Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Run! Everyone run!” Kageyama’s voice cuts through the tense silence with its desperation. He looks disheveled, bloody and frantic. 

Something in Teru’s head goes fuzzy at the sight, all his building worries shut off like a switch to a lightbulb. Familiar responses kick in, gut feelings and neurological pathways built to understand this intrinsically. Power, blood, Claw. Almost synonyms by now. Small rocks and debris collide after being displaced by the rush of footsteps, the sounds completely drowned out by the rush of words between Reigen and Kageyama. 

He should probably pay attention. He can't really bring himself to.

There’s a lump in his throat, a despairing rush beneath his skin that screams to get out, get out, get out. It fills him with a restless energy, until Kageyama says the words energy and explosion and Teru’s brain clicks back into place. 

“Judging by how nervous you are, our barriers probably won’t hold either,” Teru notes breathlessly. The idea that his barriers are too weak for anything is a terrifying one, one that a younger Teru might have completely denied being possible. “We should get going! Let’s go." 

Teru needs to get it together. There are murmurs in the crowd as the former Claw members gather the nerve to leave first, stray espers and the Seventh Division carving a path that the rest of them need to follow. 

Teru clears his throat and gestures to his students from Awakening Lab, running and trying to lead them with more confidence than he feels. Sniffles hit deaf ears, the supposedly redeemed member of the Ultimate Five– Serizawa, Teru thinks? -- muttering nothings that Teru could genuinely, truly, not be assed about. Who cares about the President of Claw? If Teru had his way, that man would have been dead before Teruki had turned ten. 

“Um… Hanazawa? Are you okay?” Kurosaki asks, jogging quicker to keep up with Teru, and he knows he’s been walking too fast, too silently, too preoccupied. 

“I’ll be fine,” he dismisses, wetting his chapped lips. He jumps over a large piece of debris, turning to help the others over. From the corner of his eye, he catches Kageyama stepping back into the fray. His eyes widen, and he’s shouting Kageyama’s name before he can stop himself.

Reigen turns as Kageyama steps closer to the President, and the temptation to chase after him is written all over him. He takes a step closer until a ghostly hand lands on his shoulder. Dimple mouths words Teru can’t make out from here, but the message is clear. Slowly, Reigen pries himself from the sight, and soon he and Dimple are rushing over to Teru and the rest of their group.

“Come on! We need to get out of here!” He yells urgently, and then they’re off again, tripping and stumbling over rocks and the destroyed city until everything goes white.

—

When the dust clears, everything has been turned to rubble. 

Teru can’t tell how long it’s been since the explosion. The mushroom-shaped cloud blocks out the setting sun, casting a shadow over Teru, over the Awakening Lab members, over Reigen and Dimple and Ritsu and Suzuki and the entire city and it’s right where Kageyama disappeared. 

He sits in silence, stunned, for what feels like an hour, even if it can’t be more than a few minutes.

Over time, the mushroom-shaped cloud in the distance disappears and is replaced with… a… tree? Teru blinks a few times to ensure he’s seeing it right, but… There, in the center of the explosion, a giant, entirely green tree has taken place. What the fuck.

Teru breathes. Big breaths that expand his ribcage to its limit, and scrunches his eyes tight. Four seconds in, hold, four seconds out. Repeat. Then again, and again, and once more, until the hysteria ebbs away from his throat and the adrenaline calms. His ribs ache with the movements.

He turns his head to the Awakening Lab espers, eyes flicking in their direction as his body stays still, unable to tear itself from the direction of the explosion. 

“Go,” Teru says, his voice hoarse. They’re crouched close to the ground, grouped close like they could have protected each other from the blast. His students nod wordlessly, the horror written on their faces as they begin to clear out. They fought hard-- Teru should congratulate them when he gets back to the lab. Or that’s what he would think, if the chanting alarm in his head wasn’t building louder and louder, to the point where his own thoughts drown out. Everything in him aches; Claw is everywhere, and Claw is gone. Kageyama… He’s alive, Teru decides. He has to be.

(Except he doesn’t, a traitorous voice in his head says.)

Suzuki and Ritsu are huddled together on a large piece of debris, leaning against each other for support. They must’ve gotten up first, Teru thinks, because neither of them look ready to move and they probably haven’t in a long time. 

Serizawa, Minegishi, and Hatori are scattered between them and Teru, as well as some of Suzuki’s lackeys standing further away. And… Reigen. Reigen looks like he’s gotten the worst of it.

It takes the longest for him to get back up. His body is wracked by a coughing fit, curling in on himself before he sits up, wobbly. A palm cradles his forehead as his mind catches up with the rest of him, head turning to observe his surroundings. Dimple’s spectral form floats around him, watching the recognition turn back on in Reigen’s mind. His suit is torn and in shambles, scratches decorating every bit of him that isn’t bruised or bleeding. He looks awful-- human, and terribly, terribly, fragile. 

Reigen isn’t an esper like the rest of them.

Now, he stands, shaky, in front of them all. Teru isn’t sure when Reigen became the makeshift leader of a whole group of psychics, but if it means he’s any closer to helping Kageyama, he won’t complain. Reigen clears his throat. 

“We need to find Mob,” Reigen says. It isn’t a question.

“What about my Pops?” Teru’s only ever heard Suzuki yelling– not that they’ve talked much to begin with, but the contrast of his scratchy, small voice makes something in Teru crack further.

Teru shuffles closer to the group, standing near Serizawa and the remaining Ultimate Five cautiously. Ritsu’s eyes dart to him, still shielded and shielding Suzuki’s body.

“I’m guessing he’ll be in the opposite direction of Kageyama,” Teru says.

“Right. So, most likely, they’re near that… tree thing. Possibly buried under debris. Some of you can use your ESP to clear most of it, but we’ll need tools to dig them out properly. We’re gonna have to split up,” Reigen says, taking a shaky breath and putting on his best leader voice. It shouldn’t be comforting for Teru to visibly see the distress in Reigen’s body language, but somehow, he feels relieved that everyone else is feeling it too. He doesn’t have to be the only one stepping up anymore. 

God, that’s a thought to dissect at a time that’s not now.

“I can scout the area,” Dimple says, floating closer to the center of their group. “I doubt I’ll see Shigeo or your Claw guy,” he gestures to the Ultimate Five (more like Ultimate Three, Teru thinks), “but maybe I can find shovels or something. Must be a shop for that around here.” 

“Sounds good to me. Say, wasn’t there someone who can heal here?” Reigen asks, and one of Suzuki’s lackeys perks up from his small group.

“Are you talking about me? I can heal us up, sorry, I’ll do that right now,” He replies, looking to Suzuki for approval, who gives a curt nod, and soon enough, he’s off. Dimple floats off to survey the wreckage as the healing esper– Teru can’t be bothered to ask for his name by now– darts from person to person. By the time he gets to Teru, most are muttering amongst themselves, quietly talking over plans. Of what comes next– which is exactly the part Teru doesn’t want to think about.

The green of the healer’s aura paints over Teru’s cuts and scrapes, sewing them together with ease. His skin is knit together with liquid magic, the aches and dull pain of his bruises fading in seconds, and yet. It does nothing for his exhaustion, or the grime all over his body. 

Teru catches sight of Serizawa leaning closer to Minegishi, whispering something into their ear as his eyes look over to Suzuki. Minegishi nods minutely, Hatori inching closer to chime in with a suggestion of his own that the two others think over. It sends chills up Teru’s spine. He doesn’t even know these people, and he knows firsthand that someone can change but… How do any of them know they won’t just… start over? Scrap Claw, build up again from scratch and make something new and horrifying?

After all, there might not be another Kageyama to stop them this time. 

…Teru swallows a lump in his throat.

Healing-Esper moves on from Teru, thankfully, not before asking far too many questions like, if he’s feeling okay, or experiencing symptoms of pressure in the head, nausea, dizziness, or confusion, or if he has any other injuries he’d like healed. Teru denies all but the first, even if he’d like to scream how terribly not-okay he’s feeling. He’s sure he could be helped in actuality when he’s sure there are a few fractures and injuries that haven’t healed right since he got them from Claw. It’s fine. Teru can deal with this. He can.

By the time everyone has been healed, the Healing-Esper leans against a fellow lackey’s side as the three of them gradually migrate over to the Ultimate Three. His stomach twists into knots at the sight as he instinctually walks closer to Reigen and Ritsu. 

“Hey, Hanazawa. How’re you holding up?” Reigen asks as he approaches. 

“I’m not sure I trust the six of them together like that,” Teru replies instead, avoiding the question as he sets himself down on what used to be a building wall.

“What, Fukuda and Serizawa and all those guys?” Suzuki scoffs, leaning across Ritsu’s body to talk to Teru. Ah. He probably shouldn’t have said that right near him. “They’re harmless. Higashio and Fukada and Ootsuki respond to me, anyway, and considering you all helped me, I don’t have a reason to sic ‘em on you.”

Teru bites his tongue to keep himself from saying that they don’t have to hurt any of them to do something awful elsewhere. Or to anyone else. Better not to aggravate the son of a raging esper-kidnapping man-child. 

“What about the Ultimate Five?” Teru feels Reigen’s eyes on him as he says it, and he dutifully watches Suzuki for his answer instead of paying attention to the scrutiny. 

Suzuki huffs out a breath. “I dunno what they’ll do. Ritsu’s bro seemed to have done a number on them, I wouldn’t be surprised if they actually did turn a new leaf. Besides, without– uh, without my Pops directing them, I don’t know if they actually have a reason to keep up with Claw business. My guess is they’ll tie up their loose ends like the rest of us and… move on.” Suzuki shrugs, as if it’s that easy.

The muted something beneath Teru’s skin snaps and bites. It’s a dulled, endless loop of that isn’t fair and no fucking way and how dare he that Teru cannot, for the life of him, deal with right now. He doesn’t have the luxury of breaking down today– even if part of him screams and cries like a toddler having a temper tantrum. 

“Do you think we’ll find him down there?” Ritsu interrupts, the words quiet, but startling the thoughts out of Teru’s head. The younger Kageyama is leaning forward now, legs dangling off the slab of concrete he and Suzuki are situated on. There’s still little space between them, but now Ritsu’s got his hands in his lap as he stares at his sneakers. 

Ritsu doesn’t have to say his name for Teru to know who he’s referring to.

“We will,” Reigen says, with confidence that betrays his body language. “He’s a strong kid.”

Ritsu takes a shuddering breath at that, nodding slowly. The lump in Teru’s throat is back.

“What if he isn’t strong enough?” Teru says after too long. He know's hes said the word thing immediately, though,The impact the words have on Reigen and Ritsu is deafening, though, like picking the incorrect choice in a dating sim. Congratulations, hero, you got the bad end. 

“We can’t think like that, Hanazawa. There’s no point dwelling on possibilities that aren’t confirmed yet,” Reigen sighs, and logically, Teru knows he’s right. But just as logically, Reigen’s face twists miserably. 

“Why don’t we try looking for Kageyama ourselves?” Teru says, standing up. “We don’t have to wait for Dimple to find supplies. Little Brother over here and Suzuki and I can start clearing debris.”

Ritsu cringes at the nickname, but responds regardless, “How will we know where we’re going?” 

“I can use my pyrokinesis,” Teru reasons, and Ritsu chews his lip in contemplation.

“What if Dimple gets back while we’re looking? Think realistically, you three can’t just dig a hole that size to find Mob. And besides, aren’t you three tapped out from fighting Shimazaki? Do you even have much energy left?” Reigen sighs, his shoulders dropping as he takes a breath, “Look, I want to find Mob too, and to make sure he’s okay, but I need to make sure you three are alright, too. Let’s just… see what Dimple finds. Save your energy for when it’s more useful, okay?”

The newly renewed energy in Teru slips away in one fell swoop. He collapses back against his stone seat, and immediately grimaces. Ow, ow, bad idea. 

“Fine,” he sighs, pulling out his phone. He doubts any news reports will pop up so soon, but it doesn’t hurt to check. There are new cracks on the screen’s surface and Teru scowls, holding down the power button with his hopes slowly dwindling. It doesn’t turn on. Shit.

“There’s no service,” Ritsu tells him as he catches sight of Teru, “We checked already.”

Teru deflates further, slumping back against the rocks.

Suzuki fills the lull in conversation as soon as he hears it, nervously chattering about a manga he’s read recently. If he were trying to distract them as much as himself, Teru wouldn’t blame him. He would be lying if he said it didn’t calm him, at least a little.

—

When Dimple returns, everyone in their group rushes to see him.

"What took you so long?" Teru asks impatiently.

"Geez, it was only twenty minutes or so, kid. You try finding anything in a ruined city, huh?" Dimple huffs, and Teru's face scrunches in annoyance.

"Twenty minutes too many," He mutters under his breath, and a hand lands on his shoulder before he can antagonize the spirit any further. Teru stiffens at the contact, and as if Reigen could sense it, the hand disappears just as quickly. Teru chews on his lip. 

"Did you find anything, Dimple?" Reigen says, stepping forward and directing the conversation back on track. 

"I did, actually. I'll lead you all to the store I found, 'cause, uh... spirit hands, and all." Dimple raises his short arms as if to demonstrate, and... yeah, he's not bringing anything around with those, “There were shovels and flashlights and everything. It’s not too far, just a few streets down if I remember right.”

"Okay," Reigen straightens up, "Sounds like a plan. Someone should stay here in case Mob shows, so... Hanazawa, wanna come with?"

Teru's eyes widen. Surely he'd take one of the adults with him instead, right? But... Well, considering they're all ex-terrorists and he's not an esper, that might not be the best idea. They'd listen to Suzuki, though, right? So maybe it’s for tactical advantage. Even if Teru would like to believe that Reigen sees through his twitchiness and is offering him an out. That might just be wishful thinking, but he really can't stand to be here without knowing how Kageyama’s doing for so long.

Ritsu is clearly faring similarly, if the way his pensiveness seems to have tripled over the time it's taken Dimple to return is anything to go by. Teru catches sight of Suzuki rubbing his back in small circles comfortingly, and Teru's eyes immediately snap back to Reigen and Dimple. Nope, none of his business. He has a best friend to dig up, thanks. 

"Sure," Teru says, and it comes out more like a mumble than he'd intended. Reigen's expression brightens minutely anyway, though, a small difference in the bone-deep exhaustion written into his face.

“Where were you for the rest of the time, then?” Suzuki pipes up, and Teru thanks him mentally.

“Scopin’ out the area, mostly. The damages extend pretty far into the city, but the outskirts and residential areas seem okay. I didn’t see any civilians ‘cause of the evacuation protocol, but some cops have started gathering,” Dimple explains, and the Ultimate Five, along with Suzuki’s lackeys, visibly stiffen.

“I’m not sure how the media’s gonna try to explain this away,” Reigen sighs, crossing his arms across his chest. “Confirming the existence of espers this close to a terrorist attack… It’s bound to cause panic.” 

Teru wrings his hands contemplatively. If Kageyama is alive (which he most definitely is), would he be charged for destruction of property? Or even blamed for the explosion? It stirs something unpleasant and nauseous in Teru’s stomach, adding to the aches and general discomfort in his body right now. All he wants is to collapse in bed. 

“If we’re lucky, they won’t at all,” Ritsu says grimly.

“Yeah. Well,” Reigen sighs, “nothing we can do about that now. Let’s head out, Hanazawa.”

“Oh!” Serizawa exclaims as if remembering something he thought he forgot, “Would you mind bringing some extra shovels for us, if you can? It’s no problem if you can’t, but… we’d like to try to find the President. We’ve decided that if the President is going to be arrested, we’d want him to hand himself over himself. Plus, for… uh,” He gestures to Suzuki. 

Reigen nods, pity lining his voice. Didn’t he offer this guy a job? What was that about? “Sure thing.”

And then they’re off. 

Dimple leads them over toppled buildings, Teru using his pyrokinesis to bend flames out of his and Reigen's path. They venture further into the wrecked city, an evening chill beginning to take over the air where the heat from the fires fades out. Teru has no idea how long it's been. He doesn't really want to find out. 

They take a few turns down the streets, avoiding debris falling from somehow-still-stable buildings and balconies, and hopping over shifting slabs of concrete and rock. 

Teru jumps over a large crack in the road, psychically boosting his movements until he's stumbling to a stop on the other side, stabilizing himself against a crooked lamp post. Reigen looks at him helplessly over the distance, holding onto the side of a collapsed sign as he attempts to extend his leg over the distance, coming up laughably short.

"Uh," Reigen stares at him. "Little help over here, Hanazawa?"

Despite everything, Teru snorts, stifling a laugh as he picks Reigen up telekinetically with little effort. Reigen yelps, and Dimple has far less reservations, because he busts out laughing. 

"Yes, yes, thank you," Reigen says, embarrassedly. "Let's just get out of here."

Afterwards, the trek to the storefront is short. The three of them walk (and float) in silence, wordlessly avoiding the falling rocks and scrabbling for stable ground. It’s a special kind of different, Teru thinks, to see empty and dark storefronts in daylight. It’s paired with a silence you never hear in cities. Teru decides he doesn’t like the quiet. 

Eventually, the streets even out, and the buildings further into the city are still standing. Further away, the only evidence of the explosion at all stays in the cracks in the sidewalks and blacktop roads. The steady wobble of streetlights when touched, or the sight of the sky darkened with dust. From here, Teru can maybe convince himself it’s a normal evening. 

They get into the store with little fanfare. Teru picks the lock psychically and the three of them gather their supplies, leaving a wad of cash on the cashier’s desk. 

They’re back near their group before they know it. Teru carries the shovels and flashlights with his telekinesis, his aura coming up closer to sickly greens rather than his usual highlighter yellows. They hand everything out to the others, not nearly enough for each of them individually, but enough to get the job done. Suzuki splits off from Ritsu with a wave and a quick hug, joining the former Claw members who begin circling around the center of the explosion to spread out in their search for the President.

Ritsu and Teru lift their hands, teals and blues mixing with lime, as their powers lift large chunks of rock away to form a clear patch of land closer to the tree. Teru can feel Ritsu struggling over time, his aura flickering and weakening at points until he gathers the strength to try again. His powers are far newer, he supposes. Overused from the day and still unpracticed.  

Ritsu would make an excellent student at the Awakening Lab, Teru thinks. 

Eventually, they’re ready to dig, though, the sun halfway to disappearing beneath the horizon line. Reigen hands the two their shovels and fiddles with his flashlight, sharing a conversation with Dimple too hushed for Teru to hear. Reigen switches with them when either of them gets too tired, the other psychically scooping dirt away until they have an actual tunnel. It’s something Teru would’ve found cool as a kid– a secret transportation system underground, but now all Teru feels is… tired. 

He just hopes they aren’t too late. 

—

It must be hours before they finally find him. 

Despite the grueling process of uncovering him, it’s almost a blur when Ritsu pulls Kageyama up into his arms. He looks… remarkably okay. His clothes are ripped, but he’s okay. It’s like a boulder on Teru’s chest rolls off his body, the relief cloying and much needed as he holds Kageyama as close as he can instinctively, the second Ritsu lets go of him. 

The hug is shorter than he’d like, the self-consciousness quickly blooming in his chest as he moves away from Kageyama after less than ten seconds. He’s hit with a pang of loss, the feeling shoved away with an embarrassed laugh and Kageyama only looks at him, dazed and surprised but offering a weak smile and ohmygod, Teru doesn’t know why but he thinks he might faint.

It's from the rush of feelings, he decides. Whiplash. He’s just glad to see his friend alive.

When he moves away, Reigen pats Kageyama on the shoulder with a smile and Dimple slaps his back, cracking a witty comment about the circular rip on Kageyama’s shirt. It’s on the left side of his chest, right over his heart, and a bubble of inspiration floats to Teru’s mind. He could do something with that if he remembers to scribble it down in his sketchbook when he gets home. 

“That’s some bold new fashion statement,” Dimple says.

“Geez, stop exceeding my expectations constantly…” Teru laughs, “Don’t get too far ahead, will ya? I thought I was your rival.”

A cocktail of feelings mix in Teru’s gut as the five of them hike back through the tunnel. Teru ignores it. 

They talk as they travel, and then Teru is floating Kageyama to let him rest and Reigen is asking about their sleeping arrangements. 

“Are you coming to my place? You won’t have much space is all,” Reigen asks Teru, and he offers a courteous smile in return. Teru’s not sure of the state of Reigen’s apartment to begin with, but if the Kageyama’s are staying there already, he doesn’t want to overcrowd it. A part of him feels… odd, though, a claustrophobic feeling in his gut. 

“It’s fine. I’ll go back home,” Teru replies instead of saying any of that. Reigen raises an eyebrow. 

“Are you sure, Hanazawa? We can call up your parents if they evacuated,” Reigen says and it feels like a strike to the face. 

“No!” He says it too quickly, too panicked, and he can feel Reigen’s judgment on him, “I mean, they’re home the last I checked, it’ll be fine. Thank you for your concern, though.”

“...Okay, no problem. How about I give you my business card and you can call that number if they want to talk to me or something?” Reigen says, and… that’s a lot more of a bearable suggestion. Teru nods numbly, and Reigen fishes a card out of his suit jacket, “Is it okay if I write my address on this just in case?”

“Sure,” Teru agrees, voice quiet. He’s not sure when he’d need that, but Reigen is pulling out a pen from his pocket and scribbling down a street name already.

“It’s a bit messy, but hopefully you can read it,” Reigen says, handing it to Teru before turning back to Ritsu.

Teru looks it over as Reigen and Ritsu speak, fiddling with the corners in his hands. Reigen’s business card is small, not as expensive looking as his fathers, but not as cheap as he expected, either. The print is small and neat, and underneath that is… frankly chicken scratch where Reigen’s written down the number of his apartment complex. He’s lucky his own handwriting is messy enough that he can read it with some effort. 

“Can we go to the school first? It’s not far away,” Ritsu asks, and Teru feels another bubble of amusement in his chest. Reigen isn’t that bad– kind, even– but being near him gives Teru the same feeling he gets around most adults: that everything he says is ripe for study and they are paying attention. It freaks him out more than he’d like to admit, and there’s that claustrophobic feeling again, twisting up his stomach into little knots. 

Still, he has to admit that Ritsu’s distaste is at least entertaining. 

— 

Teru walks with Ritsu and Reigen to Salt Secondary. The locks on the doors are opened telekinetically, far too late in the day for the school to be open to visitors. He lingers in the doorway as the three of them wave him goodbye, Kageyama being carried (with quite a bit of difficulty, he might add) by Reigen with support from Ritsu’s ESP. 

The stone sinks as Teru pries himself away from the school grounds. It’s late, past ten if he’d have to guess, but his phone sits broken in his pocket without any way for him to check. Stars stand out like pinpricks, blanketed by the inhuman darkness of the city. He moves away from the courtyard, and Teru can’t help but think that Kageyama would like to see it. He’s caught him staring at the sky before, watching birds and constellations and Teru wishes more than anything that he could read his mind in those moments. 

It’s a slow, steady walk to his apartment. There isn’t much damage this far out, not when Salt Secondary is closer to the residential part of Seasoning anyway. His area and Black Vinegar may not be so lucky, and Teru hopes the results are minimal enough to deal with in the morning. 

The weight of the day is finally starting to set in, sinking salt in water as Teru turns a corner onto the sidewalk. His body is growing sluggish, no more panic or adrenaline to suspend him like strings on a puppet. It’s only then that the thought dares to occur to him, the idea sitting hazy and foreign.

Claw is gone. 

Claw is really, really, gone. 

…Shit, what does Teru even do now? There’s no more bad guy, no comic book villain to terrorize him, just… him. Just Teru in Seasoning City with an endless number of possibilities. 

It doesn’t feel real, more like a joke that’s sure to be pulled from under his feet in due time. Yeah, Kageyama defeated the Seventh Division, and sure, if anyone were to defeat Claw, it would be him, but… can. Can it really be over, just like that?

That something in Teru’s chest begins to loosen, riding the line of exhilaration and panic. Does… Teru’s parents let him leave because Claw could have hurt them. What does that mean now? The idea of moving back in with his parents only adds to the feeling, his stomach tightening from a knot into a ball, like crumpled up aluminum foil. From that it’s guilt. For feeling so nervous at the thought of his parents. For being a completely different person than the one they left behind. For–

Oh. He’s home. Okay. 

He swallows down his thoughts, knowing from experience to try and postpone any panic attacks until he’s alone in bed, the only sounds coming from the ticking of the clock and any music put on under the guise of going to sleep. Teru pushes his building door open, flashing his keychain over the door’s lock until it beeps, and Teru can take the elevator upstairs. He has no energy for the stairs. 

Soon he’s turning the key to his apartment, pushing open the door to reveal…

A fucking mess. God damnit. 

Teru forgot how bad the damages were in the heat of battle. There’s a massive hole in the floor, the windows broken, and the furniture trashed. His manga is scattered across beneath his feet, the bookshelf cracked in half on the bed and his desk tossed to the side with one of its legs dangling, nearly entirely detached. Some of his sketchbooks lie under the debris, and Teru knows every bookmark and sheet of stickers and every charming little nothing he’s kept in his room is somewhere littered over the wrecked floorboards.

The last three years of Teru’s life is splayed out in front of him. It’s almost corpselike, how the little details and everything that made it home feel so lifeless. Haunted. An idea bites at the edges of his thoughts– and doesn’t it all seem so convenient? End of Claw, apartment nearly wrecked… Like a joke gone wrong. If Teru were twelve years old again, he might fantasize that this is the perfect lineup of events to head back home. To his parents.

But he isn’t. And all he sees in the wreckage is another mess to clean up on his own.

It’s with a rush of frustration that Teru pulls a duffel bag out of his closet. He rummages through his clothes, clothes folded and tossed telekinetically into the duffel until there’s a good few days worth of clothing occupying it. It’s messy and inefficient. Teru doesn’t care. Sorting through the broken dresser is a futile effort but he manages to pull out socks and undergarments and toss them into the bag, changing out of his binder while he’s at it.

He can’t fix this, he realizes. Looking at the apartment, all he can do is get a good night's rest, and a generous, generous loan from his parents’ bank account tomorrow. No matter how parts of him itch to just get it done, to fix it and do things on his own because he’s supposed to be good on his own. 

Teru doesn’t feel like he’s doing a very good job. 

With a sigh, he manages to sort his books into small piles, stacking his game consoles and controllers in the closet and his old school notebooks and stationary on the free space in front of it. His arms are sore, too much to lift anything except with his powers. When his aura washes over the apartment, it’s still lime. Closer to yellow, but not quite. Teru retrieves his broken phone to leave on the top of one of the piles, resolving to buy a new one tomorrow, but he’s reminded of Reigen’s offer as his hand brushes the business card in his pocket. 

He chews his lip. Staying at Reigen’s apartment will be cheaper than booking a hotel and finding one that’s still open might be difficult after the evacuation notice. And… If the Kageyamas are there too, that just means he can keep an eye on them, right? Ensure that they’re doing okay and all. Plus they’ll be able to discuss their next moves with Claw, right?

But… Reigen will know that Teru isn’t with his parents. And he’s going to ask why. Shiiit, fine, that’s okay, Teru’s good on his feet, he can come up with something. 

His laptop is still in the kitchenette by the front door, tucked into his backpack where it should lie untouched. If he’s going to drop in on Reigen, it really would be polite to let him know, but he doubts even Reigen checks his email that often. Instead, Teru drops the duffel there for when he needs to go, leaving to look over everything he needs day-to-day in the bathroom. Toothbrush, dye-treated shampoo and conditioner, hairbrush he never uses.

He could really use a shower right about now. 

—

Before long, its nearing midnight, the clock on his kitchen wall ticking further even when Teru wishes it wouldn’t. He’s finally ready, fresh and spiky hair drying with exceeding speed– although his roots are annoyingly growing back in. Teru grabs a granola bar from the pantry, a small enough snack to sate the growing hunger that he hadn’t even realized he’d been nursing, as he pulls on his sneakers.

Shrugging his backpack on, he takes another bite of the bar, slinging the duffel bag onto his shoulder. He pats his pockets, checking physically and mentally for anything he’s missed. Keys, Reigen’s business card, chargers, headphones… all there. Okay. He finishes the bar, crumpling the wrapper and shoving it into his jean pockets as he walks through the hall.

When he steps out into the street, Teru wishes he had a bigger jacket. Most of his are too small now and he hasn’t gone shopping, leaving him only with the fall sweaters he can’t keep himself from buying. He holds the business card, running his fingers along the edge of it as he mentally maps out his route. 

Walking alone at night is exactly the type of thing kids like him were told not to do, not when Claw has tried to pick him up off the street. More than once, might he add. The underlying fear that someone will pop out, that there’s someone still left in the city waiting to strike revenge is almost a paralyzing one, but Teru can’t feel anyone’s aura but his own. And the Kageyama’s, which Teru supposes he could use as a compass if anything. Suzuki, Serizawa, and the others must be farther out, then. Hm. 

The Kageyama’s auras grow stronger as Teru approaches Reigen’s apartment. It’s a lot closer to Salt Secondary than Teru expected, but then again, his apartment is in the heart of the city, just as his parents planned. Cracks in the ground are far less common the further he walks, barely any different than the pre-existing ones. 

It doesn’t take nearly enough of Teru’s brainpower to end up at Reigen’s building, his feet carrying him closer to Kageyama’s aura without much thought, a moth to a hearth. The building itself is run down. There’s an external set of stairs up to the second floor, which looks out with a balcony onto the small parking space outside. There can’t be more than ten or twelve apartments in total. 

He checks over the card in his hand again, despite having read it over twenty times on the way here. Okay. Last room, second floor. Easy. Teru approaches it with a tentative knock on the door before he hears rustling and whispering from the other side.

Eventually, it opens, though, revealing an exhausted and surprised Reigen.

“Oh, Hanazawa, I wasn’t expecting you so soon. Is something the matter?” His eyes are darting to the duffel bag and backpack Teru’s carrying, concern starting to worm its way into the furrow of his eyebrows. 

“Ah, kind of? My apartment was destroyed by Claw earlier and I hadn’t remembered until I got there,” Teru explains with a huff of laughter, “I was wondering if your offer to let me stay over still stands.”

Reigen’s eyes widen, and Teru can see the eyebags beneath them clearly, despite dim lighting, “Of course, kid, come on in. It’s kinda cramped, but…”

Reigen tilts his head to the side, gesturing for Teru to follow him as he starts walking down the short hall into the main room. Teru steps forward, shutting the door carefully behind him and removing his shoes as he takes in the studio apartment in all its low-light, cozy, worn glory.

Teru’s first thought is that it’s a little cluttered. Okay, that’s mean, his apartment is worse and especially now, but there is a lot of stuff around. Some bags are on the floor– presumably belonging to either of the Kageyamas– and miscellaneous papers and books are strewn about the coffee table. The only light comes from a lamp by the couch, and Teru’s eyes are immediately drawn to Kageyama passed out in the bed in the far-left corner. Dimple is curled like a cat by his head, in between Kageyama and Ritsu who is sitting up against the headboard, phone in hand, seemingly unwilling to leave his older brother. It’s definitely as cramped as Reigen implied, the only real other rooms being the small kitchenette and bathroom by the front door. Teru doubts he’s going to get a wink of sleep here.

Ritsu looks up as the two of them approach, expression changing as he lowers his phone, “Hanazawa, what are you doing here? I thought your parents were still in the city.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, but they must’ve left during the commotion. My phones broken, but once I get a new one, I’ll call them to figure out what’s going on,” Teru says, the lie rolling off his tongue after mulling it over on the way over. He sets his bags down next to the couch, settling on it’s far end.

“You can use mine if you need to, Hanazawa,” Reigen offers, sitting down on the couch. Shit. Teru didn’t think of that.

“No, it’s fine. I don’t think they’d pick up if they don’t recognize the number.” That’s an acceptable excuse, right? “I can order a new phone to my apartment tomorrow.”

Reigen hums noncommittally. “…Okay. Did they leave any note for you, or anything?”

Teru chooses his next words carefully. He doesn’t know what Reigen gets from prying like this, why is it anyone else’s business what Teru’s parents do or don’t do for him?

“They might’ve, but I didn’t see one. I was kind of in a rush,” Teru laughs nervously, “Besides, with everything on the news, they were probably in a time crunch. They know I can handle myself-- I’m an esper, after all.”  

Wrong answer. Reigen’s eyebrows scrunch almost imperceptibly as if Teru is a particularly difficult puzzle he’s trying to piece together. Teru curses inwardly. Shaking people off of his trail has never been this difficult-- most at Black Vinegar just offer him a laugh and move on, something Teru has always attributed to his ability to slip by unnoticed.

“So you’re staying with us?” Dimple says, both startling Teru and sending a little rush of relief that his and Reigen’s conversation has been interrupted.

“Yep. Is Kageyama asleep?”

“The kid passed out cold. He must be exhausted from exerting that much power,” Reigen says sympathetically before his stomach growls so loud Teru can’t help but laugh, “Shit, I didn’t realize how hungry I was. Have either of you eaten?”

“I had a granola bar,” Teru supplies.

“I’ve been with you the whole time,” Ritsu says, unimpressed.

Reigen sighs, “Right. Okay, first order of business: dinner. Any preference between frozen meals and instant noodles?”

—

Teru gently jostles Kageyama awake to the artificial yet savory smell of ramen filling the small apartment. Reigen’s turned on the TV, flipping through the news channels as Ritsu texts someone one-handedly on his phone, leaning over his bowl of noodles on Reigen’s desk. Dimple is sitting on Reigen’s head, weirdly enough, flattening his hair and stage-whispering comments into his ear that only the two of them can hear. Reigen laughs loudly at some point, nearly spitting out his noodles which only spurs the two of them on more.

“Hey, wake up, food’s ready.”

“Hanazawa?” Kageyama asks as he wakes, voice small as he turns to face Teru, who’s chest inexplicably squeezes. He’ll… decipher that later.

“You’re awake,” Teru says, relieved, a smile pulling at his lips as he moves his hand away from Kageyama’s shoulder. Oblivious to Teru’s thoughts, Kageyama rubs the sleep from his eyes, sitting up to lean against the headboard. His movements are wobbly, and Teru doubts he’ll be able to make it to the couch or, even worse, the tiny table in the kitchenette like this.

“Brother?” Ritsu says, leaning back to see Kageyama from around Teru.

“Ritsu,” Kageyama breathes, relieved, “You’re okay. Where are we?” Kageyama asks as Teru watches the lights turn back on in his eyes. He still has eyebags, the ripped uniform worn like a badge.

“My apartment. Hey, kid, glad to see you’re alive,” Reigen chimes, and Dimple floats over to land in front of Kageyama’s crossed legs under the blanket.

“Morning, sleeping beauty. We were waiting on ya.”

Kageyama smiles gently, clearly taking in the change in environment as his mind catches up to him, “What happened?”

“I’ll explain over food,” Ritsu suggests, and Kageyama nods. Teru moves out of the way, sitting on the opposite end of the couch to Reigen as Ritsu retrieves Kageyama’s food and settles onto the bed next to his brother.

He pulls out his laptop, instead, letting the sounds of the channels changing and the soft background conversation wash over him as he balances it on his knees. Taking intermittent bites of his ramen, he scrolls through website after website, mulling over what kind of phone to buy. It’s not like his parents ask about the money, anyway.

Teru learned that young—newly eleven years old in a barren apartment surrounded by his life packed away into tiny, cardboard boxes. It felt risky buying a volume of his favorite manga (it wasn’t necessary). It felt risky buying a fifty-five-inch TV (he wanted to see if he could). It felt risky going to expensive salons, dying his hair platinum blond every few months, and cutting it shorter than it’d ever been (his mother would’ve hated it). It felt really risky buying a binder, but at some point, Teru wondered if they’d even noticed.

If they did, neither of them said a word.

Eventually, he settles on something. It’s not too expensive, but not low quality either—not like the older phones he used to buy after they kept getting wrecked during kidnapping attempts by Claw.

This time, though… He won’t need to prepare for another attempt, he hopes. It’s a childish impulse, but Teru buys it with far too little thought, as if this one action to try and state to the world that Claw is gone will keep them from ever coming back. Like they can’t come back if Teru is already acting like they’re gone.

Maybe he’s being overemotional, but it feels like the start of something new.

“Can I order a phone to your house?” Teru asks suddenly, and Reigen looks at him bewildered.

“You’re ordering a phone to my house?”

“Yeah. My apartment is too damaged for me to stay there anytime soon, much less deliver something there, but I need a phone so I can call my parents. So can I get it delivered here?”

“Uh… Yeah, sure, kid. Go ahead,” Reigen replies, giving him an odd look that Teru can’t decipher. Why does he keep looking at him like that?

Teru sighs and returns to his meal.

—

Kageyama passes out not too long afterward. Ritsu manages to corral him into changing out of his uniform at least, and into the clothes from the Body Improvement Club, but beyond that he’s completely passed out, an arm wrapped around Ritsu’s middle. Said Ritsu ends up begrudgingly borrowing clothes from Teru after he realizes his only other option is Reigen’s closet. Teru has to say, he’s pleased to see what Ritsu’s picked out-- that sky blue sweater covered in embroidered cats is one of his favorites.

“Guess I’m not getting my bed back,” Reigen sighs.

“Where are we going to sleep?”

“I’ve got a futon you can sleep on. I don’t mind taking the couch, when I was younger I passed out on our sofa millions of times,” Reigen snorts, and Teru idly wonders what Reigen’s life used to be like. Was… that the first time he ever mentioned things before Spirits and Such?

“That works for me.” Teru can’t actually remember the last time he slept in anything other than a western-style bed, but he’s been yawning continuously since dinner and if the way his eyelids are beginning to get heavy is anything to go by, he has no doubts he’ll pass out when he hits the pillow.

They set out the futon next to the bed, in front of Reigen’s desk chair so Teru won’t get crushed if one of the Kageyama’s roll off their bed or something.

“Goodnight, Reigen. Thank you, again, for letting me stay here,” Teru says once he’s settled under the blankets.

There’s a pause before Reigen responds, and briefly Teru worries if he’s said something wrong.

“…No problem, Hanazawa. Get some rest, kid,” Reigen responds eventually, a nearly inaudible strain in his voice, and he leans back over the arm of the couch to pull the switch on the lamp, plunging the room into comfortable darkness.

Chapter Text

Teru wakes up to the sound of sizzling and shuffling in the kitchen. Lights from the open blinds shine almost directly into his eyes, noise from a news reporter speaking on the TV and conversation rousing him from a surprisingly deep but restless sleep.

His eyes fixate on the clock on Reigen’s wall as Teru regains his bearings, and, ah, yeah, there it is. Nine twenty-two. Just the perfect time for Teru to wake up. They must’ve passed out at one thirty at the earliest, why the hell is everyone awake? Because as he blinks away the weariness from his eyes, he notes that Ritsu is suspiciously not present, even though Kageyama is blissfully sleeping the morning away.

Part of him wants to snuggle back into bed, tug the covers over his head, and sleep until two PM at least, but the smell of actual homecooked food is more enticing than he wants to admit. Teru can’t remember the last time someone cooked a meal for him.

He groans and falls backward onto the futon, covering his face with his hands. Why can’t he eat in his sleep, damnit?

Reigen pokes his head out of the square arch into the kitchenette, “Oh, you’re up! Morning, Hanazawa.”

“Morning,” Teru responds miserably, because he’s miserable. “Why are you up?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Reigen replies, moving back out of Teru’s view. He hears something flip on the pan, “You can go back to sleep if you want, I just thought I’d make breakfast instead of lying on the couch all morning.”

“It’s fine,” Teru says. “Where’s Ritsu?”

“Out on a walk,” Dimple says, floating just barely out of the kitchenette. “Said he needed some fresh air.”

Teru huffs out a breath. Sounds about right. He stretches for a moment, his body still overworked and exhausted from the day prior. Then he’s getting out of bed, grabbing his duffel bag off of the floor, and stepping into the bathroom to get ready, and—holy shit, how long has it been since he’s looked at his reflection? He looks like a mess. Spiky hair flattened against the side of his head from sleep, lips chapped and bags dark beneath his eyes, with acne popping up on his cheeks. Ugh. He washes his face and fluffs his hair, shaking the impression of his pillow out of its shape until he looks a little bit more alive.

Once he’s put his binder on and gotten ready for the day, he steps out of the bathroom to see Reigen carrying two plates of omurice to the coffee table, one already placed there and the other on the desk.

“Hey, mind waking Mob up for me?” Reigen asks, setting the plates down.

Teru nods and goes to shake Kageyama’s shoulder, who wakes up with little fuss, although he still seems dazed and out of it. Teru tries not to find his bedhead endearing. (He fails.)

This time Kageyama’s able to get out of bed, thankfully, even though Teru has to steady him when he almost falls flat on his face on the way to the bathroom. It’s odd to be in an apartment like this, cramped and full of people even with Ritsu out. There’s an uncomfortable juxtaposition, too much too soon, buying a ring that’s tight enough it cuts off your circulation. He appreciates the hospitality, he does, but… he’s ready to go home.  

Unknowing of his internal plight, Reigen starts setting out their cutlery as Kageyama collects himself, Teru fluttering about helping with small chores until theres a knock on the door.

Reigen moves to open it, Teru’s aura steeling itself subconsciously as Dimple floats over curiously, but when the door opens, it’s just Ritsu and… Suzuki?

“Sup,” he says with a little wave, “I’m just here to drop Ritsu off.”

“Were you two meeting outside? You can come in, you know, we were just about to have breakfast. I can whip something up with the leftover food if you want to join us,” Reigen says, and Suzuki’s eyes flick to Teru in the hall, taking in the little he can see from outside the tiny apartment. His aura flares in a split, blink-or-you-miss-it, second, lashing out around him and recoiling just as fast. Teru’s and Ritsu’s eyes go wide, trained on Suzuki-- Teru knows that feeling. It’s fear.

“Nah, it’s fine. I’ve taken up enough of Ritsu’s time.” Suzuki says, the tension in his voice subtle but present.  

“You sure? Considering the gaggle of teenagers I have in here, I don’t really mind adding another,” Reigen says slowly, oblivious to what’s just happened, but having caught onto the sudden stiffness in the air. Suzuki shakes his head.

“I’m good, Serizawa will start fussing if I’m gone for too long,” Suzuki says, and it sounds like an excuse even to Teru. Everything about him screams caution.

Ritsu reaches toward Suzuki wordlessly before his hand drops away.

“If you say so,” Reigen shrugs, and Suzuki smiles.

“Was nice seeing you guys! Tell Ritsu’s bro I say hi!” He says— shouts, really, but that might just be his voice— with all his previous cheer. Then he’s up on the balcony railing, facing the door as a red-orange aura surrounding him like a halo before he falls back with a laugh.

The four of them rush to peer over the edge before they see Suzuki waving up at them as he bounds away from the parking lot with a grin.

“Later!” He shouts belatedly, and three of them shout their goodbyes.

“There’s a staircase, you know!” Reigen says, and Suzuki only laughs in the distance. “Ugh. Teenagers.”

“We’re not that bad,” Teru says with a small smile.

Dimple snorts, “Trust me kid, you’ll get it when you’re older.”

“Maybe because you’re ancient,” Teru snarks, and Dimple laughs, surprisingly not unkindly.

“You’re not wrong, Teru,” Dimple says.

“What’s going on?” Someone says from behind them, and Teru turns to see a significantly more refreshed Kageyama-- and then he yawns, and, yeah, nevermind, Teru assumes he won’t be properly rested for another few days at least. Kageyama’s brain seems to come back online as he sees Ritsu outside, and says, “Oh! Hi, Ritsu. You’re back.”

Ritsu softens at seeing his brother smiling, “I was with Shou. He just showed up because he wanted to see how we were doing.”

“Weren’t you texting him all evening yesterday? Shouldn’t he already know?” Reigen snorts, and Ritsu’s expression turns deadly before he steps into the apartment and closes the door behind him. Reigen looks almost amused before he carries on, “Either way, foods ready if you want to eat.”

—

“Holy shit,” Teru breathes, in between a mouthful of omurice.

“Don’t swear,” Reigen says, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone one-handedly, before looking back up to the headline on the news, “Oh. Huh.”

“Can they really do that? Just… not mention us at all?” Ritsu says turning behind him to look at everyone on the couch. Kageyama is sandwiched between Teru and Reigen, Dimple floating overhead, the couch too small for the five of them—it’s more of a loveseat, anyway-- with Ritsu’s opting to avoid Reigen’s couch completely.

“Guess so,” Reigen replies with a low whistle. The TV is turned onto a local news channel, a professional-looking woman describing the events of the day before.

“How’s it fair that none of us get any credit?” Dimple huffs.

She prattles on about the Prime Minister’s safety, the tree, the end of the evacuation notice, anything and everything except explaining how Claw stepped down. No note of the explosion. No mention of espers (beyond stating that Claw was full of them). Nothing.

“Sectors of Seasoning City, including the following roads, schools, and more will be closed until further notice for infrastructural repairs to the city…” The woman on the news goes on to describe, while a textbox on the side of the screen appears with a list of school boards. Teru is unsurprised to see Black Vinegar listed as canceled for the next week, at the very least, considering how much closer his school was to the Cultural Tower. Not to mention the damage Kageyama did when Teru had met him. They must not want to risk the building, like, collapsing.

He is surprised to note that Salt Middle school is included on the list, though.

“So we won’t have school for a week?” Kageyama clarifies, a small frown on his features.

“At least you get a vacation out of this, huh, Shigeo?” Dimple says, nudging his arm into Kageyama’s side.

“Doesn’t feel like one,” Ritsu says and breathes out a laugh, “I bet Mezato would have a field day with this.”

Kageyama’s eyes narrow, “I don’t really want anyone to find out I made that tree, though. She’s already given me a hard enough time about L.O.L.”

Teru is about to ask who Mezato is before the news reporter catches his ear again.

“Swathes of lower-ranking Claw members have been apprehended by the authorities, and more are expected to follow. There are talks of the President of Claw himself, Suzuki Touichirou, handing himself into the government, but there is no confirmation of whether or not this has happened,” she says, and Teru catches a glance of Ritsu’s expression as she does.

“Is that what you were talking to Suzuki about?” Teru asks, and Ritsu turns to him.

“…Yeah, pretty much,” he sighs, “He’s been trying to deal with it, but apparently Serizawa and Fukuda have insisted he lets everyone else handle it.”

“It’s not his job to handle it,” Reigen says suddenly, “It wasn’t his job to deal with his dad, either. Pretty shitty hand to be dealt if you ask me.”

They’re all silent for a moment, Kageyama almost potently so, his aura bubbling around him. Right. Suzuki was there when Kageyama tried to reason with the President, huh?

“…I think I’m going to go back to bed.” Kageyama gets up, his plate of omurice left half-eaten on the coffee table. The apartment is too small for it to be a dramatic gesture, though, so mostly he walks the three steps over to Reigen’s bed and flops down. Teru gets it, though.

“Do you know if Serizawa and Suzuki and all got somewhere safe last night, Ritsu?” Reigen asks as Kageyama pulls the covers over his head.

“Yeah. I wouldn’t worry about that; they’ve got a lot of connections. Claw was an extensive organization.” Teru doesn’t like the sound of that. There’s a pang of sympathy towards Suzuki—the President is a man that Teru, on the kindest days of his life, would say he utterly despises. He doesn’t want to think about men in business suits at his front door, or arms grabbing him off the street, or windows breaking or the sound of wood splitting or how it was all Suzuki Touichirou’s fault. The fact that Suzuki was his son… Teru’s insides go cold. He is firmly not thinking about it.

“No kidding,” Reigen responds, and things are mostly silent after that.

—

The rest of the day passes in relative boredom. Teru dicks around on his computer, draws in his sketchbook, dicks around on his computer some more, and then it’s dinner and the four of them watch a shitty movie until Teru’s eyes feel like they’re going to fall out. Reigen bickers with the insurance company over the phone for at least three of those hours, until he hangs up with a huff and swats at Dimple who continually laughs at him.

The next two days pass in a similar fashion. Kageyama spends most of the time napping or reading the two volumes of manga Teru brought that he really, really doesn’t feel like rereading, and Teru is tempted to ask Kageyama to read it out loud just so they both have something to do. Reigen spends far too much time on hold over the phone and then lets out a triumphant shout when the call connects, and another later when he finally gets it all sorted and Spirits and Such will have a new, temporary office until the old one is rebuilt. At least one of their living situations is settled.

It's claustrophobic and more than a little uncomfortable. Teru doesn’t have his extensive skincare set, or his instruments, or the peace and quiet of a lone apartment. It’s a constant soundtrack-- Dimple bugging a sleepy Kageyama, the doorbell ringing as takeout is delivered, pans sizzling, channels switching, the rush of water in the bathroom that someone is always using. His face is a mess, and his roots are growing out he doesn’t have any hair dye here and he can’t make a mess of Reigen’s bathroom, anyway. Ritsu takes over Reigen’s desk and the balcony, studying like the ever-responsible one. Reigen lives as normally as he can. While being the pseudo-temporary guardian of three psychic teenagers, that is.

“I’m going to die,” Teru says, lying upside down on the couch. Reigen is balancing his laptop on his knee, responding to emails from a new surge of clients after the Claw attack. Said it was “good for business” and the esper attack “gave him credibility,” as if having an esper like Kageyama on his team wouldn’t do that alone. He turns to Teru and raises an eyebrow.

“You can always call your parents from my phone, Hanazawa. Wouldn’t they be worried by now?” Reigen asks, and Teru chews his lip. It’s gotten raw from how he’s bitten away at the skin, but he doesn’t care.

“It’s fine, they know I can take care of myself,” Teru says, and Reigen does not look convinced. Kageyama gives Teru a Look from across the room, where he’s nestled into the covers in bed and reading since Ritsu left to take a shower—they’re always over an hour long, annoyingly--, and Teru absolutely does not want to deal with the quizzical furrow of Kageyama’s eyebrows.

“Whatever you say, kid.” The moment is, thankfully, interrupted by the door ringing and Reigen sighs but goes to open it.

“Package for Hanazawa Teruki,” A deliveryman says at the door, and Teru lights up, lifting his head off the ground to watch as Reigen takes the small box the man is holding out, turning to Teru with a sort of ‘here you go” expression. Then the blood starts rushing out of his head and it feels really weird, so he flops back down.

Reigen confirms that no signatures are needed, then he’s thanking the delivery guy who heads out with little fuss. Teru watches Reigen shut the door and he’s about to say something before a small box hits him in the side. Finally, Teru hauls himself back to sitting up straight on the couch, tearing the box open. And there it is, a brand-new phone.  

It only takes a few minutes for Teru to set up, adding Reigen’s number from the business card into his contacts, and then more hesitantly handing the phone to Kageyama who looks up from his manga to Teru’s outstretched hand. His eyes widen ever so slightly, and he yawns before taking the phone gently and tapping his and Ritsu’s numbers into Teru’s messages. Teru almost immediately opens Kageyama’s chat, sending a sticker of a cat as a greeting once he returns to his spot on the couch. He catches a small smile on Kageyama’s face, who sends a frog in return, and Teru thinks he’ll treasure this thing forever.

Until he realizes what has to happen now.

“Reigen, can I go out onto the balcony? I need to call my parents,” Teru asks, and Reigen hums in response.

“Yeah, sure thing. Unless you go out front, but one of the neighbors might hear you.” Teru nods, walking into the kitchenette and to the door on the far wall. He unlocks it, stepping onto the balcony—if it can really be called that. The view isn’t very impressive from the second floor.

He shifts the weight of the phone in his hand, a thumb hovering over the contact. It’s easier to focus on the plastic-y railings, the slight wobble where they’re unsteady under Teru’s palm. There are scrapes along the white paint and planter pots lined on each side of the railings with surprisingly healthy plants. Teru thinks one of them might be mitsuba.

The sky is still grey out, but there are people around, now. More cars in the parking lot. Bikes along the sides of the apartment building, and more in the buildings around Reigen’s. It’s good to get the fresh air, to stretch his legs outside of Reigen’s pseudo-studio and feel less like a bird in a cage and more like a human being, reminding himself of the world outside of apartment complexes and small windows.

He's also procrastinating.

…

He clicks the call button.

The word mom pops up on Teru’s screen and his breathing goes funny, odd and heavy in his chest as the phone rings and rings and rings. It must be an eternity; the ten seconds that Teru spends staring wordlessly at the screen. The stopwatch ticks on.

Teru has their time difference memorized. There’s no way they aren’t awake, not when it’s not even noon in Japan-- even for the type of obnoxiously put-together people they are, they don’t sleep that early. The possibility that they could pick up doesn’t make him feel better.

He can’t remember the last time he called his parents—maybe when Claw sent that guy who broke all the windows earlier in the year? He—He doesn’t tell them about the Claw attacks anymore, not all of them, at least. Just the ones they need to sort out with Teru’s landlord.

The call goes to voicemail.

“Please leave your message after the tone,” The automated voice says, and Teru’s aura spikes.

“Hi, mom,” He starts, willing every bone in his body to steady itself, “I don’t know if you’ve seen the news recently, but… Claw staged a terrorist attack and it destroyed most of the city, including the apartment. I’m staying with a friend of a friend right now, but if you can get back to me or my landlord sometime soon, I’d appreciate it.”

He lets out a slow breath as he ends the call. It’s clinical. Business-like. The phone is stuffed back into the pocket of his sweatpants, his hands curled into fists as he regains his composure. He hates this whole… needing his parents for things. It feels fragile, like being made of glass and held directly under sunlight instead of being Hanazawa Teruki, ex-shadow leader of Black Vinegar and someone strong and on top of the world like he used to be. He’s not that person anymore though. Being a big fish in a small pond cradled him, kept him safe and comfortable but the endless ocean leaves him suspended and vulnerable. He still needs to remind himself that the humility isn’t a bad thing.

Teru shuts his eyes and lets the wind wash over him, drinking in the sounds of people and cars and birds and air rustling leaves as his forearms rest on the railing. It loosens the knot in his stomach by just a little, the feeling synchronized to his breathing.

“Hanazawa?” A soft voice asks behind him at some point, and Teru turns to see Kageyama cautiously opening the balcony door, stepping out onto the cramped balcony, and moving to avoid bumping into the washing machine.

He stops in front of the railing, about to speak before his eyes dart to Teru’s expression, “Are you okay?”

He looks as surprised as Teru is to hear it, but Teru offers him a weak smile in response.

“I’m fine. They were busy, is all.”

“Oh. Do your parents not normally pick up the phone?”

There’s no point lying to Kageyama. There isn’t. He knows, he’s seen Teru’s home and it’s left him cut open like a filleted fish.  

“No,” he responds breathlessly, “They don’t.”

Kageyama’s lips flatten into a thin line. His hand comes up onto the railing, looking out from their shitty-vantage point over the city while he thinks it over, turning it over mentally.

“They don’t seem like very good parents,” He decides, eventually, voice quiet, and Teru isn’t sure what to say to that. He opens his mouth to say something, to demand that Kageyama take it back, that they don’t pick up calls because they know Teru is mature and can handle himself, that Teru doesn’t need to be babied and he’s better off for it, to declare that no one else can judge his family situation because they don’t know it as well he does.

That would be cruel though, and he knows Kageyama wouldn’t deserve it. Teru doesn’t end up saying anything.

“Suzuki fixed our house,” Kageyama says after a while, the silence sitting heavy, “Ritsu got out of the shower a bit ago and told me we could go back today. We have to move all our stuff into the right spots, though, so our parents don’t get suspicious.”

“That’s not going to be easy,” Teru muses, “Won’t they see the news, though? Or the tree?”

“…Oh. Um, yeah, but they won’t figure out Suzuki burnt down our house. I think my mom would be a lot more upset about that.” Teru laughs at that, a feather-soft sound and he feels Kageyama’s aura lighten, even by an drop.

“What’s your mom like?” Teru asks, but he doesn’t really know why. Maybe just to hear Kageyama talk.

He hums, gathering his thoughts again. Kageyama’s always taken his time in responding, ordering his words into sometimes clumsy but endearing and deeply genuine answers. It leaves him awestruck, something that Teru would’ve found obnoxious or annoying months ago, but now it’s just… calm. Like the whole world will slow for Kageyama, and Teru is more than okay to watch it happen.

“She cares a lot. I know she gets really worried sometimes, and mostly I think she just wants me to control my powers because she doesn’t want me to get hurt. She knows it’s hard for me to talk sometimes, so usually, she lets me be until I need her. She’s good like that,” Kageyama says, the words coming more confidently as he talks. The love for his family is so clear, bleeding into his aura the more he thinks it over and the hues of purple and pink and blue are so intoxicating that Teru might drown in them. If Kageyama can see the admiration in Teru’s own sun-bright hues… Teru doesn’t suppose that’s so awful. There’s worse to look up to, and Kageyama is by no means a bad thing.

“She sounds incredible,” Teru says.

“She is,” Kageyama responds, with surprisingly little hesitation.

“So you’re heading back home?” Teru asks, changing the topic. This feeling is too tender, too close to something Teru doesn’t want to examine closely.

He nods, “I wanted to let you know before we leave. We’re going to the train station soon if you want to walk with us, but I don’t know if Shishou would want to leave you alone here anyway.”  

Teru’s smile turns thin. He appreciates Reigen’s efforts, he does, but… Teru isn’t a little kid. The thought thrashes, ironically childishly, and he isn’t sure how much longer being here is going to work. He just. He needs space. He needs fewer eyes on him; he needs his stuff and his life back and everything to be less messy.

So why does the idea of going back to his apartment feel so… daunting?

There’s a lump in his throat.

“Okay.”

He swallows it down.

Kageyama nods and goes back inside.

—

It’s two p.m. by the time they’re walking to the train. With most of their stuff strewn about the apartment in the three nights they’d stayed over, it’d taken some time for the Kageyamas to gather their things. Ritsu more so, but that may have been because he wasn’t sleeping all day.

Teru had miscalculated how fast the city would fill back up with people, everything looking nearly the same as before the attack except… well, exploded to shit. People fill the streets in small clusters as construction workers use their shifts to repair the roads. Cars are parked on the sidelines, machinery in the center of the street parting the small crowd like water.

Kageyama shuffles from between Ritsu and Reigen to move next to Teru, farthest away from the road, and Teru notes the strain in his posture. His aura is barely contained in a way Teru has never seen, and his hand which isn’t busy with his bags is fidgeting restlessly as they walk to the station. Kageyama is rarely restless.

Reigen is telling a story about one of his customers, likely one Kageyama hadn’t been helping him with if his friend’s initial rapt attention is anything to go by. Dimple is absent, sneaking up on Suzuki and the rest of Claw from what Teru understands. He doesn’t really care for Dimple, but knowing that someone is keeping an eye on it all makes Teru relax. Ritsu, however, looks like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Hey Mob, what’s up? Don’t tell me you got bored already, I’m just getting to the best part!” Reigen complains, lighthearted, and Kageyama’s face changes, near imperceptible. A slight downward turn of the lip. It’s gone in less than a second, but Teru likes to think he’s gotten better at telling the difference between Kageyama’s expressions, as minute as they may be. This expression, though… isn’t so positive.

“Sorry, Shishou. It’s just… It’s loud here,” Kageyama says, “I don’t like it.”

Between the chatter of people and machines, Teru can definitely hear it. Years spent walking home alone, navigating through the city, have numbed him enough to tune out the noise as his focus trained on his way home, eyes darting to every stranger for marks of Claw. Changing up his route and taking the long way around.  Making patterns and breaking them, over and over just to ensure no one stuck to his trail; main road, park, parking lot. Never alleys or quiet streets. Nowhere without eyes on him.

Reigen’s face scrunches similarly, “Sorry kid, there are only a few more streets until the station. Wanna take the inner roads, or do you think you can stick it out for a bit?”

Kageyama is about to speak before Teru interrupts.

“Wait,” he says and lifts a hand up. His aura settles over Kageyama’s head like earmuffs, muting the noise outside of their little bubble, “Is that better?”

Kageyama blinks, surprised, but he gradually loosens up, even if his hand is still restlessly tugging at the hem of his sleeve. The slow smile he offers Teru is far more genuine than before though, and Teru considers that a win.

“Thank you, Hanazawa,” Kageyama says, “I think I’m okay now.”

“Glad to hear it, Brother,” Ritsu says.

Reigen returns to telling impassioned stories for the rest of the commute, all while Kageyama tries not to yawn impolitely. Not that any of them would consider it rude, considering he’s struggled to stay awake for more than half an hour in the past three days, but that’s Kageyama.

The train station is just as crowded. Kageyama’s aura prickles beneath them, calmer than before but uncomfortable either way. People are returning home from last-minute evacuations, others leaving the city in the midst of danger, and some making the commute to work, having already settled back into the rhythm of life. Reigen probably would as well, if not for… the lack of an office. Even with the replacement being sorted, the guilt gnawing at his stomach grows. Teru understands living alone. Finances aren’t his area of expertise, sure, but he keeps track of most things, especially as of late. What he owes his parents in rough numbers—rent, groceries, apartment repairs. Anything.

(Maybe one day he’ll become a teacher and pay it all off. Ensure that there’s nothing he owes anyone, ever. But that edges closer to that endless feeling of being untethered. Less like being thrown into the sky and feeling effortlessly and unimaginably tiny, and more like being suspended in the air by a single cord.

Besides, he’s not sure teachers make that much money, anyway.)

What he does know is that having three hungry teenagers in your apartment isn’t exactly cheap.

He could… well, between the Awakening Lab and getting his apartment back in place, he’ll be a little busy, but it nags at Teru to not have anything to offer in return, here. A gift, maybe? But he can’t exactly hand him a wad of cash... Is it weird to get your friend’s mentor a gift in the first place?

Then Reigen speaks, distracting him out of his mental tangent, “Okay, do you two need help with anything here?”

“We’re fine, thanks,” Ritsu answers, a little flatly.

“Thank you Shishou. Let me know if anything happens. See you, Hanazawa,” Kageyama says, smiling. He still looks jittery, especially now that he’ll have to rely on his own or Ritsu’s ESP to block out the loudness of the station, but he’s significantly calmer than before.

“Bye you two! Good luck with the house,” Teru says with a wave when the two wave back, beginning to move away with their bags over their shoulders.

“I’ll call you when the office is fixed, Mob,” Reigen calls, and then they’re off into the crowd of commuters. Teru hopes Kageyama will be okay.

“Well,” Reigen sighs as the two walk off, slapping a hand onto Teru’s shoulder, “Time to head back, huh, Hanazawa?”

—

“You called your parents, earlier, right?” Reigen asks as they make their way down the street.

“Yeah, they didn’t pick up, though,” Teru says, aiming for casual and conversational.

“Uh-huh. Do they do that a lot?”

Teru hums, unsure how to respond, “Not on purpose.”

Reigen lets out an exhale closer to a sigh. Teru’s hands stuff themselves into his pockets, fiddling with the case-less exterior of his new phone. He should make a little charm for it. And add stickers when he gets the chance.

“I’m sure it’s not,” Teru doesn’t like this line of conversation. Reigen keeps speaking, “Do you think they’ll get back to you today?”

Teru bites at his lip again, an awful little habit. The main reason why he keeps chapstick in his pocket daily.

“I think so. They’re busy people, though.”

Reigen makes a small contemplative sound, and, not for the first time, Teru wishes he could read his aura. Any spike or change in the temperature around him, a tinge of color beneath his hands, anything.

But there’s no pink or orange below his scuffed-up shoes. Nothing to identify what he’s thinking beyond his carefully blank expression, and despite his expressiveness, Teru thinks Reigen could be a pretty decent poker player.

(Which is unfortunate for him, because deciphering the actions and thoughts of a grown man is a lot harder than Teru’s middle-school peers.)

“They work a lot?” Reigen asks, innocently. Inquisitively. And if Teru were anyone else, it might be.

“My dad’s a businessman,” Teru answers, equally innocent. If he’s bluffing about where Mr. and Mrs. Hanazawa work, that’s nobody’s business but his own. “My mom’s an editor. They have a lot on their plate.”

“Ah,” Reigen says as if understanding everything, then mutters under his breath, “That type.”

“That type?”

“Don’t worry about it. Hey, we’re home!”

Teru looks away from Reigen to see, and… they sure are. Huh. Teru must have gotten distracted on the walk here, because Dimple is waiting outside impatiently, floating while tapping his fingers against his arms. He perks up as Teru and Reigen approach.

“Jeez, where the hell were you two?” He asks, like a bitch.

“Dropping off Mob and his brother,” Reigen replies. “Something wrong?”

“Nah, just wanted to let to update you on the Suzuki Claw situation.” Teru’s eyebrows raise, suddenly very interested in this conversation.

The three of them head up the outdoor stairs, moving to enter the apartment while Dimple explains himself.

“So, Suzuki and his lackeys are in contact with the President,” Dimple starts, and Teru mentally braces himself, “But it sounds like he’s really going to give himself in.”

Wait… what?

“What?” Teru says before he can stop himself.

“Yeah, they’ve been making negotiations with the government and everything,” Dimple says as Reigen unlocks the door, pushing it open to walk in while Teru follows.

“I guess there are a lot of people who’d want to negotiate for their own safety during this,” Reigen reasons, but Teru’s still lagging behind a little.

“How is he just giving in like that? It’s been… what, twenty years? He’s just… giving up?” Teru asks, and if his voice is verging on hysterical neither of them says anything.  

“Guess so.” Reigen sits down on the couch with a groan.

That… can’t be right, though? Logically Teru knows that Claw was over when the President blew up, but to have the entire organization just fall apart, everything gone within days that have felt like minutes… it’s surreal. He felt it when he walked home, a brief feeling washing over him in the dark. That feeling was stuffed away just as quickly, sorted away into a box and to be dealt with at a later date. There’s no reason to be surprised. He watched it all happen, saw his friend change another life and thousands of others because that’s what he does. He’s in Seasoning City alone, for this. He’s in Reigen’s apartment instead of his wrecked one for this. He was almost killed for this.

And there’s that weird, untethered feeling again, rising up, floating algae on water and Teru is so, so, not thinking about it.

He slumps onto the couch next to Reigen, staring at his denim-covered knees and picking at the threads.

“So what do we do now?” Teru asks and Reigen huffs out a breath.

“What do we do? We do nothing. Leave this to everyone else, kid. It’s not our mess to deal with anymore,” Reigen responds, and Teru’s eyes narrow.

“How? There has to be something. I’ve dealt with Claw my whole life, I could help defeat the other division leaders,” Teru tries to reason, but Reigen and Dimple only look at him blankly.

“You’ve… dealt with Claw your whole life?” Reigen asks slowly, and Teru rolls his eyes.

“Well, yeah. I don’t know how the Kageyama’s avoided them for so long; they’ve been after me since I was a kid. Defeating them is child’s play, though, and without their leader’s power behind them, I doubt that defeating the rest of them will be difficult,” Teru says like it’s obvious. Isn’t it common knowledge that Claw tries to initiate naturals? For a long time, Teru assumed that’s why he never met any others before Kageyama, like he was the only one strong enough to avoid being kidnapped. Obviously, that’s blatantly untrue now, but it was another fragile lie pinning up his façade before Kageyama snapped him out of it.

Reigen and Dimple are silent for a second, and Teru shifts uncomfortably in his seat. That was a normal thing to bring up, why are they acting like Teru’s just admitted to a heinous crime? Their eyes dart to each other before Dimple chooses his words carefully.

“They tried kidnapping you?” Dimple asks.

“As a kid?” Reigen adds, and Teru’s mouth goes a little dry.

“I guess you could say it like that. It never worked, though, most of their agents were pretty weak,” Teru says, and it feels like a weak defense. Reigen takes a deep breath.

“Huh. Okay,” Reigen says, and Teru wants out of this conversation. Why are they acting like that? It’s not that weird. Surely Kageyama has dealt with other espers attacking him before, right? Even Reigen and Dimple’s combined expressiveness has lessened, Dimple floating up and down in place while Reigen’s hands are uncomfortably still.

“Okay. Teru, that’s… really messed up. But this isn’t your job to deal with. Leave it to the adults to handle things, okay?” Oh. Reigen doesn’t call him by his first name. Still, the lesson doesn’t feel right taught to him, like a too-small t-shirt. He can deal with this, he’s not an adult but he can do everything they can-- minus the legal stuff.

“…Okay?” He says, mildly confused, and Reigen stands up.

“I’m… gonna go make lunch. You want anything?”

“…Sure,” Teru replies, and Reigen nods, followed by Dimple into the kitchenette, leaving Teru alone on the couch, staring at his reflection in the black screen of the TV.

What the hell was that about?

—

kageyama!! :)

hi hanazawa

The notification lights up Teru’s phone where he’s sitting sprawled against the arm of the couch. It’s later in the evening, sketchbook in hand as he draws pages upon pages. Pens, pencils, and highlighters are splayed on the coffee table just within his reach, headphones over his ears while Reigen types away answering “emails” (Teru is ninety percent sure he’s just getting into arguments online) at his desk. He seems to have gotten distracted after lunch, having spent the entire time whispering to Dimple out of earshot before he overcooked the rice and had to order food anyway.

Teru digs his phone out to stare at the text before hurriedly opening up the message.

teru!!!!!!!!!!!!  

kageyama! i wasnt expecting a text from you so soon!! :o
how was your train ride?

It takes a few moments before Kageyama responds, and Teru watches the ellipses on the screen pop up, disappear, and reappear as Kageyama takes the time to type back.

kageyama!! :)

it was okay, i fell asleep
ritsu had to wake me up when we got home

teru!!!!!!!!!!!!

haha is that so?? hopefully you get to rest up before school starts again!!!
have you two managed to get your house in order yet?

kageyama!! :)

ritsu did
i passed out again when we got home so he put everything back
i just woke up but i wish he woke me up sooner so i couldve helped

teru!!!!!!!!!!!!

i see :( well, i’m sure he understands!!! you’ve got a lot going on kageyama :o
anyone would be exhausted in your position

kageyama!! :)

i guess so

Kageyama continues typing for a few moments before the ellipses fall away completely, a frown falling onto Teru’s face. Well, he guesses that conversation is over. Part of him wants to keep talking anyway, just to keep the conversation going, but he figures Kageyama isn’t really a texter to begin with. It isn’t the same, they can’t get the same comfortable silence and Teru doesn’t want to pressure Kageyama into talking more than he’s willing to. Though… if he’s open to the idea, maybe it means it’d be okay to spend time together outside of saving Ritsu, or, well… the world.

That thought is exciting enough, whether it’s picking up Kageyama after school, or—oh! There’s that café he likes, maybe Teru could show him his favorite parts of the city? He’s had enough time to explore on his own, and there are so many art supply shops, quaint bookstores, and secret spots in the libraries that he’s never had the chance to show off. The frown on his face disappears despite himself, ideas flitting through his head.

It's not like he didn’t have friends growing up. He’s friends with loads of people! Like Edano and that girl he… never texted back, or the boys on the soccer team and pretty much the entire second-year population.

So what if they barely speak outside of class? They count, and it doesn’t really matter either way. Teru’s taken plenty of people around the city, to whatever park or ice cream place they pleased, even if they were mostly empty dates with popular girls whom he’d break up with after a week or two. And if Teru refused to let them see his apartment. Or to take them to his actual favorite places.

He’s not stupid. Sure, most of his peers wanted to be his friend for the status-- and the study notes. It’s not like it’s a big deal, Teru can handle himself, but if this is the type of friendship he’s been missing out on… maybe the other kids had a point.

Maybe there’s more to this stuff than he gave credit for.

He’s getting ahead of himself though. This is a glimmer of hope more than anything, all Kageyama did was message him. Teru should ask if he’d want to hang out.

A few moments of staring at his keyboard immediately dismantles that hope. Nope, nope, no way. What if he says no? Not that he would, because he’s Kageyama, but what if he does anyway? It’s too risky. He has to keep assessing the situation and win Kageyama over if need be because there’s no way Teru’s going to advance without knowing what he’s getting himself into.

Could he ask Ritsu? He has his number along with Kageyama’s, but that feels overly formal and it’s not like he’s not asking for Ritsu’s blessing along with his brother’s hand in marriage. Which. The thought of that makes Teru’s face heat up so fast but he is not thinking about it. He is so firmly not thinking about it that he could direct and plan the Prime Minister of Japan on how to rebuild and repair the infrastructure of Seasoning City with how focused on not-that he is. Or you know, some other productive thing.

…Embarrassing mental tangent aside, he’s only asking to hang out. As a friend. Because that’s what friends do. So, it would be weird to make it a bigger deal than it has to be.

Bottom line, he isn’t asking Ritsu, and he isn’t asking Kageyama.

Then his phone pings again and Teru almost jumps.

kageyama!! :)

sorry, my parents just got home and i was talking to them
youre right
i think ill try to make it up to him anyway
but thats kind of you to say hanazawa
:)

Teru smiles. Yeah, maybe they’ll be okay.

—

“Did you say your favorite movie was Flying Dead Pig? Aren’t you too young for that?” Reigen asks.

“You have a poster of it,” Teru points out.

“And I’m twice your age,” Reigen replies, deadpan.

“Yeah, yeah, we get it, you’re old,” Dimple interrupts, much to Reigen’s sputtering dismay, “I’m sure I did the same when I was alive, Hanazawa. It just means you’re one of the cool kids.”

Dimple’s semi-corporeal arm nudges into Teru’s side with a laugh, and he’s not sure that’s the type of thing he should be encouraging, but if it supports his point, well, who’s counting, right?

Deciding on a movie has turned out to be a far more difficult affair than expected, having gone through convenience-store dinner (which is, admittedly, a comfort food) already while the clock ticks further, further, further. Teru’s stolen the throw on the couch and wrapped it around himself, curling up against the side of the couch after Reigen insisted Teru wouldn’t touch the thermostat because he “prefers the cold”.

“Yeah, Reigen. I’m one of the cool kids,” Teru jokes dryly.

“You are both menaces.” Reigen groans and flips through another few movies. “Oh, here, how about this?”

“Didn’t this movie just come out? I think Shigeo wanted to watch it with his family,” Dimple muses as the screen settles on a stop-motion film. It appears to be about a sailor lost at sea, some fantastical setting mixed in with mythological creatures that Teru would itch to draw or design something off of. His phone rings before he can say anything or settle in after almost an hour of indecision, and Teru pulls it out to see a call coming in from his mother. It’s almost ten. Teru should have realized his parents would be awake by now.

He looks to Reigen and Dimple apologetically, “I’m gonna go take this.”

Reigen nods, muttering a small, “Go ahead.”

He’s looking at him like that again, less calculating but still observant. It’s another incentive to head out onto the balcony again, at least, not that he needs it.

Teru clicks accept as the door closes behind him, cool air ruffling his hair. Seasoning is exceptionally darker and intimidating at this hour, when the sky is inky and black everywhere the lights of the city don’t reach. It isn’t comforting.

“Hello?” Teru says as the call connects.

“Teruki?” His mom asks almost at the same time.

“Hi, mom. I’m guessing you got my voicemail.”

There’s shuffling on the other end of the line, and then his father is speaking into the phone, “We did. We heard about Seasoning City. You’re at a friend’s place, you said?”

Teru’s hand stills on the railing. Usually, he speaks to his mother alone during these calls and the change doesn’t settle well in his stomach. Being outside this late already sets him into disarray, with too many bad experiences with Claw agents in the windows and waiting until he gets the craving for late-night convenience food weighing on him. It’s not like they could hear it, but Teru wants so badly to tug on the sleeves of his sweatshirt, to buzz his aura over his palms, or sway in place to calm himself. Yet, he can hear what his parents would say in perfect detail. Quit that. Sit still, won’t you?

He takes a breath, “Yeah, my apartment is completely wrecked, though.”

“We can get that sorted. Same landlord, right?”

“Yep,” Teru exhales through his teeth. If they’d changed landlords, he’d email them-- like they’d agreed to for all non-essential things.

His father hums, and then his mom is back on the phone. Okay, good. Back to common ground. “And you’re doing okay?” she asks, not… unkindly, he guesses.

“I’m fine.” If his tone is too resigned, too sharp, too much of anything, they don’t point it out. They don’t tend to.

“Are you sure, Teruki? Your voice sounds a little different,” she asks, with more concern than he’s heard from her in… so long, and-- Oh. Oh fuck. He didn’t think they’d notice that.

“I’m okay,” He answers too quickly, “Probably just the audio quality.”

“If you say so,” she replies slowly, and god, please let her just drop this. This can’t be how his parents find out he’s a boy now. Then she adds, “We heard Claw might disband.”

She says it almost conversationally, and it’s a relief even if Teru doesn’t want to know what talking about this will entail. Will he have to uproot himself? Is he being emancipated? Are they going to send him business-class tickets to America and make him pack his life away again?  

“They’re already disbanded,” Teru corrects. It’s pedantic.

“...Ah, well. We can’t know that for sure, right?” She asks.

“I watched their leader blow up,” Teru says, and that catches her attention.

“…Oh. That’s… good to hear. It may not be safe either way, I mean… who knows what other cults like that are out there?” Ah. Teru gets it now. Rocks sink in his stomach—he knew he’d never move back in with his parents again, and he’s known since he was eleven, but to hear his mom completely shut down the possibility…

“Yeah,” his voice is soft, barely audible under the loudness in his head, “You’re right.”

“Stay safe, Teruki,” His mom says, and it’s the closest thing to affection that he’s heard from her.

“You too,” he says, voice hoarse with the sudden tightness in his throat. The call beeps off, the screen returning to normal as he shoves it into his pocket, blinking away the moisture in his eyes. Breathe, Hanazawa, breathe.

He does until the tension in his voice subsides. It ebbs and flows away as the night breeze washes over him, the chill notable where his face is warm with emotion and damp on his cheeks. Teru brings a bright lime sleeve up to his eyes, wiping it away in swift motions before he collects himself enough to head back inside.

There’s nothing he wants less than to have to interact with anyone after that, Teru’s usual M.O. of curling up in bed and pretending he doesn’t exist ruined without the privacy of his own room. He can’t just leave, though, so with a sigh he opens the door, hoping the dim light of the apartment isn’t enough for Reigen or Dimple to note the worn look on his face.

When Teru sits back down on the couch, Reigen and Dimple look up at him from Reigen’s phone expectantly. Right. Reigen most likely wants Teru out of his hair as much as Teru himself does. He hates to be the bearer of bad news.

“They’re getting it sorted,” Teru says, explaining as little as possible, watching Reigen’s eyebrows quirk.

“Your parents are back in the city, right?” Reigen clarifies, and Teru nods tersely.

“They told me to stay here if it’s okay with you. My dad said he wasn’t sure how long it’d take.” Teru tries to keep his sentences short and clipped, using as little information as possible. Usually, he’d make a story and stick with it, but being in Reigen’s apartment is a lot more… difficult. Too many opportunities to mess it up. Too many close quarters.

“It’s fine,” Reigen replies a little distantly, and miraculously he doesn’t push further. Dimple is watching wide-eyed but silent, and Teru deeply, deeply hopes he won’t say anything to fuck this up. It’s risky even mentioning his parents around Dimple, assuming he hasn’t told Reigen already, but… A ghost can’t do much about his living situation without revealing himself to authorities or possessing someone. Reigen can.

God, what has he gotten himself into?

“So,” Teru’s voice sounds more cheerful than he feels, “are we watching this movie or what?”

Reigen smiles weakly, “Sure thing, Hanazawa.”

Surprisingly, the movie helps-- or the company does, because Reigen and Dimple talk all throughout it, sometimes pausing the film for them to ramble on about some inane tangentially related thing that makes Teru laugh despite himself. It’s interesting to watch how they interact, all ribbing and teasing like an intricate dance that would seem cruel to anyone watching from the outside. But they take it in stride, genuine joy in each other’s faces when one of them challenges or boasts to the other. Something in him aches to see how easily they speak to each other while Teru’s words stay stuck in his throat.

He starts to offer a few comments, though, interjecting the other two’s back-and-forth with small and insubstantial nothings, but they both respond so earnestly and positively that he can’t help but talk more until he feels a little bit more like himself, talking too much and always a little too loudly.

“There have to be, like, seventeen different sentient species in this world, how is there an uninhabited island that big?” Teru questions as the protagonist of the movie is stranded in a seemingly endless maze of fog and trees. Somehow, there hasn’t been a single other being there, sentient or otherwise.

“Maybe he’s being tricked by a siren,” Dimple says.

“There haven’t even been sirens in this movie,” Reigen scoffs, and Dimple glares at him, the blue tones from the screen illuminating the screen and making him look closer to teal.

“Not yet, dumbass. That’s why it’d be a twist,” Dimple argues back.

“What kind of sea-movie doesn’t have sirens?” Teru agrees, and Dimple nods, although he doesn’t really… have a neck… so he moves his whole not-body with it.

“Exactly, Reigen.”

Reigen groans, “You two are the worst. It’s not fucking sirens.”

It ends up being sirens. Teru and Dimple give him shit for it for the rest of the evening.

Somehow, it’s the warmest he’s felt in a very long time.

—

The next week with Reigen is this: An email from his landlord telling Teru he can return to his apartment after seven days. Spirits and Such reopening in a temporary office. Teru resolving to act diligently as Kageyama’s replacement while he recovers, repaying Reigen as discretely as possible. Texting Kageyama every chance he gets. Takoyaki and tea. Picking up the latest volume of One Punch Man to read during the quiet hours, laying on his stomach on the couch and listening to the music on the radio until their next client comes in. Watching the news. Reporters talking calmly and neutrally because Suzuki Touichirou is in jail/government custody/locked up forever, forever, forever. Black Vinegar being closed for another week and a half. Learning to exorcise spirits on the fly, getting better with every other haunted person that comes in, all while realizing Reigen is more of a massage therapist than a businessman. Eavesdropping on calls between Reigen and that former Claw member, deciding to step out warily when he comes in for an interview and leaves with a shaved beard and a haircut.

Three hundred yen being pressed into Teru’s palm. Sneaking it back into the register. Dimple flitting between the Kageyama’s, him and Reigen, and Suzuki, updating periodically before the visits to Suzuki and the Claw members peter out and he’s perching on every surface in the office (including atop Reigen’s head). Doodles on every page lying on the coffee table and desks. Taking pictures of the city through the windows and drawing on the glass when its cold while Reigen finishes closing up, leaving by six forty everyday, sharp. Grabbing dinner on the way home and collapsing onto the couch to watch movies that become more like background music, and then talking over them because there’s nothing else to do. Homesickness. Waiting for Reigen to pry, for the next shoe to drop, getting tense even though the only thing Reigen does is act weirdly kind. Significant looks from Dimple every time he pops by. Feeling stuck in place. Claustrophobic. Laundry on the balcony, re-wearing the same pajama’s all week, grimy. Finding out Kageyama likes frogs and bugs, looking for cute videos and drawings of them to send him every night as an excuse to talk to him. Lights out at eleven. Reigen staying up on his computer in the dark, watching documentaries at low volume, scrolling through his phone on the couch or in bed when he thinks Teru is asleep. Lying awake, tossing and turning in fits of restlessness. Grateful, but entirely caged in.

—

The day Teru can go back home, he’s packing his things as fast as he can without Reigen noticing. His clothes conveniently fold themselves neatly into his duffle bag the night before, stationary moving back into his pencil case and backpack, because he’s an organized kid like that and certainly not because he’s ready to lie on his floor for a few hours without anyone there to judge him.

He's bouncing on his heels by the door while he rereads the email his parents forwarded to him, looking over the time he can head back home even though he’s read it four times already.  

“You’re eager to get back home,” Reigen snorts, mug of tea in hand, and Teru stills. Ah. He’s not as subtle as he thought.

“I don’t mean any offense, I just don’t want to overstay my welcome,” Teru says diplomatically, “It’s been kind of you to let me stay here.”

Reigen raises his hands as if in defense, nearly spilling some tea, “I wasn’t judging you, Hanazawa. This place isn’t exactly a luxury mansion,” Reigen snorts, “And besides, you don’t need to keep thanking me. I’m not gonna let a kid sleep in the streets, I’m no monster.”

Teru’s lips flatten into a thin line, feeling guilty.

“Still,” Teru sighs, “It’s not like it was one night. If you need another esper at Spirits and Such, you know where to find me- it’s the least I can do. I can’t guarantee I’ll be free because of the Awakening Lab, but I’m sure I can take a few of Kageyama’s shifts.”

Reigen’s eyebrows raise. “If it’ll keep you from a guilty conscience,” he huffs, amused and patting Teru on the shoulder. “Do you need me to drop you off at the train station? I… don’t actually know how far your apartment is.”

Teru smiles politely and says, “That’s fine. I can walk, it isn’t too far. I walked to get here, anyway.”

“Alright. And… Hanazawa, listen, if you need a place to stay again, consider my door open, okay? I’m only a call away,” Reigen says, voice a little strained, and Teru gapes at him. That’s… big. It’s also more than he could ever expect from Reigen, who, honest to god, almost looks pained after saying it. A pity offer, then, Teru decides, though he’s not sure what Reigen would pity about him. Then, he surprises him by adding: “As long as you’re chipping in at Spirits and Such, of course. I can’t have any more freeloaders in here-- I mean, I already have Dimple.”

That startles a laugh out of Teru. Okay, maybe not a pity offer.

“Sure thing, Reigen. I’ll make sure to clock in tomorrow morning, bright and early,” He jokes along and Reigen grins behind his mug.

“You better. Get home safe, Hanazawa.”

Teru smiles and reaches for the door handle. “I will.”

Chapter Text

Teru’s bedroom looks exactly the same as before it was destroyed. The door creaks as it hits the doorstop, Teru standing in the entrance taking it all in. Sturdy floorboards. New windows. Replaced furniture. Homely messes instead of smashed-through walls and floors where, were Teru someone different, he might have died. 

But he didn’t, and the stacks of his things are still sitting in front of his closet. His bed is still unmade and there are wood chips all over the comforter, likely lost between the mattress and bedframe and every obscure corner Teru won’t think to check. Loose school papers and notebooks are sitting atop a no-longer-destroyed desk, and the stale smell hits him after days spent in a somewhat-ventilated apartment with a balcony, like he hasn’t cracked open a window in months. Which… is probably true, thinking about it.

This is a familiar routine by now. Clean up after an attack, return to life as normal, forget to dust or broom or god forbid mop for another several weeks-months, repeat.

He sighs and drops his duffel and backpack in the doorway, getting ready to get to work. By the time Black Vinegar opens, he’ll be kissing a neat apartment goodbye.

It takes time, shaking out the splinters on his pillowcases onto the floor and sweeping them up. Moving the papers back into the desk, struggling not to get distracted in the pages of old sketchbooks and assignments, organizing and reorganizing until his room is some semblance of normal– for a fourteen year old boy, at least. He’s not a goddamn saint. 

There are two things that give him pause.  

A). The emergency bag stuffed under his bed. In it are a few days worth of clothes, a spare toothbrush, and over 10 000 yen stuffed into his socks. His mini-first aid kit, filled with instruments for severe situations, is tucked between t-shirts along with his spare binder and a sports bra when he’s too overexerted for even that. It’s a security measure, plain and simple.  

Bringing it to Reigen’s wouldn’t have been necessary. Most likely, that would’ve raised more questions than he’d want, but it’s damn useful when he needs to use the Black Vinegar locker room to wash up after a nasty fight. Or when he lies his way into staying at a hostel or motel until he’s recovered enough to return home.  

B). A makeup bag in the bathroom. Not the palettes to the side, filled with electric neon and bright hues—he’s barely experimented with those yet–, no, instead it’s his post-fight set.  The brushes and plastic stowed away into a small, clear case, inoffensive enough for his eyes to gloss over every morning without taking note. 

It’s made of foundation and concealer, some of which are matched to his skin tone and others in greens, reds, and blues to cover or neutralize a bruise. There’s one matched to his exact shade hidden in a compartment of his bag, with his chapsticks and period supplies where he can pretend it’s there to cover up zits and acne, because Teru used to be someone who might do that. He’s learned the hard way that showing up to school with a black eye every other week will only get you a call home. He knows better than to let that happen anymore. 

It might’ve been a point of pride years ago that he’s barely touched either lately, but it hollows him out instead. Because he still has them. Just in case a Claw agent gets the drop on him (when they haven’t in months) because if they burn his arm or scrape his knees or bruise his face he’s fucked. Just in case they get him in his apartment and he needs to be somewhere else immediately. Just in case something goes awry.

It’s a stain. A token of paranoia, because even if Teru takes down every Claw member assigned to his case with a flick of his wrist, it hasn’t always been that way. And now, more than ever with phantom aches in place of psychically healed bruises, does Teru realize that.  

Maybe it’s the shame swirling in his gut or the bite of his pride that makes him impulsively empty the bag into the garbage. The plastic clatters against the side of the bin, sound muffled by the trash at the bottom, tumbling into the bag he needs to empty and replace. He doesn’t empty the emergency bag. Teru can’t bring himself to get rid of it just yet, even if he wants to.

Things are going to be different, Teru vows to himself.  

— 

The rest of the weekend goes by unremarkably. He gets celebratory dinner. Binges a TV show until four in the morning. Does groceries and watches a cooking tutorial before failing miserably and eating instant ramen anyway. He stares at the ceiling until he falls asleep, then wakes up in the middle of the night and stares at the ceiling for a little longer.  

It’s a typical weekend. 

Seasoning city seems to be alight, changes being made with every passing moment, reports on Japan’s safety written daily, but it’s unremarkable. Teru will continue with his weekend, minutes passing by as slowly as they always do, and come the next Monday he’ll be back at Black Vinegar, to the security of daily routine. Rinse and repeat. Hell, Teru had a hand in saving the world, however much of a tween pipe dream that sounds like. Yet despite that, being within the midst of a national catastrophe feels… dull. Like Kageyama dealt the finishing blow and all that’s left is to watch Claw unravel and the world sort the rest out without him. Teru’s dreamt of the day it would all be over; ten years old and narrated in comic book colors, bold and bright and being the hero who takes down the bad guy.  

But now he’s older and it’s happened, and Teru doesn’t know what to do .   

His hands open up the Awakening Lab’s group chat before he can think about it. He has responsibilities, things to get done. Maybe he just needs a distraction.  

teru!!!!!!!!!!!!
hi everyone! it’s been a while. how are you all holding up?  

Kurosaki responds almost immediately; she always does. It’s endearing in a sense, even if her obvious crush is a little… uncomfortable. Teru’s had his fair share of admirers, sure, but it’s different like this: with someone who knows he’s an esper, instead of him hiding it uselessly, and hangs around him anyway.  And, well, Teru actually cares about her opinion, so...

kurosaki! :3
hey hanazawa!!! ive been okay :)
my parents have been fussing over me all week but what can u expect haha :p  

hoshino
same here
im just happy we get to skip school

kurosaki! :3
yeah :p i could use the break honestly
i think i might get nightmares about it for a while LOL 

That makes something twist unpleasantly in Teru’s stomach. Out of jealousy or confusion, he isn’t sure.  

teru!!!!!!!!!!!!
you did great though, i’m proud of all you :)
all that training’s really paid off 

hoshino
meaning youre not gonna go easy on us this week are you?

Teru stifles a snort.  

teru!!!!!!!!!!!! 
nope :) 

hoshino
goddamn it

It’s lighthearted, the same disingenuous complaints that fill training sessions with his fellow espers, and despite all their protests they’ve come a long way from where Teru found them. He’s sincerely proud of each of them, how fast they’ve grown in a short period of time. However stressful it is, training puts all of them in a better state of mind, himself included, and he’s seen their determination, their enthusiasm, their drive to improve. How could he let that slip by? 

He doesn’t want to slip into the habit of overthinking because he’s alone. Been there, done that, but. There’s a small part of him that knows how this works. Help others, raise them up, prove they can improve because it means he can improve. Bask in feeling good like he isn’t doomed or awful, let it sink, sink, sink, until he thinks about it too deeply again and it all crashes down. The thoughts spider web in the corners of his brain he refuses to look at, sitting silent and untouched until there’s an arachnid inches from his face in the night, hanging in the air like it’s a sword and he’s Damocles.  

…There’s a reason he hates weekends. It’s all too much and too little. Vast. Suffocating. At least, before Kageyama, he could pretend to have things to do, people to see. Stepping back into that sounds exhausting, the role of Teruki Hanazawa constricting around his throat and far bigger than he can handle anymore. How do you focus on an empty stage? Or a performance of yourself when there’s no longer a spotlight?  

Ugh, he shakes his head. Distractions. Distractions were what he was doing. 

teru!!!!!!!!!!!!
it won’t be that bad! 

kurosaki! :3
like wed believe u haha!!!
im still thinking about the time you had us practice barriers for three whole hours

teru!!!!!!!!!!!!
its important! they could save your life!
regardless, no, i was planning something else actually 

It’s a bit more tolerable, acting cheerier than he feels, if only to interact with his peers. Using old muscles for better reasons, or something. Can he call them his friends? Or acquaintances, he guesses, but he’s also their… mentor, ESP-tutor guy. That… ugh, no, thinking too much again. Whatever. They’re his peer-mentee-acquaintances. Figuring out exact terms can happen when it isn’t Sunday evening.

asahi ☆
ohhhh the drama 

kurosaki! :3
haha do tell hanazawa :3 

teru!!!!!!!!!!!!
its nothing, really 

Daichi
That’s what they all say 

hoshino
were keeping our eye on you hanazawa  

Teru smiles at that. It’s been a long time since he’s had… people, like this. Just. A group of people his age, who get it, who can bear to speak to him without someone throwing a punch. It’s nice, he decides, as the chat scrolls forward to see his fellow espers chat so easily amongst themselves. A little overwhelming, sure, but… good.  

— 

Returning to Black Vinegar: Taking the long route to class to avoid Edano. Being beaten over the head with the fact that Teru isn’t the shadow leader of Black Vinegar anymore. Avoiding eye contact with his ex-girlfriend. Eating lunch in the art room, almost pointedly instead of with his old friends in the cafeteria. Feeling their gaze on him as he walks past the tables, overhearing gossip in the hallways. You have no power here. Awkward talks by their teachers in each class. I know you may feel threatened, but if you need to talk to anyone, us staff are here to listen. Class to class. Playing dodgeball in the gym, noting the difference in his aim without his ESP. Writing down what he needs to improve on when he gets to the bathroom, instead of changing in the locker rooms. Tiredly judging students around him, their private school uniforms and catty, childish laughing. What he used to be. Remnants of it like specks of glass on felt. On the outside looking in. Are you alright, Hanazawa? You’re looking a little off; your grades have dropped lately. Did the break help? Keeping his eyes and aura off others’ work papers, honest and committed to integrity. Chanting a mantra: this is a new leaf. A new leaf, a new leaf. The bell ringing. Edano dropping his bag next to Teru’s on the bus, collapsing into the seat by him.  

“Edano,” Teru greets, mostly to be polite-- even if Teru’s been avoiding him and they both know it. He rarely takes the bus for that reason, but well… he didn’t get enough sleep last night and it’s warm enough to be too unpleasant to walk. Plus, he doesn’t have soccer practice today, so… he should rest up while he can. He’s nestled into one of the back seats, settled between the bus window and Edano on his right. His bag rests in his lap, hands holding it close.  

Edano stares at him, though, determination set into his face and crossed arms over his chest. He looks at Teru like he’s looking for something, something far bigger than him in the shadow of Teruki Hanazawa.   

“What the hell is up with you?” Edano asks abruptly, once he’s had enough of looking over Teru, “You’re avoiding me. I could buy that you were waiting to get people off your back after Salt Mid, but it’s been months, man. What the fuck did that Kageyama kid do to you?” 

Teru stiffens, his grip on his bag tightening, “I don’t know what you mean Edano.” 

“Don’t give me that shit, Hanazawa. He kicked your ass once and now you’re… this. You broke up with Akane and no one even knows why. She talks shit all the time, you know, but you act like you don’t even care! What the fuck is your deal?” This isn’t just a conversation Teru can teleport out of. He can’t squeeze by Edano in the crowd of people while walking through the halls until he stops trying. This conversation has been pushed off long enough, and he’s lucky he’s gotten by so far without being cornered after soccer practices or worse. He’s between Edano and the bus window now, the only escape being charm alone. Fuck. Okay, Hanazawa, here it goes, he thinks to himself. You wanted to be a good person, right? Prove it.  

“Listen, Edano. I’m not… I don’t want to be like that anymore,” Teru says, trying to remain firm, reminding himself internally not to engage. Defense 101, remain cool and detached. 

Before, he would’ve brushed Edano off with a wave of a hand, a simple ask questions and I’ll punch your face off enough to keep anyone from talking out of line. What does it mean if that’s not an option anymore?  

“That’s what I fucking mean,” Edano’s waving his hands around, gesturing wildly, “No one is a shadow leader one day and then an artsy goody-two-shoes the next.”  

“Why not? I’m done with all of it.” 

“How? This was our life!” He’s stage-whispering now, barely restraining himself from yelling over the hum of the bus engine and chatter of people talking. It makes Teru’s face twist up, the sick feeling building up and up.  

Our life.  

Oh. This has suddenly gotten a lot more complicated.  

“…You really cared about me, didn’t you?” Teru realizes, staring at Edano with wide eyes. Edano blinks, disarmed confusion and hurt echoed for a split second on his face before the anger returns. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?”  

“I hurt you by leaving. You wanted me to stay with you.” 

“I did not,” Edano spits, “I don’t give two shits about what you do, this isn’t about me—” 

“It is, though. I treated you awfully. I kicked you out and threatened you. Why would you want me around after all that?”  

This is that whole… fixing your mistakes thing, right? Amending burnt bridges? That might be the one thing he hasn’t done on his whole stop-being-a-shithead, Hanazawa, journey. He takes a deep breath. Always time for firsts. 

“Edano, I— Look. I’m sorry,” Teru says, and oh, god, that feels weird, “The way I treated you was… I wasn’t a very good person back then.”

Edano looks like he’s been slapped, eyes darting away from Teru and the arms crossing tighter across his chest. His body language changes, emulating aloof and unaffected. He does it poorly. 

“I. Um. Yeah, whatever, I don’t care.”

There’s a stone in his belly. Weighing him down and keeping him pinned to his shitty bus seat. All the background noise fades, leaving just him and Edano in the back, neither of them saying a word. 

“Yeah.” He should say more. Apologize properly. What could he even say? Sorry I was a shitty friend? Sorry I hurt you, over and over, and never let myself think about what it all meant? Sorry we stopped talking and I let it happen? 

Nothing feels good enough. He might as well be floundering because every coherent thought has disappeared from his mind and it’s deafening. 

He’s about to speak again before Edano says something, almost silent under the noise from the rest of the bus.  

“Uh… Thanks, though, Hanazawa.” 

Teru swallows down the feeling, “For sure.”  

Another awkward pause, Edano picking at the threads of his uniform pants and Teru biting the inside of his cheek as his eyes stay glued to the bag in his lap. Teru’s hands are threading the handle of his bag between his fingers, focusing on the texture on his skin as he loops and unloops the fabric around his hand. It’s easier to think of that, to fidget and bounce his leg anxiously, rather than looking Edano in the eyes.  

“You’re really not changing your mind, then?” Edano asks, softer. 

“No, I’m not,” Teru agrees, speaking barely above a whisper.  

“…Okay,” Edano says, tone carefully blank, and there’s a moment where the bus pulls over at the next stop and Edano stands up, pulling his bag over his shoulder. 

Teru looks up at him questioningly, but he only tilts his head to the bus doors, “This is my stop.” 

Teru nods and Edano moves stiffly over to the door, disappearing onto the street within a cluster of students.

Teru knows his address. Got it through some local spirits, paid them handsomely to keep an eye on everyone useful to him in the event he’d need… insurance, so to speak— not that many were unlucky enough to find out what that meant. Edano definitely wasn’t. 

But Teru knows. He still remembers the directions, and he can tell from a glance that Edano’s house won’t be for another few blocks away, because that… wasn’t his stop.  

Teru tips his head back and sighs.  

— 

The Awakening Lab members meet up every Tuesday. Tuesday, which is also Teru’s soccer meet, which is okay because they’re still allowed to use Mitsuura’s building and that means his group can play video games until Teru gets there. He might say Mitsuura had been kind in allowing them to stay, but considering the man’s infatuation with all things psychic, agreeing may have been the more merciful option-- even if the amount of lab coat-clad researchers with them has dwindled significantly due to their only psychics, you know, leaving the project and getting attacked by Claw.  

There’s a ping as the elevator doors slide open, the sounds of shouting and video game music hitting Teru’s ears as he steps into the lounge space. It’s a common room, really. Completed with a kitchenette filled with snacks and a kettle on the counter for hot chocolate, plus a few couches bracketing the coffee table and TV. There’s a dining table covered in notebooks, where their school bags lie against the chair legs– it’s their designated homework table, home to several makeshift tutoring sessions and hours spent distracting each other or complaining. A door near the kitchenette leads out to the training rooms, a large gym-like area with a few practice rooms to the side.

The entire building is soaked in soft aura hues but here its potent, where the residual psychic energy has built up and up until it’s settled into the foundation and bricks in the walls. It feels comfortable. Nostalgic.  

Kurosaki and Hoshino perk up at the sound of the elevator, Daichi offering a little wave while Kaito and Asahi are zeroed in on their game of Smash Bros, of which Teru barely needs to glance at the screen to see that Kaito is kicking Asahi’s ass effortlessly.  

“Hanazawa!” Kurosaki greets excitedly and Teru offers a soft smile in return. Somehow, her and everyone else’s genuine excitement to see him never fails to make everything in his ribs feel warm and mushy, hitting in that weird tender spot that simultaneously makes him want to lean in further and bolt out the door.  

“Hey,” Teru says, shoes thumping against the wooden floorboards as he approaches the group, “Hopefully I haven’t kept you all waiting for too long.” 

“You didn’t miss anything, don’t worry,” Kurosaki says kindly. She’s sitting on the same couch as Daichi on opposite ends, her tablet resting against her legs where they’re propped up onto the sofa. Daichi, the one with rounder features—it took a while to be able to remember that, admittedly—has his laptop on his legs where he’s momentarily paused his rapid typing to look up at the rest of the group.

“Just Asahi getting his ass kicked,” Hoshino adds on with a snort. He’s sitting criss-cross on the sofa next to Asahi and Kaito, his elbows on his knees and his head resting on his hands while he watches their game with a smug expression.  

“Hi Hanazawa,” Kaito says distractedly, biting his tongue as he clicks buttons furiously until Asahi’s health bar hits zero and both boys shout in victory and/or despair.  

“How?! That was the third time you beat me!” Asahi groans and slumps backward into his seat, splaying his arms across the couch dramatically. Teru leans over the back of the couch to grin down at Asahi as Kaito snickers triumphantly.  

“Hello to you too,” Teru says, arms crossed over the back of the couch and Asahi covers his face in his hands. 

“Hi,” he greets miserably. 

“You’ll get ‘em next time,” Teru says, patting Asahi’s arm comfortingly, then turning back to the group as a whole, “Now, who’s ready for some training?” 

“What are we working on?” Daichi asks, shutting his laptop and sliding it onto the couch by his side. 

“Well,” Teru starts, a grin growing infectious on his face, “You all have gotten pretty used to my aura by now, but I wonder if you can track it down. Today’s activity will be about putting that to the test.” 

-

20. Teru’s sneakers squeak against the training floor, oppressively loud in the empty room as he crosses the span of the room and wrenches the door to the stairwell open . 15. There are about five floors in total, excluding the emptied basement. Not enough time to cover all that area. 

Instead he leaps off the stairs to one of the landings, using the momentum to propel his telekinesis until he’s on the first floor, zipping past through the doorway and down the hall surrounding the laboratories. 10. Janitor’s closets, bathrooms, or offices are no-gos. He needs open space, anywhere he can slip out of. He’s meant to be prey, not a sitting duck. 

5. The Shiratori’s voices are loud in Teru’s brain as they project the headstart timer, all while Teru’s sneaking into one of the side labs, long abandoned and spacious. There are two entrances to the room, the one Teru got in from, and the one leading to the main lab in the center of the floor. Teru nestles himself under one of the desks, enough to go unseen from the windows or doors but not too far as to trap him in. 

0.

Teru can feel the auras overhead spring into action, the scattering directions mapping themselves in Teru’s vision as everyone spreads across the building. He keeps his own energy wrapped tight. Frantic energy threatens to crack the tiles beneath his feet like it would have when he was a kid, the blood rushing in his ears.

He steadies his breath, forcing his aura down to a faint buzz beneath his skin and turning his attention to the cool colors moving closer his way, pinks and blues and greens that he can identify without a second thought. Typical of Asahi and Hoshino to split away from the group, even if it does give them a stealth advantage, being so far apart and allowing their auras to fade in and out of view.

Clearly he’s not the only one with tricks. 

The point of this isn’t to win. He’s playing cat and mouse with the intention of ending up trapped, but even so the mix of anxious, forced love of the hunt is a nauseously familiar feeling that takes him more precious seconds to try and stuff down into his chest. 

Only then is he able to focus on his sharpened anxiety, the ringing alarms of Kurosaki giggling in the halls outside as she and the Shiratori brothers conspire amongst themselves, too quiet for Teru to hear.

He could try and diminish his aura further but there’s no point, they’ve got a clairvoyant and Teru’s only got the door out into the main lab. 

There are desks lining the walls next to the door, and Teru sneaks across the floor to hide from sight of the windows, close enough to crack the door open and slip inside unnoticed.

The main lab is… big. Okay, lame description, but it really is. In the center is a cylindrical machine, covered in TV screens and keyboards and wires that reach up so high that Teru has to crane his head to see where the machinery connects to the ceiling. Two floors must have been demolished and remade for this room, the mechanical heart and center of the Awakening Lab, now entirely empty and abandoned. Teru’s eyes have to adjust to the darkness, the eerie, still air of the room punctuated by the only illumination coming from the lights from labs surrounding the room. 

Eugh. Spooky. 

He’s interrupted from his thoughts when he hears the sidelab door creak open, the distinct voices of Kurosaki and Daichi startling Teru into moving instinctively, beginning to creep along the wall out of sight of the others while still getting the fuck away. His hand runs along the wall behind him as he stealths across the length of the wall, until it gives way to an open doorway and Teru gets inside without a second thought.

He’s breathing heavy. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t like losing. 

His fists clench and he turns to survey his surroundings: another lab, this time set up differently, in booths and sectioned walls that hide far too much for Teru’s liking. Too many places for someone to sneak up on you. 

Teru slinks back out into the hallway, just in time to feel Kurosaki and the Shiratori brother’s auras close in on the room he left, much too close for comfort. 

He moves quickly and silently, heart pumping fast enough to burst out of his chest, possibly more than when he was actually fighting terrorists. There’s another stairway down the hall, away from the one Hoshino and Asahi are… in for some reason? But with how closely he’s being tailed he may not have a chance to get there before he’s caught. 

Teru opens the entrance to a janitor’s closet, materializing air whips to land in the room and build up enough keylime energy to throw the others off his trail. It’s an old trick, and even if Kurosaki isn’t convinced it might be enough to get Daichi or Kaito to disagree with her anyway, and any chance at buying more time is a good one. 

From there, it’s easy enough to slip from side lab-to-side lab, weaving between the rooms until he’s up the stairs onto the second floor. This floor is a ring around the top half of the mainlab, with conference rooms and offices, libraries and other… science-y rooms that Teru honestly doesn’t know the purposes of.

With some distance between himself and the rest of the espers, Teru can sidle into one of the libraries, dipping semi-leisurely between bookshelves until he can lean back against one and take a moment. He just has to avoid being caught. And, well, he’s done that for his whole life, hasn’t he? Usually there would be a lot more fighting by now, though.

“Come on out, Hanazawa!” Comes Asahi's voice from near the main entrance to the library and Teru freezes.

“Dude, I’m telling you, he’s not in here,” Hoshino says, and one of them huffs.

“And I’m telling you he is,” Asahi insists and Teru peeks between the gaps of books on the shelf in order to catch sight of either of them. Nothing. He scowls, slinking closer to the door and sees Asahi and Hoshino looking leisurely through the library, further in while Teru tries to sidestep. 

“Fine. But when Kaito gets to him before we do, don’t come crying back to me,” Hoshino says and Teru has to stifle a laugh when Asahi sputters indignantly.

“Oh, you are such an asshole. I’d like to see you beat him at anything other than running, Hoshino .” Jesus, no wonder they’ve been so behind, they’re just bickering. Teru is steps away and neither of them have noticed.

He still needs to move. The others will know where he is by now, and it’s only a matter of time before he’s caught. His steps are light against the carpet-floor, walking brisk, and he’s so close to the door he can feel it, if he can just make it out of the library he’ll be home free–

“I bet I cou– holy shit look,” Hoshino says in a gasp and Asahi turns and Teru can feel eyes on his back. 

Fuuuck. 

Asahi might say something, but Teru’s more focused on getting the fuck out of there, throwing open the door and sprinting into the hall. Fuck subtlety, he can be subtle when he’s further away. 

He gets into the first room he sees, nearly stumbling and running straight into a railing when he realizes that he’s on a platform by the catwalk above the main lab. 

…Well. It’s not the worst place he could be if he doesn’t want anyone to catch him. 

He moves over the thin strip of the catwalk, across the span of the room and around the machine in the center until he spots a support beam connected to a whole grid of metal. 

He hops over the railing, swinging himself over and onto the metal beams which clang under him, letting his aura catch himself instinctively in order to stay steady. The door slams open behind him and Teru doesn’t even look back, laser-focused on the narrow metal and keeping his center of gravity balanced. 

“What the…” Asahi breathes behind him, and he can feel their auras on the catwalk, coming as close to Teru as they can without jumping onto the support beams alongside him.

Teru turns on his heels to face the two, a cat-like grin on his face. 

“Nice try, you two,” says Teru and he jumps off the beam, letting his telekinesis float him down gently, until something pokes him in the side and he jumps, barrier flinging up to the ready as he collides onto the ground, skidding as he lands on his feet.

“Nice try to you, actually,” Kurosaki giggles.

She’s standing on a desk, Daichi and Kaito hiding beneath it and Teru stares, wide-eyed.

“You guys… caught me,” He says, and Kurosaki laughs again, hopping down. The Shiratori brothers climb out, a smile on their faces.

“We were all working together. We figured we could distract you if you thought you had two separate teams trying to catch you,” Daichi answers and Teru’s barrier drops.

“I thought Asahi wanted to beat Kaito, though?” Teru asks, letting himself straighten and relax. 

“That’s just Asahi,” Kaito snorts. “Daichi and I were communicating with them telepathically. We weren’t actually competing.”

“Oh.” Teru exhales, an inkling of pride spreading in his chest, a balm over the panic that had overtaken him, “Thats… really smart. Congrats, guys.”

“So do you owe us ice cream, or what?” Hoshino yells from the catwalk, and Teru laughs. 

“I’ll think about it!” 

— 

The door to Spirits and Such chimes as Teru pushes it open to step in tentatively. It’s not weird, he tells himself, he’s just… repaying a favor. 

“Welcome to Spirits and Such!” Reigen calls from his desk at the sound of the door, “How can I help y–”

Reigen straightens up as Teru steps forward into the office, hands stuffed into his pockets, imitating casual-cool in a way he doesn’t really feel. 

He notices another esper in the office immediately. From outside he could fool himself into believing it was just Kageyama’s aura, but he’s sitting at the chair in the corner of the room and in his desk is that Claw man. Teru tenses almost invisibly at the sight of him, trying to remain calm like he’ll only notice Teru if he moves. 

Serizawa, was it? Long gone are the unkempt locks of hair and frenzied look in his eye, now replaced with a dull navy suit and short curls. His eyebags have stayed the same, that gaunt, near ghastly contrast to his rounded face unchanging. Teru almost forgot Reigen was going to hire him, but now Teru doesn’t think he’ll be able to forget. 

“Hey,” Teru says, instead of any of that, and he sees Kageyama look up curiously.

There’s a small tug of his lips when he sees Teru, a tiny smile that’s the equivalent of a beaming grin in Kageyama terms. He’s sitting with his legs crossed on the couch and his manga lying in his lap where he had been reading it previously, and he looks… good. Better than he had two weeks ago, well-rested to the point where even his aura seems rejuvenated, friendly and open. A little wave of relief spreads through Teru to see him, some excitement to be here with him instead of having to deal with this new Claw employee by himself. 

“Hanazawa? I didn’t know you’d be swinging by today,” Reigen says, surprised. He’s got a pen in his hands, clicking it repeatedly while his leg visibly bounces under the desk. 

“I was bored is all. I don’t have anything to do today so I figured I might drop by to see if you need help with any clients,” Teru lies. He’d waited a week to visit, it’s dumb luck he didn’t realize Serizawa would be starting so early. “I’m not sure I’m needed though, I think you might be overstaffed.”

“Nonsense,” Reigen leans back in his chair, “Serizawa here is just learning the ropes. We’re supposed to have an appointment in another twenty minutes, so if you and Mob can help him get accustomed to things that would be a real help to me.”

God damn it.

Teru nods numbly, mouth dry, “What are we going to do?”

“The client wants us to look at a haunted house across the city. Apparently living there was so awful all the residents moved out, and now it’s abandoned,” Reigen responds with a scoff of laughter as he taps his pen against the desk.

“What happened to them?” Kageyama asks while Teru goes to sit next to him. Sure, he likes being near Kageyama, but it’s mostly practical because the only other available seat faces the wall and considering the blaring alarm in Teru’s head, he’s not sure he’ll allow himself to look away for even a second. Instead, he shuffles back in his seat, getting comfortable as he surveys the rest of the room without hassle, including Serizawa.

Who, for the most part, is annoyingly passive. Fidgety, but passive. He’s paying rapt attention to the conversation, as if the words held the secrets to the universe all while looking remarkably uncomfortable. His knees are up to his chest in the small chair, eyes flickering around the room and back to the laptop on his cheap-looking desk. Teru only barely resists the urge to go up to Serizawa and demand what he’s looking for himself, but… his aura. It’s not necessarily hostile, but it curls in on itself, skittish enough to remind Teru of a deer or mouse. An incredibly dangerous, ex-terrorist, child-nabbing mouse. 

Teru must be glaring, or looking too hard, or letting his aura spike up and get rough around the edges, because he almost startles when Reigen begins to speak again.

“There are only reports from friends or people who knew the inhabitants. Apparently the house made ‘em see things, but most of them disappeared before anyone could investigate them or the house properly,” Reigen says grimly, and Teru takes a sharp breath. First technical on-site exorcism and they’re already dealing with horror-movie shit. Fantastic.

“See things,” Kageyama repeats with an indecipherable expression on his face. Teru thinks it might be distress. “Like Muto.”

“The Seventh Division guy?” Reigen says, eyebrows jumping. Teru’s eyes flit over to the negligible stiffening of Serizawa’s posture. “Yeah, I guess so. It wasn’t too much trouble defeating him, was it?” 

“No,” Kageyama says, “I didn’t like it though.”

Reigen sighs, “I know. I don’t think it’ll be that bad this time, it might be a hoax, anyway.” Kageyama nods, and Teru knows logically he should comfort him. 

“I’ve got your back, Kageyama. If us rivals team up, there’s no way a spirit could defeat us,” Teru says, biting back the urge to cut the aura-enhanced tension in the room with a knife. Or sword-tie. 

Kageyama smiles minutely, and that’s reward enough, Teru supposes.

When silence falls upon the room, Kageyama returns to reading and Teru pulls out his school notebook, tapping his mechanical pencil against the pages as he looks over the algebra questions assigned as homework. It beats using the last of his phone battery. 

Kageyama pauses, and Teru looks up to see the other watching him– or more accurately, his hand writing on the paper. 

“...Is something wrong?” Teru asks and Kageyama looks up.

“How do you do that?” 

Teru looks between them, following Kageyama’s gaze down to the homework. “The… math?” 

Kageyama nods, once. He gestures rather than speaking, Teru notices, like he’s trying to avoid it. Teru’s always been the opposite– the center of attention (good or bad), the star, the brightest in the room. He’s spent defeat-fever dreams seething over the differences, wishing Kageyama would just talk , taunt Teru back, say anything to make him feel less like a piece of shit for fighting a kid who’s a much better person than himself. Now, though, he doesn’t think the differences are that bad. And… if Kageyama doesn’t want to speak much, no one should force him to, Teru thinks.

“What part do you struggle with?” Teru shuffles closer to Kageyama, moving the book to balance between their knees so he can read it easier. 

“Um, all of it I think.” Kageyama bites the inside of his cheek, eyes scanning over the problems on the page. “I don’t– I don’t get how you did this.” 

He points at a problem from the previous page, one of the easiest from their review unit. He moves so tentatively, deliberate like if he pokes the paper with too much force it’ll solidify and shatter.

“The whole question or a specific part?” Teru says patiently, trying not to overwhelm Kageyama. On one hand, he shouldn’t hope that his sort of best friend is bad at math, but on the other… if he were, well, wouldn’t that just mean they’d have an excuse to spend time together?

“The whole thing,” Kageyama says quietly. Okay, Teru has experience with this, he can deal just fine. He digs out another pencil and hands it to Kageyama, trying not to dwell on the small space between their hands, or the occasional press of their knees against each other’s. 

“So, essentially, when you have a problem like this, both sides are equal to the same thing. You just need to figure out what the variable is…”

–

Reigen’s rented car slows to a stop on the faded-grey driveway. The house up ahead is old, all the lights shut off and the lawn grown unruly with vines climbing up the side of the building. It looks… ordinary. Less ‘boarded-windows-and-doors’ like Teru might’ve expected, more muted like the rest of the neighborhood. Murkier and duller in color scheme.

“Well,” Reigen sighs, killing the engine with a turn of his key, “We’re here.”

Teru clicks his seatbelt off impatiently, white and yellow sneakers tapping against the mat on the floor. Serizawa is sitting diagonally ahead of Teru and he watches the man study the building before he speaks, “I think we, um, made the right choice coming here. There seems to be a lot of spiritual energy…” 

“Oh.” Kageyama picks up his head from the window, where he’d been watching the clouds. “You’re right. Something big is here.”

“Let’s check it out, then,” Teru says, not wanting to seem impatient and failing. 

They get out of the car and Reigen leads their group down the concrete walkway up to the front porch, crossing dead potted plants on their way to the main door. Teru lags behind, watching from afar as Reigen tests the doorknob. 

The house has… some kind of energy, that’s for sure. It’s seaweed, deep and dark and pulpy in the way that makes it feel weird to be getting closer instead of staying as far away as possible, like nails on a chalkboard. All-encompassing and twisting Teru’s intestines into knots. 

The door pushes open on the first try, apparently unlocked, and Reigen is still for a second until he sighs and turns to face them, door handle still in hand.

“Okay, here’s the plan. We have a bit of ground to cover, so we might as well split up,” Oh god, he can’t be serious. Reigen’s eyes flicker between him and Serizawa for a split-second, eyes narrowing briefly and then he continues, “First we check the main floor. Serizawa and I will take the basement, and Mob and Teru can check out the second floor. Sound good?”

“I thought we were going to teach Serizawa the ropes,” Kageyama says with an inquisitive tilt of his head, and Reigen barely misses a beat. 

“I’m the greatest psychic the world has seen, Mob, you think I can’t train a new employee?” Reigen scoffs.

“That’s not what I meant,” Kageyama fiddles with his sleeves, “I didn’t mean it like that, sorry Shishou.”

Reigen waves a hand dismissively and pushes the door open, stepping in with a wide flourish to gesture everyone else to follow. “No need to worry, Mob, let’s just exorcize this spirit.”

The floorboards creak under their weight as everyone piles into the foyer. It’s empty, coated in dirt and built up grime, enough that the air is stale and heavy. There’s a staircase leading up to the second floor directly ahead, and two hallways on either side: one leading to the kitchen and the other to what looks like a living room, but they look fuzzy around the edges, like the kitchen counters will begin bending and warping if he looks too long. He blinks and looks away. Maybe he needs to get his eyes checked. 

“Not as haunted as I expected,” Reigen notes, walking out to the living room and surveying the place. Serizawa follows him like a lost puppy. 

“Don’t jinx it. It’s probably hiding,” Teru responds, moving with Kageyama to the kitchen and opening a few drawers. They’re empty, save for lint and the occasional chip clip or old coupon. Kageyama, meanwhile, does a quick once-over of the kitchen, narrowing his eyes at nothing.

“It’s weird,” he says quietly, and Teru looks to him, away from the empty package of crackers he’d been inspecting in one of the cupboards.

“What’s weird?”

“The presence is in two places. This floor is okay, but… it’s not like there’s two spirits. It’s the same one, but it’s upstairs and in the basement.”

Teru’s eyebrows raise, but when he focuses on the auras in the area, sure enough there’s only one spirit. 

Before Teru can ask him to elaborate, Kageyama wanders into the formal dining area, seemingly content with leaving it at that and looking around. Well, whatever, he was investigating anyway.

When Teru turns around, though, the cupboard he was looking through is empty. 

…Okay. What.

Teru checks the floor and countertop, scanning through other cupboards but the package is just… gone. Nowhere to be seen. He takes a deep breath, this is fine, he’s got Kageyama right in the next room, it’s just the house messing with him, but then Teru’s ear catches the near inaudible sound of Kageyama gasping and Teru’s telekinesis-teleporting in within seconds.

“Are you okay?” His heart is hammering, barrier up, what if the spirit got Kageyama? What if he’s been attacked, or worse–

“Look,” Kageyama says, alive and well and his voice is soft and awestruck. He’s crouched next to an open built-in cabinet, peering inside as Teru’s body drains of tension, the shield dropping swiftly as he moves closer and kneels next to him, peeling the other side of the cabinet door open. Something gray-white and fluffy is backed up in the empty cabinet corner, the rise and fall of its breath a little fast but evidently okay.

“Oh,” Teru exhales, leaning forward to see the cat better. It backs up into the corner, letting out the tiniest meow and, oh, god, that might be the cutest and saddest thing he’s ever heard.

“She must be scared,” Kageyama says.

Teru makes a half-hearted noise of agreement, distracted and contemplating for a moment before he decides to reach a hand out, leaving it a fair distance away from the cat but letting it approach if it wants. 

“Hey,” He says soothingly, “It’s okay, we’re not going to hurt you.” 

She (Teru’s decided she’s a she) moves cautiously forward, and Teru tries to stay completely utterly still, not wanting to scare her as she leans forward to sniff curiously at Teru’s fingers. As if hooked on something, she moves closer, rubbing her head against Teru’s open hand and he might actually melt, like, sundaes in summer melt. Butter-on-the-pan melt. This could be the greatest day of his life, and he’s barely even a cat person, holy shit. 

Teru cautiously pets her head, watching in amazement as she lets him do so before she gets up and begins stretching, showing off the patterns in her coat, large spots of gray along her back and a small patch on her nose, and then moves against Teru’s arm with the clear intention of being pet more. He laughs softly, more than content to comply. She doesn’t seem like a lost cat given the lack of a collar, but she’s also young. Small and scrappy. Not a baby but not an adult either, fending for herself, and Teru feels a pang of sympathy. It’s not like she's struggling, clearly she’s found shelter and her coat doesn’t look too dirty, nor is she injured, but… she might be hungry, and he can’t just leave her here . Not in a house with a spirit rattling around and cursing everyone who comes by, the poor thing must be terrified.

Soft rustling and the click of something pulls him out of the moment, his thumbs stilling on the cat’s cheek where he was smoothing down the fur, and Teru turns to see Kageyama looking at his phone fondly. Warmth floods Teru’s cheeks, breath catching in his chest.

“Did you take a picture?” He asks and Kageyama looks up, wide eyed.

“Is… that okay? I can delete it,” he offers, but Teru denies before Kageyama can even finish talking.

“No, no, it’s fine, I was just wondering,” Teru says quickly, a bit of giddiness threatening to show in his voice. Kageyama opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by Reigen’s voice and footsteps in their direction.

“Hey, what’s the hold up in here? Serizawa and I were gonna go into the basement but we didn’t know where you two were. Seriously, you guys can’t just run off during a job–” Reigen starts as he and Serizawa waltz into the dining room and the stray rushes back into the cabinet, pressing herself into the corner. Teru shushes him. 

“What the hell? Don’t shush me, I was talking,” Reigen complains but Kageyama disapprovingly shakes his head at Reigen, gesturing to the open cabinet, and he pauses enough to approach and crouch down with them. Serizawa follows, acting like Reigen’s big, faux-timid shadow, and it almost puts Teru out of his good mood. 

“Oh my god,” Reigen says as soon as he sees the cat.

“A… stray?” Serizawa says at the same time, and Teru wants to roll his eyes. Captain obvious over here. 

“Whatever spirit that lives here must not mind animals,” Kageyama observes, reaching out to the cat and petting soothingly at her fur. She’s quite docile for a stray, Teru thinks. She must not be around people much.

“There are certainly enough mice around here to support that,” he scoffs. 

“Animals can sense spirits, there’s not really a point in, um, haunting them,” Serizawa points out quietly. 

“So this ones pretty fearless, huh? Have you two named ‘em yet?” Reigen asks.

“We’re not naming her,” Kageyama protests weakly, but Reigen gives him a long look and he crumbles.

“...I’ve been calling her Nyuunyuu in my head.”

“Like, milk?” Reigen asks with a laugh and Kageyama nods shyly. “Well, we better get little Nyuunyuu’s home spirit-free, huh?”

“We should,” Teru agrees and gets up.  “We could bring her food sometime.”

Reigen leans back, stretching his arms behind his head with an old-man groan, backing away from the cabinet, “Sure. Maybe after this we can pick up some cat food for her and some yakiniku for ourselves, huh?” 

“You don’t have to do that,” Serizawa says, acting like a schoolgirl who’s been offered to walk home with her crush. Reigen can do better in Teru’s opinion. 

Nyuunyuu meows, a tiny sound demanding attention as the four of them get up and Kageyama leans over to pet her.

“We’ll be back soon,” Kageyama promises to Nyuunyuu and she rubs her head against his leg  while Reigen claps his hand on Kageyama’s shoulder.

“She’ll be alright. Let’s just get this job over with, alright?” 

Kageyama nods and the adults head to the living room to the basement door, leaving him and Teru to do their part. The stairs seem to sway under their feet as they make their way up to the second floor, silence settling over them once again like a blanket. 

It’s an effort to climb up without Teru’s sneakers planting themselves firmly on a solid step only to have it ripped out beneath him like fabric, making him trip over nothing and clinging to the railing like a lifeline. Were the darkness at the top of the landing anything other than an empty tunnel, a siren call, maybe he could stay upright, but it’s not, and the doors and windows are all shut as they step blindly up a stairwell that gets taller every time Teru blinks, the wood sand-dipping under his weight. 

They get there though. And when Teru and Kageyama stand at the top of the flight of steps, it hits them. 

Square in the gut, dark green writhing beneath the first door, worms in dirt scavenging. The aura reaches out to them in glowing, tentacle-like movements on the floor, a razor’s edge between tangible and psychic that drives into Teru’s skull with a killer migraine. It’s pulsing, malicious intent leaking between floorboards like oil on water, and the sight makes something in Teru’s stomach squirm.

It’s here. He can feel it. 

Something heavy thuds against the floor and Teru fully jumps, Kageyama twitching slightly before he advances on the source of the sound, barrier at the ready. Kageyama moves slowly, closer to the linen closet in the hallway, Teru trailing behind him before he opens the door.

“Just a bedsheet,” Kageyama says to Teru, stepping to the side to show the folded, yellowed cloth bundle on the floor. 

“Oh,” Teru swallows down his heart in his throat, “That’s nice. Better than the evil spirit who wants to kill us.”

Kageyama makes a noise, somewhere between a huff of amusement and a sound of concern, and then he moves wordlessly to the next door, looking to Teru for confirmation.

Teru clears his throat, readying his barriers at his fists and nods, watching Kageyama’s fingers wrap around the handle, twisting barely enough for a click before the door is flinging open, whipping against the doorstop, hard enough to crack wood.

A hot rush of air hits their faces, the door swinging with the movements of stale air in and out, breathing. It’s fuzzy here, so, so fuzzy, where Teru’s eyes can barely process what he’s seeing beyond boiling and hungry and alive alive alive. His barrier goes up instinctively, around himself and Kageyama and he blinks the hot air from his dry eyes until his gaze can settle on the gaping maw of the door and into the room inside.

It’s a spirit, obviously, but it’s nothing like Teru’s ever seen. Like mold or termites, maybe, hooked into the center of the room and eating at the rest with those tendrils and a black tar-like substance covering every inch of the floor. This room actually has furniture though, barely visible under the fleshy mass of undead, but there’s a bed in the corner and a destroyed dresser as if it’s been left in time since the last inhabitants left.

They step into the room, any stealth advantage completely wrecked as they advance, blood rushing through Teru’s ears. Kageyama steps over a tendril and raises a hand towards the spirit, but before he can act, one of the tendrils smack him down, tossing him onto the floor outside the door and Teru yells out.

“Kageyama!” He turns around, reaching out, but the door slams shut, vines wrapping themselves across the entrance before Teru can even try to wrench it open. His heartbeat is rabbit-fast, ribs suddenly feeling all too tight as he summons flames along his arms, crouching to press the embers onto the tendrils and force the spirit alight, the added heat almost unbearable in the sauna of a room, but it only lazily brings the tendril up before thudding it against the ground, fire petering out almost mockingly. Teru grits his teeth, ripping his tie off and sharpening it, jumping through the air to stab through the spirit before the form shifts and– Kageyama? 

He’s teleported away instinctively, tie still clutched in his clammy palms as his eyes rove over the spirits form, panicked, only to see just that. He could have sworn he saw Kageyama instead of the spirit for a second, but now he’s gone and definitely still outside and Teru wants to scream .

Maybe he can try exorcizing it? Kageyama can do it, right? He lifts a hand, focusing on trying to shove the spirit, but all that happens is a pitiful that evaporates a single tendril before the spirit wraps another around Teru’s leg and tosses him up into the air, spiking him down until he’s tumbling on the floor hard. Teru hacks out a cough, pushing himself up to his feet with the adrenaline, and his tie is lying on the floor elsewhere. Okay. Okay, fine, he can do this, he’s fought without weapons a million times. 

Air whips are useless here. More fire. Sounds against the door (he ignores it). The flames are heavy in his hand and he whips it at the entity, studying to see its effect, only to see it’s form shift yet again, switching to people, his friends , Edano, everyone at the Awakening Lab, Reigen, Ritsu, Kageyama, all being hit by the pyrokinetic blast he threw, and–

The door bursts open. 

Teru’s eyes flutter as chunks of wood collide with the spirit and walls, chips smacking his back before he’s yanked out of the room, the weight of Kageyama’s aura cool against the oppressive heat in the room as he’s placed carefully against the wall outside the door. Reigen is crouched by him, looking over his mildly scratched face for injuries. Kageyama’s aura dissipates and Teru slumps over like a puppet with cut strings against the wall as Reigen starts speaking erratically.

“Hey, hey, Hanazawa, stick with me here, kid. I’ve gotta make sure you don’t have heatstroke. How do you feel? Do you know where you are? What happened?” He asks in a rush and Teru swats at Reigen’s arm, looking up at him with an annoyed glare.

“‘M fine,” Teru croaks. “It’s whatever. Spirit kicked Kageyama out, I could’ve dealt with it.”

Reigen grimaces but doesn’t comment, thankfully, because Teru doesn’t think he could deal with his ego being bruised on top of his whole body.

“Okay. You’re aware at least, that’s good. Mob and Serizawa shouldn’t be in there for too long, you guys were up here for more than fifteen minutes before Mob grabbed us,” Reigen explains and Teru’s eyes narrow.

“How? It should’ve been five at most.”

“You tell me, Serizawa and I were done within minutes. He’s a natural with exorcisms, I’ll tell you that,” Reigen says with a grin and that might sting more than the whole ‘being-spiked-onto-the-ground-like-a-volleyball’ thing. He could’ve figured it out, easy, he just needed some more time. A minute, tops. 

“I think the spirit messes with perception,” Teru realizes quietly, staring down at his uniform pants.

Reigen sits down properly, leaning back against the wall, “Yeah, I think you’re right. I kept seeing cockroaches in the corner of my sight but when I turned around they were gone.”

Teru looks at Reigen, sapped of energy but not willing to show it. “...I think those were just cockroaches.” 

Reigen’s posture stiffens.

“For my own sake I’m going to believe that’s not true.”

Teru laughs, a weak sound against the sound of ESP slashing and cutting in the background. He pulls his school blazer off and rolls his sleeves up, wincing at the feel of fabric against sweat-sticky skin. He’d kill for a cool bath right about now. 

There’s a blast of sound, encompassing, like the auditory version of everything going white before Teru can feel the grime of the spirit wash away, green glow dissipating into natural light. Remnants of indigo-auras remain as the battle ends, a stain on the foundations of the building where Serizawa and Kageyama have touched it. The two step out of the room, nearly untouched. 

“It’s gone,” Kageyama declares with an air of finality. His hair is sticking up all over and his school uniform is crumpled, a look in his eye that Teru doesn’t know how to interpret. He doesn’t look okay.

“That one was, um… a lot harder to defeat than the one in the basement,” Serizawa notes. He also doesn’t look okay, but Teru cares less about him so whatever.

“Let’s just get out of here,” he grumbles and gets up.

—

Leaving isn’t as simple as getting up and going, unfortunately. Reigen insists they should wait for the client to arrive, mostly to ensure they can see the results for themself. It’s a long wait until Reigen can actually get service, though, and Kageyama and Teru step out for fresh air while the client is on their way, stopping to grab their bags from the car and continue their math lesson inside. They don’t, but Kageyama ends up giving Nyuunyuu the rest of his lunch that he didn’t finish (after ensuring Teru that bananas and plain boiled rice are, in fact, cat-safe). 

She’s a lot more enthusiastic about having visitors after that. The rest of their time is spent sitting next to Nyuunyuu and letting her sniff at each of them before Teru makes a telekinetic-fan to cool himself and she freaks out, in a surprisingly positive way. Then it’s a lot of meowing and being harassed into doing psychic tricks for a cat, who watches entranced as Teru tiredly lifts his school supplies in slow orbits above their heads, endeared to see someone content even when he isn’t. 

By the time they pile into the car, after promising to visit Nyuunyuu soon, it’s approaching evening. Radio buzz fills the air, substituting speech. Reigen is giving some capital-L Looks from the front-view mirror, eyes darting between his three passengers but not daring to say a word, in that silently-judging-and-calculating way that puts Teru on edge. He pretends not to notice. 

Kageyama is staring out the window again, his reflection on the glass staring back and Teru wants to know what he saw in that room. What the spirit made him see. Was it the same as what it did to Teru, a single trick used over and over again to maximum efficiency, or was it personal? Hurting his loved ones doesn’t feel like his biggest fear, but if the knot in Kageyama’s forehead is anything to go by, it might be his. 

Teru doesn’t know what to do with that.

He doesn’t end up doing anything. Just stares at the clouds and the orange-tinged sky as the sun begins to set and Reigen makes awkward small talk with Serizawa in the background, body feeling heavy against the leather seats. 

When they arrive at Spirits and Such, Reigen tries to lighten the mood.

“How are we feeling about ramen? We could do that yakiniku, too,” He suggests, and Teru offers a polite smile. Knowing Kageyama (and the admittedly little amount he knows about Serizawa), they’d all end up having an awkward dinner before parting ways, and Teru would avoid speaking to anyone at Spirits and Such until he recovers from the embarrassment, which is… unideal. Better cut in now.

“I might go home, actually. I have homework,” Teru says. It isn’t due until the end of the week, but Reigen doesn’t need to know that. “Thanks for the offer, though.”

“Oh. Are you sure? Will you be okay at home?” Reigen asks, and Teru’s smile twitches, barely.

“I’ll be fine, thanks. I’ve dealt with worse injuries,” He says, trying not to grit the words out, and Reigen’s eyebrows raise.

“O…kay. Well, get home safe, Hanazawa. You have my number if you need anything,” Reigen says and Teru nods.

“Bye. I’ll see you about that math stuff, Kageyama,” Teru says and begins to head out as the others say their goodbyes.

“...Yakiniku sounds nice,” Serizawa says in the background. Teru rolls his eyes when he closes the door behind him. 

—

That night is rough. 

Understatement; that night is more than rough. 

Sleeping is hard– it always is, but gory images are imposed in his head, burnt onto his eyelids when he blinks or closes his eyes. The smell of rot. Shadows in the open doorway looking too close to human figures for comfort. Empty apartment, always empty. 

Suffice to say, he sleeps in fits and starts, waking up every few hours to his mind racking itself until it finds its threshold of paranoia. Dreams blend in hazy motions, creaking stairs, empty hallways, fire. Thinking he’s awake, only to fade and blend into the spirit in the bedroom and see himself flying across the room, tie clutched in both hands like a prayer, only this time hitting his mark. Teru’s brain does its best to approximate the feeling of being a spirit and being exorcized and exorcizing something. It wakes him up for the third (or maybe fourth?) time that night, leaving him staring at his ceiling and wrapped in blankets. Teru thinks that his brain did a pretty poor job.

Somehow it’s more exhausting than not sleeping at all. 

The next day he doesn’t get anything done. He tries, but his eyelids are heavy and his body is a lead weight on his mattress when the alarm rings and rings and rings. His hand slaps over the snooze button and he turns over in bed, covers pulled over his head, before he goes back to sleep. 

When he wakes up in the afternoon, his lunch period at school is already over. No use going now, he tells himself, and curls up on his couch to eat cereal for breakfast and dinner and watch Ghibli movies until his brain feels numb. Numb, but quiet.

He checks his phone a few hours after that, unwilling to disappoint himself with the lack of notifications, past people trying to follow his newly private Mobstagram account, but bored enough to try. To his surprise, there is something.

kageyama!! :)
so, about the math help…
does friday after school sound okay?

…It makes things a little more bearable.