day, Ritsu would admit, so he goes to Spirits and Such after his student council meeting was postponed in order to recharge. Shou tags along because he has nothing else to do, and, thankfully, the two lovey-dovey menaces aren’t there yet. 

“So you just mess with his pens?” Shou asks, unfamiliar with his methods of destruction as he’s only been there with him as his companion to watch Reigen’s anticipated demise. “That’s some weak shit.”

Ritsu raises a brow. “Have some ideas?”

He smiles. “Yep.”

***

Reigen returns to their office with Serizawa and Dimple in tow, clothes a little dirtied from their recent expedition. Unfortunately, their recent clients’ supernatural issues weren’t supernatural at all, so he’s been stuck doing menial work like literal farming, which he just did a moment ago. Well, not like Reigen is complaining. He never does. It’s money, and it’s certainly nothing new; more than half of his clientele don’t actually require any real supernatural help, just a good ol’ massage, a helping hand, or one of his Special Moves. He has good salt and even better fists. 

Still, it’s odd how they haven’t gotten any real calls for help for an entire month. The first week after that kid did his darned stream or whatever it’s called, his customer count was a hapless zero. Nothing. Nada. It rose little by little, and now they’re starting to get back to their usual amount of clients. He’s in debt. Both because of the lack of customers and because his high schoolers decided to blow up the whole place, and the neighbors evidently did not like that. 

When he enters the office and sees Ritsu, he knows, with a little twitch on his face, that he probably needs to get some new supplies again. He likes the kid, but he wishes he could project his teen rebellion to other outlets like, uh, hobbies, maybe. Still, Reigen’s an adult, and this is what middle schoolers do, so he just plays along with his bickering with some bemusement.

“Your brother’s not here yet?” Serizawa asks.

Ritsu shakes his head. “He’s still in school,” he says, then scrunches up his face like he’s remembered something gross. “With Hanazawa.”

Reigen chuckles at his attitude. “You know, one day, you’re probably going to be in a relationship, too—” 

Stopping abruptly—and not intentionally—Reigen looks down to the table he placed his hand on with a startled look. 

Shou frowns, whispering to Ritsu, “Did he notice our makeshift fart chair pad?” 

Ritsu dons a similar look of disappointment. 

But Reigen isn’t staring at their fart pad; he’s looking at the colorful mush of goo connecting his hand to the table. He pulls on it, trying to get the sticky sludge off his hand, but he fails. Serizawa, alarmed, approaches him. “What is that?”

Out of instinct, Reigen looks to the duo of middle schoolers in the room to find the culprit, but they’re surprised, too. Curious, Ritsu steps forward to take a closer look, and when he does, he feels it. 

“Isn’t that…” Ritsu trails off to look at the substance on Reigen’s table, which is now, quite disgustingly, throbbing like a live being.

“It’s a curse,” Shou continues for him. The goo wasn’t there when both of them were messing with Reigen’s things, but for it to be there when Reigen arrived…

“I’ve never placed a curse before,” remarks Ritsu, mostly speaking to himself in interest, “so I don’t know how it works.” 

Shou nods. “Me neither.”

Serizawa squints and touches the goo. His finger sinks in, but with a quick flash of light, the goo disappears thanks to Serizawa’s psychokinesis. (Shame, Ritsu thinks.) Reigen rolls his shoulder and stares at his hand. Not the most pleasant feeling.

“That was probably just the cyberbully’s doing,” Reigen says, after a moment of thought. “He did mention about a curse in his… comments.”

Serizawa nods in agreement. 

Reigen sighs dramatically and stretches his fingers across his forehead, eyes closed. “I guess this is what I get for being so popular.”

Serizawa sighs heavily, with an immensely different level of agreement compared to his reply: “Yes.”

***

Ritsu’s lips turn downward, and Shou notices immediately. “What’s up?”

Ritsu replies, “Just goo? The curse is as boring as his monologue.” Shou gives a short laugh at his response. 

Really, if he was going to plot revenge against the conman, he could’ve, I don’t know, committed arson? Shit, wait, I’m turning into Shou.

Shou says, forlorn, “He should’ve just committed arson.”

Ritsu looks at him, horrified.

“What?” Shou asks. Ritsu just shakes his head. 

The fact that he might be a smidge close to becoming one of Shou’s MobTube following of arsonists aside, Ritsu watches Reigen with some disappointment. Not because he found out the little prank they left on the chair (“You guys are insufferable.” “No, I’m Shou. Don’t know about this guy, though.”) but because the curse he was waiting for to be inflicted on Reigen did not, in fact, constitute Reigen, for any reason possible, in jail. But Ritsu supposes that good things happen only once, even though he didn’t actually get jailed that time. Ritsu also supposes that a weak esper like the cyberbully never would’ve been able to inflict a harmful curse on anyone at all.

But, well, you know the drill. Ritsu is always, always wrong, and that statement is easily proved that day to be very false. 

It happens like this.

Teruki (bearing a six-foot-tall wig) and Mob enter hand-in-sweaty-hand, and Ritsu is ready to leave immediately. He and Shou are about to cross paths with the couple, until Shou digs his feet into a fat fucking mop of goo that materialized on the floor like a landmine, and he trips, falling forward. Ritsu saves him with a quick burst of his powers (which was unneeded because Shou did the same to himself, but still), and Shou consequently manages to salvage his face which is now inches away from the floor. Unfortunately, the goo linking the floor to his foot, which is slightly elevated up in the air, formed a sort of obstacle that caused Mob to trip, falling on top of—

Gods, gods, gods, nope, no, fuck, shit, no—

Teruki.

And Ritsu just had to think the curse wasn’t harmful. If that cyberbitch thought his curse fulfilled his revenge against Reigen, he’s motherfucking wrong, because the only person in shambles here is Ritsu, who is once again looking at the most sickening, gut-churning scene in romantic history for the second time today and the five hundred thousandth time in his entire godforsaken life.

Shou doesn’t know what’s happening until he evaporates the goo with his powers and floats himself back up to stand straight. Unfortunately, the first thing he sees after finally standing up is TeruMob, so he hums in what Ritsu believes is the complete opposite of delight and reiterates his previous stance, which is faceplanting into the floor tiles. 

Ritsu is readier than ever to join Shou in whatever coping mechanism he just invented, but he also wants more than anything to just leave, so he bids a kind farewell (“Please never talk to me again.”) to the occupants of the room, Shou standing up weariedly. 

As they walk out the streets outside Spirits and Such, Shou speaks with a tone so somber that anyone listening in would’ve thought someone just died (Damn right! His wits are fucking gone! Peaced the fuck out of there the moment Mob and the goo came into contact!), “Ritsu. It was nice knowing you.”

“What?” came in a shaky voice. Ritsu sounds like he’s crying. Maybe he is. Maybe he’s lost it.

“I’m going to miss you, Ritsu.” 

Ritsu feels unadulterated fear. Before he can even ask what he means, he continues, “I don’t think you’re going to live after that dinner party. A whole meal with them? That’s far too many minutes to be in the same vicinity as them.”

Ritsu's face is the emotional equivalent of an open wound—raw, painful, and prone to the infection that is romance.

***

“Dad,” Ritsu starts, tired and half-dead already. The TeruMob couple is already on the dining table, and his father is still preparing the food in the kitchen. The older Kageyama spares a glance at him while mixing the soup carefully.

“Yes, Ritsu?”

“Can I,” he asks, “not?” 

See, Ritsu isn’t very coherent. It seems his father thinks so, too. 

“What?”

“Can I not?”

“Not what, Ritsu?”

“Join the dinner party.”

Ritsu’s father startles at his words. Instead of being angry, though, he’s dumbfounded. “Why not? You even baked the birthday cake! I thought you were excited for this!”

Yeah, but there’s a rat on the table, he wisely does not say, because his parents very much adore said rat.

“Nevermind.”

Ignoring his dad’s confused look, he trudges to the table and glares at the offending couple. His mother ‘awww’s at them while they blush even more in response. Ritsu would rate this experience a 0/10. Not That Good, really. Terrible, even.

When all the food is finally on the table, they give their gratitude for the food and begin eating. Here is a list of things Ritsu encountered and very much wishes he could cleanse his eyes of:

1. “Say aaah,” Teruki says to his motherfucking lover. Ritsu would say aaah as well, but in an entirely different manner. Preferably in a ‘piercing cry expressing great emotional pain’ manner.
2. “You have something on your lips, Teruki-kun.” Ritsu stops chewing his fish to shut his eyes closed. Fucking don’t, he thinks. Unfortunately, they ‘fucking do’. He hears them giggle and suppresses his urge to stab his utensils into Teruki’s blue eyes.
3. If the two of them think they’re being subtle about holding each other’s hands under the table, then Ritsu would like to tell them no, you’re not fucking subtle, you’re literally giggling while sending each other glances every five seconds, I’m begging you to fucking stop, on gods I’m going to disembowel myself on this table.
4. “This is so good!” Teruki exclaims while eating Ritsu’s cake. He did not need to add, “It’s just as sweet as Shigeo’s laugh!” but he did anyway. Ritsu smiles back. The action brings him tremendous agony.
5. “I’ll miss you,” laments Mob, voice muffled into Teruki’s shoulder as they hug in the hallway. Teruki is close to tears. Ritsu is as well. “It’s okay, Shigeo. We’ll see each other soon.” Well, Ritsu would fucking guess so, since Mob is literally just taking a goddamn shower, but okay! Sure! Say your farewells and get it over with because Ritsu would like to enter his fucking room, of which the door is, in fact, being blocked by these two cuddling lovers! Ritsu is about to blow the whole house up until they finally part ways, slow-motion and very dramatically.

***

arshounist

gods

can’t believe my friend is fucking dead

ripsu

i didn’t even say anything

arshounist

okay ‘ripsu’

ripsu

...

you’ve made your point.

arshounist

i’m sure i have

how was it

wait

don’t answer that

i know

ripsu

yes

also

how long will i be imprisoned for if i

hypothetically speaking

arshounist

what

ripsu

commit murder

arshounist

for life 

ripsu

damn, hate the law, what is it even for

arshounist

lmaoosdfdsj

see u at ur funeral, u sad sap

Chapter Text

Shou is someone special to Ritsu. 

This is a fact that's more surprising than Ritsu would think. He has many friends, sure. But most of these friendships are at worst superficial and at best surface-level. This is because many people know him as Ritsu, the responsible and reliable leader, good at everything from smarts to sports to student council. These are all Ritsu, but it is not all of Ritsu.

Yet Shou sees him in all his dimensions. He can open these dimensions, Ritsu finding himself more candid to him than any of his other middle school classmates. And that's why Ritsu treasures his relationship with Shou, because he's already seen all sides of him, already accepted all sides of him. 

It's the same vice versa. Ritsu has seen Shou as someone who's caused his brother pain, someone who's cynical, someone who's silly, and someone who's there for him. They've shared blood and tears and smiles and high-fives.

So maybe, just maybe, with all the fondness he stores deep in his heart for Shou, friend and ally, with all the patience he has solely for him, just maybe... he can try to understand why the utter living fuck he's filming the raging fire in the fucking kitchen. 

"Shou?!" Ritsu cries. Frying an egg has never been deadlier. Or hard. Gods forbid Shou wouldn't wield fire like a kleptomaniac wouldn't steal, like an arsonist wouldn't commit arson.

Ritsu's pleading shouts are met with nothing but Shou's calm whispers to his 5-foot long microphone. 

"Hey, guys... Welcome back to my ASMR channel... Today, we're going to be hearing the sounds of the fire in my kitchen. I know you've been waiting for another egg burn—"

"Another?" Is that why the alarm wasn't being triggered?? Did he set his fucking apartment against fire safety protocols???

"So here's a video I managed to luckily film." Shou moves his mouth away from the mic to turn his head towards Ritsu. "Ritsu. Be quiet." 

Ritsu stares at him. 

He'll treasure his relationships later. For now, he calculates a good angle to bash Shou's head with a rock. Where's a good rock, huh? A neat good rock for a neat good crack on his head, hm? 

Shou continues, "I'll get a little closer to the fire now. As always, you don't have to worry about me because I'm actually firepro—"

Fwoooosh! Ritsu extinguishes the fire with his powers. Maybe he should've used an actual fire extinguisher. Heavy, hard, head-prone. You are not, after all, immune to fire extinguisher to head.

"Ritsu! What the fuck!" Shou did not exclaim; whispered would be a more appropriate word as he was still adamant about filming an ASMR clip in the midst of a noontime crisis. 

"Please stop. Stop filming. I'm going to choke to death."

"We're espers. You won't die even if I poured gasoline on you right now.” Shou pauses. “Wait, should I?"

There is suddenly a rock between Ritsu's fingers. "Shou?"

He snickers. "You don't seem to like the idea." 

Ritsu obviously does not. Is it so much of a surprise that he does not, in fact, enjoy being set on fucking fire? Either way, at least Shou's put down his filming equipment. No casualties except for the poor egg, now burnt beyond recognition. 

There must be a dent forming on Ritsu's nose from how often he pinches it with his fingers. "Was it truly necessary to burn a kitchen down for clout? Huh, Shou?" Ritsu asks, genuinely afraid for his answer. Sometimes he thinks his friend might be an attention arsonist. Like a whore but more lethal.

“You should’ve expected it if you were going to sleep over at my place,” replies Shou. Much to Ritsu’s dismay, he can’t say anything back because he’s right. He does know about Shou’s concerning criminal tendencies. (Ritsu swears he’ll one day solve the mystery of wherever the fuck Shou gets his limitless stash of finances.)

Yesterday, Ritsu spent his time with Shou and decided to sleep over, thankfully without any certain couples kissing on the couch or in the bathroom or by the door to Shou’s room. But life doesn’t happen how you’d expect it to be. Fires don’t happen how you’d expect them to be. Ritsu wonders if he’s cursed to that experience whenever he goes to Shou’s apartment, whether the fire is at his place or here. 

Either way, Ritsu supposes the pros greatly outweigh the cons. Pros being not having to witness TeruMob’s four-hundredth sleepover at his place. Ritsu doubts it has been even four hundred days since they first met. Unfortunately, even if it hasn’t, there has been an absurd amount of sleepovers surpassing the number of days they’ve actually known each other. A tragic fact that defies logic. 

Ritsu shakes his head to remove all thoughts of a couple that is, for once, miraculously not here. (And is that not a ridiculous thought—that it would need to be miraculous for them not to be in every breathing second Ritsu is alive?)

Near the door, Shou slips his shoes on, ready to head to a nearby cafe for breakfast because someone couldn’t fry an egg without risking fire-related-injury-slash-death. Ritsu sits to tie his shoelaces, Shou waiting for him by the door. They advance outside, and the sun is more blinding than Ritsu’s eagerness to walk in the scalding summer heat yet less blinding than the consistently sparkly aura surrounding TeruMob.

“By the way,” Shou starts, lifting a hand to block the sunlight. They should’ve worn sunglasses. “Did Reigen really con that goo guy? The cybercunt?” 

Ritsu, preoccupied with his own summer worries, has nearly forgotten about the incident from several weeks ago. Gazing distantly, he gives it a little thought. It’s hard to explain. Reigen lied to his brother, lied (still lies) to many people, but Ritsu, loathe he would admit, actually believes that Reigen is a good person—a helpful one. He answers, “Reigen isn’t the type of person who’d steal or cheat people.”

Shou trips on the sidewalk. “Woah, is this Ritsu I’m talking to?”

Ritsu glares at him. He continues, anyway, “Yes, yes, I’ve called him a fake. But he’s—a helpful fake. For him, a good psychic is someone who listens to people’s problems and solves them with whatever means physically possible, and Reigen—he genuinely wants to help them.”

Ritsu pauses before Shou looks at him as if telling him to go on. “Well, I mean—What I’m trying to say is that—His prices are dirt cheap in comparison to, like, other exorcists, and he doesn’t take money he feels like he hasn’t earned, and if the problem really is a ghost, then he gets Brother to do it, even though he pays him with... seeds sometimes, but you get what I mean.”

“I do,” replies Shou, but his voice and his smile are laced with an amusement that Ritsu wants to break into eensy-weensy pieces. Hm. Where’s his rock?

Before Ritsu can commit first-degree murder, his feet stop in its tracks as he spots something repulsive. A familiar feeling of dread encases Ritsu’s body and sends chills down his spine. No. No. Is it...  

Seeing his eyes shake, Shou, extremely worried and presumably suffering from post-traumatic ‘sweetiepie!’ disorder, asks, “T-TeruMob?”

Ritsu turns to look at him. “No,” he answers, “But it’s just as bad.”

Just by the window of the cafe the two teenagers meant to enter are Serizawa and Reigen, standing up and grabbing their things. The older duo moves to leave, and just as Reigen’s grimy little feet exit the cafe door, Ritsu, ready to bully a grown adult, exclaims, “Jesus fuck I thought that was a rat!”

Shou chokes on his spit; Ritsu’s eyes don victory. Serizawa looks exasperated, and Reigen—

Reigen, stumbling on his own two feet and hastily grabbing the decorative plant near the cafe entrance like a weapon equipped for war, yells, “Where?!”

Ritsu looks confused at first, but his eyes change to mock the man. “I meant you. My apologies. Thought you were a rat.”

Lowering the pitiful plant, Reigen narrows his eyes spitefully. Serizawa sighs and grabs Reigen’s arm before the two wrangle on the street, dragging him elsewhere. As Ritsu and Shou are left alone, they enter the cafe.

Shou looks at him with a smile that makes Ritsu want to step on his foot. “You think he’s a good person, but—”

“But a purely ratful slice of shit. A Grade-A piece of greasy waste, if you must,” Ritsu says, refusing to look at his companion. Shou snickers anyway. 

They eat their breakfast in comfortable company.

***

Elsewhere, another pair of teenage boys rest under the shade of a tree, blades of grass tickling their thighs. The morning is perfect for a picnic date—the warmth of the sun is just right, the scattered hubbub of conversations in the park is not too distracting, and the lovers, content and free, have each other. Intertwined hands laying on the valley of where their thighs meet, Teruki places his free hand on top of both of theirs and calls Mob’s name fondly. Mob turns to look at him, and they share a smile. 

No words are exchanged during this precious moment of intimacy until Mob’s eyes light up. Teruki notices this change, asking, “What’re you thinking about?”

His lover looks worried. Before the blonde can throw him another question, he responds, “I haven’t thought of what to do for Ritsu’s birthday yet.”

Teruki’s eyes widen. “Oh, yeah! It’s soon, right?” Shifting his body so that it faces his partner, he laments, “Aw, I haven’t prepared a gift for him yet.”

After a few seconds of thought, Mob’s face brightens. “Hey, Teruki-kun, how about we buy gifts for him together?”

“Oh! Sounds good!” Then, humming, Teruki ponders, “The cake he made for your birthday was really good. We should get something equally enjoyable as thanks.”

Excited to give his younger brother a pleasant birthday, Mob nods with a smile.

***

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Ritsu’s alarm pulls him from the heavy tethers of sleep as he limply waves his arm around to turn it off. Groaning, he sits up and notes the soft noise resonating across the house. He squints at his phone screen as he tries to read his notifications, rubbing his eyes and pulling the phone closer to his face. Two things remind him of something important: the smell of his favorite breakfast and notifications on his lock screen he managed to read with vision blurry from sleep.

arshounist (13 messages)

happy birthday!!

Chapter Text

Adjusting the last button on his school uniform, Ritsu takes a quick glance at himself in the mirror and readies to eat breakfast. He grabs his vibrating phone, Shou persistently sending a multitude of texts (probably more variations of how to say happy birthday, prime examples being happy removal day you overgrown cyst! or happy extracted from the womb day!) as if he hadn’t already been texting him at midnight. Ritsu had sighed when he first saw the notifications, knowing full well that Shou’s prepared a round two of stupid ways to greet him. 

And Ritsu sighs once again; just after waking up, he’ll inevitably have to face the ruination that is TeruMob. He didn’t bother to check last night, and even though he wasn’t there for dinner (stole Reigen’s credit card and bought himself and Shou a grand meal at MobDonald’s), Ritsu knows with all his experience, intellect, and soul that Teruki would never miss a dinner at the Kageyama household. It’s like a Snapmob streak. A daily log-in bonus. 

But perhaps that’s why Ritsu regains his smile at the thought. Today, he’ll finally break Teruki’s months-long dinner combo/streak/attendance. That’s fucking right. Ritsu’s favorite gift today, despite not having received anything tangible just yet, is the fact that his wish to have Shou instead of Teruki for tonight’s dinner was granted a few days ago. Although he’ll have to grit through breakfast, after that is a day without contemplating homicide. 

Walking his way to the dining room, Ritsu receives his parents’ greetings and gifts and enjoys his breakfast. However, when Brother comes out of his room, Ritsu raises a brow suspiciously. He’s… alone. Seeing him alone at this hour is odd because Teruki and his brother are like a two-in-one shampoo-conditioner: unavoidably together and harmful to the eyes. Where’d that pissful rat—

Nevermind. He’s probably in the bathroom doing gods know what. Again. Three weeks ago, Teruki came out of Brother’s room late because—like a fast-paced comedic skit—he slipped on the hand soap, proceeded to break the faucet with his skull, attempted to fix it with his powers, and made everything worse because he didn’t know how the pipes worked. There were many apologies and wet floors soon after. Ritsu found that morning very funny. 

Anyway, Ritsu savors the moment he gets to spend with Brother sans his piss-haired accompaniment. 

“I got this for you,” his brother says, bright-faced but a little timid. “I didn’t really know what you’d like since you always answered me so vaguely every time I asked, so I hope I chose something you actually do like.”

Ritsu can’t help the smile that blooms on his face. He had answered anything from you is a good gift when Brother asked, and, well, maybe that was a little vague. Vague, but the truth nonetheless. 

“I’m sure I will,” Ritsu replies. With excited eyes, he struggles to unwrap the gift neatly, and his father ends up lending him a pair of scissors to cut the tape. Ritsu’s hands carefully reveal the bundled-up present: a book titled…

Ritsu squints his eyes. What does this say? 

Pulling it closer to his face, Ritsu finally reads it. 

“Ah, I just thought you might want it because you’ve been really into it recently.” Brother, who probably mistook his inability to read as a lukewarm reaction, stutters out an explanation, “I know you’ve been looking up your recipes online and using the kitchen whenever you’re not busy, so… I just thought a cookbook might be a good gift.”

Ritsu’s eyes are sparkling, but he’s too speechless to say anything. 

Brother continues, “It’s okay if you don’t like it or anything! I mean, I still have the receipt so you can always exchange—”

“I love it, Brother,” Ritsu finally says, hoping his sincerity reaches his words. He does love it. He never made it obvious that he was developing a new hobby for baking, so he’s touched that his brother paid such close attention to him. It makes his heart warm, and he’s sure he’ll make good use of the gift.

At Ritsu’s response, his brother beams, and they talk about the contents of the book animatedly.

His father, however, interrupts their conversation with concerned eyes. “Ritsu, you had to squint to read the title of that cookbook, didn’t you?”

Brother perks up. “Oh, you did. Ritsu, do you usually have a hard time seeing nowadays?”

Ritsu stops to think about it. Did he? Well, he has been trying to pull his phone closer to his face when reading Shou’s texts recently. “Uh, kind of?”

His mother sits and joins the trio, coming from the kitchen where she overheard their conversation. “Let’s set an appointment with the optician, then. Bad eyesight runs in your father’s side of the family, you know.”

Frowning, Ritsu picks at his breakfast, nodding anyway. He knows it’s natural for anyone to have shitty eyes, but it’s not exactly good news. He forces his eyes to read the text from the cookbook on the table, ultimately struggling. Damn. He should’ve savored life with good eyesight when he had it.

Noticing her younger son’s downturned lips, Ritsu’s mother turns to Brother to change the topic. “Shigeo, where’s Teruki? Is he not here today?”

Somehow, the mood in the table worsens, startling the older Kageyama. Ritsu scowls at the word like she swore at him, and Brother’s face darkens noticeably. However, Ritsu’s scowl is quickly replaced by curiosity and surprise at his brother’s own face.

Now, Ritsu isn’t exactly the best psychoanalyst, but he knows clearly when his older brother lies. Yes, because they’re close, etcetera, etcetera, but also because he’s a shit liar.

“Oh, we—” Brother purses his lips, eyes shifting here and there. “He had… something to do.”

“Is that so? When’re you guys meeting then? Will he walk you to school?” His mother questions.

“No, uh.” It’s summer, but Ritsu knows his brother isn’t sweating because of that. “He—We haven’t talked recently, so I don’t—don’t know… He’s just busy today.”

See, Ritsu hates to admit it, but he’s kind of become a master of relationships (specialty: TeruMob) after involuntarily bearing witness to them for months on end. So he knows what’s going on here. He knows. 

For the ignorant, here is a rough translation of what was just said (credit: Kageyama Ritsu, 15, romance virtuoso): No, we won’t walk together to school. We haven’t talked recently because we just had a lovers’ quarrel. We are now at the stage where we avoid one another.

Yeah.

So this is why Ritsu hasn’t seen the faucet-breaker gallivanting around the house. Good! Well, terrible for them, but good that the house is rat-free. 

Nevertheless, as Ritsu stares at his melancholic brother who is now gazing at the window with longing eyes and probably a wistful, tear-jerking monologue in his head, he realizes that maybe he should take this chance to commit homicide after all. What are the repercussions? Jail? Probably, but at least not a completely unhappy brother.

Bidding goodbye to his parents, Ritsu decides to focus his energy on cheering him up. Before he can say anything, though, Shou appears at the front of his house, waving with a silly smile. 

As soon as the redhead opens his mouth, Ritsu shuts his eyes tiredly, prepared for the oncoming wave of idiocy.

“Ritsu!” Shou yells, and Ritsu stares at him with aged eyes. “Congrats on sliding out of the pussy chute!”

Ritsu scowls for the seven hundredth time this week. “You idiot. What if I was born through a C-section.”

Wait. Shit. As if Shou would know what a C-section is. He curses himself inwardly for his mistake.

“I meant the Cesarean delivery, by the way,” he tries. Brother looks at both of them pitifully. 

Shou asks, “Like the salad?” 

Ritsu looks close to committing assault. In fact, the only thing resisting his urge to throw a potted plant onto Shou’s ribs is his brother, who is now staring at him knowingly and patting him on his shoulder as if to tell him to let it go. The only thing he wants to let go of right now is his restrained compulsion to punt Shou into a nearby ditch. 

Anyway, no felonies are committed. For now.

***

Late afternoon, and still no felonies. Ritsu pats himself on the back for such well-handled restraint.

Now, Ritsu and Shou are heading back after finishing their respective club activities, talking about the upcoming dinner party at Ritsu’s house.

“We still have time before we eat,” Shou remarks, voice slightly raised to let his voice be heard in the bustling streets of Seasoning City. “I’ll buy you a cake since someone wouldn’t let me bake it for you.”

“Shou, I care about fire safety protocols.”

“And I care about my subscribers, who are, unlike some people, loyal to a degree.”

Ritsu deadpans. “The only degree they’re involved in is two hundred forty-six degrees celsius.”

Shou’s eyes light up much like he would a lighter. “Oh, burning point?”

What the fuck. “How do you know this but not the Cesarean delivery?”

“Seriously, I thought you were talking about the salad. Or, like, the guy who got backstabbed,” Shou admits.

“What?” Ritsu thinks for a second and then looks at Shou like he’s lost it. “Julius Caesar?”

Shou nods speedily. “But I guess he got uterus-stabbed instead of backstabbed, huh? The delivery he got was an untimely death.”

Ritsu can’t help but laugh at that one. Then, he realizes, “Wait, are you implying he was trans?” I mean… king shit!

But Shou looks at him in shock. Ritsu looks at him in shock. “Do you think we have uteruses?”

When Shou doesn’t say anything in reply, he asks again, for the sake of his sanity, “Shou?” Ritsu doesn’t think they’ve ever missed basic human anatomy in their curriculum. Wait, did Shou even go to school? Did he forge the proof of his being homeschooled? 

Shou looks to the sky, pretending to be wise. “Uterus this, uterus that. What matters is that I’m buying you a cake, and you will not complain.”

He doesn’t.

***

Shou bought him a cake that was impressively flavored burnt orange. Ritsu himself has tried a slice of it several weeks ago, so what he’s actually impressed with is the fact that Shou bought it. 

“Shou,” he starts. “Are you aware that you just bought a cake similar to yourself?”

Shou, confused, asks, “You said it was your favorite among the given flavors in the bakery!”

“Well, yeah,” he responds, suddenly feeling defensive for some ungodly reason. “I didn’t like any of the other flavors there. That’s all.”

Shou smirks. “Or is it because it reminded you of me?”

Ritsu stumbles over his words, a little uncharacteristic of him. Before he can say anything intelligible, though, Shou interrupts with eyes full of mischief, “Awww. Do you wuv me?”

Ritsu steps on his foot.

As Shou howls, Ritsu notices something off from a distance. Two figures are in front of his house, but he can’t see who it is. Cursing his apparently worsening eyesight, he asks, “Shou, who are those?”

“Huh?” Shou is still whimpering from the pain, but he manages to answer, “Oh, it’s your most behated.”

“That’s not a word,” Ritsu corrects, right before deeply lamenting the situation, “Fuck.”

With great reluctance, they walk toward the couple, who for some fucking reason hasn’t noticed their arrival despite being only a few meters away from them. No, they’re too busy filming the world’s most dramatic conversation. It has everything you need in such a scene: overly tense silence, expressions serious enough you’d think this was a thriller instead of a high school romance, and the fact that they’re doing this outdoors without noticing the people passing by giving them strange looks. Indeed, what the fuck are they doing. Is this a staring contest?

Shou hums a song that Ritsu discerns is the background music of the suspenseful TV series they watched at their last sleepover. It fits.

Finally, Teruki breaks the silence much like he once broke a sink. “I… I did it because I love you.”

The blond’s face is stricken with anguish, his (ex…?) boyfriend’s with woe. Said woeful teenage boy replies, voice strained, “Y—Your love… It hurt.”

What! What fucking hurt! You are sixteen! What the fuck is going on!

Shou stops him from walking toward their drama (from murder) with amused eyes and a shake of a head. No. He doesn’t want to watch their fucking dispute. Why does his teenage brother speak about romantic heartbreak like he’s had decades of experience from it? 

And then Teruki actually sheds tears. He cries. “I… I’m sorry if it did. I should’ve listened to you, but I couldn’t help it.”

What happened? Wait, wrong question. Can they go inside now? Ritsu begs his companion with his eyes. 

Shou responds, in eye-to-eye communication, No.

The drama continues. 

“No, I’m sorry.” Mob steps forward and rests his head on Teruki’s shoulder to hide his tears. “I really missed you.”

Teruki’s snot is running down his nose. “Me, too.” As if that wasn’t enough to shed years off Ritsu’s life, he adds, “My honey bunny sugar boo.”

He’s about to fucking wretch.

“Okay, that’s it,” Ritsu interrupts. If he has to listen to more of this he might just succumb to a life of grisly crime. 

“O-Oh, Ritsu!” His brother exclaims. Teruki is wide-eyed, taking a surprised step backward from his lover.

Before Ritsu can verbally assault his brother-in-law, Shou drags him by the hand and to the house. Ritsu spitefully manages a you’re not invited, by the way to Teruki as he passes by them. Undeterred, the blond greets him with a happy birthday and comments how his gift is with his brother.

***

Ritsu is truly proud of himself for not committing assault and/or homicide today. It’s the greatest, bravest achievement he’s accomplished in his life. 

He helps his parents set the table and the food, Shou opening the cake box to put it on display for the pictures. His brother comes in a few minutes later (thankfully without the blue-eyed fucking wonder), and they’re finally ready to eat.

A few conversations are made here and there, but what makes the icing on the cake for being the worst topic-changer is his father’s question.

“By the way, Shigeo,” he begins. “What made you late to dinner?”

Ritsu’s spoon pauses mid-air. Shou is horrified. The Shigeo in question fucking blushes.

“Oh… Teruki and I made up.” 

“You fought? What about?” queries their mother. Ritsu wishes she didn’t.

Brother’s eyes shift, embarrassed, but he turns to Ritsu. “We fought over who’d pay for the gifts we bought for Ritsu.”

Shou chokes on his food. Ritsu suddenly doesn’t want to hear this. Or anything ever.

Unfortunately, the flashback resumes.

***

“How about this one?” Mob asks, showing Teruki a cookbook titled Clearly You Don’t Own An Air Fryer. 

Teruki shakes his head. “I don’t think you should trust the author of that one. Try this one,” he suggests, handing him another cookbook. 

Shopping for Ritsu’s birthday gift isn’t easy. If he wants to buy something meaningful and useful, he needs Teruki’s help. As one would expect of someone who’s lived alone for years, Teruki is skilled in the kitchen. The blond’s already finished picking some cute cookie cutters as his gift. They’re cat-shaped.

Mob shows Teruki another cookbook, and with his nod, they go to pay for their items. While waiting in line, Teruki offers, “Should I pay for both of ours, or should we just pay separately?”

“Huh?” Teruki startles. Why would he…?

Mob gives a slight smile as he notes his confusion. “I know you’ve been saving up your money to buy those sneakers. I don’t mind paying.” He adds, “I get paid, too. By Reigen.”

Teruki frowns. “I should be the one paying. You’ve been paying for most of our dates nowadays.” Seeing his partner’s apprehensive look, he continues, “And the sneakers aren’t important. I’ll pay for both of us.”

“Teruki…”

“Boo baby…”

***

Like a premonition to first-degree murder, Ritsu’s vision goes red as his hands shake around his spoon.

Was that fucking it? Their first fight and lovers’ spat was because they cared too much about each other? Ritsu feels nauseated. Shou’s pitiful eyes are no help to his revulsion.

Maybe it’s good that his eyesight is getting worse. Maybe he can remove his glasses whenever he doesn’t want to see them or something. (Ritsu does not know how glasses work.)

In any case, dinner ends, everyone goes to their rooms, Ritsu wants to throw up but not because of the food, and he is (willingly) stuck with Shou. Whatever. It’s his birthday. If he keeps thinking about the fact that his brother and brother-in-law fought because they couldn’t decide on who would pay for Ritsu’s gifts, then he probably won’t live to be twenty-five years old.

On the other side of the room, Shou, who indeed has twenty-five hundred subscribers, is watching a Mobtube video… in Russian?

Walking hesitantly toward his friend, he asks, baffled, “Shou, what on earth are you watching?”

Shou looks even more confused than he is. “Didn’t you say the C-section stood for a Czar delivery?”

Ritsu stares at him.

“Shou.” Breathe in. Breathe out. You’ve been doing great today, Ritsu. Don’t yield to bloodshed. “I said Cesarean. Czar is Russian for ‘ruler.’”

“Ohhhh.” Shou nods. “Is that why the salad fuckin’ rules?”

Ritsu yields. Blood is shed. 

Chapter Text

“Kageyama Ritsu, correct?”

Pushing his glasses up, Ritsu sighs with disbelief at the situation, a scale of which is so absurd he can feel the hairs on his head greying prematurely. What else is premature is him in the police station before he can intentionally commit a Reigen-targeted crime. Sad to say that is not the case today. Nonetheless, with a begrudging tone, he offers the detective an affirmative.

Standing beside his parents, brother, and Hanazawa, Shou pleads with a slam of his hands on the table as if acting out a crime drama (the types you know the ending of at the first few minutes), “Detective! Believe me—Ritsu didn’t do anything wrong!”

Thank you, Shou, Ritsu thinks, smiling softly at him. It’s nice to have someone on his side. Someone like a trustworthy, bonafide friend. 

“Even though he and I technically have an unofficial criminal record, I can definitely vouch that he has nothing to do with this one, promise!” Shou adds, and suddenly Ritsu takes everything back he just thought about him and sends a closed-eyed smile that speaks hey, why don’t you shut your fucking mouth before I throttle you into the goddamned moon in Ritsu-language. 

Shou is not fluent.

“Criminal record ?” The detective repeats.

“Yeah, we’re best fr—” 

“Um, I’ve never met this boy in my entire life, detective,” Ritsu states as if it were obvious, as if he were talking about how birds fly and cats walk and snakes slither and Shou is a witless little shit with matches for brains instead of coherent fucking thoughts. 

Suffice to say, the investigator behind the table is not looking convinced. Ritsu, as well, is not convinced this is happening. Why Ritsu? Why him? What did he do so wrong to deserve this?

No, scratch that. He did everything wrong from the beginning. And he is now reaping the consequences of his badly sewn actions.

Taking the glasses off his face, he stares at them with aged eyes. It started… with these.

***

It started, as many things do for people who suddenly lose the ability to read the words on a bottle across the room, with a trip to the optician. 

The vigor of the weekend crowds the streets with people like Ritsu and his father, who used his day off to accompany him, and people like Shou, who Ritsu spots in the weaving throngs of passersby. Noticing the redhead’s excited waving, his father lets him go and tells him he’d go ahead and confirm their appointment. Ritsu isn’t planning on staying with Shou for long but nevertheless attempts to squeeze between the crowd, fortunately finding an empty veranda of a coffee shop where they could talk. Shou pants, tired, and Ritsu notices, not without a creeping sense of dread, that he is holding his phone with the stabilizer he uses for his MobTube videos. 

“Shou, just curious. Are you trying to wind up incarcerated?”

Shou is genuinely unconcerned. “Not incarcerated. Incinerated.”

“That’s terrible,” says Ritsu, but Shou is busy adjusting his camera settings instead of listening to his friend’s well-meaning opinions on his criminal activity. As per usual.

“Anyway, have you heard?” Shou doesn’t stop his adjusting, but he glances at Ritsu with a tinge of excitement—the kind of gossipers, which scares Ritsu, not for once in his Shou-ridden life. Not that Ritsu minds. He continues, “Remember Matsuo?”

From Scar? “Creepy guy with an ugly vase, I remember.” 

“Yes, him. So he accidentally let loose an evil spirit in the city—”

“Sounds like bad news.”

“Terrible news. I heard it goes for young people suffering from stress. Loves to feed off it. Ritsu, be careful,” Shou says, and Ritsu knows he’s teasing.

“Shut up. I’m perfectly relaxed.”

“You’re as tense as verbs. Tense in the past, present, and futu—”

Ritsu whacks him with his bag and leaves to catch up with his father, ignoring Shou’s cackles. Save it for your mad arson adventures, he thinks (and later regrets—very, very much).

***

Surprisingly, they left the optician with glasses already in hand without having to wait a few more days or weeks, which Ritsu obviously is not complaining about. Right now, he is walking alone, his father having left to meet with his friends in a nearby restaurant a couple of minutes ago. He follows a quick route to their house, skimming through alleyways and stray dogs eating leftovers by a nearby dumpster. He pauses his steps, then decides to give them some of the bread in his bag. At the rip of the plastic, the smell circulates through the air, attracting the dogs to Ritsu and nearly startling him from their excitement. But just as quickly as they circled around him and his food, they begin to run away after a few barks of warning, barely even offering his bread so much the slightest lick. 

With senses heightened more than Hanazawa’s whenever he’s paired with Mob and a slipping hazard, Ritsu sets himself into a fighting stance, esper aura visibly emanating from his body. 

Something is masking its presence. 

The glow swathing Ritsu flickers like a flame doused with fuel as he sharpens his senses. The mask may hide its identity, but he can pinpoint its location—a few blocks from here, going further and further as if running away after realizing it had been caught. Ritsu surges through the streets with a wave of telekinesis, zigzagging between obstacles and gliding over cars. 

SHWIP!

Ritsu stops. Had it gone out of his range? Had it completely masked its presence? He tries to feel around the air again. Nothing. Oddly, the young esper couldn’t detect anything unusual at all. He could’ve sworn he was less than a few meters away from catching it… how bothersome.

Ritsu lets his powers fade to a passive radar instead and picks up some litter by the sidewalk. Oh, well.

Ritsu walks home, unperturbed. No biggie. What was that that Shou had mentioned? Some evil spirit that feeds off—little children? Something like that. Maybe Ritsu would be a bit more intimidated if his brother weren’t capable of a slight nudge stronger than a gazillion atomic bombs—not to mention Ritsu’s gotten the brunt of said overpowered force. Gods forbid his brother snaps again. That would probably mean having to see Hanazawa naked and bald again, and isn’t it pitiable to think he’s been naked and bald more than once, which is more than the average person experiences sudden nakedness and baldness.

Opening the door to his home, Ritsu smirks to himself, confident he’s experienced all that could possibly scare him. Evil spirits, evil whatever—they’ve got nothing on Kageyama Ritsu.

That confidence drops faster than his jaw to the floor.

Standing in his periphery are Hanazawa and his brother, side-by-side (local news), covered head-to-toe in blood (headline) with an unmoving, alarmingly dead-looking body sprawled across the ground (Interpol Red Notice). 

Ritsu closes the door.

Hm. All right. 

Ritsu opens the door.

It’s real. What the fuck?

“Hi, Ritsu. Welcome home,” his brother greets, and Ritsu wishes the gods had given him a notice for a change in genre from romance to horror. 

“What is going on,” seems to be Ritsu’s number one recurring statement of the year, maybe in his whole life. 

Hanazawa graces him with an answer. Ritsu wishes he could be graced with a sleep-inducing punch to the neck. “Shigeo and I noticed a spirit heading our way, and when it phased through our house, he exorcised it at that split-second moment. Cool, right?”

“And the body?” 

“The spirit’s old vessel. They’re not hurt, just unconscious,” the blonde replied.

“And the blood?”

“The spirit exploded into red goo. Uh, let me—” With a wave of his hand, Hanazawa cleaned themselves up to look more like law-abiding citizens and less like violent murderers. Ritsu couldn’t be more thankful. 

“Ah!” Brother exclaimed, and both heads turned to his worried expression. “The delivery guy came over after we exorcised the spirit. Do you think he got the wrong idea?”

Ritsu has felt a lot of things drop today, right now including his fragile, fragile heart. It’s dropped all the way down to the bare floor, actually, just like the body seven feet away from him probably did a few minutes ago. Ritsu’s stomach grumbles—not even of hunger, but of indigestion from stress; no wonder that spirit tried to go after him. “I think he also got the dial to the police.”

“Uh-oh.” Hanazawa’s eyes went wide. Everyone shared glances with each other. 

Well, they disposed of the body (sent it back to the address written on one of the belongings in the person’s coat) and managed to clear the mess in the house before their parents arrived. What happens next, whether they’ll end up in the police station again, this time as suspects instead of witnesses, or not, depends on the delivery guy at the scene of the crime. 

Ritsu hopes the man just waves it off, but then again, who the hell waves off murder? Not that it was, but how would he know that? Even Ritsu hadn’t known. Still, he places some hope that the dude had a long day at work, sleepy eyes, and the emotional exhaustion of someone living on minimum wage to think bloody murder was just ‘another day at work!’ Sounds possible enough. Right…?

The next day is tense. The Kageyama parents ask Ritsu about his new glasses, how he’s finding them, how comfortable they are, can you see how many fingers I’m holding? Ritsu mumbles out a four, thoughts too preoccupied on the events from last night. He really shouldn’t worry about it considering no actual murder was committed (aside from the murder on his sanity, but Ritsu thinks that would be considered a cold case), yet he finds himself in a mental whir of anticipation—that feeling when you read a book knowing something is about to happen, but you don’t know what or when or how that something will be.

A sharp ringtone slices through the air of the Kageyama household. Hanazawa, who slept over, peeks out from the bathroom with a toothbrush lodged in his mouth and makes eye contact with him and his brother. 

“I’ll take that,” Ritsu comes forward, “I think it’s for me.”

With delicate movements, as if scared to offend the person behind the phone, Ritsu presses the receiver to his ear. “Hello?”

Brother’s face couldn’t be more honest: shining, focused eyes, pursed lips, clenched jaw. Hanazawa’s was more restrained, with his worry concealed by his nonchalant brushing of teeth by the doorway. Despite that, he leaned forward from where he was standing, ears cast in the direction of their conversation.

Ritsu’s face drops as the person speaks over the phone. “Yes, this is he.” They were asking for him. 

More words are uttered across the phone. Ritsu pales. “The police station?” Shigeo’s spoon bends and twists until it becomes almost akin to a contemporary work of art. Ritsu would name it His Intestines. Meanwhile, his parents’ heads snapped toward him faster than Ritsu could say crime; Ritsu does not want to say crime.

But as the person on the phone elaborates, Ritsu feels a wave of relief, which probably showed on his face as Hanazawa asks through choking coughs and toothpaste: “Are we getting jailed?”

“No, not us,” Ritsu whispers, cupping the phone before directing his words to the detective over the line again, “What happened?”

***

“So you’re saying—” The detective pinches the bridge of his nose, gazing into Ritsu’s eyes totally unbelieving. “—That you—who was spotted yesterday at a coffee shop talking to Suzuki Shou, minutes before the arson occurred—have never met him in your entire life?”

If only he’d gone to the fucking optician without stopping to see him—no, if only he hadn’t gone yesterday in the first place—then he wouldn’t have to be dealing with Shou’s criminal goddamned activity at eight o’clock in the morning. He answers dryly, “Well, I’ve met him once.”

“Right.”

“It’s the hard, cold truth,” he lies.

His mother sighs in the background. Stepping up, his father urges, “Detective, he’s innocent!” Ritsu recognizes the business card he then hands over. “You can check with this optical clinic here for his alibi.” 

Hanazawa adds, “Wasn’t Shou doing this for his MobTube channel? He must have some footage of him committing, um… setting a small fire to, uh—”

“Desecrating a public monument by means of arson,” says Ritsu, helpfully. 

Clearing his throat, Shou-whom-he-did-not-know-at-all-nope-never-in-his-entire-life answers after a quick glare that Ritsu willfully ignored, “I didn’t do it, so of course there isn’t any footage.”

The detective is looking ready to commit arson himself, closing his eyes and pressing his palms against his forehead to ease the growing headache that is Shou denying crimes he obviously committed. Poor sap, Ritsu laments, sure that Shou will 100% get away with it. There’s hardly any conclusive evidence, and Shou is fully capable of mind controlling everyone in the station anyway. (Not that he’d do it, considering he’s started to rely on his powers less and less, which is good, because Ritsu would rather have matches than Shou’s pyrokinesis).

“Well, if I’m not needed here…” Ritsu doesn’t think he is. At the very least, there were no suspicions about the incident with the evil spirit last night, so Ritsu counts today as a win.

“Not for now.” The man over the table sighs for the nth time. “We’ll contact you after we check your alibi. Thank you for your time.”

And after a few more minutes of formalities, they, along with the star of the hour, Shou, leave the station and prepare to go their separate ways. His parents leave for work, and the young lovers are holding hands on their way to a dog cafe, where Ritsu is sure they’ve been dubbed by its employees as Most Insufferably Lovey-Dovey Regulars. 

That left him with Shou. 

“Uh, so about earlier…” Shou tries. Ritsu won’t let him.

“Who are you?” 

“I didn’t tell them anything! The person who reported me just happened to see you with me too!”

Ritsu spares him a glance. “Really?”

“Really!”

“And how about you confessing our ‘unofficial crime record’?”

“It’s true!”

“My ass. I’m confiscating your matches,” Ritsu declares with a stern tone, expecting the blow-up that he receives in return from Shou.

“What?! You can’t do that! I’ve already gotten my account suspended!”

“You burned a statue,” Ritsu mentions. 

“A boring statue. They should’ve tried to arrest it instead of me for the crime of making me yawn hard enough to crack my jaw.”

“Really not the point here.”

“Alright, genius,” Shou sing-songs, sarcastic. Ritsu fails to hold back a chuckle, and they both walk home with giddy conversations and light, unbound-by-juvie hearts.

***

The next day, their parents give him and his brother a thirty-minute scolding after another summon to the police station, courtesy of one terrified delivery man.