Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Seasoning City was once a bustling and picturesque place. The streets were often crowded with light conversations from folks on their way to work or just out shopping and enjoying the day. There were the sounds of giggles and laughs from kids on their way to school. Trucks and honking horns rushed through busy intersections. Tall buildings for businesses, as well as many colorful shops and restaurants, lined the streets. The city was vibrant and alive. 

But that felt like a lifetime ago. The once loud and busy streets were now hauntingly silent. The vehicles that once honked and rumbled through them now sat still and abandoned, like a steel graveyard, slowly rusting and deteriorating, with signs of people trying to leave in a hurry. Cracks in the roads and sidewalks sprouted new life as nature began taking over the city, taking back the land it once ruled years ago. Grasses and small plants grew from the cracks, while bushes and vines scaled the walls of the once-populated buildings. However, they were losing their once vivid green, becoming darker and discolored as the weather got colder. Winter was approaching. 

The winds played an eerie song through the ruined city as powerful gusts rushed through the streets and passed through empty buildings. Windows had been broken out a long time ago, and the stone was cracked and crumbling. Some structures were coated in black from fires that tore through them. The first several days of the downfall smelled of death: thick, choking smoke mixed with burning plastic and bone. 

This once lively city was now a wasteland, and a lone figure was silently strolling the empty streets. A man named Reigen Arataka. He wore somewhat baggy jeans and tattered hiking shoes. He had a thick grey sweatshirt, a black utility jacket, and a forest green rucksack backpack. For a survivor, he looked mostly put together, aside from tired eyes and slightly disheveled hair 

His weapons of choice were a machete, which he snagged early on from a weapons shop, and a handgun. The former hung off his backpack, and the latter shoved in his back pocket. 

He didn’t like having to use them. He wasn’t exactly a weapons guy. He’d never even used weapons before in his life before all this, but that all changed when the monsters came. No one really knows where they came from. Reigen vaguely remembers rumors flying around before all forms of communication were abruptly shut off. They ranged from the monsters being aliens to failed experiments that escaped from some government lab, and there was even a rumor that they crawled out of hell itself. Some vast, dark, and nightmarish underworld that humans could not comprehend. 

It all started with stories of teenagers driving late at night when suddenly some creature would dart in front of their car and disappear into the dark or old women claiming they saw strange figures in their backyards. Most people chalked it up to deer or other animals, claiming it all to be bogus. 

Then, the photos started to surface not even a day later, blurry photos of indistinct blobs caught on shitty phone cameras. Reigen couldn’t say much, though, since he also had a shitty phone back then. But he remembered yelling at his TV late into the night as news channels showed off the second-rate photos. Reigen would throw his arms out dramatically, saying, “That could be anything!” Blurry photos were not proof of monsters. 

Not long after that, Reigen quickly changed his tune. Within a few days, chaos had taken over. As it turned out, the so-called monsters were real. They were also real scary and real dangerous. It didn’t take long for the city to crumble completely. Evacuations were put in order, but they failed to alleviate the situation. This whole ordeal spread quickly and hit hard, with mass panic increasing among the citizens. 

It was shortly discovered that these mysterious monsters had a taste for human flesh. Reigen will never forget the news reports before all channels were suddenly shut down and went offline. What he heard and saw will always stick with him: amateur videos of the most horrific scenes, recordings of emergency calls, and all the screaming… The haunting sound of the emergency siren played repeatedly before everything went dark. 

Eventually, the government stepped in, but these monstrous bastards were hard to kill. The vast majority moved on all fours, ranging from the size of a medium dog to an elephant—at least, that was the biggest one Reigen had ever seen. Who knows exactly how big these things got? 

They were creatures made of flesh and bone, literally. They were skeleton-like. Thick, bone-like limbs, tails, heads, and bodies. Their spines were like razor-sharp spikes protruding from their backs, ranging in length and size; other bone spikes would occasionally be found on their limbs or heads but were much smaller in comparison. Their long, sweeping tails end in sharp, stabbing bone. They had long, knifelike teeth and glowing eyes in various colors, the most common being red or blue. Their heads reminded Reigen of animal skulls, like bears, wolves, and lions. Some even resembled deer or boars. They weren’t animals, though; they always looked off in some unnerving way, and they were incredibly creepy. 

The monsters had some flesh on their bodies, mostly around their backs, torsos, and necks, but it wasn’t much. Sometimes, the flesh spread halfway down their legs, but their bones mostly remained exposed. Their skin ranged in color from blue to black and even dark grey. It was incredibly tough and durable. Their skin was like steel, and their bones were like diamonds. 

First, they tried guns, of course, but it was hard to pierce their tough skin. Even the heavy-duty weapons struggled to cause damage. While it would kill them eventually, it took way too long, and by then, it was too late. They tried burning them, but again, they weren’t too affected by fire. If someone stuck one in a furnace, it would succumb eventually, but good luck with that. It requires a cooking time of at least twelve hours. Drowning was also a no-go. It was surprising that it was even attempted. 

Then, they brought in the psychics. Another surprising move. It turned out the government had a lot of psychics on their side. Unfortunately, psychic powers didn’t work all that well on them either. They weren’t spirits, so they couldn’t be exorcised. Can’t burn them with pyrokinesis, can’t freeze them with cryokinesis as the cold does not bother them, and they bust right out of any ice prison. They could toss them around all they wanted with telekinesis, but the monsters would just get right back up. 

These beasts were nearly indestructible, but it wasn’t impossible. Sure, it could take a long time to kill them. However, in his four years of dealing with this shit, Reigen learned a trick that not a lot of people know about. A weak spot on the monsters' bodies. Right below the jaw, where the neck and jawline meet, the flesh is softer, there’s a weak spot in the cervical vertebrae. Some have more flesh there than others, and the timing has to be just right, the area must be hit perfectly, and POP! The head comes right off. 

Decapitation seemed to be the quickest way to kill these things, but it was tough to pull off, and Reigen had only succeeded a few times. One reason was that he got lucky, and two, the ones he managed to kill were no bigger than dogs. He had yet to take on a gargantuan beast, and he desperately hoped he never would. 

While he mostly used his machete for the monsters, he kept his gun for other reasons. These creatures weren’t the only dangerous things lurking around here. 

Luckily, the sun remained high for just a bit longer, giving him time to try to find shelter for the night. Another theory or rumor that Reigen had heard in his years of survival is that wherever these beasts came from, it must have been dark all the time. They seemed to prefer the night over the day. They were more active at night and appeared thrown off by the daylight when this all first started. 

However, that doesn’t mean they weren’t utterly scarce during the daytime. Being more active in the dark doesn’t mean being completely inactive in the light. There was still a chance of running into one. It reminded Reigen of raccoons. Nocturnal little thieves that he’d still see digging through his trash in broad daylight. But these were a lot more dangerous. Raccoons have rabies; these monsters just kill and sometimes eat people. 

Reigen had always considered himself lucky, and so far, he was lucky. He knew how to keep quiet and hide. He knew how to survive. It was a hard lesson at first, but he’s learned. Unfortunately, most of Reigen’s survival skills relied on other people. In the years, he has gone through a small handful of groups. And he’s learned the two aspects that tend to destroy these groups the most: the monsters and the people. 

Reigen also found that people have a better chance of survival if they stick together. His first group was a small band of people from the same building where he worked. His office, Spirits & Such Consultation, was on the top floor. Below him was an accounting firm, and below that was a small insurance company. Needless to say, the people were a bit boring—typical dull and lifeless office workers. 

When things started to get bad, Reigen and the rest of the building's residents found themselves stuck at their office, unable to leave. After that, the group decided to stay together, quickly figuring that going off alone could be dangerous and result in a premature loss of life. 

This worked for a while, months in fact, but some people started to crack after some time; a world like this wasn’t for everyone. Some were too reckless, and some were too flighty. Trusting anyone became increasingly difficult. 

Reigen recalled an incident with some bastard about his age from the insurance agency. Reigen, the other man, and a couple of others ventured out to try and find more food. As they silently walked the streets, they saw an injured older man wandering the streets helplessly. Reigen and the others wanted to help the man, but the insurance asshole informed them that they didn't have the recourses, hardly having any for themselves. The insurance man also told them the old man was a good distraction for the monsters. Heartless bastard, Reigen thought. 

Not even two weeks later, the shoe was on the other foot. The insurance agent ended up getting himself into a terrible situation, screaming bloody murder as a terrifying beast was chasing him. Reigen and the others decided they had no choice. The group left him as a distraction for the monsters while they got away. Oh well… The others weren’t going to get themselves killed over a man who wouldn’t do the same for them. That’s how the world was now. 

The group fell apart a few weeks after that. Weaker ones were picked off one by one, and some other individuals chose their own way out. Eventually, Reigen was completely alone. It took about a week before he found another group of survivors. Of course, that one didn’t last either, and Reigen moved on from one group to the next. 

Now, he was alone yet again. Survivors were getting hard to come by these days, but Reigen had a good feeling. He always tried to look at the bright side of a situation. He’s also been successful with every group he’s come across. He had a hell of a silver tongue and could weasel his way in and out of most situations. He’d find another group soon enough. 

He let out a tired groan as he stopped momentarily, lifting a foot and wiggling it. His feet were killing him, and his shoes were nearly falling apart. Each step grew increasingly painful and uncomfortable. He’d have to find some boots if he could, not to mention some warmer clothes. Winter was drawing near, and he had a feeling it was going to be brutal this year. 

He huffed and crouched down to adjust his shoelaces. The late autumn chill was a bit biting, and his cold fingers were already starting to fumble with the laces. He’d need to invest in some gloves, too. The one positive about the apocalypse was that he didn’t have to buy his new clothes. He could just take them right off the rack if he could find what he needed, at the very least. Most places have been ransacked, but it depends on where to look. 

Reigen felt exhaustion seep further into his muscles and needed to find someplace to settle. The downside was that he was in a part of the city that arguably had the most damage. Most buildings on this side of town were in complete ruin and would probably collapse on him as he slept. They also wouldn’t do well keeping the monsters out. 

He pulled his laces firmly, tightened them a little more, and began to re-tie them, hoping his shoes would hold out just a little longer until he could find better ones. He suddenly halted, frozen in place, when he heard something. He sat motionless like a statue as he strained to listen. It sounded like someone was speaking just around the corner of the nearby building. 

He slowly and silently straightened up and took steady, quiet steps to the corner. Reigen knew it was survivors, humans, but even with humans, he had to be careful. Maybe they were friendly, and he just landed himself a new group. For now, he had to lie low and scope out the situation. 

He placed his hand on the cold, rigid brick of the building and subtly peeked out, trying to get a glimpse of what he might be dealing with. His eyes scanned the empty street until he finally noticed two people several buildings down. They were too far away to make out any of what they were saying; the distant conversation sounded muffled, but Reigen took in their appearances. 

The first guy, who had his back to Reigen, was quite tall and quite bald, with broad shoulders and a very straight posture. The second guy, facing the bald man and towards Reigen, was slightly shorter. He appeared to have a mustache and goatee, with white streaks in his hair. It also looked as though he had some kind of scar on his face, but it was difficult for Reigen to determine from this distance.

“Well, what do we have here?” A gruff voice suddenly spoke from behind him. Reigen felt his heart practically leap to his throat as he swiftly turned around to meet whoever had just snuck up on him. He somehow managed to refrain from grabbing any of his weapons on instinct. 

Before him stood two more guys, just mere feet away from him. One was thinner, with dark brown hair, a pair of glasses, and a harsh look on his face. The other guy was more buff, with lighter sandy hair in a mohawk style. This man had a more grumpy, tough-guy look. However, Reigen couldn’t miss how both men had scars on their faces. 

They wore casual clothing, as any survivor wore these days, and they were both a bit intimidating. Mohawk man looked like he could snap Reigen’s poor, fragile spine in half if he wanted to, and glasses held onto some kind of katana. Reigen needed to be careful. 

The two men eyed him suspiciously as if they were waiting for him to answer. Reigen swallowed hard and straightened up. Time to show off the charm and hopefully get out of the situation or get recruited into a new group. These guys seemed tough, and he sure as hell didn’t want to piss them off. 

Reigen shoved his unease deeper into the pit of his stomach and finally worked up a reply, keeping calm and collected. “Good evening, gentlemen. I wasn’t exactly expecting to run into anyone out here.” Which wasn’t a total lie. Especially in this part of the city. 

They continued to stare at him, the muscly guy crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah, well, you're in our area.” As he spoke, Reigen concluded that he was the gruff voice he had heard a moment ago. 

“Koyama,” the man with the glasses spoke up, his voice lightly scolding, his face still stern. He glanced at his friend from the corner of his eye before returning to Reigen. “Who are you?” he asked, straight to the point. 

So far, so good. It's time to reel them in. Reigen’s posture and tone rang with confidence as he gladly introduced himself. “My name’s Reigen Arataka. The greatest psychic of the 21st century.” That was usually his selling point, apocalypse or not. Besides, who wouldn’t want a psychic in their group? They were at least somewhat helpful, right? 

“You’re a psychic?” glasses asked. Although his tone was flat, he seemed to be somewhat surprised by the information. Reigen thought he’d be met with immediate suspicion, but that wasn’t the case. This was good. Very good. 

“Yessir, I am.” Reigen gave an affirmative nod, still spewing calm and confidence. He had to really sell it, of course. Confidence is key.

Buff dude, Koyama, as glasses called him, made a hmph sound as he continued to eye Reigen. “That’s good. So are we.” He spoke as if it were a casual matter, like they had a shared hobby, but his voice also showed a hint of smugness.

Reigen nearly jolted in surprise but managed to refrain from doing so. He knew psychics were out there, but a group of them? There was no way. Were they messing with him? He tried to come up with something to say, but Koyama cut him off. 

“Why haven't we seen you around here before?” The man is starting to look slightly less and less skeptical of Reigen. Glasses, however, still has a steely look in his eyes that Reigen can’t quite figure out. 

“I’m not from around here,” he lies smoothly. “I’ve been traveling around for a while, trying to find a good spot to settle. The city seems like an easy place to lay low. Also, trying to find a safe place before winter hits.” 

After a moment of silence, glasses guy spoke again. “You aren’t with anyone?” 

Reigen shakes his head, again threading more lies together. His next answer wasn’t fully a lie; he was alone, but he added a little more flair to it. “No. I tend to travel alone. I’ve been on my own for a very long time.” If he tells them about all his failed groups, they might think he’s the problem. 

Glasses looked a little surprised, while the buff dude seemed somewhat impressed. A smirk suddenly spread across his face, and he let out an amused chuckle. “Damn, you must be good at what you do if you’re able to survive on your own this long.”

Reigen smiles a confident but slightly shaky smile. “You could say that,” he told them with a shrug. 

The two men then seemed to look at each other as if silently communicating something. The silence stretched on for a moment before they focused on Reigen again. 

“Look,” Koyama started, and Reigen prepared for the worst. “We could always use more guys like you on our side. Espers are always welcome among us. Well, not all of them.”

Reigen didn’t know what that meant, but he didn’t question it. He also couldn’t help that he most likely looked dumbfounded right now. He was probably going to ruin this for himself. “Wait… Are you serious?” 

Koyama huffed and rolled his eyes. “What, you want a fucking job interview?” 

Reigen immediately put his hands up, feeling a nervous sweat gather near his forehead. “No, no, of course not! It's just that a lot of people can be quite cautious these days about who they talk to or let in their circles.” 

“You’re an esper, aren’t you?” Koyama continued, still looking a bit annoyed. “Then you’re good in our book. Our group gathers espers anyway. You’re a lot more useful than a regular person. Besides, given what you’ve been through, you must be strong.” 

Ouch. As a regular person, that was a little insulting. But Reigen didn’t let it bother him too much, as it was also unfortunately true. However, right now, he isn’t a regular person. He is the greatest psychic of the 21st century. He hoped this lie wouldn’t bite him in the ass. 

His mind also lingered on a specific piece of information this man just supplied. Their group gathers espers? He starts to wonder just how many are in this group. As the man said, espers are useful, so Reigen hoped this group was using their abilities to protect others. 

However, Koyama said they take in some espers but not all . Reigen still didn’t understand what that meant. Did they have a personal vendetta against certain espers? Was there a rival group or something weird like that? He decided not to think about it too hard. He’s been recruited, and that's all that matters. 

“Besides, if it turns out you suck, we’ll just kill ya.” The man shrugged with a sly smirk. His tone was somewhat joking, but Reigen honestly couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. He probably was. 

Reigen still couldn’t believe the offer came so quickly. These weird guys just blindly believed he was a psychic and instantly offered him to join their group. Reigen wasn’t complaining, though; this was an in. He was just invited to join a group of what looked to be powerful espers. It was the ultimate protection. The question was, how long could Reigen keep up his lie before they discovered he wasn’t actually like them? They seemed kinda… gullible. 

“Ya know,” Reigen started, still holding himself high. “I have been traveling for quite a while. I could use the break, and you guys seem interesting enough.” Reigen Arataka, what are you getting yourself into? 

The other, more sten-looking man nods. “Come with us,” he instructs and guides Reigen along. 

And just like that, Reigen went from tying his shoe to joining a new group. He figured it would be longer before he found his next group, and he certainly wasn’t expecting a group of so-called espers, but he had no problem taking what he could get. 

As they walked, glasses man finally introduced himself as Sakurai. They met up with the other two men Reigen saw in the street, and he learned that their names were Terada and Muraki. They explained that their group was actually quite big, but Reigen has always been good with names and faces. It’s all part of business, after all. 

They also explain that their crew is called Claw. Reigen never understood the whole group naming thing. This was a recent trend among surviving groups. He figured it was a way of distinguishing themselves from other groups. Perhaps giving themselves a name or title made their group feel more important, but he wasn’t sure. 

They guided him through the city to another building. This building was more intact and not quite falling apart; the structure remained strong. Reigen wasn’t sure what this building used to be, though. It was mostly cleared out of any unnecessary clutter, and blank stone walls remained. They made it clear it wasn’t a main base of operations. 

Reigen assumed they had a bigger operation somewhere else and that this was just a campsite. Although they said their group was big, he had only met a handful of people so far. Still, he was growing curious about how this group operated. 

He decided to hold all his questions for now. He wanted to learn what he could about these people through what they automatically felt like sharing. So far, they were practically spilling their guts to Reigen, the newest member. He figured it was because they didn't feel particularly threatened by him. If Reigen turned out to be lying or against them, he was vastly outnumbered. They didn’t seem concerned by him in the slightest. 

Upon arrival at the building, Reigen met a few more people, and it wasn’t long before they settled in for the evening. The sun was finally lowering in the sky. The group gathered by a small fire kept secure in a makeshift fire pit surrounded by various stones and bricks. The surrounding area was dark, but the fire was bright, casting a warm glow on the people huddled around it. 

A small meal was prepared, and soon, a bowl of some mysterious stew was shoved in Reigen’s direction. He assumed it was probably an MRE, but he wasn’t complaining in the slightest. A meal was a meal, and it had been a while since he’d had one. He graciously took the bowl and began to dig in. 

After a short time, the group began quietly discussing plans for the next day. Reigen was only half listening, still unsure of how he felt about this group. They seemed relatively cool so far, inviting him in and being kind of welcoming, but Reigen had lied to them, and he was still worried about being caught in that lie. Then again, they claimed they were psychic, too. Who's to say they weren’t lying? 

“Riegen.” A voice snapped him from his thoughts, and he looked up to see Sakurai staring at him. “You will be joining Koyama and me on our mission tomorrow.” 

“Mission?” he asked, hoping they wouldn’t be upset that he wasn’t exactly listening. 

The man looked marginally irritated but brushed it off. “Each of us splits into pairs, and we spread out throughout the city to gather our supplies. Since it’s your first time, you will join Koyama and me tomorrow, and we’ll show you what we mean.” 

Oh, so it was just a standard supply run. That didn’t sound too bad. Reigen had been on plenty in his time. He even considered himself an expert on the topic. Knowing where to look, how to move quickly, and how to stay hidden for a quick and easy in and out. 

“Ah, sure, sounds good,” Reigen agreed with a nod. Honestly, how hard could it be? It might also be a good opportunity to prove himself. 

“Should be pretty smooth,” Koyama shrugged. “Just as long as we don’t run into that stupid fucking kid.” 

Wait, what? A kid? Reigen perked up at that. “What do you mean?”

Koyama huffed and rolled his eyes at the thought of this kid he suddenly brought up.  Like even talking about it pissed him off. How could a kid upset him that much? 

“This damn brat that steals our shit!” the man snarled. Reigen nearly flinched while Sakurai glared at his teammate. 

“Koyama, keep your voice down,” Sakurai warned. 

Koyama shook his head, turning away grouchily while Sakurai continued with the topic. “There is a young boy who often targets us during our supply runs,” he explained. “This is why we send multiple groups at once, he can only focus on one at a time. Anyway, he tends to ambush us and steal our supplies while out on these runs.” 

“He’s a fucking bandit! A little thief!” Koyama seemed especially pissed about this. Reigen immediately got the sense that the man would probably beat the kid up if he ever ran into him and would even take pleasure in doing so. Still… a kid? 

“How can one kid cause you so many issues?” he asked, genuinely curious. 

Sakurai sighed, turning his gaze to the flames in front of them. “He’s one kid, but he’s pretty strong. He’s an esper, like us, and knows how to use his abilities well. We could never pin him down.” 

Reigen sat back in thought. I guess that’s what they meant when they said not all espers were welcome. They certainly seemed to hate this kid. 

He was starting to wonder if this group was worth it. If they can’t even handle some little kid stealing from them, how strong can these guys be? He figured he’d just have to wait and see. If it doesn’t work out, he can just sneak off and move on. There had to be other groups out there. 

For now, he’ll stick around and see what these guys are all about. He was also quite curious about this so-called bandit. This kid must be strong if he’s taking on a group of adults like this.

Chapter Text

The next day rolled around quickly and started rather uneventfully. Reigen woke up after sleeping on an uncomfortable and cold floor, had another MRE for breakfast, and took some time to get to know these Claw people better. After some conversations, Reigen quickly determined they were quite strange but still seemed decent. And so far they weren’t questioning a damn thing about Reigen which was excellent. 

By late afternoon, Reigen had once again found himself following his two new teammates, Koyama and Sakurai, through the ruined city. They explained that their little party would be hitting up the hospital for medicine and medical supplies. Those items are always good to have. Smart. Though the hospital seemed like an obvious place to scavenge, Reigen assumed it would have been cleared out by now. But the two other men seemed confident in their current endeavor. 

The afternoon sun was surprisingly warm today, but it was also obnoxiously bright, glaring and reflecting off some remaining glass from these ruined buildings. Reigen had to shield his eyes a few times, silently hoping he wouldn’t miss a crucial detail such as a monster lurking around a corner. The streets were fairly quiet at least, with the occasional rustle of the dry grass or a distant bird call. This was a good sign, no monsters yet. 

As they maneuvered through the streets, Koyama spoke up from a few feet ahead of him. “Alright, new guy, this whole thing is routine. There’s also not much to it. So just sit back and observe for now.” 

Reigen nodded with an agreeable hum, but he wasn’t sure what he would need to observe. It was a supply run; nothing difficult about it other than the possibility of running into something undesirable. Reigen had already mentioned that he spends most of his time alone, so they should know he has done something like this before, multiple times. 

As they approached the hospital, it seemed relatively intact. It was a little run down, but overall, it was still standing with not too much damage on the outside. More vines climbed the outside walls, reaching towards the sun, and there was some weathering on the brick. Inside, though, Reigen was sure it would be another story. He hadn’t been to this part of town in a long while, and didn’t think much would be out here anymore. 

Reigen walked behind the two men as they casually strolled up to the doors like they owned the place. Of course, the automatic doors didn’t work anymore, so they had to be pried open, which Koyama gladly did with ease. Even the glass on the doors remained. They were dirty and a bit scratched up, but mostly undamaged. 

As they stepped inside, it was silent, which was a good sign. The outside sunrays lit the hospital lobby well enough as dust particles floated freely in the bright beams. 

Surprisingly, the area wasn’t as trashed as Reigen was expecting. It almost seemed like someone was taking care of the place. No broken glass or debris was thrown about. Despite the place being a bit dirty and run down, it wasn't quite the disarray he had imagined it might be. It just looked like a dirty old hospital lobby. Old wheelchairs and gurneys were neatly piled into a corner, the beginnings of rust clung to the metal, and some dust had settled on the plastic chairs of the waiting area.  

Reigen’s eyes roamed over the area, taking it in, but his attention was dragged elsewhere when Koyama cleared his throat and marched up to what was probably the hospital reception desk back in the day. The man stopped next to it, balled his hand into a fist, and then slammed it against the desk multiple times, creating a repetitive and noisy banging sound that echoed through the empty halls. The desk even rumbled from the impact, and the lobby itself felt like it was rattling. 

“Come on out,” he called. “We don’t got all day!” 

A confused expression appeared on Reigen’s face as he wondered who the man was calling for. As the noise died down, the silence that came after stretched on for a moment before the distant sound of a door squeaking caught Reigen’s attention. He looked towards the noise and noticed a few people tentatively emerging from the corridor leading further into the hospital as anxious footsteps resonated through the hall. This place wasn’t entirely abandoned after all. 

Three people slowly approached the lobby: two women and a man. One woman appeared older and wore what looked to be a white lab coat. She must have been a doctor back in the day who decided to stay in her place of work and continue to wear her uniform proudly, even after all this. Reigen then wondered if the other two may have been nurses. 

They stopped several feet from Reigen and his teammates. They seemed uneasy and apprehensive, hardly looking their way, keeping their eyes and heads low, and had yet to say anything to the men. Koyama crossed his arms impatiently, and Reigen started to get a bad feeling deep in his gut. 

The man who appeared among them was the first to move as he slowly approached Koyama and Sakurai. He looked nervous, almost scared of them, but he also tried, and failed, to put on a brave face. 

“You know why we're here,” Sakurai started, eyeing the man with the same cold gaze Reigen was under less than twenty-four hours ago. 

“Please,” the man spoke up hesitantly, his voice wavering. “We need this medicine. M-Mr. Hayashi has come down with something awful, and he needs–” 

“Don’t care,” Koyama interrupted, arrogance dripping from his tone. “Give us our stuff.” 

Reigen’s body felt tense, and he started to feel sick in his stomach. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions; maybe this was just some kind of trade deal, an exchange of goods. Perhaps these people owed Claw this stuff. Still, it didn’t feel right to take it from them if they needed it as well, especially if they truly had someone sick in their group. 

Yet, Reigen stood back, watching the exchange. He should say something. Koyama and Sakurai didn’t need to be so harsh. His hands started to feel clammy, so he wiped them on his dirty pants. He should speak up. As he opened his mouth, ready to talk the men down, he heard another sound from deeper in the hospital. It sounded like another door. 

From further down the corridor, Reigen spotted more people peeking out of rooms and around corners, silently observing the situation. There looked to be a handful of them, showing the same trepidation the first three did. He also noted that most of them looked a bit weaker, ranging from sick to elderly. They just watched, as silent as the dead, seemingly too afraid to even speak, not even in hushed whispers. 

He was right. These three people in front of them had to have worked here back when things were normal. It was noble of them, to continue their quest to care for others, even when the world went to shit. And his two new teammates just dragged Reigen here to steal from these poor people. Not to mention these people were terrified. Reigen could only imagine what Claw had done to make these people so fearful.

That sick feeling only doubled, squeezing his insides with shame and guilt. Anger and fury prickled and crawled against his skin, pulling at his nerves and tendons, causing his hands to clench into fists. This wasn’t what he expected. This wasn’t his idea, but now he was part of it. His sweaty hands tightened even further around his pants, bunching up the fabric. Speak up, damnit!  

“Hey, we should–” 

“Get your asses moving!” Koyama barked fiercely, slamming a fist onto the reception desk and cracking the entire thing nearly in half. The doctor and nurses, even Reigen, all flinched in unison. His mouth suddenly felt dry, and he couldn’t get his tongue to cooperate. Koyama was a strong-looking man, but that wasn’t normal. There was greater power behind that blow. 

Sakurai withdrew his katana and pointed it at the terrified workers. Reigen’s gaze shifted to the floor as he heard panicked gasps from them. He couldn’t bring himself to watch anymore.

 “We’re going! We’re going…” the male nurse from before said tremulously, and hurried footsteps faded down the hall. 

With his eyes fixated on the dirty tile floor, Reigen suddenly felt dizzy. This wasn’t right, and it wasn’t okay. But… what could he do? If he tried anything, not only was he risking his own life, but the lives of the people within the hospital as well. He could try to talk, his greatest skill, but he wasn’t sure they’d even listen. Pissing them off also didn’t seem like the brightest idea right now either. First, it was the desk that was savagely cracked, but next it could be Reigen’s skull. 

Reigen let his eyes slowly rise again, staring back down the hall at the scared, sick, and helpless eyes that gazed back at him. He couldn’t look away, it was like someone was holding his head still, forcing him to look at the faces of the people he was indirectly hurting. A quiet, shaky breath passed his lips. This was wrong… 

After several minutes that felt like centuries had passed, the male nurse rushed back to them with what looked like a black duffel bag. Koyama aggressively snatched the bag while Sakurai trained his weapon on the nurse, who in turn, held his hands up and took a few steps back. Koyama unzipped the bag and checked its contents before releasing a satisfied chuckle. “Everything seems to be in order.” 

Sakurai huffed and re-sheathed his weapon while Koyama gave them a disgustingly slimy smirk. “Pleasure doing business with you,” he said, waving the bag in front of them, almost like he was taunting them. Completely vile. What an absolute jackass. 

The two then turned to leave. Reigen’s mind finally caught up as they walked past him. He took one last look at the three people before him. The man hung his head, balling his hands into fists while one of the women gently touched his arm and whispered reassurances to him. Reigen could tell the man felt frustrated and ashamed that he couldn’t do anything. He understood; he felt the same way. 

“Oi! Newbie, let's go!” Reigen was pulled from his thoughts by Koyama’s call. He glanced back to see the two waiting for him by the doors. He let out a soft sigh before reluctantly joining up with his group. A group he suddenly felt like he didn’t want to be a part of anymore… 

Back out on the street, Reigen followed the other two numbly. He was vaguely aware of Koyama laughing and cracking jokes about the looks on those poor people’s faces. He tried to tune him out as he watched the cracked pavement pass beneath his feet. Reigen still felt absolutely sick and revolted, his chest was uncomfortably tight.

He once again snapped back to reality when he heard Koyama address him again. “What do you think, new guy? Easy stuff, huh?” 

Reigen raised his head and peered at the man walking a few feet ahead of him. Koyama stared back at Reigen, holding the duffel bag over his shoulder by the strap. Reigen sucked in a breath, his mouth still felt dry. “Uh, yeah. So that was some kind of trade deal, right?” he asked, somehow managing to keep his nervousness from his tone. 

Koyama and Sakurai glanced at each other. It was again like they were silently communicating something between them, just like yesterday. “That’s right,” Sakurai spoke up this time. “They give us supplies in exchange for protection.” 

Reigen nearly clicked his tongue in annoyance but kept himself collected. Protection from what? You assholes? There’s no way this group was protecting them from the monsters. It's just an excuse to steal.  

It still left Reigen in disbelief. He’d been with a handful of groups, and while yes, some of them did have the occasional asshole, no group was this cruel. It seemed like everyone in this group was an asshole. Reigen was convinced that the other pairs that split off were also stealing supplies. Food, weapons, whatever… Were they not all in this together? Psychic powers or not, they were all human, all doing what they could to survive. They needed to look out for each other, not harm each other. But… Reigen guessed that’s just how the world is now. Just like when his first group left the insurance agent behind. 

He wasn’t going to do that, though. He refused to be part of it. He’d sneak off now, but it would be too suspicious. He’d wait until the dead of night and sneak away then. He decided this group wasn’t worth it, no matter how safe he was. He’d rather be on his own than with callous individuals like this. 

Reigen was a conman back in the day, a fraud, and sometimes his intentions could be selfish, but he wasn’t a cruel person. Even if his scams were scams, he would still do what he could to help others. If he felt his job wasn’t done well, he would flat out refuse payment. He wasn’t a complete jackass, not like these people. 

Reigen glanced at the two men again when he heard them bickering ahead of him. 

“Koyama, you better keep a tight hold on that bag.” 

Koyama instantly rolled his eyes. “Will you relax? If the kid shows up, he’s not gonna snatch this bag from my iron grip. He’d probably snag it from your skinny ass arms though.” 

Reigen completely forgot about their little bandit issue. He let his eyes wander the surrounding streets, but hadn’t seen or heard anything yet. Everything was just as vacant as ever. Shadowy grey clouds began to gather in the sky, and the wind picked up ever so slightly. 

It was a few more minutes of silent walking before Reigen got a strange chill up his spine. He thought it might have been the cool late autumn air, but something felt… off. The air felt thick, almost heavy. He wasn’t the only one to notice as the other two men seemed to stop and look around. 

Koyama’s grip on the bag’s strap tightened, but before anyone could get a word out, the thick black strap was suddenly and inexplicably cut. The fabric was cleanly sliced by something unseen, and the bag began falling towards the ground. Before it hit the pavement, it suddenly froze in mid-air before jutting off in another direction away from them. 

Reigen froze in his spot. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. It was as if the bag had come to life and had flown away on its own. He watched as the bag glided down the street toward an open alleyway. There, it landed in the outstretched hand of a figure standing near the alleyway. 

The figure was shorter and skinnier, wearing dark pants and sneakers that were falling apart. They also wore a dark grey hoodie that was dirty and worn. The hood was up, and Reigen couldn’t see much of their face. They lowered their arm to their side, gripping the bag tightly in their pale fingers. 

“Damnit!” Koyama growled between clenched teeth. “Not this time, brat!” The man was already charging towards the thief while Sakurai was pulling out his katana. Koyama was visibly pissed, a strange red aura forming around his arms, coiling up them like snakes as he ran at the mysterious person. 

Reigen saw the thief tense up ever so slightly and prepared to dodge the oncoming attack. As the larger man drew near, he reeled back his fist and launched it towards the thief. They managed to dodge at the last second, leaping out of the way, as Koyama’s fist slammed into the ground where they once stood, instantly breaking apart the pavement in large cracks. 

Holy shit! Reigen thought as he watched the scene play out, remaining stock still where he stood. As the thief landed a few feet away, they hardly had time to recover as Sakurai came up behind them, ready to swing his sword. The thief instantly ducked out of the way of the swing and tightened their hold on the bag, determined not to let the men get it back.

Sakurai swung a few more times, and the thief ducked and dodged successfully, but they were clearly looking for a way out. Koyama rushed them again, catching the thief’s attention. Reigen heard himself gasp loudly as he watched Sakurai’s sword swing down toward the bandit. It was going to hit them! Slice them right in half! But it didn’t… 

The sword smacked down on some sort of blue, ripply bubble that surrounded the stranger. It was like some kind of barrier that waved like water undulations when hit. While it stopped the sword, Koyama rapidly banged his fists against the barrier. The thief swiveled their head around, once again looking for an opening for escape, but it wasn’t long before Koyama’s blows shattered the barrier. Once the man had his opening, he slammed his fist into the thief's stomach, knocking them back several feet and to the ground. The bag flew out of their hand and skidded to a stop right in front of Reigen. 

Reigen’s eyes landed on the bag, and he suddenly realized this was real life, and he was here, not watching some scene from an action movie. The thief let out a pained groan, coughing a few times as they began to recover and push themselves back up.  

“Reigen! Grab the bag!” Koyama demanded as he and Sakurai were charging towards the stranger to most likely finish them off. The bandit looked back at the two before turning their gaze to Reigen. They recovered quickly and scrambled to their feet, rushing to Reigen and the bag. 

Reigen still had yet to move, hardly even registering the words that were just shouted in his direction. The strange bandit suddenly skid in front of him and firmly grabbed onto the bag. Time felt like it slowed down as Reigen looked down at the thief crouched before him, snagging the supplies, and the thief briefly glanced back up at Reigen. The man’s eyes widened slightly as, for a split second, under the darkened hood, he faintly saw the face of a young boy. It only lasted a second before the kid bolted off in another direction, towards another nearby alleyway, supplies in hand. They weren’t kidding… 

The kid quickly disappeared into the dark shadows, and Sakurai slashed his sword in the direction he went, trying to get a last-second hit in. This caused a large slash to cut across the brick of a building, and dust and stone crumbled onto the street. This whole ordeal was causing an awful lot of noise, which Reigen wasn’t a fan of. They were going to draw attention. Unwanted attention. 

As Sakurai straightened up, Koyama darted into the dark alley, his rapid footsteps fading out the deeper he got. Reigen eyed the passage, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. It was only a few moments later when Koyama emerged from the shadows, empty-handed and pissed. He had lost the kid. 

He clenched his fists and glared daggers at Reigen before storming toward him. Reigen’s heart dropped to his stomach. This was it; his life was over. Koyama roughly grabbed the front of Reigen’s shirt, manhandling him as Reigen put his hands up defensively. 

“What the fuck is your problem?! Why didn’t you do anything?” the man snarled. 

Koyama was angrily demanding answers—answers Reigen didn’t really have or that they probably didn’t want to hear. Reigen swallowed the nervous lump in his throat and could feel himself sweating like an animal. 

“Sorry, I just wasn’t actually expecting a kid to pop up out of nowhere. I thought you were exaggerating a little, to be honest.” He let out a calm chuckle as if he wasn’t about to be beaten to a pulp by this very muscly esper. “I’ve never actually fought a kid before. It’s not something I really go around doing. I’m an adult; it just feels wrong.”

“What the hell you tryin’ to say, huh?!” This guy had some serious issues. Thankfully, Sakurai came up and tapped the furious man on the arm. 

“Koyama, it’s fine. We still have plenty of medicine back at the home base. We’ll find more.” He roughly tapped the man’s arm a second time, trying to get him to release his vicious hold on Reigen. Koyama clicked his tongue and finally let Reigen go, but shoved him in the process. 

Reigen cleared his throat as he straightened up and brushed his hand over his now wrinkled shirt. “Sorry, I’ll do better next time.” 

“You better…” Koyama warned, stepping away from him. It was now Reigen’s turn to glare at the man, doing everything in his power not to mutter the word ‘asshole’ under his breath. He doesn’t even feel bad that he had let the kid steal from them. They stole the medicine first! Fuck them! 

Sakurai sighed and shook his head. “Let’s just get out of–” his words died out suddenly when distant growls could be heard. “Damnit…” he huffed and gripped his sword tightly. 

“Chill out,” Koyama muttered, looking around for the source, eyes scouring the streets. “It just sounds like a few…” 

Reigen’s body felt stiff again as fear clawed down his spine. He prayed these idiots could handle the monsters better than they could handle the kid. It was all that damn noise they caused, it drew the monsters in. As much as he didn’t want to be around these guys, his best chance of survival right now was sticking close. 

All three men let their eyes wander the streets, heads turning in different directions, trying to find where the beasts would emerge from. The growls of monsters grew louder, the sound reverberating off the walls of the nearby buildings. They soon realized the sounds weren’t down low. Their gazes scaled the buildings, all the way to the tops. Against the darkening grey sky, the creatures emerged over the ledges. They were starting to climb down from the rooftops. There had to be at least ten of them, all varying in size. 

“Fuck, that’s more than a few…” Reigen mumbled. Even the two other men looked slightly nervous but were ready to stand their ground. 

“We can handle them,” Koyama declared, getting ready for a fight. Reigen wasn’t sure what they were thinking, but this was a no-win situation in his mind. To him, they were screwed. 

The monsters slowly scaled down the sides of the buildings like spiders, their haunting eyes locked on the three men. Their growls were low and menacing. Reigen could feel the sound vibrate against his soul. Their sharp claws and skeletal feet scraped against the concrete as they leaped to the ground. 

Reigen drew in a shaky breath. They were practically surrounded. This wasn’t his first time in a situation like this, though they usually don’t end well. He briefly tore his eyes away from the monsters and glanced down the nearby alley. An escape route if need be. He then exhaled softly, securely grabbing his weapon. 

Sakurai held his sword firm, and of course, Koyama’s weapon was his fists. Still, Reigen wasn’t entirely sure what these guys could handle and what they couldn’t. 

The creatures slowly drew nearer, closing the gap as if stalking their prey. Though they were huge, their steps were light, like a cat’s. The noises that erupted past their sharp teeth sounded like a mix of a crocodile's hiss and a tiger's rumbling.

Then, the first one charged. Sakurai’s sword instantly met with its teeth, producing a loud metallic clang that resounded through the streets. The beast began thrashing its head back and forth like a rabid dog, snarling and trying to rip the man’s weapon from his hands. He held tight, pumping more psychic energy into the katana. 

While Sakurai played tug-of-war with his weapon, another lunged toward them, and Koyama hit the beast hard, knocking it back. They were closing in quickly, and Reigen could only stand back and watch. He’d only ever taken on one at a time. And the ones he had taken on were smaller. The creatures in this pack were huge. The biggest looked to be the size of a bear, maybe bigger. 

Reigen gripped his machete tightly, his hands feeling slick and sweaty against the wooden handle. He considered that this might be a good time to escape. Get away from these guys. Leave them to distract the monsters while he gets away. He felt shitty about it, obviously, but it's not like he’d be much help anyway. These guys seemed like they could handle themselves, and it was the perfect opportunity to slip away. His eyes slowly slid over to the open alleyway just several feet away. 

Unfortunately, he took his eyes off the commotion and didn’t realize they were being rushed by the biggest of the pack. 

“Reigen, move!” He wasn’t sure who said it, but he was glad they did. He snapped back to what was going on around them and managed to jump out of the way. For some reason, the big one had its sights on Reigen. It was quick to change direction and go for him once more. 

He took this opportunity to head for the open alleyway he had his eyes set on. The other two were distracted, and a monster was currently after him. It was now or never. 

He stumbled for a second but managed to catch himself as he darted down the narrow alley. His machete swished through the air as he ran, his shoes smacking hard against the asphalt. He could still hear the monster just behind him as it squeezed itself into the alley with him, jagged claws scraping the walls and pavement. 

Reigen swiftly turned a corner between two other buildings. He planned to remain in the alleyways, moving from one to another, passing through open streets quickly, to hopefully lose the monster in a maze of corners and buildings. He ran about two blocks and the damn thing was still on his heels. It was large, but it was fast. The only sounds that filled the alleys were the monster's growls and Reigen’s heavy breathing. Sweat continued to drip from his brow and into his eyes. 

His legs were starting to burn, but he couldn’t stop. He glanced back at the creature while he rounded another corner. It was just several feet behind him. While his attention was on the fearsome beast, he failed to notice the old garbage cans and boxes lingering in his running path. He only realized the junk was in front of him when he tripped over it and tumbled to the concrete below him. 

He tried catching himself, sticking his foot out quickly, only for his ankle to shift and bend awkwardly and unnaturally. He was lucky he didn’t land on the sharp edge of his weapon.

He felt a sharp pain jolt through his right ankle as he hissed and gritted his teeth. He didn’t have time to worry, though; the beast would be on him any second. He staggered to his feet and got moving again, but this time, he couldn’t run. The pain in his ankle caused him to limp and stumble, letting the monster gain on him even faster. 

He rounded one more corner, hoping to find someplace to hide, only to be met with a dead end. There was no way out. He was caught. “Shit…” he breathed. All he could do now was fight. He drew in a shuddering breath and slowly turned to face the beast. 

It slowly stalked toward him, growling and snarling. He could do this. He’d killed a couple before, but none this big. It was practically the size of a grizzly, but its head looked like a lion’s skull, with very long and sharp canine teeth that had to be at least a foot in length. The skull didn’t look quite right either, almost alien in a way, its eyes glowing a deep shade of red. Droopy indentations of the bone near its eyes made it look like it had permanently sad eyes. Reigen knew it wasn’t actually sad, though; it was probably thrilled it was about to get a meal. 

He raised his weapon, gripping it tightly in both hands, and got ready to strike once it was close enough. He tried to keep his arms from shaking but was unsuccessful. The beast roared and charged. Reigen swung his weapon with a fierce roar of his own, but missed the neck entirely. The monster swiped at him, causing Reigen to fall back to the ground and drop his weapon with a pathetic clatter that rang through the narrow passage. 

As the beast stood over him, Reigen could practically feel its hot, rancid breath on his face. A fearsome hissing sound erupted from its mouth as it slowly opened its jaws. Disgusting strings of saliva hung between its upper and lower jaws, and Reigen squeezed his eyes shut tightly. This was it… only… An attack never came. 

He cracked one eye open to see the beast still in front of him, but acting strangely. It reeled back suddenly on its hind legs and began screeching as if something was harming it. He didn’t see the purplish-blue aura that seemed to be hugging around the creature’s head. 

He watched in shock as the monster continued to squeal like a dying pig, clawing at some unseen force. It let out one more guttural screech, twitching and spasming before its head suddenly popped off. It's dark blood splattered on the walls of the alleyway and across the pavement at his feet. 

Reigen could feel himself shaking and could hear his fearful panting. Looks like someone else knew the decapitation trick. The head went rolling next to him, its jaw slack. He swallowed thickly, turning his attention back to the body. The headless body staggered before falling to the ground as well with a loud thud. 

Behind it stood the thief's familiar grey hoodie. Their hand was raised, and their hood was still up. Reigen swore he could see glowing red eyes beneath the darkness of the hood. But maybe he was just seeing things after being so worked up. 

Whoever this kid is, he just saved Reigen’s life…

Chapter Text

Reigen exhaled softly as he stared at the numerous cracks in the concrete ceiling above him. He was lying flat on his back on a similar concrete floor, his hands resting over his chest, and his backpack used as a lumpy, uncomfortable pillow. The floor was cold, and the chill was seeping through his jacket. This whole area was chilly, like he was deep in a cave. 

Around him, he heard the sounds of quiet footsteps shuffling about the large and vacant room. He turned his head as the kid walked by him for probably the fifth time, but he wasn’t really counting. It had been about an hour since the kid saved him. 

Reigen had sat there in the alleyway, his palms pressed to the pavement as tiny rocks dug into his skin, the corpse of a beast lying at his feet. Its blood was splattered on his tattered shoes, and its decapitated head rolled to a stop just next to him. He felt himself tremble as he stared at the figure before him, and the figure stared back. He was unsure if his shaking was caused by the person in front of him or because he nearly had his own head separated from his shoulders in one powerful bite. If this person had shown up just a second later… 

The figure then turned his head, glancing down the alley behind them, likely making sure no more monsters were drawing near. It was quiet, but far off in the distance, they could still hear the sound of a fight. Reigen knew it was Koyama and Sakurai. The thief turned back to him, and that’s when Reigen noticed he no longer had the stolen bag on him. He was completely empty-handed. He must have stashed it somewhere safe. 

Reigen’s muscles felt tense as the kid skirted around the monster’s body, taking a few slow but purposeful steps toward him. The darkness of the alleyway shaded his face under the hood even more. He wasn’t sure why he felt such unease; it was just a kid. However, he had just witnessed this kid rip a monster’s head off without even touching it. 

The boy stopped right in front of him, and Reigen briefly wondered if he was next for the same treatment the monster had just received. Maybe he’d lose his head after all, only instead of it being bitten off, it would be telekinetically forced from his body. He wasn’t sure which sounded worse, at least a bite would be quick. 

Then, the kid shot out a hand, and Reigen nearly jerked back. Luckily, he quickly realized the kid was just offering to help him up, with no ill intentions. 

Reigen briefly felt a hint of embarrassment for freaking out, but eventually took the kid’s hand gratefully. He muttered a “Thanks” as he shakily got to his feet, trying not to wince at the pain in his ankle. The boy said nothing in response, subtly wiping his hand on his sweatshirt. Reigen felt a little bad; his hands were quite sweaty. The kid then glanced down the alley again before looking back at Reigen. 

After a bit of awkward staring, he made a motion to the man, encouraging him to follow, and Reigen found himself obliging for some reason. Maybe he just didn’t want to be alone right now. He sure as hell wasn’t returning to the other two, the kid couldn’t be much worse, right? 

While the kid helped him up, he offered no further assistance after. Reigen was on his own when it came to walking on his injured ankle. He winced and hissed with almost every aching step, doing his best to keep up with the kid. 

The boy led him through more alleyways and eventually to another building near a different district in the city. It was a bit larger—bigger than the one the Claw guys were in, at least—and looked like some type of industrial building. Inside, the rooms were wide and open, probably meant to hold large machinery. The sizable rooms also had concrete walls, floors, ceilings, and pillars. It almost felt like a parking garage. 

Like most other buildings, it was run down. Windows were blown out, and walls were crumbling into dust. The floors were grimy with dirt and old stains of who knows what. While it was mostly clear, random debris, such as bricks, rocks, wood planks, and rusted metal, was still scattered around. There were dark stains on some of the walls that Reigen prayed weren’t mold. It was not exactly paradise. 

This is where Reigen currently lay as he watched the boy move around the large room, trying to keep himself occupied. Past the kid, outside the busted windows, he could see the sun setting on the horizon. It lit bright fiery oranges and reds against lingering clouds, making the sky look as if it had been set ablaze. 

The boy had yet to say a single word or even make a sound to Reigen. He kept his eyes and head low as if still hiding himself from the man, worried Reigen might get a peek. Though he seemed quick on his feet earlier, his movements were slow, almost stiff, and zombie-like. 

“Thanks for saving me back there,” Reigen said, hoping to put an end to the awkward silence. He sounded grateful but kept his tone gentle and calm. He hoped in some subtle way it would show the kid that he wasn’t a threat to him. Like he told Koyama, he doesn’t go around fighting or beating up kids. What kind of loser does that? 

The boy turned a moment, barely glancing at him, but still said nothing. He was now rummaging through a small backpack that had been propped against a nearby wall.

Reigen let the silence linger for several seconds more before he made another attempt. “I’m Reigen, by the way.” His focus remained on the kid, and Reigen was starting to suspect the kid was keeping himself occupied so he didn’t have to look at or interact with him. Once again, he went unanswered. 

Reigen sighed. He was trying to be patient. He knew he had to be patient around kids, and this kid did save his life; after all, he could show a little respect and patience. 

“Uh… Can I get your name?” he tried once more. At this point, Reigen didn’t even care if the kid answered his question; he just wanted something—anything! A hum or a sound of acknowledgment would even do. He didn’t exactly like being ignored. It quite honestly drove him a little nuts. 

The boy didn’t even look his way this time. He was busy pulling out an old matchbox from the backpack. He wandered back towards Reigen, where the boy had previously spread out some dry grass and a small bundle of sticks in a neat pile nearby. He crouched close to it and struck the match; it instantly sparked and brought to life a small flame. The sharp scratch and hiss of the match seemed to pierce the silence in the large room. Reigen lifted his head as he watched the kid work.

The boy gently cupped a hand around the flame with the professionalism of a chain smoker, Reigen would know, and slowly lowered it to the pile. The dry grasses began to light first, and the kid swiftly shook out the match before lowering himself further to gently blow on the growing flames, feeding them with more oxygen. 

When he sat up again, he finally looked Reigen in the eye. The man stared back, once again feeling a chill down his spine that he was sure wasn’t from the cold floor. 

Then, to Reigen’s surprise, the boy finally spoke up. “You rolled your ankle. You’re welcome to stay until it's better. Then you can move on.” 

His voice was soft and quiet, as if he were incapable of speaking too loudly. His tone was also flat, nearly devoid of emotion. He was sure that if the building wasn’t so silent, Reigen wouldn’t have even heard the kid the first time. 

Reigen let out another sigh, letting his head drop back down onto his backpack with a dull thud. He didn’t know it at the time, but those would be the only words he would receive from the kid for the rest of that evening. 

He turned his gaze to the ceiling once more, biting back the urge to grumble. He should be grateful—after all, the kid had saved him. He kept on reminding himself of that. His pupils slowly drifted toward the boy again, and he nearly did a double-take when he saw the kid finally push his hood back and off his head. Reigen’s interest was piqued as he finally got to see the face of this mysterious boy. He tried not to make it obvious that he was staring as he took in the boy’s appearance. 

He looked to be around middle school age. His black hair, cut in a bowl-cut style, seemed to be trimmed a bit choppily, as if he did it himself, which wouldn’t be surprising. It was tangled and dirty, and stuck out in places. Even at a glance, Reigen could see intricate mats and knots forming. His face was equally grimy, his clothes no better. Despite his thin frame, his cheeks still held a faint roundness, betraying his youth. But his eyes were… strange. His face was oddly blank, but his eyes looked tired. Tired in a way no kid should look. They were nearly dull and lifeless. Deep, dark circles hung beneath them. It made Reigen wonder what kind of horrors this poor kid had seen in his short life. 

The kid didn’t notice Reigen staring as he sat back near the small fire, his dark eyes watching the tiny flames dance. Reigen was glad the teenager didn’t notice, because he was almost certain he had a sad look on his face. Eyebrows knit together, lips pulled into a small frown. He just felt a little bad for the kid. Not to mention the fire he just built was kind of pathetic. It was small and wasn’t going to last. At least the boy knew how to start a fire. 

Reigen made a couple more attempts to get the kid to speak up again, but they were in vain. The teenager did not utter another word the rest of that evening, and the awkward silence was back. He’d try again tomorrow. He breathed in deeply through his nose and shut his eyes. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.

------

Unfortunately, Reigen didn’t get the chance to try another conversation with the kid, because when he woke up, the boy was nowhere to be seen. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes before letting them wander around the large room, looking towards the windows, the far corner where the kid had slept in, but there was nothing. No sign of him. 

The bright sun filtered through what was left of the glass in the large windows, bathing the room in a warm, bright light. Reigen’s stomach grumbled as he slowly sat up. So much had happened yesterday, he forgot he hadn’t eaten since that morning. 

He huffed and began digging into his backpack. He had to have a protein bar in there somewhere. He blindly shuffled through its contents before his fingers brushed against a sleek wrapper. Bingo. He quickly tore the wrapper open and munched on the snack like a starving animal. He decided he’d just have to sit and wait for the kid to return. He was sure the kid would be back soon. Maybe he’s out stealing more supplies from gullible and unsuspecting espers. 

As he swallowed down his measly breakfast, he glanced at his ankle. It was swollen, but didn’t appear to be too bruised. There was a slight throbbing pain in the joint, which seemed to double when he wiggled it. It wasn’t the worst pain in the world, so he hoped it wouldn’t take too long to heal, and he could get out of here. He wasn’t going back to Claw, that was for sure, but he needed to find a new group to settle in. 

After a couple of hours, he started to feel the itch of boredom in his brain. The kid still hadn't returned, but he wasn’t even sure if that would make a difference. Reigen was a talker, he thrived on conversation and simple human interaction. The short time he’s been on his own has been a nightmare with no one to talk to, and talking to himself only got him so far. Now, he was stuck with someone—someone who could talk, but was deliberately choosing not to. That would only drive Reigen up the wall. Being alone was one thing, but having someone who refused to speak to him? That was a whole other headache.

He grumbled softly as he slowly pushed himself to his feet. He knew he shouldn’t move, but he needed to stretch at least. Another long night on an incredibly uncomfortable floor was not ideal. Though he figured he should be used to this by now. 

He threw his arms in the air and stretched his muscles until he could hear a sickening pop in his back. He was also getting too old to lie on the floor like that. He let his eyes wander again and decided to explore the room a bit. Maybe he could find more info on this kid since he didn’t exactly feel like sharing. 

So far, Reigen had gathered that the kid was alone. He hadn’t seen anyone else around, and there were no signs of anyone else living in this area either. With every passing minute, he felt his sympathy for the kid growing. He knows what it's like to be alone, and for a kid to have to go through this… It started to weigh heavily on his mind. 

He first checked near the windows, limping over slowly. Sitting on the floor near the busted frames and broken glass were gallon jugs that had been crudely cut in half, with sharp plastic edges and uneven lines. There were four in total, all empty except for one, which had a very small amount of water in it. He assumed they were meant for catching rainwater. 

With not much else to see, he moved on, eyeing the walls, the piles of debris, anything for clues. He then noticed the backpack that sat along the wall, the one that the boy had drawn matches from the night before. Reigen recalled the kid not having a backpack when he first saw him. He must like to travel light. No point in bringing it everywhere if he was always going to come back to this place. 

Reigen didn’t like snooping, but boredom had gotten the best of him, and the kid gave him nothing to work with. He glanced around, making sure the boy wasn’t back and about to pop out before kneeling near the old bag. It was black and looked like a travel backpack that people usually brought on trains or planes. 

He steadily unzipped it, as if worried it would be too loud and he’d be caught red-handed snooping. He glanced over his shoulder once before looking into the bag. 

The first thing he saw inside was a blanket. He recalled seeing the kid use it last night. He had woken up in the middle of the night to see the kid in the far corner of the room, curled up under the thin blanket and shaking like a leaf. The night had been chilly, but not horribly so in Reigen’s opinion. However, the kid was much smaller than Reigen, he most likely got cold more easily. 

The blanket itself was old and ragged. It was a faded navy blue with holes, loose threads, and frayed ends. He pulled the fabric aside and soon found the matches, a few band-aids, a flashlight that didn’t work anymore, an old toothbrush, and not much else. There was no food, no extra clothes, especially warmer ones, or survival tools like knives. Like the kid’s fire, his bag was pathetic. 

Reigen sighed, shaking his head. This kid has been alone for who knows how long, but he seemed to be no expert on survival. He most likely had no one to teach him and had to learn on his own. 

As he was about to zip the bag up, he noticed something thin poking out of an inside pocket. He carefully pinched it between his fingers and pulled it out. It was a photograph. He examined it closely, taking in every detail. 

It was a photo of four people—two adults and two kids. Reigen immediately recognized one of the kids as the boy who saved him. He had the same haircut and appeared much younger in the photo. He had a very small and soft smile on his face, a stark contrast to the other boy next to him, who had a wider grin. He looked similar to the boy, but his hair was more untamed and wild. 

Behind them were two adults who Reigen assumed were the parents. They were smiling as well, though they looked a bit tired, which made sense if they were raising two boys. But through their tired eyes, he could see care and patience. Each parent rested a gentle and loving hand on their sons. A family photo… Seeing that the kid was all alone, Reigen could only assume the worst. 

He exhaled softly through his nose before gently putting the photo back exactly how he found it, closing the bag, and leaning it back against the wall. He didn’t want to linger on this sad thought for long, so he decided to try to put it out of his mind and continue his search. He straightened up on his legs again, wincing at the slight pain in his ankle, before going back to exploring the area. 

He wasn’t having much luck finding anything else. The room was large, maybe a few thousand square feet if he had to guess, but there wasn’t much to it. However, after peeking behind a few of the concrete pillars, he finally found something behind one of them. It looked to be an old rag that was covering five cans of food. Not the best hiding spot… Well, at least the kid had something and wasn’t going hungry. Still, he seemed too small and skinny. 

Reigen once again crouched low to the floor to examine the items, carefully snatching one of them. Three of the tins seemed to be canned vegetables. Not even mixed vegetables, just one veggie in each can. How bland and boring, but it was something at least. 

As he set down a can of diced carrots, something colorful caught his eye on one of the cans in the back. The label seemed more vibrant than the vegetable cans. He gently pushed the other aside and picked up the can with a bright red label. The label revealed something unappetizing—lumpy brown chunks coated in a slimy, gelatinous sauce. Next to it, a very happy-looking shiba inu. Dog food… 

Reigen let out an airy chuckle of disbelief. He didn’t find the situation funny, not at all. He just couldn’t grasp it. The thought of this kid, sitting alone everyday, eating fucking dog food, it was too much. He’s just a damn kid! 

Reigen’s throat felt dry, each swallow was like scraping sandpaper. The label started to appear blurry, and his hand began to shake. Oh… Tears were pricking his eyes. 

The more Reigen found and the more he learned, the tighter an uncomfortable knot in his chest became. At first, he felt a small bit of sympathy for the kid, but it quickly grew into something heavier. Not only did he feel this weight in his thoughts, but deep in the pit of his stomach as well. No kid deserves to go through anything like this. 

He sniffled softly and put the can back, throwing the rag bag over the others again. He’s had enough snooping, it only brought sorrow to his mind. He stood up and slowly turned away from the cans. After several slow, depressing steps, he heard a shuffle and nearly jumped out of his skin. 

A quick turn revealed the kid re-entering the building, a small plastic bag in his hand, like he had just gotten back from a convenience store run. The boy stopped when his eyes landed on Reigen, and they stared at each other for a moment in awkward silence. Not only that, but the kid was breathing somewhat heavily, like he had just run a marathon. 

The kid shifted a bit, glancing at Reigen’s ankle before looking back up at him. “You shouldn’t be up…” 

Reigen stood there in stunned silence, he didn’t think the kid would speak first. His mind was still whirling from all that he found. “Uh, sorry…” He chuckled uncomfortably before hobbling back over to his original spot on the floor. 

As he settled back in, the kid gingerly approached, pulling a small bottle out of the bag. “This was all I could find. I apologize,” his voice still had that soft, monotone quality as last night. 

Did this kid really go to an old store and still have the dignity to put his items in the bag like it was a normal day? Reigen briefly wondered if he had left money on the counter too. This kid seemed strange. 

Reigen glanced at the bottle in the kid’s hand. It was a small bottle of mild pain relievers, the tiny kind that had maybe twenty-four pills in the whole bottle. Reigen’s eyes shot up to the kid’s face, then back to the pill bottle before he gently took it. 

The teenager then moved over to the window as Reigen examined the bottle. 

“What about that medicine you took from Claw yesterday?” he asked skeptically. 

The boy seemed to pause for a second before grabbing one of the jugs resting near the window. Presumably, the one that had a bit of water in it. “I gave it back,” he muttered softly. 

Reigen looked at him questioningly, the bottle lightly rattling in his hand. “Gave it back to Claw?” 

The boy shook his head, heading over with the jug. “No, I gave it back to the people they stole it from.” 

Once again, Reigen was stunned into silence. This kid… This damn kid. That’s why he no longer had the bag when Reigen first saw him. Claw had said the kid had been stealing from them for a while, but now it was clear he hadn’t been taking the supplies for himself. He’d been stealing them back, returning them to the people Claw had taken from in the first place. 

They mentioned they had multiple groups out at once, likely stealing all kinds of supplies. This could include food. Which meant this kid had chosen to return something he desperately needed and settled for the bare minimum instead. It was an act of quiet defiance, and an unbelievably selfless one at that. This kid didn’t like Claw just as much as they didn’t like him. 

The kid gently shoved the jug of water in Reigen’s direction, snapping him from his thoughts. As he eyed the jug, he noticed that the kid’s hands seemed to be shaking ever so slightly, the little bit of water sloshing lightly in the container. He figured it was from the cold. His own hand shot up, ready to shove it back. There was only enough left for maybe two swigs, and that was it. 

“I’m not taking your water, kid.” Reigen kept his hand up, ready to refuse again if the kid kept insisting. To which he, of course, did. 

“You’ll need it to take the medicine,” he spoke softly, a faint look of confusion on his face. He almost seemed offended that Reigen didn’t accept the water. 

“I’m fine, I can take ‘em dry. Not the end of the world.” He gave the kid a patient smile, but the boy just stared at him with that same blank and unimpressed expression. After a few seconds of awkward silence, which this kid was quite good at, he shoved the jug toward Reigen again. 

“I told you no,” Reigen huffed, getting a little annoyed. To his surprise, he wasn’t the only one. It didn’t last long, and if he had blinked, he definitely would have missed it, but for a split second, irritation appeared ever so subtly on the kid’s face before it went back to being plain and neutral. 

In the end, the kid simply set the jug beside Reigen and walked away. He really was selfless, insisting that this stranger take the only bit of water he had left. Reigen then gave in and took the medicine with the water, but he only settled on a small sip. 

------

The late autumn evening rolled around quickly, the sky darkening early, and the chilly wind swept through the streets. Reigen sat back, his hands flat on the cold floor, supporting him, as he watched the tiny flames dance about. The kid had built yet another pathetic fire. 

On the other side of the fire, the kid sat with his knees hugged close to his chest, also watching the flames. After their brief conversation earlier, the kid had gone silent once again. Reigen tried not to let it bother him; at least he got a short conversation. Still, he couldn’t help but wish the kid would open up a little more. So far, everything he’d learned had come from snooping. He didn’t even know the kid’s name. Reigen wasn’t even sure if it was boredom gnawing at him at this point, but the possibility of something else.

The small fire was already starting to die down, but the kid wasn’t doing much about it. He just sat there and watched, almost like he was zoning out, shivering a bit. Was this like a nightly routine for the kid? Build a small, pathetic fire, let it fizzle out, then shiver in the dark? Reigen let out a quiet sigh and glanced at one of the debris piles nearby. With his mind made up, he slowly and carefully got to his feet, being mindful of his ankle. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the boy tense, his gaze locking onto the firearm tucked into Reigen’s back pocket. The man pretended not to notice, hobbling over to the nearby pile and grabbing a few old wooden planks. He roughly snapped a couple over his knee, which probably wasn’t a good idea considering his bad ankle, but he managed. 

As he sat back near the fire, he stuck a couple of large wood pieces into it, arranging them neatly, but purposefully. After some adjusting, the flames started to grow again. The boy continued to watch the whole time, looking somewhat interested. 

Reigen caught his eye and offered the boy a patient smile, then turned his attention back to the fire. “You’ve got the right idea, but there’s too much tinder, and not enough kindling and wood.” He glanced over and noticed he still had the boy’s attention, so he continued. 

“Tinder is essential for starting a fire; it catches easily, but it burns fast,” he explained gently. “These small sticks help, but won’t keep it going for long. You need larger pieces, like these planks. They’ll sustain the fire, but don’t overdo it. Too much at once, or something too big, and you’ll smother the flames. Got it?”

When Reigen looked back at the kid, he saw him staring in quiet awe. The boy remained silent, but Reigen could tell he was grateful for this newly learned information. Reigen just wondered how the kid had lasted this long without knowing any of this. He just wanted to pass on his knowledge of better fire etiquette in hopes the kid would take better care of himself. 

Now that he seemed to have the kid’s attention, an idea started to form in his head. He wanted to try another conversation with him. He decided to try a different approach. Instead of asking deep personal questions like, What’s your name? How long have you been alone? What happened to your family? He wanted to try some easy, casual ones, hoping to get the kid to talk without feeling pressure. 

A small smile came to his face, and he breathed out a light chuckle. This immediately pulled the kid’s gaze back towards him. “So… Is there anything you don’t miss?” he asked casually. 

The kid eyed him, remaining silent. It was hard to tell; he had a very blank face, but Reigen could see the slight furrow of his brow beneath his bangs. Maybe he didn’t quite understand the question. 

“For me, I don’t miss the long lines… Oh, and paying rent. One scary thing that nearly rivals the monsters was not knowing if you’d have enough money for rent,” he chuckled again, keeping his tone and body language loose and relaxed. “So, what about you? Anything you don’t miss?” 

The boy’s eyes lingered on him for a moment, but he didn’t speak up. Eventually, he turned his gaze back to the fire, and Reigen sighed. He was starting to think this was a lost cause. He clearly wasn’t going to get anywhere. Why did he still bother? 

“Uhm…” Reigen’s gaze immediately returned to the kid when he heard the soft voice speak up. “Homework… and math.” 

He felt a smile return to his face. “I don’t blame you. I was never great at math either.” 

The kid nodded, and an awkward silence settled between them again. Not wanting it to linger, Reigen spoke up once more. “What about food? I really miss Takoyaki. Do you miss anything?” 

It felt a bit repetitive, always ending with a question like that, but it was intentional. It was more to pull the kid into the conversation. A friendly invitation of sorts. Reigen felt that if he just said something about himself and didn’t ask the kid in return, he might just stop talking, and the conversation would just stall out completely. It was more than just small talk, it was a strategy to get the boy to speak up and feel more comfortable around Reigen. 

This time, the answer came a bit quicker. “Hm… Ramen and milk.” Reigen understood ramen. He missed the dish as well, but milk was an interesting choice. 

“Ya know, sometimes you can still find some instant ramen that’s still good and not completely destroyed. You just gotta look hard enough.” Another helpful tip for the kid. Reigen was hoping this advice would encourage the boy to look harder for his food, and not settle for nasty ass dog food mystery meat. He wanted to vomit at the thought of having to eat something so disgusting. 

He’d move on in a few days, and it would make him feel better knowing he had set this kid up for success. He’d provide the kid with whatever info he could before leaving. Still… he found himself wanting to know more. There was something about this strange, silent kid that stuck with him. He’d keep up with the conversations, and maybe he’d eventually learn more about him. 

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the kid coughing. It didn’t last long, as he seemed to try to cover it up. Reigen let out a puff of air and lay back on the floor. “I hate when the smoke gets in my face,” he muttered, looking up at the ceiling. “I used to smoke, ya know.” 

His eyes drifted over, and he noticed the kid watching him again. Though the boy didn’t say much, he made it clear he was listening. Reigen figured he was more of a listener than a talker. So, he continued. 

“Before everything happened, I smoked a lot. At home, at work, everywhere. I wanted to try and quit, but it just never really happened.” He laid his arm across his forehead, remembering his multitude of ashtrays littered with cigarette butts, the way the smoke hung in the air and clung to his clothes and walls. How irritable he would get when he didn’t get that nicotine fix he so desperately craved. 

“What happened?” The boy asked softly, and Reigen realized he had fallen silent. 

He looked back at the kid and gave him a half-hearted shrug. “Well… When everything started, my bad habit only got worse. I would snag cigarettes often when I could. I figured there was a good chance I was going to die anyway, so why was smoking so bad?” 

He let his eyes drift back up to the ceiling, taking a deep breath. “Then, one day, while looking for supplies in a small store, something changed my mind. I was about to snag another carton of cigarettes when a monster came out of nowhere. I was alone and had no one to help me as this thing cornered me. I was terrified.” 

He swallowed hard, still remembering the beast. It was the size of a large dog, and its bony tail was twice as long as its body, curling upwards like a scorpion’s. It had cornered Reigen at the back of the store. The carton of smokes he grabbed was crushed tightly in his grip as he shook violently. 

“As I looked into the monster’s eyes, I realized I didn’t want to die… So I grabbed my weapon and desperately fought for my life. That’s how I learned the decapitation trick, which you seem to know as well.” 

He looked towards the kid, who stared back for a moment before shifting his gaze to the growing fire. It was so warm, the quiet crackle of burning wood slowly filled the silence. 

“Anyway, I never went back after that. I haven’t touched a cigarette since then,” his voice was soft. He was grateful for this decision in his life. Letting go of that habit had felt like letting go of a version of himself he didn’t want to be anymore. A bored, selfish, and lousy conman. He felt like he could do more, like he wasn’t being held down by smoke and tar. Like he could become someone better. He wanted to be a person someone could depend on. All it took was an apocalyptic disaster. Better late than never, right? 

But on the topic of life, it brought Reigen to his next question. “Kid… Why did you save me?” 

The boy did not answer right away and seemed to shift uneasily, so Reigen pressed on. “You saw me with Claw, and it seems like you really don’t like them. So why?” 

The kid pursed his lips. It looked as if he was trying to get his thoughts together before answering. Riegen didn’t mind. He could be patient, as long as he got an answer. 

“I… I hadn’t seen you before. You were new. And when I saw you on the street with them, you seemed…” the boy trailed off. It seemed as though he saw that Reigen was upset about what happened earlier that day, but he couldn’t quite place the emotion, or maybe there were just too many to choose from. Riegen didn’t blame him, he was sure the look on his face had a healthy mix of anger, annoyance, fear, shame, and sadness. 

“Still, thank you for doing that.” Reigen’s tone was warm and appreciative as he let his gaze fall away and slowly closed his eyes.

“Mob.” 

His eyes snapped open, and his focus was immediately back on the kid. “I’m sorry?” 

The boy hunched in on himself just a little more. “I… Y-You can call me Mob.” 

Reigen blinked, letting the name roll around in his mind. It clearly wasn’t the kid’s actual name, but some kind of nickname. Still, he finally had something to call the kid. After a day, he finally got a name out of him. 

“Mob,” Reigen repeated, as if testing the name out. In a way, it suited him. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

------

After a couple more days, Reigen’s ankle was starting to feel marginally better. It wasn’t as good as new, but at least he could walk again. The moment he was back on his feet, Mob began gently urging him to move on, which Reigen agreed to. It was strange, though. Part of him couldn’t shake the feeling that the kid was trying to rush him out. 

Even after that night by the fire, their conversations remained minuscule and lacking. Reigen was only able to learn a couple more key points about the kid. He learned that Mob was fourteen years old, completely alone, and had been on his own since the first few weeks of the apocalypse. Unfortunately, anything about his past or his family was never brought up, but Reigen didn’t push it. 

Still, as Reigen packed up and threw his bag over his shoulder, he felt something he couldn’t quite place deep in the pit of his stomach. Call it intuition or a gut feeling, but Reigen felt like he should not be leaving the kid. Mob insisted he was fine, but something felt… wrong. 

Reigen convinced himself that it was just because Mob was a kid and it felt wrong leaving a child alone in the world like this, but Mob wanted to be alone… Insisted upon it. 

They gave each other goodbyes and told each other to stay safe, but Reigen could not shake the bad feeling he was getting. As he walked out of the building, a heavy sigh passed his lips. It’s fine. He’ll be fine. He told himself. 

The conman hiked his backpack up further on his shoulder and began walking. He tried to distract himself from the weight of leaving the kid by focusing on where to go next. The city was starting to get old and feel pointless. Maybe it was finally time to move on. Start fresh somewhere else. 

He paused a moment and turned, glancing back, the building was still in sight. The thought of leaving the kid behind still didn’t sit right with him. Maybe he should at least try to invite Mob along. It was worth a shot. No kid should be all alone in this. 

He groaned, tossing his head back in frustration. He was taking too long to decide and turned around instead. As he approached the building again, he suddenly stopped, frozen in his tracks. He got that strange feeling again, like something wasn’t right. That’s when he heard it, a sound that nearly made his heart sink. He rushed back into the building, the sound grew louder with each step as the man drew closer. Coughing… Not a casual cough either, a choking, wheezing cough. 

Reigen slowly and cautiously strode across the main room. The kid was on his knees facing the wall where his backpack sat, coughing violently into his hand. When it died down, he took in a shaky breath and pulled his trembling hand away. 

“You’re sick…” Reigen muttered, but it was loud enough to catch the kid’s attention. 

Mob turned his head quickly, a startled look flashing across his face, wide-eyed and tense, like he’d just been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. 

“You’re really sick…” It all made sense now. The constant shivering, the breathlessness, the shaking hands, and the small coughs he heard by the fire, which he assumed were from the smoke. He wondered how long the kid had been holding this in. 

The boy dropped his head and shoulders, shame clear in his posture. It was clear he didn’t want Reigen to know. 

He clenched his jaw; this whole situation was a mess. It wasn't his plan to stay here, he hadn’t planned on getting involved like this. But how could he just walk away now? The kid needed more than a few kind words and fire-starting tips. He needed help. Real help. And no matter how much Reigen told himself it wasn’t his responsibility, that nagging weight in his chest said otherwise. He definitely wasn't leaving the kid now. 

He had wished the kid well, wished him safety, but at this rate, the kid wouldn’t even survive through the winter…

Chapter Text

Whatever sickness Mob had caught ended up hitting the poor kid like a truck, or more like a freight train. Within a few days, he was completely down for the count. Reduced to a small, fragile child, curled up on the floor, weak and suffering. 

The day Reigen found out, after nearly leaving the kid alone again, was only the beginning. Though he was sure Mob started feeling the symptoms days before, maybe even the day they met, but the kid was keeping to himself. Reigen had a good guess as to why. Mob didn’t want to be a burden. He didn’t want to drag the man down with him. But Reigen didn’t want to worry about that fact or let it weigh on his mind. There were more important things to worry about. 

It started with shivers and tremors, which Reigen observed on day one of meeting the kid. He ignorantly chalked it up to the cold weather, but now knew it was much more than that. It then evolved into small coughs, which only got worse with time. 

Once Reigen returned after getting that bad feeling deep in his gut, he didn’t hesitate, swiftly marching towards Mob. The boy quickly shot up to his feet and took a step back, holding his arms out defensively, but it wasn’t that he was scared of Reigen; it was something more fragile and uncertain. This caused the man to freeze mid-step, as Mob watched him with wary eyes. 

“Please,” he spoke in that usual soft and blank tone, even though his body was stiff and on edge. “You need to move on.” 

Reigen silently watched the boy from a few feet away. Mob still hung his head low, his shoulders were tense, and his raised hands trembled just a bit; it was impossible for Reigen to ignore. He wasn’t having this. 

When he first met the kid, he felt slight fear and unease, but over the past few days, Reigen started to see past that. Mob wasn’t just some quiet, powerful mystery that stole supplies and killed monsters. He was just a kid, a kid carrying more than he should. Seeing him like this now was like a punch to the gut. It hit Reigen harder than he expected it would. 

That’s just how the world was now, how things felt now. When monsters surround you, and every day is a constant battle for survival, something shifts. People realize just how important a human connection is. Walls tear down easily, strangers are no longer strangers. In the end, all humans share something in common. That same fragile thread of existence. The fact that they’re all just humans trying to survive. He had only known the boy a few days, but it wasn’t like he wanted Mob to suffer. 

Mob has been alone for so long. Far too long from what he has told Reigen. No one to help him, no one to rely on. But that isn’t going to happen again. Mob wasn’t going to face this alone, not if Reigen had anything to say about it. The kid could try to push him away and fall silent all he wanted, but he wasn’t going to get rid of the man that easily. 

“Mob, sit down,” he gently commanded. 

The boy finally glanced up at him before weakly shaking his head. He opened his mouth, ready to argue again and tell Reigen to leave, but the man quickly cut him off. 

“Sit down.” His voice was calm, but held a hint of sternness that made it clear he wasn’t asking. Reigen briefly wondered if arguing with an esper like this was wise. Especially one that goes around tearing monsters’ heads off. But Mob didn’t seem like the type to lash out, not yet at least. Right now, he just looked like a scared and sick kid. Reigen was still kicking himself for not noticing it earlier. 

After several silent and painful seconds, Mob finally listened, letting himself gently sink back to the floor, his movements careful and slow. “You shouldn’t stay here,” he whispered. “You should go.” It was a weak, final attempt to push the man away. 

Reigen breathed harshly through his nose. No. Not happening. “Nice try, kid,” he said, taking a step closer. He had already made his decision. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

Mob didn’t respond; he kept his gaze on the grey and dusty floor between them, his eyes almost glassy and distant. Reigen didn’t speak either. Instead, he got to work immediately, putting together a fire for them. Mob watched silently, though he still seemed distant, curling in on himself. Reigen was just glad he was paying attention, even just a little. Sick or not, he still needed to learn, and Reigen was happy to teach. 

As he shuffled through sticks and wood, he let his mind begin to wander. Reigen silently hoped this illness was just a cold, something they could fuss over for a few days, then Mob would hopefully be back on his feet. 

Reigen took a quiet, grounding breath, then turned his eyes toward Mob. “Toss me the matches?” he requested, holding his hands out, ready for a catch. 

Mob perked up slightly, lifting his head a little as a flicker of presence returned to his eyes.  He silently reached into his backpack, fingers feeling around until they clasped around the small matchbox. He then gently tossed it to Reigen, and the man easily caught it, giving him a small nod in thanks. He quickly lit up a match and started the fire. 

The fire caught slowly, crackling to life as Reigen sat back. The two sat in silence, and it was then that Reigen finally noticed Mob’s uneven and somewhat shallow breaths. He bit the inside of his cheek and shook his head. He couldn’t take it. 

“I should have noticed,” he eventually said, hardly looking at the kid. “I mean… It was obvious, right in front of me, and I didn’t see it.” 

Mob didn’t say anything in response or even glance Reigen’s way. His eyes remained on the flames, the fire setting a gentle light on his tired eyes. Deep down, though, he felt guilt gnawing at him. He didn’t want Reigen to blame himself. The man didn’t see it, because Mob didn’t want him to see it. 

“I’m sorry,” Reigen muttered. 

Mob still remained silent, but his tense body finally loosened up just a bit. His dark eyes flicked toward Reigen. Mob’s face was unreadable, but in that moment, Reigen could tell exactly what the kid was thinking. 

This isn’t your responsibility. 

This isn’t your problem. 

Throughout the rest of the day, Mob would keep insisting that Reigen move on, but the man would either ignore him or flat out say no. And every time he did, Mob would fall silent again. He never argued back. He never raised his voice. He’d just go quiet, pull his knees in a little tighter, and let the words die on his tongue. However, Mob would always try again later. 

------

By day two, the kid’s health took a nose dive. He sat near another fire, built by Reigen, trying desperately to keep warm, but it was like the fire’s warmth didn’t even reach him. His face was flushed, and his body shook. Reigen knew Mob had a fever just by looking at him, and a bad one. Reigen would feel his head, but he felt like that was crossing a line. They had only known each other for about five days. Only had a handful of conversations and shared silence around the fire. To make matters worse, Mob’s meager supply of water had already run dry the day before. 

Luckily, a light rain had started not too long ago. Reigen listened to the gentle patter near the broken windows. He had set up their empty water jugs nearby, hoping they’d catch enough. Mob was going to need water, lots of water. 

The dreary weather caused a chill to creep into the building. Even Reigen could feel it, but it was worse for Mob as he continued to shiver, chilled to the bone. His thin blanket was draped over his shoulders, but didn’t provide much warmth. 

Reigen didn’t hesitate. He couldn’t watch the poor kid shiver helplessly anymore. He quickly dug into his bag and pulled out his own blanket. It was thicker, better designed to keep heat in than the dingy excuse of a blanket Mob clung to. He approached the boy slowly, not wanting to startle him, before draping the blanket over him. 

Mob blinked up at Reigen, his eyes subtly widened with confusion, but Reigen continued on like it was no big deal, returning to his spot next to the fire. 

The kid slowly reached up and let his fingers run over the soft fabric, gently pinching it between them. He opened his mouth, but closed it again. Silence lingered for a few more minutes, filled only by the crackle of the fire and the gentle patter of rain, before Mob finally found his voice. 

“You don’t have to do this…” he muttered, his words almost swallowed by the surrounding noise. 

“I want to,” Reigen said simply, poking and prodding at the growing fire, and adjusting a piece of wood into place. 

“But… why?” There was genuine confusion in his fragile voice; his eyes remained on the blanket, his fingers still gently curled around the fabric, not wanting to look at Reigen. 

Reigen sat back, setting his fire poking stick aside with a soft clatter. He thought the answer was simple and obvious, but he still took his time to reply. 

“Think of it as thanks,” he finally said with a light shrug. He didn’t spell it out. He didn’t think he needed to. 

Mob finally glanced his way. He didn’t quite get what the man meant, and Reigen could see the subtle way he tried to process the response. He hadn’t really done much, had he? “I don’t understand.” 

Reigen gave the boy a sad smile. “You helped me back in the alley. Now I want to help you.” 

Mob still looked like he didn’t quite get it, and Reigen was starting to wonder what was so confusing. The boy stared at him, it was as if he was searching for something in Reigen’s expression or tone. Eventually, he looked back down at the blanket, fingers tightening slightly. “You don’t know me…” 

Reigen was a bit surprised by that, but did his best not to show it. “Does that matter?” he asked.

“You don’t—” Mob suddenly cut himself off and fell silent. Great. Reigen was hoping the kid wouldn’t go quiet again. He put in so much effort just to get him to talk this much, but it seemed like Mob was retreating again, ready to close himself off once more. 

Mob shivered and pulled the blankets tighter around himself, making him look even smaller than he already was. He let out a tired and sad sigh as he gently eased himself down to the floor, resting his cheek against his arm, his eyes never leaving the fire. Just like yesterday, his eyes began to seem distant, unfocused. The silence stretched on, Mob letting out a few violent coughs in between, his whole body shaking with them. Reigen winced at the sound and could only watch the boy sadly, feeling his heart twist in his chest. 

He tore his eyes away for a second, just to take a quick look at the water jugs. Rain was slowly filling them, droplets gently trickling down into the containers, but they still had a long way to go. 

“You should eat something,” he told the kid as he turned back to him. 

Mob didn’t reply or even glance at him. He just slowly and robotically shook his head after a moment. 

“Come on, kid. You have to at least try ,” Reigen said, once again making his tone a bit firm. “You haven’t eaten since yesterday.” Unfortunately, they were nearly out of food as well, and Reigen was not giving Mob the damn dog food. He was going to have to make a run at some point, hopefully scavenge what he could from nearby stores, but he didn’t feel good about leaving the kid, even if it was just for a little while. 

Mob still didn’t answer, and Reigen wanted to smack his palm against his forehead. Seriously? They were back to this now? He desperately did not want to slide back into the silence from the other day. He did his best to bite back his growing frustration, which would only make things worse. 

Reigen turned to the fire with a long, tired sigh. “My mom used to make me soup when I was sick. I wish I could do the same for you. I’m sorry…” Reigen had never taken care of a sick person before, and he was starting to feel like he was failing at the task. He sort of felt out of his depth. Even if this wasn’t the apocalypse, he probably still would have sucked at it. 

“Do you miss them?” a small voice suddenly asked. 

Reigen looked at the kid, but Mob still had his eyes elsewhere, curled up by the fire. Still, Reigen felt something shift in his chest, this was the first time Mob was asking more about him. In all honesty, all Reigen could do was shrug. “I mean… Yeah, of course. Who wouldn’t?” His voice softened a bit, honestly seeping through. “Just… Wherever they are, I hope things are better.” 

The boy’s eyes finally shifted to Reigen. “You don’t know?” 

“I didn’t have the best relationship with my family,” he admitted. “Even before all this, I hadn’t seen or spoken to them in a couple of years. So, I don’t know where they are or how they’re doing. They could still be out there, or…” he fell quiet after that. Not finishing the thought. Mob didn’t ask him to continue either, he knew what the man was saying, or rather, not saying. 

After a few moments of silence, Mob spoke up. “I’m sorry… I…” He bit his lip and his face tightened ever so slightly, making him look deeply troubled for a faint moment. He gently pulled the blanket closer, covering his nose and mouth so only his eyes were peeking out from behind the fabric, like he was trying to hide himself. 

“My–My family is gone…” His voice was muffled, but Reigen heard him clearly. “They–” 

“Hey,” Reigen cut him off, but was soft and gentle about it. The last thing he wanted was for Mob to relive a painful memory if he didn’t want to. Still, after days of trying to get info out of the kid, Mob suddenly felt like sharing. He was finally talking a bit more about himself. It should be a good thing, right? But strangely, it didn’t feel like it. It gave Reigen a bad feeling… A sense of dread that he couldn’t quite place. 

That wasn’t the end, though. Mob wasn’t done sharing. “Not long after that, I killed my first monster.” 

Reigen swallowed, his eyes locked onto the boy. “How did you do it?” he asked, barely above a whisper. There was no way Mob instantly knew how to kill the thing, so Reigen was curious about the method. 

Mob’s eyes suddenly looked more dead than usual, his voice low and cold. “I tore it apart…” 

The words struck like ice water as silence fell over them once again. Reigen didn’t ask any more questions. 

------

By the third day, Mob had only gotten worse. He shivered almost constantly, his frail body wracked with chills and deep aches and pains. Reigen could hardly get the kid to eat, but they were also on their last can of food. Unfortunately, even if he was successful in getting a few bites of food into Mob, he couldn’t keep much down. The coughing became more violent, shaking his weak and small frame to the core. Each fit left him breathless, almost gasping for air. His chest rattled with every breath, like something deep inside him was broken. The sound of it nearly made Reigen's skin crawl. Sometimes, Mob would let out these awful sounds. Tiny groans and pathetic whimpers in between his coughing fits, like he was trying not to cry from how bad it hurt. 

And Reigen couldn’t do a damn thing except sit there and watch it happen. He hated it. Hated how useless he felt, like he couldn’t do anything at all. But he was determined. He was going to make Mob better. He had to… 

Each day, Mob looked less like the powerful esper Reigen first met and more like a scared, sick child. 

This wasn’t a regular cold…

It felt much worse… 

It was something else, something Reigen wasn’t sure he could figure out. All he knew was that Mob was suffering.

The boy lay flat on his back, his head resting on his bag and his breaths quick and shallow, his body shaking violently. His half-lidded eyes stared at the ceiling, but they were almost glazed over, unseeing. He was pale before, but now he was almost ghost white, though his cheeks were still flushed and warm. Fevered sweat clung to his skin and his bangs, clumping his dirty hair together even more. He stopped arguing with Reigen about leaving after the second day, having no strength left. 

Reigen sat beside him, wringing out the old rag Mob had used to hide his food, and gently placed it on the kid’s burning forehead. Mob didn’t even flinch or twitch. He just continued to stare, like he wasn’t all there. 

Reigen glanced at the jug of water next to him. They were already almost completely out. He had been using most of it to keep Mob hydrated as well as keep him cool, to hopefully reduce the fever. But they need more. Not only that, they need food, Mob needs medicine, something! 

He gritted his teeth, forcing down his racing thoughts and his rising panic. He needed to stay calm and be there for the kid, but his throat felt tight. He was just a kid… He looked so small and broken lying there.  

He quickly learned Mob was the selfless type, but damn he wished the kid held onto that medicine. What hurt more was the fact that Mob knew he was getting sick, and still returned the supplies. It was noble and good, but now, it was also a little foolish. 

Reigen glanced out the window. He had some daylight left. If he left now, maybe he could…

“Reigen…” A small voice pulled him back. 

“Right here, kid,” he whispered gently, immediately turning back to Mob. 

“It’s okay…” Mob murmured, his voice hoarse from the days of painful coughing. “You should go. You need to move on.” 

“Not this again, kid.” Reigen shook his head defiantly. “I told you, I’m not going anywhere.” 

Mob’s eyes continued to stare upwards, but soon, hot, stinging tears began to fill them and slip down his temples. His breath hitched as he finally spoke. “I didn’t want to burden you with this…” he whispered, his weak voice cracking and breaking apart. 

Reigen could hardly believe what he was seeing. It was the first real emotion Reigen had seen from the kid, other than a split second of mild confusion. It was real, raw emotion. Until now, Mob barely showed emotion at all. His expression was always blank, his voice was always flat. But now, something was cracking open. There was clear sadness and shame in his features, like he was too weak to keep himself together. A fearful kid too weak to keep pretending he was okay. 

Mob slowly turned his head in Reigen’s direction, but his eyes still looked past him, like he wasn’t really seeing him. They seemed distant and unfocused. He opened his mouth to speak, only for more painful coughs to rattle his body. He winced in pain with each movement. Every muscle in his body ached, and each cough felt like a knife to his chest. 

Reigen wanted to reach out; he desperately wanted to, but kept himself from doing so. Mob swallowed thickly, and even that looked painful. Reigen immediately reached for the water jug and was about to tilt it towards the boy’s lips, only for Mob to turn his head away. 

“Mob,” his voice came out breathy and tired. “You need to drink.” 

The boy weakly shook his head. Mob had already started refusing food, now he was refusing water. This wasn’t good at all. 

Reigen’s grip on the jug tightened. “Mob.” He sounded a bit more stern this time, but his voice was still laced with worry. 

“It’s okay, Reigen,” he whispered again. “You should just leave. I deserve this.” 

Reigen blinked in confusion, feeling like he had just been punched in the gut. Now the kid wasn’t making sense. What exactly does he mean by that? 

“W-What?” He couldn’t keep the tremor from his voice. 

“I deserve this fate. I deserve to suffer like this.” He said it as if it were a known fact. It was meant to be. Something he’d already accepted. 

“What are you talking about?” Reigen asked, starting to feel sick in his own way. His chest tightened, and his stomach twisted. 

The boy turned his way but again could not focus on Reigen. He looked almost delusional from the fever. Maybe that’s what this was… He hoped that’s what this was. That Mob didn’t really think he deserved this. 

“Reigen, this is all my fault…” He was trying so hard to look the man in the eye, but was failing to do so.

“Kid, I-I don’t… You’re not making sense.” Reigen’s heart was pounding painfully in his chest. Mob barely reacted to his words. 

“The world is in ruin because of me. People are dead because of me. My family is gone… because of me.” His gaze slowly drifted back to the ceiling as his eyes once again filled with tears. “I deserve this,” he mumbled as they spilled over, silent tears tracing down the side of his face, leaving streaks in the dirt. 

“W-What do you mean?” Reigen managed to ask, though he felt like all the air had left his lungs. He was almost afraid of the answer. 

“I brought the monsters here.” There it was… His voice was barely a whisper, but Reigen heard it as clear as day. 

Reigen swallowed hard, it felt like his heart was in a chokehold. Mob, in a state of weakness, fully convinced he was going to die, was lying there giving Reigen a fucking death bed confession. Reigen tried to speak, to say something , but no words would come out. It felt like his throat had just closed up. 

Still, he couldn’t fully wrap his head around what the boy was telling him. He brought the monsters…? How? Mob had to have been what, ten, when everything went to hell? How the hell does a ten-year-old unleash monsters onto the world? It didn’t make any goddamn sense. Not to Reigen, anyway. This fever was quite literally frying Mob’s brain. He had to be delusional from it. That was the only explanation. Or maybe Reigen just didn’t want to believe it. 

Mob continued. “I just… I wish I could see them one more time.” He blinked slowly, more tears spilling over. “I can only hope that, where I end up, they’re there too…” He paused, swallowing painfully yet again. “But I don’t deserve that.” 

“Stop,” Reigen breathed, his voice nearly breaking. He started to feel like his own tears were about to spill over. He wasn’t sure he could take much more of this. 

“I miss them.” 

Mob’s words from last night rang through Reigen’s. 

“Do you miss them?” 

“Yeah, of course. Who wouldn’t?” 

Reigen tried to push down the emotional itch in his throat and steel himself. He couldn’t let the kid bring himself down like this. Reigen wanted to help this kid, but he couldn’t do it alone. He needed Mob to fight. But it sounded like the kid was already letting go… Hopelessness was taking over. He was giving up. Reigen couldn’t let that happen. 

“You can’t give up, kid,” Reigen finally said, trying to keep his voice firm and unwavering. “Not like this.” 

Mob didn’t look at him, he didn’t even blink, he just remained silent. Reigen was good at talking, he could do this. He just needed to pull the kid from this hell that he was sinking into. He wouldn’t let it swallow him. 

“You think they’d want this for you?” He gently shifted closer, his voice tightening just a bit. “You have to fight, Mob. You have to pull through. You owe it to them to keep going, even if they’re gone.” 

Though he felt like he was on the verge of tears, he kept strong, like he was teaching another valuable lesson. “They’d want you to live, not suffer like this. You have to try .” 

Something finally shifted in Mob’s eyes, like a distant light finally flickering, faint, but there. He then slowly closed them, murmuring “I’ll try…” before falling silent. He was out within minutes. He breathed shallow and uneven, but he was still breathing. 

After watching him for a few moments, Reigen rose to his feet, his joints aching, and his body felt tired. He silently observed the resting boy for another moment. He felt like he constantly needed to check. The sun’s rays seeped in and cast a calming light over them. Dust from the decrepit building hung in the air, catching the light like tiny stars. Mob lay still and quiet, skin pale, small frame. He looked as if he should be resting in an open casket. 

The thought chilled Reigen to his core, and he hurriedly snatched his backpack, heading for the door, only to stop in his tracks. The dam finally broke, and he couldn’t hold back anymore. 

“Damnit…” he breathed, as tears stung his eyes and began to spill over. He gripped his bag’s strap tightly, knuckles turning white. “Damnit!” he cried out, louder this time. His voice was ragged as he nearly doubled over. Mob didn’t even flinch; he remained unmoving, and that was probably the worst part. 

Reigen tried to steady himself, but his whole body trembled, his throat was tight and burning. He didn’t have time for this! Mob needed him. This kid was losing a battle right before his eyes. He was determined to save the kid, just like Mob had done for him. 

He finally straightened up, wiping his eyes on the back of his stained sleeve. He glanced back at Mob, giving the boy a silent promise before he turned and walked out.

------

Reigen rubbed his tired eyes as he walked silently. His shoes crunched lightly over bits of debris and frost that clung to the dying grasses. The sun was still out, peeking from thin, grey clouds, and the streets were silent. Today was colder, and the rain from yesterday had frozen. Light snowflakes floated gently through the chilled air, light as feathers. They danced in the sunrays, glistening and catching the light, sparkling like diamonds. It was quite beautiful. 

Reigen slowed for a moment and tilted his head up to watch the display. He needed this. It reminded him that there could still be beauty in this world. A moment to breathe. 

He sniffled softly and tried to convince himself it was because of the cold, not what had just happened in the building. Not the way Mob spoke or how he couldn’t quite focus on Reigen. He hiked his bag up further and pressed on. He didn’t want to leave Mob alone for long. 

Within an hour of walking, searching the remains of nearly empty buildings, and hiding from a few wandering creatures, Reigen was climbing through the busted-out window of a small pharmacy. He carefully lifted his leg and cautiously watched his hands around the jagged, broken glass lining the frame. It crunched and cracked beneath his feet as he finally stepped inside. The air was still and cold as his breath curled in a haze in front of him. One look around, and it was just as he expected; there was almost nothing left. 

The sun was on the other side of the building, so not much light seeped into the dark aisles, but Reigen still got a good look as he stepped over broken tiles and crushed boxes. 

Shelves were knocked over, items were torn open or broken, and old pill bottles were emptied or smashed. The place was trashed. Still, he’d look just in case, hoping to find something that could help Mob. 

His eyes scanned everywhere, hoping to find a stray bottle, a forgotten box, something tucked away behind a counter or under a shelf. After sifting through mundane items no one wanted like itch creams, expired sunscreen, smushed boxes of latex gloves, and old, crushed packs of gum, Reigen was starting to lose hope. But he needed to keep going.

He suppressed an irritated groan and refrained from digging the heel of his palms into his eyes. Come on… Something! Just one damn thing! He took a deep breath, keeping himself from kicking a nearby box into oblivion. 

As he neared an area of the place that used to be the cold medicine section, he started brushing aside more trash and useless items. That’s when his eyes finally landed on something, almost crushed by one of the overturned shelves. A bag of cough drops, crinkled, but sealed and intact.  Moments after that, he stumbled upon another undamaged item. a box of mild fever reducers. It was a start… Not a great one, but a start. He snagged them both quickly, shook the dust off, and shoved them into his bag without a second thought. 

He eventually wandered towards the back of the pharmacy, which held an office, a break room, and storage. His first instinct was to check the storage; if any good supplies still lingered, they had to be there, but of course, someone had beaten him to it. The area was probably picked clean a long time ago. Not even a stray bandage remained. Of course… 

He then checked the break room, which he wasn’t expecting much from, and then the office, which wasn’t too terribly trashed, but hadn’t held much either. He once again was not having much luck. However, he couldn’t stay out much longer; the sun was already starting to dip low in the sky, and he still needed to make the trip back. Mob was waiting. 

Frustrated, he began digging through anything and everything. Closets, drawers, cabinets. He needed more than a few cough drops and fever reducers. Then, his luck finally sparked to life when he ripped open a cabinet near the office desk. His eyes instantly landed on a wonderful sight. Water! There were six bottles of water, still sealed and neatly tucked in the cabinet. Someone likely hid them for safekeeping, but unfortunately, never came back. 

Reigen quickly snatched one of the bottles, unscrewed the cap, and greedily chugged half of it before he even realized. The liquid was cool due to the chill of the building and gently soothed his dry throat and mouth. 

He had kept his water consumption to a minimum over the past few days, only giving himself a sip or two, saving the rest of it for Mob. He only gave himself just enough to stay on his feet. 

That being said, the rest of the bottles were for Mob and Mob only. The kid needed this water more than he did. Reigen screwed the cap back on his half-finished bottle and stuffed it into a side pocket on his bag. He then grabbed the rest of the bottles one by one, shoving them into his backpack. 

As he was about to shove the last one in, he froze when he heard a sound. He wasn’t sure what it was; a soft clatter of some kind, like something falling over somewhere in the shop. He was immediately brought back to when he was cornered in that convenience store, back against the wall, sharp jagged claws scraping against tile as a monster stalked toward him. He felt his body go numb and his blood run cold. 

He breathed out shakily and slowly shoved the last bottle in his bag with trembling hands. Please don’t be a monster. Please don’t be a monster. He slowly rose to his feet, careful not to make any sound, and listened, already trying to come up with an escape plan in his mind. Perhaps he could sneak out. 

He took a few steps towards the office door when he heard another sound, a thump, this one sounded closer. He flinched violently, and his breathing began picking up. He swiftly grabbed his weapon, securing it tightly in his palm. His knuckles turned white as he readied himself. 

Another sound, and Reigen gritted his teeth. It was just beyond the doorway now, about to round the corner any second. He gripped his weapon tightly and stared past the doorframe into the dim hallway. He swore he could see a green glow, seeping over the pale walls as it approached, likely from the beast's glowing eyes. 

He drew in a deep breath, steadying, ready to stand his ground. He wasn’t dying here. No way. Not with Mob waiting for him, hanging on by a thread. The kid needed him, and he wasn’t leaving him. 

The glow grew more intense, slowly flooding into the doorway. It was right there, just to the left of the doorframe. Reigen drew back his weapon, ready to attack, as it finally rounded the corner. His eyes were intense as he swung his weapon fast, purposeful, and strong, only for it to completely pass through the being, like it was nothing but air. 

Reigen staggered slightly, thrown off by the lack of contact. His eyes widened as he stared at the thing in full view. The beast he was expecting wasn’t even a beast. It was… What the hell was he looking at? 

Something small and green was inches from his face. It had a face of its own, two eyes, a nose, and a mouth. It also had weird red circles on its cheeks. It just silently hovered there like a strange gaseous blob. He started to think he really was losing his mind from lack of food and water when the thing suddenly barked out a laugh. It sounded… human. 

“What the fuck…?” Reigen breathed, absolutely dumbstruck. 

The green ball of whatever the hell then whipped its eyes, its laughter slowly dying down. “Man, it's been a long time since I’ve scared a human. Don’t see them much anymore.” Its tone was amused, but also had a hint of melancholy, like it missed partaking in an old hobby. 

Reigen slowly raised his machete, jabbing it towards the being as if to poke it. His weapon once again phased through it, like nothing, but the blob still looked displeased. “Oi, watch it, bozo!” Its face shifted from smiling to annoyance. 

“I-I don’t…” the man stammered. 

“What? You’ve never seen a spirit before?” 

Reigen didn’t answer, no words came to him as his brain short-circuited. He was immediately brought back to the old days, in his office, clients babbling on about spirits, and now one was in front of him. This was real life, right? He didn’t fall and hit his head? Was he actually killed, and now he was a ghost too, and he just didn’t realize it? 

Reigen had seen spirits before, but that was a long time ago. He also had only ever seen a few during his time running Spirits & Such. They ranged from ghosts of disgruntled employees looking to get revenge on their shitty bosses, to creepy neon colored cratures that lingered in dark tunnels and railways. However, most of the time, Reigen’s job was to give a client a massage until they no longer felt a weight on their shoulders. Actual spirits were kind of rare. Needless to say, it’s been a long time since Reigen has actually seen a spirit. 

The spirit watched the man with a raised brow, seemingly wondering what kind of weird ass human he ran into. Was he going to regret showing himself? When Reigen didn’t answer at all, the spirit just sighed and moved on to something more helpful. 

“There are two more bottles of water on top of the cabinet.” The spirit suddenly pointed behind Reigen. This finally snapped the man from his thoughts as he slowly looked over to the large cabinet at the end of the room. It was another cabinet for storage that nearly reached the ceiling. He had already checked the inside, but didn’t think to look on top. 

“Uh, thanks…” It still felt strange, talking to a spirit like this. He slowly walked over to the desk, still watching this strange being. Its green glow was obnoxiously bright and honestly kind of hurt Reigen’s eyes. 

He slid a decrepit-looking chair from the desk and pushed it towards the cabinet. The chair was old and seemed unreliable, and Reigen prayed he wouldn’t fall through it. It made an unsettling creaking sound as he stepped onto it, putting his full weight on the chair. When the seat didn’t crumble beneath him, he looked up top, and lo and behold, there was more water. The spirit wasn’t lying. He quickly snatched them before carefully stepping down. 

“So… Do you haunt this place?” he asked, putting the bottles in the bag. When he woke up this morning, he did not think he would be having a casual conversation with a ghost. Still, this conversation might go better than any he’s had with Mob.

The green spirit seemed surprised Reigen was actually making conversation in the first place and shrugged. “Eh, I used to move around a lot more, but I’ve been settling here for a while. Didn’t exactly have a choice.” 

“Why is that?” Reigen asked as he threw his bag back over his shoulder. 

“I used to be stronger, but several months ago a pesky esper reduced me to this!” he huffed and threw his arms out, gesturing at his tiny and pitiful form. “Some jackass with a scar over his eye and spiky hair.” As he described the esper, he traced a finger down his own eye, imitating a scar. “Tried trapping me in a little jar!” The green blob seemed quite upset about this. 

“Wait… a scar?” Reigen instantly knew the esper had to be from Claw. He vaguely recalled seeing someone like that in the small handful of people, but he was honestly trying to put Claw out of his mind. 

“Yeah, you know him?” 

Reigen reattached his weapon to his bag, looking away from the ghost. “I… No, sorry, I don’t.” 

The spirit grumbled and crossed his arms, turning away as well. “Anyway, been hanging around here so I don’t run into them again, and spirits don’t really linger in the city anymore.” 

He didn’t know what the spirit meant by that. Were they steering clear, too? He figured that with so much death and destruction, ghosts would be everywhere! But apparently not. Maybe these demonic monsters sucked out people’s souls as well, he wouldn’t be surprised at this point. But the topic of spirits and death made an idea pop into his head. “Hey, can I ask you something?” 

The green blob looked back at him and raised a brow. “Uh, sure.” 

“So, you’re a ghost, right?” 

“Yeah?” the spirit drawls, looking even more confused. 

“Can you like… See other people’s spirits? No, no, that doesn’t make sense. I mean it does! But that’s not what I’m trying to ask.” He was rambling now. “I mean… Can you tell if someone is… about to die?” Reigen already felt extremely weird talking to a ghost in an old building; the uncomfortable topic he was trying to discuss only made him feel even more awkward. Just keep it together.  

The green ghost eyed him strangely before answering. “What am I, the fucking grim reaper?” 

“No, no.” Reigen shook his head. He wasn’t sure what he was even asking anymore or how to ask it. He just felt stupid. He just thought since ghosts and death go hand in hand, then maybe… “I have this kid… I mean, he’s not my kid. He’s like really sick and he’s an esper like that other guy you saw and I don’t know much about that stuff so I thought maybe…” He’s rambling again. 

The spirit’s interest was instantly piqued when the word esper tumbled from the man’s mouth. Sick and dying espers tend to have weak energy rolling off them like cracks in a well, leaking out uncontrollably in small trickles. Energy he could use. 

“Alright,” he spoke up, suppressing a grin. “I’ll take a look at your kid.” 

Reigen immediately wanted to reiterate that Mob wasn’t his kid, but he held back. “Wait… Really?” 

“Sure,” the spirit shrugged, successfully putting up the act that he wasn’t up to anything at all. “I’m an expert on espers. I can see what’s wrong with your kid.” 

“Thank you, but uh, he’s not my kid.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” the spirit waved his tiny hand. Kid or no kid, he couldn't care less, and this dumb human wasn’t suspecting a thing. He’ll just feed off some of that loose energy until the kid croaks and move on. “It’ll get dark soon, so we should probably get moving. You humans don’t hold up well against the hellhounds.” 

Is that what he calls the monsters? Still, Reigen agreed in an instant, and he soon left the building with the spirit in tow. As an awkward silence settled between them, they soon started introducing themselves to each other. When the spirit introduced himself as Dimple, Reigen said, “Really? That’s what you’re called?” And the spirit understandably got irritated and defensive. They didn’t talk the rest of the way. 

Reigen guided the spirit back to the building Mob was staying in, hoping the green blob could give him info on the kid’s condition. The spirit said he’d take a look at Mob, and that he knew about espers, so he was really banking on this strange ghost being able to tell what sort of state Mob was in. Ghosts are already dead, so he just assumed maybe they knew a bit more about… death. Though Reigen hoped Mob’s condition wasn’t that dire… 

They made their way inside the old industrial building, and as soon as the spirit’s eyes landed on Mob, he stopped suddenly and hovered there, still. His eyes were wide, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

 “Woah…” he muttered. 

Reigen immediately felt panic strike through him like lightning. “What? What is it?” 

Dimple didn’t answer right away. His eyes remained on the still form of the sick epser on the floor. However, he could see something that Reigen couldn’t. Where he expected a leaky faucet of energy, what he saw was a raging sea. The energy rolled off the kid in large waves, powerful and unstable in vibrant electric bursts. Blues, purples, and pinks all swirled, clashed, and twisted all around like an angry, churning sea against the backdrop of a violent tempest. Such amazing potential brimming within this child, yet so close to being snuffed out entirely. What a waste… That is, unless something changes. 

One wrong move, and even a touch from this loose energy could obliterate the spirit. After a long, silent moment, Dimple finally answered the man, not once taking his eyes off of Mob. “This kid is powerful…” 

Chapter Text

The fire crackled softly, casting a warm, flickering light against the cold darkness surrounding them. The sun had long since set, leaving the sky a pale grey with thickening clouds, typical of an early winter night. And it was a chilly one. Each night over the past week has felt like it has gotten colder and colder as winter came storming into existence.  

Mob still lay in the exact spot Reigen had left him. He hadn’t moved, not even a twitch or a slight shift. He was still, and only the faint, uneven rise and fall of his chest showed that he was still clinging to life. His breaths were quiet and wheezy. Occasionally, that same wet rattle would resound in his lungs, and the kid would cough harshly, before falling back into a heavy silence. It sounded brutal and echoed through the large empty room. 

Reigen sat silently, hunched close to the fire as he watched the flames, the light glinting off his dull and tired eyes. Though his eyes kept drifting to the boy lying nearby. He found himself glancing at the kid frequently, quick checks just to make sure he was still breathing. Still… around. Part of him was scared he’d glance over and… 

“Reigen…” A voice broke through the fog of uneasy thoughts and pulled him from the kid. His dark eyes slid over to the green spirit he had found a couple hours ago, floating nearby. 

When he brought Dimple back, the spirit took one look at the kid, and Reigen could already tell the situation was grave. The spirit had gone quiet, and that silence said enough. Now, it seemed like he was finally ready to say what he needed to say. 

“This kid is dying.” He didn’t sugarcoat it. Didn’t drag it out. Just flat out said what the man needed to hear, the blunt and brutal truth. The words hit hard, like a blow to his chest, knocking the wind out of him. He looked back toward Mob, throat tight, heart hammering in his chest. He knew, of course, he knew. Watching the kid crumble over the past few days. But hearing it out loud made it feel even more real. 

Reigen didn’t say a word as his eyes shifted back to the flames. He didn’t know what to say; right now, his mind was a storm, swirling with frustration, helplessness, and even a little guilt. He felt like he was failing the kid. After a minute of silence and Reigen’s lack of participation, the spirit went on. 

“Such a shame, too. This kid has a lot going for him,” his tone was surprisingly solemn, like he actually felt sorry for Mob. “I hate seeing wasted potential.” 

Reigen finally gritted his teeth, his face twisted with anger and annoyance. Not at Dimple, but at himself. At the whole situation. “What the hell do you expect me to do?!” he nearly snapped, but his voice cracked halfway through. It came out more desperate than angry. 

Dimple narrowed his eyes at the man. He could see it clearly, Reigen wasn’t just some bystander. The man really wanted to help this kid. Badly. He was desperate just to keep the kid alive, a kid that Reigen had told the spirit at least three times already wasn’t even his. 

Normally, the spirit didn’t give a damn about the struggles of humans. He didn’t waste his time with it, especially with humans he had just come across randomly. Or rather, ones that waltzed into his place of residence. But there was something about the kid, something he was still trying to figure out. 

Maybe it was the kid’s power. The pure, raw energy that radiated off of him was immense. He had encountered plenty of espers in his ghostly life, but espers like this, you don’t see every day. Maybe it was something else. Curiosity? Maybe pity for being stuck with such a sorry excuse of a caretaker. Maybe it was just boredom. 

Whatever it was, it kept him there. What he said was true; the kid had potential. The kind that could shape things, change things. Maybe he could even change the world one day. However, if there was even a chance he might survive, it wasn’t going to happen with the kid’s caregiver falling apart like this. This guy needed to get it together. 

“First of all,” Dimple drawled with a hint of smugness, “You can’t just force-feed the kid old cough drops and off-brand fever reducers! Those aren’t going to help.”

An irritated expression once again made its way to Reigen’s face, and his voice held frustration and desperation yet again. “Where the fuck am I supposed to get medicine? That was all I could find.” 

Dimple hovered there silently for a moment, crossing his arms and looking generally unbothered. “You don’t strike me as the type to give up easily,” he said flatly.  

And he wasn’t. The spirit was right, and that only pissed Reigen off more. He was just overwhelmed with it all. The thought of failing to save this poor kid practically killed him inside. He tried to take a calming breath, pulling chilled air into his lungs, hoping it might somehow push the panic down, too. He needed to pull himself together. “Yeah,” he finally muttered. “You’re right.” 

Reigen leaned back slightly. Exhaustion was starting to hit him now. His voice was low and fatigued. “I just don’t understand what could bring him down so quickly. He seemed okay at first, quiet, but okay. Now it’s just…” 

Dimple hummed, glancing over at the kid. “Could be a lot of things. This world is a cesspool,” he shrugged. “Could be something in the air, something he touched, even something he ate. Wouldn’t be surprised if he got desperate and bit into something sick and already dead. A diseased animal of some kind. My money’s on that.” 

Reigen remained silent, and Dimple could tell he wasn’t particularly enjoying the conversation. 

The green spirit eyed him before sighing softly. “Look, I know it seems bleak, but there are still plenty of places to look. Stores, houses, clinics, even hospitals. Someone somewhere has to have something. You just haven’t found it yet.” 

Reigen let the words wash over him and sink in slowly. He then let them wash over him a second time, but this time, they hit him like a tidal wave, full force. His mind, dreary from exhaustion and grief, suddenly sparked to life as an idea popped into his head. He was right! The spirit was right! A faint but important memory began to surface. 

That day, after the hospital and the run-in with Mob. His former teammate's words were ringing in his skull like a bell. 

“We still have plenty of medicine back at the home base.” 

His eyes widened. That’s it! 

“Those Claw guys! They have medicine!” He finally perked up, energy returning to his body and voice. For the first time in days, Reigen felt like he could actually do something to help the kid. He knew what his next step could be. 

“Claw guys? You mean the group that jackass with the scar was in?” Dimple asked, narrowing his eyes at the man. 

“Yeah, I uh… hung around them for a bit,” Reigen admitted, trying to brush it off so they could move on. 

“You told me you didn’t know that guy!” Dimple squinted at him skeptically. 

“I don’t know that guy specifically,” Reigen shot back quickly, waving a dismissive hand. “I was in the group for literally less than a day.” 

Dimple continued to eye him suspiciously, but Reigen couldn't care less. There was no time for all that. “Look, it doesn’t matter,” he rushed to say, trying to get back to the important topic at hand. “What matters is they have a stash of medicine somewhere. We just need to find it!” 

“ We? ” Dimple nearly recoiled at the man’s words. “You expect me to waltz into a group full of espers?” he asked, his usual confidence drained from his voice and replaced with clear unease. 

“Please, I need your help on this. You said it yourself, letting Mob die would be a waste, and you hate wasted potential, right?” Reigen didn’t want to beg for some random spirit’s help, especially a smug one like Dimple, but his pride didn’t matter anymore. If begging meant saving Mob, then so be it. 

The fact of the matter is, he wasn't lying when he said he needed Dimple’s help. Dimple could easily phase through walls, slip through cracks, and scout around without the high risk of being seen. He was the perfect heist partner, and Reigen wasn’t above admitting it. 

“You can go where I can’t. We’ll find the medicine faster if you help me.” He gave Dimple a pleading look. He needed the spirit to agree before it got to the point where he’d need to grovel on his hands and knees. 

“And you’re sure this is a good idea? I mean, you really think they’ll let you stroll back into their camp like nothing happened?” Dimple asked, his tone still held a hint of worry. 

Reigen hesitated a second. He honestly wasn’t too sure about that. “Well… They probably think I’m dead,” he said with an awkward shrug. “It's not like I left on bad terms, I just left quietly. I’m sure it will work out just fine.” 

Dimple didn’t look too convinced. “Uh-huh… And if it’s not fine?” 

Reigen let out an uneasy breath. “Then I’ll improvise. I’m good at that.” 

Dimple’s face scrunched up in a grimace, his lips pressed into a tight, irritated line as he grumbled quietly to himself. He couldn’t believe this idiot was talking him into something like this. The worst part was, it was actually working. Reigen was right, if there was even a sliver of a chance to save the kid, they had to do this. He never should have made that wasted potential comment. 

“Fine,” The spirit breathed out, eyes shifting away from the man. “I’ll help you. But first, you need to do something else.” 

Reigen immediately got a bad feeling deep in the pit of his stomach at Dimple’s words. What would the spirit want? Was he about to ask for Reigen’s soul in exchange? Make the poor man his personal human pet for entertainment? Reigen straightened up warily and tried not to think too hard about it. “Uh, sure. What is it?” 

Dimple’s eyes flicked toward Mob, and his face once again had that solemn look. “You need to move the kid first.” 

Reigen exhaled softly, tension easing from his shoulders just a bit. That was it? That was the big ask? He was expecting far worse, but he was glad that was all the spirit wanted. 

Dimpled continued. “This location isn’t safe,” he said bluntly. “This building is practically falling apart, windows are busted out, and it’s way too open. Someone or something could just walk right in here with ease. This cold, dry winter air is murder on his lungs and isn’t helping. Also,” Dimple jabbed his thumb behind him to a dark rotting spot on one of the back walls. “I’m pretty sure that’s mold on the wall over there.”

Reigen’s eyes flicked to the spot, then back to Mob. “A-Alright. Move him somewhere else. Got it.” Reigen nodded. 

Dimple quickly shook his head, frowning. “No, not just somewhere else , somewhere better, safer. If you want this kid to even have a fighting chance, he can’t stay here.” 

Reigen sighed softly and nodded again. Slower this time. “Yeah… I understand.” 

“Do you know of a place?” Dimple asked without missing a beat. 

“Yeah, I think I have a place in mind,” the man said, eyes drifting back to the fire. “We will leave in the morning, It’ll be safer. I’ll move him first thing to the new location. While I’m doing that, I need you to scout out Claw. I can give you the location where they were last staying, and hopefully, you can find out where their main base is. Deal?” 

The spirit hovered silently, studying him for a moment before a small smirk finally broke on his face. “You’ve got a deal.” 

With a plan in motion, Reigen tried to let himself relax a little, muscles aching from the days of tension. He needed some rest, he had a feeling tomorrow was going to be hell. At least they were finally moving forward. 

------

As soon as the sun began to peek over the horizon, Reigen got ready to move. The cold morning air was biting as a light frost glazed over the dead plants and grasses, as well as the broken windows. The sky had cleared just enough to let the golden sun wash over the landscape. Reigen peered out the window, letting his eyes scan the outside area, making sure things were clear. He couldn’t take any chances. 

Dimple had taken off a few minutes prior, vanishing into the morning glow after Reigen told him the rundown of where he last saw the Claw group. There was a good chance they had moved on already, but they could still be nearby. They seemed to linger and lurk within the city. The conman and spirit both made a pact to meet at Reigen’s new location by the afternoon. Which was most likely going to be how long it would take Reigen to get there. It was all the way on the other side of town, and he was going to be carrying an extra load. 

Speaking of the extra load, he turned and slowly made his way over to Mob, trying to figure out the best way to carry him and everything else. He decided it would probably be easier to carry the kid on his back. He wouldn't be able to carry the kid across town in his arms, they’d probably fall off. He also didn’t want to risk dropping the poor kid if he got tired halfway through. But then there was the issue of their bags. He had to carry both his backpack and Mob’s. 

In the end, he finally came up with a solution. A strange one, but it was the only one that made sense. He grabbed Mob’s bag and crouched down near the kid. Mob had hardly moved, and Reigen doubted he’d wake up anytime soon. Reigen wasn’t about to force this kid to move even if he did wake up. 

He carefully eased the boy into a sitting position, his head lolling forward. Reigen tried not to think too hard about how Mob didn’t even stir. Instead, he focused on keeping him steady while he maneuvered Mob’s bag onto the kid’s back. Mob would be carrying his own bag for this trip. 

Once it was on and Reigen was satisfied with his work, he gently laid the boy back down. He lay awkwardly with the bulk of his backpack beneath him. Reigen was starting to question this method, but there was no way in hell he was making two trips across town. 

Reigen then grabbed his own bag and put it on backwards, strapping it over his chest so that he could carry Mob on his back. It took several long, awkward moments of shifting limbs and adjusting weight, but Reigen finally managed to get the boy onto his back. Mob hung there like dead weight, head resting against Reigen’s shoulder, his breaths soft and wheezy, and Reigen could feel the feverish heat radiating from him. With a backpack on his front, Mob’s weight on his back, and a backpack on the kid’s back, Reigen was ready to go. 

He already knew this trip was going to be hell on his body, a literal physical nightmare, but it was for a good cause. He was sure he looked like a strange, hunched over creature carrying all this shit. There was also the risk of running into anything. He wasn’t going to be able to move well like this. But Riegen wasn’t dumb. He knew how to get around. He planned to stick to alleyways, stay low, and stay quiet. They were going to make it. He didn’t care how long it took or how bad it hurt. The man was determined to make that happen. 

He slowly shuffled toward the door and let out a soft sigh, each step cautious with the extra weight on his back.  

“Alright, kiddo. We’re moving out.” With that, Reigen strode forward and out the door, trying not to cringe at the fact that he just called Mob kiddo. 

------

The first hour went by smoothly. Reigen did as he planned and stuck to alleyways. So far, no monsters, no asshole espers, no trouble. Maybe they’d make it without any issues at all, but damn his back was starting to hurt. With each step, it felt like Mob was growing heavier and heavier on his back. Not to mention the straps from his bag dug painfully into his shoulders. 

He debated on setting the kid down and taking a few minutes to rest. Just a five-minute break to stretch his spine, catch his breath, and wait for more feeling to come back into his arms. But then Mob gave a soft, weak cough against his shoulder, and he knew he couldn’t stop. Not yet, at least. Onward he goes. 

He slowly approached the end of an alley, his shoes scraping against the loose rocks and pavement as his footsteps became increasingly tired. The sun was higher in the sky now, and light spilled into the dark passage. It was a bit harsh and caused the man to squint. All he needed to do was cross the street to the next alley, but he froze when he caught movement out on the street. 

He took a few steps back into the shadows, huddling close against the cold brick wall next to him. Near the street, right next to the alley Reigen needed to get to, lingered a few of the monsters. They weren’t huge, one being about the size of a wild boar, the other two maybe the size of deer, maybe a little larger, but Reigen was in no position to be fighting or even drawing attention. 

They were all huddled together, shuffling around something on the ground, but Reigen couldn’t tell what. Their bodies blocked it entirely from his view. He clenched his jaw, trying to come up with some sort of plan. He could backtrack and go around, taking a different path, but then he’d have to go several extra blocks, adding to an already grueling trip. His poor back couldn’t take much more of this. 

Maybe a distraction. He glanced around the alley, trying to find something, anything he could use. That’s when his eyes landed on an old rusty can crumpled near the wall. That could be something, but he needed more. 

He then peeked around the corner and noticed a car a little ways down the street, just past the creatures. If he could nail the car with a clean shot, the noise might draw them away. Just one swift and perfectly aimed kick, he just hoped he could pull it off. It’s been years, but Reigen played a few soccer games back in high school. He also didn’t have the extra weight of a fourteen-year-old on his back. 

He carefully shuffled and nudged the can with his foot, putting it in the perfect position. Once it was lined up, he took a deep breath, mentally preparing before pulling his leg back and delivering the final blow. The can, as expected, went flying. It arched through the air and right toward the target. It slammed into the car's windshield with a loud crack, the glass splintering with the sharp sound. Goal! 

The monster’s heads snapped up at the noise, and without hesitation, they scurried to investigate, growling and snuffling all the way towards the rusted vehicle. They weren’t going to be distracted for long, so Reigen had to move quickly. 

He hastily dashed out from the shadows and into the street, heading straight for the alleyway, being sure to keep his footsteps light. As he got closer, he finally saw what the beasts were huddled around, and his stomach turned. A body… Torn and twisted, fresh blood soaking into the cracked pavement. Some poor bastard who most likely got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. Flesh hung off in ragged strips, and muscle and bone were chewed raw, looking like minced meat. A deep, clean slash ran down the length of the torso. It seemed deliberate and unnatural. It looked like the beasts had just started to rip it open further. 

Reigen didn’t let his eyes linger on the mangled body as he passed by. He needed to keep moving, and he wasn’t sure his stomach could handle it if he looked for too long. Sadly, he feels he should be used to this by now. He was just glad Mob wasn’t awake to see any of it. 

He made it successfully across the street, disappearing into the shadows of the next alleyway. He breathed a sigh of relief and pressed on, keeping his pace quick. He was sure the creatures were already starting to wander back towards their meal. 

As he turned a corner, he grumbled under his breath and hoisted the kid higher up on his back again. They still had a little ways to go. As he adjusted the boy, Mob finally started to stir. A wave of relief washed over Reigen as the kid was finally showing some more signs of life. 

Mob let out a pathetic and tired groan and managed to crack open his eyes just a bit. “Reigen,” he rasped. Even with the kid inches from him, Reigen still had a hard time hearing him. His voice was nearly gone. 

Reigen was quick to assure the boy, quiet and steady. “It’s okay, kid. We’re moving somewhere else. I’m taking you somewhere better, safer.” 

Mob weakly shook his head. It looked like even the motion made him feel sick. “No,” he whispered, his voice fatigued. “Go back…” His words were uncertain, like he knew what was going on but was also lost in a haze, disoriented. 

“Sorry, but that’s not happening. We needed to move,” Reigen told him firmly, not backing down from the decision. 

He knew if Mob was more coherent, he’d argue a bit more. He also knew what the kid would say. He’d tell the man to take him back to the building, just to leave him there like he was some burden. He’d once again insist that Reigen move on without him. Even if he did try to argue, Reigen wouldn’t even give him the chance. 

“We’ll be there soon, Mob. It’s just a bit further.” As he finished speaking, he felt a faint pressure as Mob’s feeble grip tightened just to bit. He mumbled another no, but didn’t speak further after that. He seemed upset about something, but didn’t have the strength to voice it.  

Reigen just kept pushing forward, nearing the end of another alley. “Just relax, kid,” he encouraged, stepping out of the alley and into the winter sunlight. 

Unfortunately, danger was never far, always just around the corner. However, this time, it wasn’t a monster; it was something else entirely. Reigen couldn’t decide if this was worse or not. 

“Well, well, well… Look who it is.” 

Reigen froze as the familiar voice reached his ears. His body suddenly went cold as fear struck him, clenching around his lungs and making it hard to breathe. He could practically feel his heart stutter in his chest, and he felt like his legs were shaking. They were just to the left of him. Reigen debated on running, but knew he wouldn’t even make it ten steps. He swallowed thickly before slowly turning to face them. 

Koyama and Sakurai stood there, cold eyes locked on him and the kid on his back. 

“We assumed you got killed by that monster. Ya know, after you bolted like a damn coward,” Koyama taunted, but his eyes were settled on Mob. “Looks like you got yourself wrapped up in something else.”

Reigen drew in a breath and took a small step back. It wasn’t subtle enough, as both men narrowed their eyes at him. When Reigen still didn’t speak up, a nasty smirk appeared on Koyama’s face. 

“I see you caught our little problem,” his voice was disturbingly and uncharacteristically calm. “Drop the kid.” It was a clear demand. Of course, Sakurai remained silent. His cold gaze said enough. 

Reigen tightened his grip on Mob and shook his head. His heart thundered like it was going to burst out of his chest, but he finally found his voice. It was quiet and pathetic, but his answer was clear. “No.” 

The esper’s somewhat calm demeanor melted away instantly. People can’t hide their true natures for long. “Drop the damn kid!” he barked, voice laced with fury, but Reigen wasn’t backing down. He wasn’t going to be intimidated by this guy again. 

“I’m not giving him to you!” he snapped back instantly. Mob stirred a bit more at the raised voices. Reigen knew the sick kid probably wasn’t the only thing they were stirring.

The boy’s fingers clutched a little tighter on Reigen’s coat. “Don’t…” he rasped, his voice broken and barely audible. Whether it was towards Reigen or the other men, it didn't matter. It was the fragile voice of a kid who was weak and still trying to protect someone. 

“It’s okay, Mob,” Reigen quietly reassured. He heard Mob mumble something else, but he didn’t quite register it; his mind was starting to race. He just needed to do what he did best: talk his way out of this. At this point, Sakurai was already pulling out his Katana.

“Don’t do this,” Reigen said, trying to keep his voice from wavering. “He’s sick. He’s not a threat to you.”

“I don’t give a damn what he is. I won't ask you again.” Koyama’s tone was low and menacing as he rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles. 

Reigen was scared, but he was done showing it. He’ll do whatever he can to protect this kid. “I’m not giving him up,” he told them, quietly but firmly. There was silence for a moment. All Reigen could hear were Mob’s ragged breaths. But there was something else behind it, a quiet hum of something. Mob’s fingers twitched against the man’s jacket. 

Koyama shrugged, like it wasn’t an issue at all. “That’s fine, we’ll just take him from you then.” 

Reigen didn’t even have time to react. He hardly even got the chance to process the words before Koyama was on him, slamming a fist into his stomach. He doubled over as a strangled gasp escaped him. In that exact moment, Mob was ripped from his back. He tried to recover quickly, but he was being forced to the ground before he could regain his footing. Everything was happening so fast, his mind was struggling to catch up. 

Even the pain in his body from being forced to the ground lagged, like his body was catching up to what had happened. For a few seconds, all he saw was pavement as his cheek pressed against it. When he was finally able to lift his head, he realized the situation he was in. He was flat on his stomach, his bag tossed aside, and a foot firmly pressed into his back, the heel practically digging into his spine. 

Just a few feet ahead, Koyama stood with a wicked grin, his hand tightly gripping the scruff of Mob’s hoodie. Mob stood as well, but just barely, his eyes blinking blearily and dazed like he was also struggling to piece together what was happening. 

“Let him go!” Reigen croaked, still trying not to hurl from the blow to his gut. The foot at his back only dug in harder and he could feel the sharp end of a sword poking into his jacket. 

“You’re really defending this kid?” Koyama sneered, giving the boy a rough shake. “After everything he’s done, everything he’s stolen?” 

”You stole that shit first, jackass!” Reigen shot back. 

“I’d watch my mouth if I were you. Since when did you get so brave, huh?” the larger man teased with a low chuckle. 

Reigen gritted his teeth and clenched his fists against the rough concrete. He wanted to move, but it was kind of hard with a goddamn sword at his back, and the extra weight keeping him pinned like an insect. “Just let him go–” 

“Nah, not happening. Ya know what?” Koyama tilted his head, smiling at the helpless child in his grip. “I might have a little fun with the kid first before we take him back to base.”

“Don’t–!” But before Reigen could even finish, the man drove a fist into Mob’s stomach. The boy hunched forward, a ragged cough tearing from his throat. His already limp legs gave out further. 

“Mob!” Reigen cried, anger and fear surging through him like a wildfire. 

“How’d you end up with this kid anyway?” Koyama asked casually, but Reigen refused to answer. He just gave the man a cold glare, the hatred in his eyes doing all the talking. 

Koyama scoffed at his silence. “Fine, be that way.” Without warning, he hit Mob a second time, a brutal backhand across the face. He struck the poor kid so hard that the impact echoed through the silent street. Mob fell to the ground with a sickening thud, and Reigen saw some blood spatter onto the pavement. His own blood instantly ran cold. 

“Stop it! He’s sick, you son of a bitch!” Reigen’s hands began to tremble. He was about to start begging. This deranged man was going to kill Mob. 

He felt Sakurai shift, the pressure easing slightly for a moment. The man spoke up a second later. “Koyama,” his tone came off as a warning. “Don’t kill the kid. The boss will want him alive.” 

The larger man scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I’m not gonna kill him,” he said dismissively. “We’re just having fun. Right, kid?” He then grabbed a fistful of Mob’s messy hair and yanked him upright. Mob was hardly even registering the pain. His eyes were unfocused as he drew in short gasps. Reigen’s heart twisted as he could already see the spot on his face darkening from where the man had hit him, along with specks of blood at the corner of his mouth. 

“Please… He’s just a kid.” Reigen whispered. His throat ached, and his chest burned; he felt like he might vomit. That’s when a hand came down and grabbed him by his own hair, forcefully wrenching his head up. He then felt the cold blade of Sakurai’s katana against his throat. 

“We’ll make you a deal, Reigen,” Koyama started, but Reigen wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were locked on Mob. The kid still looked dazed, but their eyes met, almost giving each other a silent apology.

“Let us take the kid without a fight,” Koyama went on. “Not like you can do much anyway, and we’ll let you live and walk away scott free. No cuts, no scars. All you gotta do is agree.” 

Reigen didn’t say anything at first. His eyes were still glued to Mob. The kid was battered and barely conscious, but he still looked like he wanted to help in some way. 

Koyama’s voice dripped with venom. “Knowing how much of a selfish coward you are. You’d gladly trade his life to spare your own, wouldn’t you? Leave him behind, like you did to us?” 

Mob’s gaze didn’t waver as he gave Reigen a look he couldn’t quite discern. Was it fear? Disappointment? Trust? Whatever it was, it only made Reigen’s chest ache more than it already was. 

Reigen didn’t want to listen to any more of this. No! He was going to be better. He didn’t want to be a coward anymore. He was done with being too afraid to help others who needed it or stand his ground. He wanted to be the type of person someone could depend on! 

After moments of tense silence, Reigen's answer came, low and cold. “No.” 

“Suit yourself.” Koyama shrugged, mockery clear in his tone. It was then that the pressure on Reigen’s throat increased. He felt the cold edge of Sakurai’s sword press harder. A sharp stinging sensation flared down his neck as the blade dug in ever so slightly. 

For the first time in days, Mob’s eyes widened and nearly sparked to life as he suddenly began to squirm in the larger man's grip. It was weak, but he began to thrash and kick. He was trying to fight, trying to break free, trying to do something! He gritted his teeth and tried desperately to muster up some energy and pull his powers forward, but they were just a small flicker. Reigen was going to get hurt! Reigen was going to be killed, and it was his fault. Everything was always his fault. 

Mob growled like a cornered animal and began clawing at the hand gripping his hair. His weak breathing picked up sharply as he silently begged for his powers to obey. But his weakened state left him drained, his energy shifting uselessly in his body. Where he needed crashing waves, he got placid ripples that lingered below his skin. It was like grasping sand, feeling it slip through his fingers and blow away with the wind. His abilities were just out of reach, and all he could do was struggle. 

Koyama’s patience was already wearing thin before all this. “What the fuck is your problem, brat?” He brought another hand forward, ready to seize the kid by his throat, but even in a weak state, Mob was faster. He sank his teeth into the man’s hand and continued thrashing about. He was almost feral at this point, too weak to call upon his powers, so he had to resort to other means. 

The man yelped in pain as the action only seemed to piss him off more. He ripped his hand from Mob’s jaw, snarling in frustration. “You little shit!” he spat, slamming his fist into Mob again and letting the boy collapse to the pavement. “You wanna act like the beasts, then I’ll kill you like one!” 

“Koyama!” Sakurai’s voice cut through, sharp and firm. It stopped the enraged man mid-step. 

Reigen stared with wide, terrified eyes. Mob wasn’t moving, he just lay still and silent on the cold ground. 

Koyama exhaled sharply through his nose, trying to push down some of his rage as he slowly approached. “Both of you really fucked up this time, but I’m still feeling generous enough to give you a choice, Reigen. Lucky you.” 

Reigen was hardly listening, his eyes still on the motionless kid. 

“Option one, Sakurai can slit your throat and you can die choking on your own blood. Or option two, I beat the ever-loving shit out of you and we leave you in the street for the beasts. Like that poor bastard down the block. You saw him, right?”

Reigen’s breath picked up, he could hear his heart beating in his ears. 

“Might want to choose quickly,” Koyama said coolly. “I can hear some of them coming now.” Down the street, low snarls and growls of approaching monsters echoed off crumbling buildings, the commotion once again bringing them out of the shadows. “What’s it going to be, Reigen?” 

He could hear the words being spoken to him, but everything felt distant. He could feel the cold blade of Sakurai’s katana sinking into his tender skin. He knew monsters were getting closer, their claws scraping pavement. They’d be on them in seconds. 

“You’ve got til the count of three.” 

What the hell was he supposed to do? He can’t fight back. Mob isn’t moving. 

“One.”

The poor kid lay crumpled on the street, bleeding. He failed. He failed to protect this kid. Mob still wasn’t moving. 

“Two.” 

He could feel hot tears filling his eyes, blurring his vision. Was this really it? Was this his pathetic end? A failure once again? 

Mob still wasn’t moving.

“Three.” 

A sudden burst of bright light erupted, and for a second, Reigen thought he was dead. He felt Sakurai pull his blade back and swiftly step off of him. That was when Reigen realized he had squeezed his eyes shut. The wind around them had picked up harshly, as it howled through the streets and alleyways, picking up dirt and debris in every direction. He slowly forced his eyes open. Through the chaos and the swirling dust, he saw something—the silhouette of a figure, standing in the eye of the storm. 

They stood hunched, arms dangling at their sides, and their head hung forward. It looked like it was made of shadows and darkness as it stood there silently and didn’t move. Reigen wanted to take his eyes off the figure to look for the other two men, but couldn’t bring himself to do so. He felt as if he did, something bad would happen. He knew Koyama and Sakurai were still there, he could feel their presence just behind him. They had the right sense of mind to move out of the way of whatever this was, but they didn’t run.

Reigen slowly tried to push himself up, but the storm was harsh, and it felt like the world was collapsing in on itself. The air felt heavy, like gravity had suddenly increased, and a black hole was about to open up and swallow everything whole. 

Reigen couldn’t see them, but at least one of the men behind him still looked like he was ready for a fight, reckless and foolish. Ready to take on this shadowy being that could most likely destroy him in seconds. The other, though, didn’t look so eager. Sakurai didn’t show fear, but he wasn’t that much of an idiot to jump right into what was shaping up to be a psychic supernova. 

As Koyama took a step forward, Sakurai placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Don’t be an idiot! We need to get out of here, now!” 

“He’s just a brat! Don’t tell me you're scared,” Koyama huffed, shrugging the hand off with a rough jerk. “I’m not leaving without that little shit!” 

Despite the literal black hole forming in front of the man, warping the air around them and about to tear reality apart, he refused to back down, blind with rage and arrogance. 

“Koyama!” the other man hissed between clenched teeth. The larger esper stopped and glanced back at his partner. “Look…” the man said, gesturing around the street with an incline of his head. 

Koyama narrowed his eyes, but followed the man’s gesture. Around them, the monsters that had been approaching stood still and off to the side, no longer advancing toward them. Normally, they would be rushing in for a meal, but not this time. They paced, growled, and hissed like scared animals at an oncoming threat, none of them dared to step closer. Their bodies seemed tense, twitchy, and uncertain. Some of them even had their tails tucked between their legs like scared dogs. They wanted to get to Reigen and the other two men, but did not want to go near the void-like being. 

“I don't know about you, but I’m not fighting something not even the beasts will go near,” Sakurai said, his tone serious as Koyama’s rage began to falter. “Not unless we have a lot more backup.” 

Koyama growled under his breath and glanced back at the figure. It had been standing idly, its head still low. It was a threat, but it stood there as if lost in thought, fixating on the ground. However, it was starting to shift—a twitch of its fingers and a tilt of the head. They needed to move quickly. 

“Damnit!” the man huffed, taking a step back. “Fine. Let's go.” 

Reigen heard their hurried footsteps smack against the pavement even in the storm. It didn’t take long for the sound to fade completely. He didn’t care, his eyes were still on the dark figure. It just stood there, hunched forward like a puppet with cut strings, shifting occasionally. Was it even awake? The environment reacted to it, but it didn’t react to anything. 

Reigen heard more scurrying steps; this time, it was the monsters making their getaway. Whatever this being was, it even scared the beasts. As Reigen’s eyes shifted back, he felt his blood run cold. The being had raised its head and was now staring directly at Reigen. Its eyes were a piercing, vacant white. There was nothing in them, but everything at the same time. A blank, hollow void that seemed to hold entire galaxies and universes. Its hair stood up and floated freely as if it were underwater. Even with the rushing winds, it had a gentle sway. It wasn’t very tall either, maybe about as tall as… 

“Mob…” Reigen wasn’t sure how he hadn’t made the connection. Everything happened so quickly, his mind was still scrambling to catch up to it all. The dark void of a teenager still just stood there, silent and staring. Reigen never thought he’d find anything scarier than the monsters… 

The staring didn’t last long. The kid started to hunch forward again, and the dark energy around him began to dissipate. The storm began to calm, and Reigen felt like he could move again. Just in time, too, as the kid lurched forward and started to fall towards the pavement, the black energy around him suddenly faded like smoke. 

With a rush of adrenaline, Reigen managed to scramble forward and catch the kid just before he faceplanted into the concrete. His heart was still racing, and his hands still trembled as he gently held the kid. Whatever the hell that was, he hoped he wouldn’t see it again. 

He took a few minutes to compose himself. Void beings or not, he still had a mission to complete. At least all the monsters and jackass espers were gone, running for the hills. Reigen felt like he should be, too. Part of him felt like he should be more terrified, but his brain was struggling to connect the dark being with Mob. Like, there was no way that was real… right? 

He quickly shook his head, trying to clear his spiraling thoughts, and decided he should probably get moving instead of sitting in the street like an idiot. His body felt like it was on autopilot as he grabbed his bag, scooped up Mob once again, and got moving. 

------

After a long, excruciating journey, Reigen finally saw the building up ahead. He also saw the obnoxiously green spirit waiting impatiently outside of it. Reigen paused to hoist Mob higher in his arms. He was close to dropping the kid. His back was killing him, so he transferred Mob to his arms for the last little bit of the journey. Now, he regretted it as his muscles ached, and it felt like he’d never use his arms again. 

“Took you long enough,” Dimple called as Reigen slowly approached. “Thought I was at the wrong building.” The spirit glanced up at the building, which was somewhat tall and looked like a boring office building. Near the top, hung a faded sign that read Spirits & Such Consultation . 

“Nope… This is it…” Reigen panted, completely out of breath. Pulling air into his lungs was painful, like his next one might be his last. He sounded just as wheezy as Mob and was just as sweaty. 

Dimple looked back at the man as he finally approached, and his eyes zeroed in on the unconscious boy in his arms. “What the hell happened?!” he exclaimed. “What’d you drop the kid fifty times on the way here?” 

Reigen huffed, hoisting the boy up again, using his knee to help push up. “W-We ran into Claw…” 

“What?!” The spirit asked, hovering close with a look of disbelief. 

“Let's just get him inside. We can talk in there.” Reigen didn't have the energy right now and just wanted to finally set the kid down and rest. 

He guided Dimple up the stairs, wincing with every step as the weight in his arms was unbearable at this point. His legs felt like jelly, and his ankle was still bugging him a bit. Once at the top, he awkwardly maneuvered his wrist to twist the knob and open the door.

The office looked just how he left it. Surprisingly, the windows were still intact, the furniture was untouched, and the place wasn’t even destroyed. Not like anyone was desperate enough to bust into some small office for pens and printer paper.   

“Thank god I had to leave in such a hurry and never locked the place,” Reigen breathed, shuffling into the dark office and kicking the door shut behind him. “Lost my keys two weeks into this damn disaster.” He went straight for his ratty old couch and deposited the boy onto it as gently as he could. 

Dimple slowly hovered over and eyed both of them. “You’re bleeding,” he pointed out, and Reigen’s hand immediately went up to his neck. It still stung from where Sakurai held his blade to it. When he pulled his finger away, sure enough, there was blood. 

“I’m fine…” he insisted, sinking to the floor next to the couch and turning his focus to Mob. “The kid got it worse. He got beat up pretty bad… And I couldn't do anything but watch.” 

“I’m surprised the brat’s still alive,” Dimple commented. 

Reigen thinks of the dark figure—a being made of dying light and collapsing stars—and how its vacant eyes bore into him. He thinks of how the monster, apex predators by nature, cowered before it, tails tucked as they whimper like frightened dogs. “To be honest,” Reigen muttered, “me too.” 

He swallowed thickly and reached up to wipe the dirt and sweat from his face. “Look,” he sighed, exhaustion seeping through. “I can’t go with you to the Claw base anymore.” 

“What? And you expect me to go alone?” Dimple shot back. 

“They saw me,” Reigen said, frustrated. It wasn’t like he wanted the plan to change. “They saw me with Mob. They know I’m helping him. I’m sure they’re already telling their buddies all about it and looking for us.” 

Dimple narrowed his eyes, but had yet to say anything, so Reigen continued. “Please. If they see me, they’ll kill me. But you’re already dead. You have nothing to lose.” 

“I could be exorcised, Reigen!” Dimple snapped, looking more annoyed the longer this conversation went on. 

Reigen lowered his gaze, then let his eyes wander to Mob, lying motionless on the couch. “Dimple, I’m begging. If I die, then Mob dies… I can’t do it.” 

The spirit let out a long sigh, his eyes settling on Mob. The boy lay there still and quiet, a bruise darkening on his cheek. His breaths were still weak. The man was right; the kid wouldn’t last much longer. 

What the hell had he gotten into? 

“Fine… “ he muttered. “But I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for the kid.” 

Reigen let out a breath that sounded dangerously close to a sob. “Thank you.” 

“Get it together, asshole. I just said this isn’t for you.” 

Reigen didn’t care. He just took a deep breath and nodded. “Hey,” Dimple said, bringing his attention back to the spirit. “You owe me. Big time.” 

Dimple could have whatever he wanted at that point. If he wanted Reigen’s soul, it was all his. If he wanted the man to be his personal servant. So be it. As long as Mob got the medicine he needed. 

After a couple of hours, Dimple hovered near the window as the sun started to lower in the sky, getting ready to head out. Reigen kept his eyes on Mob, watching the boy carefully. His mind was still all over the place with what happened and what he saw. 

“Dimple, can I ask you something?” he spoke suddenly. 

Said spirit pulled his gaze from the window. “Don’t you think you’ve asked enough?” 

Reigen cringed and shook his head. “It’s not like that, it's…” he paused a moment, trying to think of where to start. “Where do you think the monsters came from?” 

“The hellhounds?” He seemed to hum and think about it for a moment. “I’ve heard a bunch of crap. They all range from mad scientists' experiments to interdimensional rifts tearing open on the Earth's crust. As for what I believe?” He shrugged nonchalantly. “I have no idea.” 

Reigen fidgeted with the zipper on his jacket. “What exactly are espers capable of?” he asked quietly. “I don’t know too much about them.” 

Dimple was eyeing him now, with both suspicion and curiosity. “It depends on the esper,” he said. “Most of them are pretty mediocre, low-level telekinesis and parlor tricks. But, there are some powerful ones, like the kid.” He gestured to Mob before turning his attention back to Reigen. “Why are you asking?” 

Reigen fell silent for a second. There was a reason, but he wasn’t about to spill Mob’s secret to Dimple. Reigen was a conman and a liar, but he wasn’t a blabbermouth. Besides, he still wasn’t entirely convinced it was true. He’d need Mob to get better so he could possibly ask more about it. But after what he saw today, he started to doubt it less. 

“It’s nothing. Just curious.” 

Dimple looked like he wanted to press more on the subject, but held back from doing so. Several minutes later, the spirit slipped out, and all Reigen could do was hope he’d find what they needed. 

“Don’t worry, Mob. It’ll be okay. We’ll get you the medicine. You just gotta hang in there a little longer.” Reigen prayed the kid could hold out. He still looked rough, and the new injuries didn’t help. But somehow, he still looked like he was sleeping peacefully, and Reigen wondered what was on his mind. 

Then something else popped into his head. 

Wait, how was Dimple even going to get the medicine back here?

Chapter Text

“Give us back our New Year's money!”

“Ritsu!” 

“Stay out of this, brat!” 

“Brother!” 

Seasoning City: One week before the portal opened

“Shigeo?” 

A voice, familiar but distant. Almost muffled, like it was echoing down a long tunnel. 

“Shige, sweetie. Are you with me?” 

Mom…

His mother sat crouched on the floor before him, her hands were warm and gently rested on his shoulders. Shigeo sat on the couch, hunched forward with his head low, his eyes almost vacant. He hadn’t said a word since… 

“Your dad and Ritsu should be home from the hospital soon,” she said softly, a hint of exhaustion in her voice. “Aren’t you excited to see them?” Her eyes were just as tired as her voice. It’s been a rough couple of days, and the worry from it was etched clearly on her face. One son was in the hospital with a concussion, the other was nearly shutting down in front of her. 

Shigeo continued to sit in silence, his eyes fixed elsewhere. The worry on his mother’s face deepened into quiet distress. He hadn’t been handling this whole situation well at all. Though he didn’t speak, and his eyes were distant, she could still see it written all over his face. He blamed himself for all of this. 

She let out a soft sigh and reached up, gently brushing some of his dark hair aside. He barely reacted or even looked at her, only blinking slowly. He was closing himself off, shutting out the world around him, but he wasn’t completely gone. There was still a flicker of something behind his eyes, and she had hope he would bounce back. He was already doing better than on the first day. She’ll never forget the look on his face when they loaded Ritsu into the ambulance. 

The house was quieter than usual. Her boys were never too loud or rambunctious, but the silence now just felt heavy. It hung over them, almost suffocating every word and every breath. It was starting to get to her. 

When she wasn’t trying to coax anything out of Shigeo, she kept herself distracted so worry wouldn’t take over. She had already cleaned both his and Ritsu’s rooms, wanting the house to look nice once her son returned from the hospital. But it did nothing to calm the anxiety buzzing through her. 

“It’ll be nice to have us all together for dinner again,” she tried, only to go unanswered. 

She briefly closed her eyes, taking a grounding breath. She couldn’t fall apart. She had to be strong for her boys. 

“Shi–” 

The sound of the front door clicking caught her attention. Her breath caught in her throat as she quickly shot up onto her feet. Still, she remained by her eldest son’s side. Her posture was straight and tense. She was happy that they would all be together again, but a sense of fear had also made itself present. She was worried there would now be a rift between her two sons. One, she might not be able to mend. 

Dad and Ritsu slowly stepped into the house, Dad’s hands firmly placed on his youngest’s shoulders, guiding him into the entryway. The boy’s steps were cautious, but determined. He looked fragile, but was putting on a brave face. It was just like Ritsu. They took their time removing their shoes. Dad knelt beside Ritsu, asking if he needed help, but the young boy shook his head. “I’m fine, I can do it.” 

And he was fine. His head still hurt a little, but it wasn’t unbearable. The bright white bandages wrapped around his head were more annoying than painful now, making his head uncomfortably itchy. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to his parents babying and fussing over him. He just wanted to get the healing done so he could get back to school, and life could return to normal. 

Dad’s firm grasp guided him to the living room, where they stopped at the entryway. Ritsu’s eyes instantly landed on his brother. Shigeo still sat silently on the couch, gaze locked on the floor. However, he seemed to notice their presence as his dark eyes flicked towards Ritsu for half a second, before they settled back onto the hardwood floor. It was like he could barely look at his younger brother. 

Neither brother said anything, and a silence stretched between them. 

Their mother had tried to get Shigeo to visit his brother in the hospital, but he wouldn’t even step inside the room once they arrived. He sat out in the hallway instead, silent and distant. Ritsu tried not to let it get to him, telling himself that his brother was probably just overwhelmed, but it still hurt. More than his injury did. The hospital was boring, and he really missed his brother. 

Now, in the familiar comfort of the living room, he felt lost and confused. He also felt slight fear toward his brother. What had happened that day, and what he was capable of. He kept telling himself that it wasn’t his brother who did it. Shigeo would never hurt him. But there was also another fear lingering in his mind. The fear that their relationship was now forever changed. That things would never be normal again. 

When Mom visited yesterday, without Shigeo, she had quietly explained to Ritsu that his older brother hadn’t been speaking much. He wasn’t smiling or laughing or doing much of anything, just… existing. Shigeo had always been quiet, but he wasn’t an empty shell. Ritsu instantly worried about his older brother because that wasn’t like him at all. 

Ritsu swallowed and opened his mouth, but nothing came out. The words got caught with the lump in his throat. Before he could even make another attempt, his view of Shigeo was blocked as Mom came rushing towards him, a warm and hopeful smile on her face. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked, crouching closer to him, her hands clasped together. 

Ritsu turned his gaze to his mother and tried to give her a patient smile. “I’m fine, really. You don’t need to worry. I’m just a little tired, is all.” 

“Of course.” She returned the smile and gave his shoulder a soft squeeze. From the corner of his eye, Ritsu saw Dad snag her attention, tilting his head toward the dining area. Mom got the message immediately. 

“I’m gonna talk to Dad really quick, okay?” She gave Ritsu a gentle pat on the shoulder before straightening up and following her husband a few paces away, speaking in hushed tones. 

Ritsu tried not to listen too hard, but the silence of the room made it almost impossible. Still, he could only make out a few words in the quiet conversation. 

“Those other boys?” he heard Mom ask. It must be about the teenagers involved. Her tone was concerned but also irritated. Mom definitely wasn’t happy when she found out some teenagers had attacked them.

He hears Dad mention something about the hospital as well. So they really did end up there. Those jerks probably got it worse than he did. But somehow, it didn’t feel as satisfying as he thought it might. 

Ritsu stood awkwardly in the living room entryway, doing his best to tune out his parents’ whispered conversation. His eyes soon settled on his older brother once again. Shigeo sat motionless and looked zoned out, like he wasn’t all there. But Ritsu could tell there was a war going on in his mind. He could see it in the subtle tension in his shoulders or the occasional shaky breath he would let out. A war he was afraid his brother might lose. 

He shifted uncomfortably and nearly jolted when a firm hand once again came down on his shoulder. It was Dad this time, smiling softly at him. “Ritsu, do you want to sit down?” 

Ritsu looked up at his father and hesitated, before his eyes turned to the couch. To Shigeo. “Well, I…” 

The concern that came to Mom’s face was instant, her instincts kicking in the moment she sensed tension. “Whatever you feel like, Ritsu. It’s up to you.” There was a slight nervous reassurance in her voice. “We’re just glad you’re home.” 

Without missing a beat, she turned back toward the couch. “I’m going to take Shigeo up to bed,” She said, taking a few brisk steps back to her eldest son’s side. 

Dad furrowed his brow. “It’s still a bit early.” 

“I know,” she replied quietly, coaxing Shigeo to his feet with a gentle hand on his arm. “But he seems tired.” 

Truth be told, she wasn’t sure what else to do. She didn’t want to force her sons to talk or spend time together when they were both clearly on edge. But separating them like this didn’t feel right either. Would it really be helpful right now? It was just so stressful. Balancing her role as a mother to two hurting young boys. All she could do was hope. Hope that things would settle in a day or two, and the brothers would find their way back to each other. She didn’t want to push or force things too much. 

Ritsu didn’t say a word as he watched his mother take Shigeo upstairs without much of a fight. He'd felt a strange ache in his chest as he watched his brother go. It felt like sadness, but there was something else there as well. It felt like relief, and he hated it. He hated that part of him felt safer with his brother in another room. 

He didn’t want to be afraid. He wanted things to be normal like before, but there was a good chance that might never happen. Ritsu loved and admired his brother, but now, he wasn’t sure what he felt toward him. Was it fear? Resentment? Or maybe something worse? 

When his mom and Shigeo had long since disappeared, Ritsu sighed and slowly shuffled over to the couch, flopping down onto it with a soft thud. 

Upstairs, Mom gently coaxed Shigeo onto his futon. He sat down stiffly, while his mother murmured something about resting and possibly bringing him some dinner later, but he barely registered it. She encouraged him to lie down, still filling the air with light words and reassurances. 

Moments later, his bedroom door shut with a quiet click, and he was alone. 

He lay silent, staring up at the ceiling. His room was the same; it was a little cleaner now since Mom tidied it up. But the air felt thick and heavy. It felt like it was weighing on his chest and clogging his lungs, making it hard to breathe. 

He could still see it. His little brother curled up on the ground, blood on the pavement. Soft cries and Ritsu’s pained words. It hurts, brother. 

Shigeo rolled onto his side, pulling his blanket up further and curling in on himself. He drew in a shaky breath as tears finally began to rush to his eyes. He hadn’t cried once since the accident. His emotions came to a grinding halt, and his thoughts went numb. Now, something was finally cracking open, hitting him full force. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to no one. His words soon dissolved into quiet sobs. 

------

Ritsu stared blankly at his breakfast, absently pushing around bits of egg and rice with his chopsticks. His eyes would occasionally shift to the empty seat next to him. The one his brother usually sat in. 

His parents ate their breakfast silently. No one even mentioned Shigeo’s absence. It was like they were trying to pretend everything was fine, like somehow avoiding the subject would keep things from getting worse. But it bothered Ritsu quite a bit. He knew they just didn’t want to force his brother into anything, not after everything, but still. Shigeo should be with them. He didn’t join them for dinner last night either. 

He couldn’t take it anymore and finally broke the silence. “Is Shigeo not going to eat with us?” He tried to sound as neutral as possible. He didn’t want to sound upset or let them see how much it was getting to him. But his patience was wearing thin. 

His parents exchanged glances before Mom finally spoke up, trying to keep her tone light. “I’m sure he’s just still sleeping. You know how he likes to sleep in.” 

Ritsu stared down at his plate and held back a grumble. It was a cover, and he knew it. 

He finally set down his chopsticks and pushed his chair back, the legs scraping against the floor as he got to his feet. 

His parents both looked at him questioningly as he turned to walk away. “Ritsu, where are you going?” he heard Mom ask. 

“I’m not hungry,” he answered, heading out of the dining room and toward the stairs, quietly marching up them. 

He wasn’t angry, just a little tired and annoyed. So he didn’t stomp up the stairs like any other kid would. He was past that. He liked to think he was more mature than most kids. He was also relieved that his parents didn’t seem to follow and simply let him go. 

As he reached the top and walked toward his room, he found himself coming to a stop. He glanced over, realizing he had stopped outside his brother’s room. The door was shut, and only silence lingered beyond it. 

He stared at the shut door for several long seconds, trying to decide what to do. Should he knock? Should he check on his brother? 

He took a breath and clenched his fists, taking a few nervous steps toward the door. He slowly raised his fist to the door, ready to knock, but froze. His hand was hovering just an inch from the wood. He stood there, locked in place. All he could hear was the sound of his own unsure breaths. His knock never came. 

After a few more moments, he dropped his hand to his side. He felt a prickle of shame as he sighed softly, stepping back away from the door. He then turned and walked away, heading to his own room.

He had chickened out. 

Beyond the closed door, Shigeo lay in silence. He wasn’t sleeping. He was wide awake and had been for a long while. His restless thoughts were swirling in his mind, too loud and too vivid. Everything that happened was replaying repeatedly like an old videotape stuck on an endless loop. 

He slowly raised his hand, holding it up to the light beaming down from his ceiling. He flexed his fingers a few times. If he stared long enough, he could still see the blood on them. He could still feel it, warm and sticking to his skin uncomfortably. 

He would never leave his room again if it were up to him. But he knew Mom and Dad would never allow that. They would continue to tell him that everything was okay. What happened was just an accident, and it wasn’t his fault. But Shigeo knew better. He didn’t want to hear that everything was fine. Because it wasn’t fine, he didn’t want to have another accident. 

He began to feel as though he had no control anymore. That his powers no longer felt like part of him, but something else entirely. Something he was losing his grip on. He was scared. Scared of what he was capable of. What he might do next, accident or not. He never wanted to hurt Ritsu. He never wanted to hurt anyone. But it was starting to feel like that didn’t matter anymore. 

The silhouette of his outstretched hand blurred as tears came to his eyes yet again. His chest ached with hopelessness and fear. He felt completely lost. He didn’t want to feel like this and wished it would just go away, disappear like a bad dream. He wanted something to change. But deep down, he knew if anything was going to change, it had to start with him. 

He exhaled softly and let his arm drop back to his chest, his fingers curling tightly around his shirt. He just needed time… 

A soft knock broke the silence. It sounded hesitant and unsure. Shigeo’s heart leaped in his chest. He didn’t want to see anyone right now. 

“Shigeo?” a soft voice called beyond the door. It was Mom. When he didn’t answer, she spoke up again. “I’m coming in, okay?” 

The door opened and shut gently as Mom stepped inside. Her footsteps were careful and light as she approached her son. She could see the silent tears in his eyes that had yet to fall. She wanted to instantly crouch down and scoop her son up into a tight hug, but she kept herself from doing so. Instead, she kept a calm and gentle approach, not wanting to overwhelm him. 

“I just wanted to check on you,” she said as she slowly knelt beside his futon. “I take it you aren’t hungry right now?” 

Shigeo still didn’t answer, only shifting a little and pulling his blanket tighter around him. 

She offered a small but sad smile. “You don’t have to talk. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

He felt the tears coming again after that. He wasn’t okay, and he couldn’t hide it anymore. They finally spilled over as he shook his head in a pitiful motion. Warm tears stained the pillow beneath his cheek as his shoulders began to tremble. 

His mother’s instincts kicked in immediately. She moved a bit closer, resting a gentle hand on his head and letting her fingers brush through his hair. She whispered to him that it was all okay. But it wasn’t okay… Nothing felt okay. 

His throat felt tight, and it took a couple of tries, but he finally spoke up after days of silence. “I-I didn’t mean to,” he croaked. “I didn’t mean to hurt him...” 

She could feel her heart clench, but she stayed strong for her son. “I know,” she murmured. “I know, Shige.” 

Her touch and words remained soothing and patient. For the first time in days, he didn’t feel so alone. 

------

It had been a few more days, and the house was still just as tense. Shigeo had started to come out of his room more, but usually only for the bare essentials, like a trip to the kitchen or to use the bathroom, before he would disappear again. He and Ritsu still had yet to say a word to each other. 

Mom tried to keep things normal, but it was clear she was deeply worried. Dad seemed distraught, uncertain, and even helpless, like he didn’t know how to help either of his sons anymore. And Ritsu… He still wasn’t sure how he felt. His thoughts and feelings were jumbled and messy. But beneath all the confusion, he knew one thing for sure. He missed his brother. He missed talking to him, hanging out with him, just being in his life. His initial fear was slowly melting away, as the loss of his big brother started to hurt more. 

He sat cross-legged at the coffee table in the living room, combing over some leftover schoolwork he had to catch up on. He also just needed something to focus on, something that made sense. Though thinking too hard still made his head hurt a bit. 

He did not want to fall behind and was already dreading the workload he’d get after returning to school. He also wasn’t looking forward to the stares and questions about what happened and why he’s been absent. The thought of it made his stomach twist.  

He huffed, reaching up and picking at the bandages around his head. It still felt tight and itched like crazy. He grumbled quietly to himself, tugging at one edge. 

“Ritsu!” 

He jolted with surprise when his mother’s sharp tone reached his ears, his hand instantly pulling away from the wrap. She stood in the entryway, hands on her hips. Caught red-handed. “How many times have I told you not to mess with your bandage?” she scolded. 

He slumped forward, guilt flashing across his face. “It’s itchy…” he muttered, trying not to whine. 

Her expression softened a bit. “Well, you’re getting it off tomorrow,” she reminded with a sigh. “You just have to hang in there a little longer, okay?” 

“Fine…” Ritsu huffed, not bothering to hide the irritation in his voice as he looked back at his papers. He heard his mother shuffling around the room, most likely tidying up again. She picked up stray cups and blankets he had tossed about. Ritsu had been camping out in the living room a lot since there wasn’t much else to do, and he was stuck at home. Still, it wasn’t like he left the place a huge mess. He knew his mom was cleaning to keep busy, just like how he used schoolwork to keep his mind occupied. 

He tapped his pencil against the edge of the table, his eyes occasionally drifting to his mother, then other parts of the room, like the entryway, then the stairs, as if waiting for someone else to enter. 

“Has Shige come out yet today?” he asked suddenly, shifting his eyes back to his homework. 

His mother halted momentarily after picking up a throw blanket from the floor. It wasn’t long, but long enough for Ritsu to notice. “He came down earlier for lunch, but you were napping,” she informed him. 

“Ah…” he exhaled softly. He rolled his pencil against the table in a rhythmic motion. “I’ve just been worried.”

“I know,” she echoed his sigh, folding the blanket neatly and placing it over the back of the couch. “We all have been.” 

Ritsu sat back, his gaze cast downward. The silence stretched on for a long moment. When he finally spoke up again, his voice cracked with guilt. “This is all my fault.” 

Mom instantly froze once more, all her attention now on her youngest son. “Ritsu,” she started, her voice was gentle. “This is not your fault.” 

“Yes, it is!” he snapped, nearly flinching at the sound of his own voice. He felt he should stop then and there, but he trudged on, the words spilling out. “I was the one who picked a fight with those teenagers. Brother was the one who said we should just leave. He tried to pull me along. I-I made them mad, and Shigeo got hurt, and then…” he abruptly stopped, falling apart completely as a quiet sob threatened to escape his throat. He clenched his fists tightly in his lap and lowered his head further as shame radiated from him. 

Mom quickly dropped whatever task she was using to distract herself and went right to her son’s side, kneeling down next to him on the floor. “Ritsu…” she spoke softly, trying to get him to look at her. “I know it's been hard, but you can’t blame yourself. Just like I told Shigeo, not to blame himself. It was all just an accident.” She put an arm around him, giving him a gentle squeeze. He didn’t resist, but didn’t lean in either. His face twisted into a frustrated pout, his hands still tightly gripped at his pants. 

“If I had just listened to him,” he mumbled, brows furrowed, “if I had just kept my mouth shut, none of this would have happened.” 

She pulled him a bit closer, her voice still soft and warm. “You were just trying to protect your brother, and he was trying to protect you. You’re both just kids. You couldn’t have known things would turn out like this. You’re not responsible for the choices other people made.” 

Ritsu sat silent for a moment, his eyes glistening as he blinked back tears. He sniffled softly, wiping his face on his sleeve. He eventually looked toward her, his pout turning to something else, and he couldn’t keep the tremble from his voice. “What if he never talks to me again? He’s already avoiding me… He wouldn’t even look at me.” 

Mom took a second to let him catch his breath before she spoke again. “Don’t worry. That’s not going to happen. I promise,” she said, giving him a warm, patient smile. Her tone was confident. Like she knew this for a fact. “Shigeo will come around. He just needs time. He’s already getting there.” She gave his shoulder one last reassuring squeeze. 

A small but shaky smile finally broke out on Ritsu’s face. Mom seemed so sure, and he trusted her. He just hoped she was right and that his brother would come around sooner rather than later. 

------

Mom made him go to school today. He didn’t feel ready. Then again, he probably wouldn’t feel ready for the rest of his life. But Mom had been gentle, yet firm, telling him he was starting to fall behind. He regretted coming out of his room. He should have hidden more. He wished he were still under his blankets right now. 

Still, Dad said he was proud of him before he left. He gave him a pat on the head and told him that he was taking a huge step forward and that it was good for him, which made Shigeo smile just a bit. Though that smile dropped the moment he stepped into math class, and the teacher gave him a fat stack of makeup work. 

Ritsu got to stay home again, though. He finally got his bandages off, but Mom said he had a couple more days before he could go back to school. Shigeo already knew Ritsu wasn’t happy about it. He saw it in his brother's disappointed and irritated look, as well as how he slumped at the news. The brothers shared a look as Shigeo headed for the door. It didn’t last long, and no words were spoken, but it was the first time he had looked his younger brother in the eye in days—a crack in the wall. 

Though he dreaded going back, and the day dragged on slowly, school wasn’t as bad as expected. No one asked questions or looked at him strangely. Then again, most of the school hardly remembered his name or even knew he existed. For once, he was grateful for that. The questions would most likely be saved for Ritsu. He’s the one who had all the friends. 

There was one downside to the quiet school day, though. He was now lugging around a backpack full of makeup work for Ritsu and himself to take care of, since they both missed several days, both for very different reasons. His usually light backpack now felt like it was filled with bricks, weighing heavily on his shoulders. 

As he left the school yard and meandered down the street, Shigeo realized he didn’t want to go home just yet. The thought of walking through his front door, seeing his brother look at him warily, unreadable, and hearing his parents greet him a little too cheerfully, like nothing was wrong. It made him feel nauseous. 

So, instead of going his usual route, he decided to take a shortcut, veering off into another direction entirely. Well, not so much a shortcut. It was a longer way home. He had no specific route in mind. He just wanted to wander and be somewhere else. 

He took his time exploring the streets, letting his mind wander. He hadn’t left the house in days, so the fresh air was actually quite nice. The sun was still high in the sky and surprisingly warm. The roads were busy but not too loud, and the sound was welcoming after sitting in endless silence for so long. The distant sound of traffic, background conversations from passersby, and the gentle wind all felt comforting. 

He kept his eyes down at his feet as his legs carried him through town, turning in random directions, but still making sure he knew where he was, keeping a mental map in the back of his mind. Shigeo knew the city well, thanks to many trips with Mom and Dad to run errands or have a nice family outing. So even as he wandered, he wasn’t worried about getting lost. 

Eventually, he ended up on one of the busier side streets. It was lined with small local shops, a convenience store or two, and a few low-rise office buildings. Shigeo lifted his head, letting his eyes look into the window of a nearby shop as he slowly strolled by. The inside was filled with colorful merchandise and seasonal displays. But Shigeo’s eyes were caught on something else, his reflection. 

He exhaled softly, slowing just a bit as he took in his appearance. He still looked like himself, with the same dark hair, tired eyes, and neutral expression. But for a while, he didn’t feel like himself. He felt strange, like he was looking at someone he used to know, but his reflection was still him. 

It was okay, though. Things were starting to change. He had started feeling a bit better over the past few days and could breathe more easily. He desperately wanted things to return to normal and knew they were getting there. But still, something felt off… He tore his gaze away from the window, his reflection vanishing as he passed the shop.

The sound of a door closing caught his attention next, as an older woman exited a building up ahead. She was shoving something into her purse, a note or card of some kind, maybe. She also had a smile on her face and seemed full of energy. Shigeo heard the woman mutter something to herself about feeling so much lighter as she passed by him. He turned his head and watched as she walked down the street, practically with a spring in her step, like some invisible weight had been lifted from her shoulders. 

His curiosity was piqued as he turned his head back to the building from which she emerged. His eyes wandered up to the sign near the top of the plain-looking building. It read Spirits & Such Consultation . Shigeo tightly gripped the straps on his backpack. He wanted to step forward, as the name seemed to pull at him. 

Spirits. Consultation. It flooded into his mind like a rushing river. A psychic. Someone who dealt with the same kinds of things he did. Someone who might understand. He remained still as his eyes fixated on the sign, a gentle breeze brushing past. 

Should I…?

Shigeo then bit his lip as a nervousness ran through him. He had never met another psychic before. Also, the idea of stepping into a stranger's office, asking for help, and admitting he was worried about his control felt scary. Even a little embarrassing. A small voice in the back of his mind whispered that he should just leave, don’t bother someone else. 

But, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t push the sign or the idea out of his mind. This person had to be a great psychic, right? Whoever they were, maybe they could help him. Perhaps they knew exactly what he was going through and could give him the advice and knowledge to move on and better control his powers. Maybe they could teach him not to be so afraid of himself. 

Shigeo swallowed hard against the nervous lump in his throat and tried to keep himself from trembling. There’s nothing to be scared of, he told himself as fear still nestled uncomfortably in his ribcage. He just had to go for it. He let out a shaky breath and straightened up just a bit. He could do this. He needed to do this. 

With newfound confidence, which was rare for the young esper, he took a purposeful step forward, keeping his eyes on the sign. Then another, and another. 

His steps were slow, and the world around him seemed to fade as he kept his focus forward. His mind was already racing with different thoughts. What should he say? How should he introduce himself? Should he explain everything?  Instead, he tried to focus on his steps, wanting to calm the storm brewing in his mind. That is, until someone stepped out in front of him, and he almost ran into them. He managed to stop himself in time before he crashed into this person, his shoes scuffing against the pavement. 

“E-Excuse me,” he muttered softly, bowing his head slightly as he stepped to the side in an effort to move around his roadblock. But the person stepped in the same direction, blocking his path again. It was a common mistake; people do that all the time. He quickly brushed it off and stepped aside again, only for the person to mirror his movements again. 

Shigeo’s attention was finally switched as he glanced up at the person with wide, confused eyes. Glaring down at him was a boy he didn’t recognize—a teenager, most likely in high school. This instantly put the young boy on edge as his shoulders tensed. 

Shigeo felt something akin to fear surge through him, as he was brought back to last week, when some teenagers cornered him and Ritsu. The panic, the yelling, the blood. He tried to remain calm; this was probably nothing, but the teen had yet to speak to him. So, he once again made a move. 

“I-I’m sorry, I need to get by,” Shigeo squeaked out, more shy and nervous. The entrance was just feet away. So close. He could make it.

As he stepped around, the teenager didn’t stop him this time. There was a slight flash of relief on his face, only for it to vanish a second later as another figure moved into his path from the side. Then a second. Then a third. It didn’t take long for his path to be blocked entirely as five teenage boys halted him from going further. Their formation seemed deliberate, and his escape route was gone. Shigeo’s heart dropped. 

“You’re not going anywhere, kid,” one said. His voice was harsh, and so was the look on his face. All the boys seemed to be wearing the same outfit as well. A dark, buttoned-up school uniform from some high school Shigeo didn’t recognize. They all wore the same cold glare, but one or two had smug grins on their faces. Shigeo didn’t understand. He didn’t know any of these boys. So why were they looking at him like this? Why did they seem upset? Almost angry?

“I-I don’t…” he stammered, his eyes darting to the many faces looking down at him.

“You’re the kid who beat up our friends, right?” one said, his tone accusatory. “Put them in the hospital?” 

Shigeo’s breath caught in his throat. “N-No… I didn’t mean—” He took a cautious step back, his eyes shifting to peer around the teenagers and look for a way out. 

“Don’t play dumb with us, brat!” another snapped. He was taller and broader than the others, maybe a second-year. The teenager took a step forward, and Shigeo flinched, taking another step back. 

Their eyes seemed to hone in on his movements. “Oh, look. He’s scared,” one sneered. 

“He should be,” another chucked. 

“They said it was some elementary school kid with a stupid haircut and a blank face,” the taller one continued. “You seem to fit that bill perfectly.” 

The young boy paled, his heart pounding as the large boy narrowed his eyes at him. “They said you were a monster, but you just look like a pathetic little shit to me.” 

Shigeo slowly and shakily shook his head; his fingers twitched at his sides. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” 

“So it was you!” Their faces twisted from sneers into something worse, something that promised pain. “Well, we’re gonna make you pay for it, brat.” 

Each one took a step toward the young boy, and Shigeo was immediately looking for a way out. There were some adults around, but not many, and none of them seemed to notice what was happening around them. No one was paying attention to the group of teens circling a small elementary schooler. He couldn’t run forward into the building he was headed for; they would grab him instantly. He could turn and run the other way, but the truth was, Shigeo was not very fast or athletic. They’d catch him quickly. 

He felt like a trapped animal, his breath quickening with frantic fear, putting his heart in a stranglehold. His hands began to shake, and he tightly gripped his backpack straps to try to stop them. Just run. Don’t use your powers. Don’t lose control again. He could feel his aura bubbling up with his rising panic. 

His eyes flicked around, looking for some way out, when he noticed they were right near an alleyway. He could easily dart down it and lose the boys, or maybe duck down behind something in the grimy passageway and hide. It still wasn’t the best plan, but it was the only one he had. He glanced back at the teenagers before suddenly taking off, immediately darting down the dark alley. He got maybe a second of a head start before the teens realized what had happened. 

With their delinquent minds catching up, they bolted after the boy, yelling after him. Their angry voices echoed against the tight walls around him, as did his breaths. The tall walls cast shadows as the alley seemed to swallow the light around him. It felt like they were closing in around him. 

He couldn’t run well; he never could. But he was small and could hide. He just needed to lose them first. Put enough distance between him and them so he could slip behind or under something. 

Please, he thought. Just go away. I don’t want to hurt anyone. Not again.

He ran as fast as his little legs would take him, but his hefty backpack slowed him down, thumping heavily against his back with every step. He could hear the pounding footsteps of the group getting closer. They were faster and stronger, catching up quickly. 

Mom would be mad—really mad, but he had to shed off his backpack. He slipped his arms out quickly and let the bag drop heavily to the ground with a dull thud. All his supplies, his and Ritsu’s homework, and the bento box his mom packed for him were left behind. He could always come back for it. Soon, all he could hear was his own heavy breathing and the not-so-distant calls of the teens yelling at him to stop. He wished he could. 

He weaved through several backways as the concrete blurred beneath his hurried steps. His legs burned as sharp pains began to strike him in the chest with every breath. He had to hide; he couldn’t keep going. 

He emerged from an alley, skidding to a momentary stop on the sidewalk when he noticed a half-built building across the street. It was a construction site, roped off with warning signs for the general public's safety. He knew he wasn’t supposed to go into construction sites, but fear and adrenaline took over, clearing all rational thought from his head. He could already hear the heavy footsteps of the high schoolers growing closer. Too close. 

With his mind made up, he rushed across the street. He swiftly slid under the construction tape and warning signs rather ungracefully, stumbling onto the gravel. He ended up scraping his knee, registering the sharp sting, but he didn’t have time to care. Instead, he scrambled to his feet and scurried into the half-built building without looking back. 

It was dark inside; only the sun's light lit the inside through unfinished walls and windows. The air felt almost thick and faintly smelled like concrete and sawdust. He could hear the boys approaching outside and quickly looked around for a place to hide. A second later, he spotted a stairwell and darted down to the basement level. It was even darker down there, which made it perfect for hiding. 

As he stumbled down the stairs, barely keeping himself from falling, his eyes quickly scanned the dark area. They then landed on a stack of wooden pallets in the room's far end. Without hesitation, he sprinted over, sliding behind the stack to hide. He crouched low, leaning against the pallets, his hand on his chest. His heart was still pounding as he tried to catch his breath. His legs and hands were shaking, and he could still feel the sting and warm blood trickling down his knee. 

He closed his eyes, trying to calm his nerves and take a few slow, deep breaths to relax. After several seconds of no sound, footsteps, or voices, he slowly peeked out from behind his hiding spot. His eyes scanned the staircase, partially lit by the outside light. No one was on it, and no one was coming down. It looked clear. 

He leaned back again, letting out a sigh of relief. He had lost them. He was safe. At least, he thought he was. 

The moment his shoulders relaxed, a tight grip suddenly enveloped him. Someone had snuck around the stack's other side and securely snagged the young esper in their arms. He gasped as he was yanked into the crushing grip. He was caught. 

“Over here, guys! I found him!” a voice called.

Shigeo instantly began to struggle in his captor’s grip, but the frail boy was no match for the bigger, stronger delinquent. He was practically trapped in a bear hug, his arms were pinned at his sides, and all he could do was kick and squirm. 

“Please, let me go!” he begged, fear in his soft voice. 

He heard the other teenagers' arrogant laughs and chuckles echo in the dim basement. The sound sent a chill up his spine as they descended the stairs to meet their friend. He could hardly see them in the shadows, only making out silhouettes in the low light. 

“Please,” he tried once more, his voice trembling. “I-I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.” 

“That’s too damn bad,” the tall one snarled, taking a step forward. “Let's get this over with.” 

Shigeo’s heart dropped to his stomach, and he felt tears prick his eyes as a horribly cold feeling washed over him. They were serious. They were going to hurt him. Maybe even worse. The way they looked at him angrily, the way they advanced without hesitation. He wanted to mutter another plea or apology, but the words would not come, strangled by fear.  

As their shadows loomed closer, Shigeo’s mind began to race. He had to make a choice. He wouldn’t use his powers. No, not again. He just needed to get away. He needed to get out of this somehow. He clenched his jaw when the idea struck him. He had to get out. 

Desperate to stop whatever was about to happen, Shigeo did the first thing his panicked mind could think of. He leaned forward and roughly bit down on his captor’s hand, hard. The teenager instantly yelped in pain and dropped the boy. “You little brat!” he shouted as Shigeo tumbled to the floor. He was free, now he just had to get up and…

Before he could scramble to his feet, however, a swift kick struck him right in the ribs. Shigeo instantly realized he had made a mistake. He had only upset them more, and now he was in a very vulnerable position. 

With the air knocked out of him and a choking cry escaping him, he fell hard onto his back against the cold concrete. He barely had time to register the pain before another foot came down on his stomach, then another into his side. He curled in on himself, helpless against the brutal onslaught of attacks. Another hit would come before he could even think about getting up or moving. 

They kicked, they punched, they pulled his hair, and yanked him around like wild animals fighting over a carcass, hurling insults and cruel laughter his way. They were hurting him. They were beating him, they were going to kill him. 

He could feel blood drip from his nose and taste it in his mouth as it dribbled past his lips. He cried and begged for them to stop, even apologizing every time he could get a breath in, but his pleas were ignored. The words soon spilled out into broken sobs and coughs. He could apologize all he wanted, but it was clear they wouldn't stop until they were satisfied. And Shigeo was sure they wouldn’t be satisfied until he was dead. 

Their laughter and sneers soon faded out, like he was sinking underwater. All he could hear now was his heart pounding in his ears. 

He was going to die. 

His vision started to grow fuzzy around the edges, and even the sharp pain in his body seemed to dull, his limbs feeling tingly and numb. Everything felt distant, like he was fading. 

Deep down, though, he could still feel something stirring. His powers surged through him, pulsing just beneath his skin, desperate to protect him. It was almost instinctual, yet even now, weak and scared, Shigeo gritted his teeth and held them back. He clung to the last little sliver of control he had. He didn’t even pull up a barrier to protect himself. He wouldn’t use them. He wouldn’t lose control again.  

He managed to mumble one last broken apology, but he couldn’t hear what the teenagers said, if they said anything at all. All he could hear now was distorted, distant echoes and a high-pitched ringing in his ears. He couldn’t even see the twisted smiles on their faces anymore. Just the dark silhouettes of monsters who did far worse than Shigeo ever did to their friends. His mistake was nothing compared to this cruelty. 

The last thing he saw through the haze was the glint of a pocket knife being drawn before everything went black. 

------

The first thing he registered was the pain. A soft cry escaped him as he instinctively tried to move, only to be met with sharper, stabbing aches. His whole body hurt, but he was alive, somehow. 

The second thing he registered was a strange sound. It filled the area around him with a low, otherworldly hum. It was like a mix of harsh wind with a deep, static buzz, vibrating in the air. It was unlike any sound he had ever heard. 

He winced and whined once more as he finally forced his eyes open. His vision was blurry at first, but soon cleared up enough for him to realize he was lying on his side. The floor was cold and uncomfortable, causing his battered body to tremble. He could see his arms outstretched in front of him, covered in bruises and dried blood. The room was still dark, but not as suffocatingly dark as before. 

A strange glow filled the space around him—a mixture of deep red and violet, casting a shifting pattern over the cracked walls and floors. The movements were like water, flowing and rippling across the surface in slow, hypnotic waves. It felt almost alive somehow. 

Shigeo managed to lift his head a bit, letting his eyes scan the area in front of him. The basement still looked the same, but there was some damage. Shigeo knew exactly what that meant. He had lost control again. Despite the chaos that most likely took place, the structure of the half-built building somehow remained intact. 

Wood beams and concrete pillars still stood, though most of them were cracked and splintered. Dust, chunks of broken concrete, and debris were scattered on the floor like a brutal storm had passed through. A few metal rods stuck out of the walls at odd angles, appearing warped. 

But despite all this, the building had not collapsed. More good news, no teenagers were in sight. The young boy hoped they got away in time. He couldn’t live with himself if he knew he had hurt someone again. 

Shigeo slowly got his arms underneath him and managed to push himself up, breathing shallow and ragged. Tears filled his eyes as more pain shot through his body. He sniffled softly and shakily sat on his knees. Something on the floor caught his eye as he blinked through the tears. It was the pocket knife the teens had pulled out, glinting in the strange light. It lay discarded and forgotten, but had no traces of blood. Good. 

He gently wiped his eyes and slowly turned his head, only to freeze instantly. On the wall behind him was a swirling vortex of energy, etched into the wall like a wound torn through reality itself. It ebbed and flowed, spinning and waving, as it pulsed with energy. Reds, blacks, blues, and violets rippled outward in slow, spiraling currents, moving with a hypnotic rhythm. Colors bled into one another, and the whole thing felt… alive. 

The ominous glow and the strange sounds he heard were coming from this anomaly. Cracks had formed on the wall around it, reaching out like dark veins. The light from it bathed the room in shifting hues, casting long shadows that made the area feel unstable. 

Shigeo had no idea what he was looking at or how this strange thing had come about. Still, curiosity overtook the pain he was feeling. He slowly pushed himself to his feet, wincing slightly at his aches and bruises. His eyes were fixated on the peculiar swirling energy on the wall. 

He took a breath, sharp and painful in his lungs, and slowly walked toward it. It was almost like he was in a trance. He forgot about the pain and even what had happened to him for a moment. That his mouth still tasted of blood, and that he had almost been killed. He stopped just before it and continued to watch the colors, mesmerized by them. They reflected in his wide eyes, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across his pale, dirty-smudged face. He then slowly raised a trembling hand and reached for the energy, wanting to touch it and know what it felt like. Or maybe just to see if it was actually real. 

As soon as his fingertips brushed against the swirling reds, a searing pain shot through them like lightning. Shigeo let out a sharp hiss and immediately yanked his hand back on instinct, pulling it close to his chest. The pain was unexpected and vicious, like touching a stove that was too hot. 

He looked down and slowly unfurled his hand to examine the damage. The tips of his index, middle, and ring fingers were raw and pink, the skin already starting to blister. It stung like hell, sharp and deep. Whatever this was, it wasn’t just strange and mysterious. It was dangerous.  

He glanced back at the swirling phenomenon before taking a few steps back, still cradling his burnt hand. He sucked in a breath before he turned on his heel and ran. He quickly limped back up the basement stairs, not daring to look back. He rushed out of the ruined building, the calm evening wind hitting him in the face, and the setting sun bathing him in a soft glow. He didn’t stop running until the building was out of sight. 

Back in the silent, dark basement, the soft hum grew deeper. Then, a large, clawed, skeletal foot emerged from the swirling light, scraping against the concrete floor. A low, unnatural growl reverberated off the broken walls. 

Something had come through.

Chapter Text

Seasoning City: One hour after the portal opened

“Where is he?” 

Mom was anxious, Ritsu could tell. Worry was clear in her voice, and he could always recognize the signs. She would often pace around when she was nervous, hands twisting together like she didn’t know what to do with them. She had every right to be worried, though. Shigeo still hadn’t come home yet, and it was getting late.  

“I’m sure everything is alright,” Dad said gently, doing his best to reassure her as he trailed behind her. 

Mom didn’t seem so convinced, shooting him an exasperated glance. “You don’t know that. He should have been home by now!” 

Ritsu sat quietly on the couch and watched his parents meander around the living room frantically. His mother radiated with worry and anxiety while his father did what he could to calm her, but there was a hint of anxiety in his own movements. He seemed tense and uncertain.  

The young boy sighed softly as the TV droned on in the background. His parents’ nervous energy was starting to rub off on him as well; his hands were clasped together and fidgeting restlessly. Shigeo should have been home almost two hours ago. Yet there was no sign of him. Ritsu worried for his older brother. 

Where was he? 

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud, attention-grabbing chime from the television; the words ‘ breaking news’ flashed across the screen in bright, bold characters. Ritsu tore his gaze from his parents and turned toward the TV. A newscaster appeared on screen, her face and tone serious. Not at all cheerful like it usually was. 

“We have breaking news coming to you live,” she began quickly. “A mysterious phenomenon had occurred not too long ago this evening near the business district of the city. Witnesses described hearing what sounded like an explosion; however, no visual evidence has been found to support this claim. There have been no sightings of fire, smoke, or even a blast site.”

Ritsu leaned forward a bit, narrowing his eyes as he listened in. 

“Citizens in the area also described a rumbling or shaking, believing it to be an earthquake, but curiously, the phenomenon seemed to only be in a one-mile radius. The city’s monitoring systems have recorded no seismic activity, and areas outside that radius were unaffected. Police and fire units are investigating the area, but so far, no clear source has been identified.”

On the TV, it cut to clips of officers and firefighters searching the area, as well as speaking with confused civilians. They looked lost as if they were searching for something that didn’t exist. 

Ritsu gritted his teeth, his hands tightly gripped the fabric of his pants. The footage was unsettling for sure; whatever had happened didn’t seem normal. It sounded dangerous, and he just hoped his brother didn’t get caught in any of that.

Still, it seemed strange. If it were an earthquake, it would have rumbled the whole city, right? Not just several blocks. An explosion made sense, but wouldn’t there be evidence of said explosion? Billowing smoke, busted-up buildings, and general destruction? But there was nothing. 

Ritsu was snapped from these thoughts when he heard his mother gasp sharply. “Shigeo!” she cried. 

His head instantly swiveled toward the sound just in time to see his mother rushing toward the front door. Shigeo stumbled inside as Mom quickly ushered him past the entryway and toward the kitchen. Ritsu didn’t even hear the door open. He only caught a glimpse of his brother as they passed by, but he saw enough to get an idea of what had happened. 

Shigeo looked awful. Dirt coated his rumpled school clothes, and his backpack was missing. His face was also smudged and bruised, fresh marks blooming across his skin. Faint trails of blood streaked from his nose and mouth, flaking at the edges. It looked like he was holding back tears, his eyes wide and shimmering. 

Ritsu instantly jumped to his feet but froze in place. He made no effort to follow them or even speak a word. He just stood there, watching from across the room, feeling utterly useless. 

“Can you please grab the first aid kit?” Mom asked Dad, though it sounded more like an urgent demand than a request. 

Dad nodded without hesitation and took off down the hall. Meanwhile, Mom guided Shigeo to the dining table and encouraged him to sit down with a gentle push on his shoulders. Shigeo dropped onto the chair heavily. 

“Shigeo, what happened?” Mom asked, leaning close. Her voice was a mix of anger and worry. “Who did this to you?” 

Shigeo didn’t answer her; he couldn’t even look at her. Instead, he seemed to curl in on himself more. He hunched forward, his head hung low, and his arms folded across his stomach. It was as if he wanted to just disappear.  

Mom crouched in front of him, placing a hand under his chin, her touch light. “Shige, sweetie, look at me,” she quietly requested. Shigeo finally lifted his head just a little to look at his mother, meeting her eyes. The young boy was trembling with each shaky breath he drew in. He sniffled softly, his eyes glistening with fresh tears. 

“Honey!” Mom called, signaling Dad as she glanced toward the hallway. 

“I’ve got it!” Dad responded as he rushed back in, carrying the small first aid box in his hand. He set it on the table and quickly snapped it open to sort through supplies. He pulled out antiseptics, ointments, and bandages while Mom continued to look over Shigeo, gently brushing dirt from his cheeks. 

Mom’s eyes drifted down as she scanned his arms, her hands lightly brushing over the dirt and fresh bruises. Then her eyes widened with slight alarm when she noticed something. She took his hands in hers, and that’s when she saw it. The burns. Angry, red marks across his fingertips.

“Shige… are these burns? Did someone burn you?” Her voice was quiet and filled with disbelief. The young boy once again did not answer his mother, keeping his eyes low, but she already knew this was no accident. How could someone hurt a child like this? 

Mom began to rummage through the items Dad had pulled out, her movements hurried and her jaw tight. It was clear she was angry. As she dabbed some antiseptic on a hand towel, her voice grew louder, tinged with frustration and outrage. "I'm calling the police. Someone did this to him. Someone hurt him!" 

Dad was quickly by her side, placing a soft hand on her arm. “They won’t be able to do anything unless Shigeo talks to them. He needs to tell them what happened,” he informed her. 

Unfortunately, Dad was right. They would need more info, and Shigeo definitely wasn’t in the mood to talk right now. Ritsu could see it all over his face. Mom could see it, too; they all could. Right now, Shigeo was somewhere else entirely. They weren’t going to get anything out of him, not yet.  

Mom let out a quiet sigh, trying to calm her nerves. Instead of letting her anger take over, she focused on caring for her fragile boy. With steady hands, she crouched close and began to gently clean him up. Shigeo hardly flinched as the alcohol touched his scrapes and wounds. It definitely stung, but it was like he didn’t even feel it. Like the physical hurt had been drowned out by something deeper. 

It was like the other day when he was shutting down. His eyes were low and distant; he made hardly any sound or movement other than his trembling. Slowly, his gaze shifted toward Ritsu, who still stood idly by the couch. The younger boy’s posture was tense, and his hands were balled into fists. He didn’t need to ask what happened; he already knew who was responsible for this. 

Shigeo’s eyes drifted back down to the floor, and he sat silently as Mom worked to clean him up. He was slipping into that quiet place again, the place he went to when it all became too much. He was fighting another shutdown. 

------

That night, as Shigeo slowly came to his senses and the fog cleared, he found himself lying on his futon, his body curled slightly, alone in the dark once again. He was starting to feel the ache in his body again as his bandages rubbed against his skin uncomfortably. 

He felt horrible. Not just because of what happened to him but because he took attention away from his younger brother, who deserved it way more than he did. Mom and Dad hovered around him as if he were the victim when, deep down, he knew he was the one who had started all of this. Ritsu was hurt first, and it was because of him that Ritsu was injured. Ritsu was the one who should be comforted and looked after. Not him; he didn’t deserve it. 

A few knocks at his door pulled him from his thoughts. It wasn’t Mom's; they weren’t soft enough. They weren’t tentative enough to be Ritsu’s. It was more firm and casual, which meant it had to be Dad. The door slowly creaked open, and the hall light flooded into his dark room. Dad usually didn’t wait for a response; he tended just to waltz in. Shigeo didn’t care too much, though. 

His father stepped in, offering a tired smile, and flicked on the light. As he closed the door behind him, Shigeo noticed a plate of food in his hand. “You want to try and eat something, kiddo?” he asked as he slowly approached and kneeled down next to his son. “Mom made katsudon.” 

Shigeo blinked at the dish, then let his gaze drift up to his father for a moment before tugging his blanket up and partially hiding his face behind the fabric. “I’m not hungry…” he muttered. 

Dad was still smiling, but this time it looked somewhat sad. “That’s okay, bud. You can eat when you’re ready.” He then gently set the plate aside but didn’t get up and leave yet. He remained by Shigeo’s side. 

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” he tried, keeping his tone gentle and even. “We couldn’t get much out of you earlier.” Though it was clear Dad wanted him to talk, he wasn’t pushing it. Shigeo could tell. He knew Dad just wanted answers and wanted to understand.  

Still, the question made him tense up a bit, but he refused to let himself fall back into a distant state. Dad noticed and slowly reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, buddy. When you’re ready, alright?” 

He got ready to get to his feet and give his son some space, only for Shigeo’s hand to shoot out from under his blanket and snag the edge of his sleeve. “Dad…” Shigeo mumbled softly. 

The man halted, settling back down as Shigeo finally pulled the blanket from his face. There was a long pause before he spoke, but once he started, the words poured out quickly. He told his father everything that happened. About the group of teenagers that tried to corner him, chased him, and eventually beat him. He told his father that they were friends of the teenagers before, the ones who attacked him and Ritsu. 

As Shigeo went on, more tears filled his eyes, and his words began to break. His hands shook as tears finally spilled over and raced down his cheeks. His words got caught between hitched breaths, but he kept going, and Dad was listening. He didn’t interrupt or ask questions; he gave Shigeo all the time he needed.

When Shigeo was finally done, Dad’s expression shifted to something more serious. “Your mother and I will call the police tomorrow morning and get this sorted out.” 

“No,” Shigeo cut in immediately, his voice still weak. 

Dad blinked, tilting his head slightly. “No?” he echoed. It was clear he was still trying to understand. 

Shigeo sighed, slowly pushing himself up and sitting up straight. “I don’t want to do that,” he muttered. “I don’t want to cause more issues. Not for them. Not for anyone.” His voice didn’t hold fear of what might happen, but shame… He felt like he was always causing issues for others, no matter what. He wanted to disappear from this conflict, not be its source. 

“Shige, something needs to be done.” Dad sounded worried but also frustrated, not at his son, but at the situation. It didn’t feel right just letting things go after what’s been done to his boys. He felt like he wasn’t doing his job as a father, keeping his sons safe. 

The boy just shook his head, keeping his eyes low. “Please, I don’t want to do that…” he muttered once more. “I just want things to be normal again.”

A silence fell between them as the weight of Shigeo’s words hung in the air. He didn’t want anything to be done, and he hoped his parents could respect that. 

Dad sighed, then reached out to give Shigeo’s hair a gentle ruffle. “Alright. Mom and I will discuss it. For now, just get some rest. Mom and I will do whatever we can to keep you and your brother safe. You know that.” 

“I know,” Shigeo nodded, trying in vain to duck out of his father’s hand. 

“Good night, kiddo.” Dad got to his feet, snagging the plate to save for later, and headed for the door. 

“Dad,” Shigeo called once more, and the man stopped in his tracks again, looking at his son curiously. 

Shigeo looked down, nervously fidgeting with his blanket. He wanted to tell his father about what he had seen. The strange, swirling phenomenon on the wall that had burned his hand when he touched it. He just wasn't sure how. How does he explain something like that? Something that he didn’t even understand? 

When it came to his powers or anything supernatural, his parents were clueless. They always did their best to listen and understand, but Shigeo knew they didn’t quite get it, no matter how hard they tried or how much he tried to explain things. It was an aspect of himself that he didn’t share with his family. They weren’t like him; they didn’t get it, so they couldn’t possibly understand. 

“I… I-It’s nothing,” he whispered, lying down again and curling up under the safety of his blanket, backing out of the subject entirely. 

Dad paused, giving him a thoughtful and somewhat concerned look, but let it go. “Alright, I’m always here if you need to talk.” A moment later, Dad was gone. He had flipped off the light again and shut the door behind him, leaving Shigeo alone in the dark. 

As the man stepped into the hall, he saw Ritsu standing just feet away, shuffling somewhat nervously. “I-Is Shige okay?” the young boy asked, trying not to sound as worried as he looked but failing. 

A comforting hand came down, tangling in his somewhat messy dark hair. He gazed up at his father, who was giving him a soft, understanding smile. “Don’t worry, kiddo. Shigeo will be just fine. He’s just been through a lot and isn’t feeling too great right now. So, let's give him some space, yeah?” 

Ritsu nodded a bit hesitantly, and Dad gave his hair a gentle ruffle before heading back downstairs. As his father’s footsteps faded and Ritsu stood alone in the hall, his gaze slowly shifted back to Shigeo’s closed bedroom door. 

Dad said to leave Shigeo alone, but Ritsu didn’t want to wait anymore. He was getting tired of standing off to the side. He wanted to check on his brother. For the first time in days, Ritsu finally felt ready to face his older brother. To talk things out and listen. He wasn’t going to chicken out like he did earlier this week. He didn’t care about what happened anymore; he just wanted to make sure his brother was okay. 

He took a few slow and quiet steps toward Shigeo’s door and raised a hand to it. He was hesitant, just like before, but he wasn’t backing out this time. After drawing in a not-so-calming breath, he gently knocked. “Shige?” he called softly but received no response. 

Refusing to be discouraged, he reached for the handle and turned it slowly, opening the door just a little. It creaked softly, only to stop suddenly as if something was blocking it. Confused, Ritsu pushed a bit harder, but the door would not budge one bit. He gritted his teeth and slammed his shoulder into it, but it again did not give an inch. 

Suddenly, the door was pushed back with a powerful force, nearly knocking Ritsu off balance. He fought hard against it, shoving back with all his strength, but he was no match for it. Whatever was pushing back was stronger. 

Through the narrow gap in the door, he could faintly make out his brother’s figure, curled up on his bed and barely moving. The air in the room felt tense, pulsating with an invisible pressure. That’s when he realized what was happening. Shigeo was using his powers to push the door closed. He didn’t want Ritsu in there. He didn’t want to see his brother. The realization hurt more than the force pushing back hard against him. 

“Shigeo, please!” Ritsu begged, his voice breaking as he shoved back against the door. But his socked feet slid against the hardwood floor as the other side pushed back with impossible strength. The door finally slammed shut with a hard click; the sound seemed to echo in the quiet hallway. 

“Shigeo!” he called, his voice wavering slightly. “Please don’t shut me out!” 

Only silence lay beyond the closed door, and Ritsu’s tears, once filled with heartbreak, shifted toward something angrier. “Fine!” he huffed and, in a burst of frustration, kicked the door hard. He regretted it a second later as he winced, pain shooting through his foot. But the pain didn’t stop him from stalking off to his own room and slamming the door behind him with an even louder bang. 

“Boys! No slamming doors!” He faintly heard his mother call from downstairs, but Ritsu ignored it. Instead, he tossed himself onto his bed and buried his face into his pillow as the last little bit of composure he had disappeared. He let the tears that threatened to spill over finally fall. The outburst didn’t make him feel any better. He just felt more alone.

Ritsu was starting to really believe what he had told his mother the other day. That Shigeo was never going to speak to him again. And yet, on the other side of the wall, Shigeo lay with his face buried in his blanket, crying silent tears of his own. He felt just as alone and wished more than anything he could be brave enough to let the door open. 

Downstairs, Mom sighed and shook her head at the sound of the slammed door from above. She made her way into the living room with a basket full of laundry, ready to fold it.  

"Hey, hon,” Dad started, snagging her attention as he hunched forward on the couch with his eyes squinting at the TV. “What do you suppose that is?” 

She set down the laundry basket beside the couch and turned her gaze toward the TV. The screen displayed a grainy, amateur photo of some kind, clearly taken from a flip phone. It appeared to be a blurry photo of a local park at dusk; a bench and walking path could barely be seen.  Near the center, far off down the path, was a dark, amorphous blob, entirely out of focus and difficult to make out. 

The newscaster can be heard describing the photo, stating that several residents reported seeing a large, fast-moving creature rushing through the area, but no one was able to get a clear look. 

“I’m not sure,” Mom muttered, frowning slightly. “Maybe a bear?” 

“Ya think so? Out in the middle of the city?” Dad asked, clear doubt in his tone as he leaned back against the couch. 

She could only shrug. It was extremely unlikely but not impossible. Still, something felt off about the photo. Something neither of them could explain. After a few more minutes of that nonsense, they flipped off the TV for the night. It was getting late. 

------

The next night, it was Mom who came to visit. After another horrendous Incident, Shigeo went back to closing himself off. He hid himself from the world and refused to come out just when it seemed like he was beginning to feel better and breathe again. He had finally taken a step forward, just to take another big step back. 

Mom did not wait for him to reply after knocking like she usually did. This time, she was on a mission and didn’t want to waste any time. With her arms full of fresh bandages, ointments, and gauze, she stepped inside, looking determined. She was there to give him a check-up. 

“Shigeo, I need you to sit up and let me take a look at you,” She said softly, kneeling beside his futon. Though her voice was gentle, there was no room for negotiation. Shigeo made no argument, wordlessly pushing himself up and letting his mother do her job. He remained silent as she examined him, checking his bruises and scrapes, peeling back bandages to see if anything needed to be changed or cleaned. 

She gave him a kind smile, one only a mother could give. And for a brief moment, it made his heart feel just a little warmer. Mom always had a way of making him feel so warm and safe, even when things felt distant and overwhelming. Just her presence could make his chest feel lighter. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked. 

Shigeo gave a pathetic shrug and kept his gaze low as if he couldn’t even bring himself to lift his head. Mom gently touched his cheek, guiding his head upwards so she could check out the injuries on his face. Luckily, he only had a couple of bruises and a small scrape on his cheek. 

“Ritsu is really worried about you,” she said quietly, shifting her focus to his arms. 

Shigeo bit his lip and still said nothing. Mom looked exasperated but still offered a patient smile. “I think you should talk to him,” she encouraged. 

He shuffled uncomfortably, fingers curling tightly around his blanket, but she didn’t stop there. “Shige…” Her voice was soft and coaxing. “You know you can’t hide forever. Ritsu just wants to know that you’re okay. That’s all.” 

She moved on to his scraped knee, deciding to change the dried bloody bandage that stuck painfully to his skin. He hissed and winced as she began to peel it away gently. She muttered a quiet apology, feeling bad for causing him more pain. 

The sting of antiseptic came next, but Shigeo toughed it out. As she began to clean up the cut again, he finally spoke up. “I-I don’t mean to worry him. It’s just…” He drew in a breath, trying not to wince as she applied a little more pressure. “I’m… I’m scared I’ll hurt him again.” 

Mom’s hands seemed to freeze for a moment as she listened. She let out a soft hum as she pulled out a new bandage, peeling it open and lightly pressing it to the wound. “I know, Shige. I know you’re scared about hurting Ritsu again,” she said, smoothing the bandage over. “But sweetie, you’re hurting him right now. By ignoring him and avoiding him, you’re hurting him far worse than you did that day…” 

Shigeo suddenly looked at his mother, eyes wide with shock, as if she had just ripped the entire world out from under him. “I-I… I didn’t realize. I thought…” his voice broke, and his shoulders shook as tears began to well up again. Without hesitation, Mom placed her hands on both his shoulders; her touch was warm and grounding.  

“You thought you were protecting your brother,” she continued. “But Shigeo, this isn’t the way to go about it. Hiding from him and shutting him out is not helping either of you. You can’t always protect Ritsu, but you can learn from your mistakes. He knows you would never hurt him on purpose.”

Shigeo sniffled as he tried desperately to keep himself from crying. He felt like he had been doing it a lot lately. He was surprised he even had any tears left. Mom reached up and gently brushed a thumb beneath his eyes, catching a tear before it could fall. 

“It doesn’t have to be tonight,” she whispered. “But promise me you’ll talk to Ritsu soon?” 

Shigeo hesitated a second but then finally gave a small nod. Mom looked so relieved as she pulled him into a loving hug. “Good,” she muttered into his hair. “I love you both so much, and I just want you to be happy.” 

Shigeo let her warmth envelop him. He didn’t care if he was getting older; he would always take a hug from Mom. He let out a shaky breath and shut his eyes, snuggling into her and clinging to her like a lifeline. He always felt so safe and warm in her arms.

She held him for a few minutes, rubbing his back until he calmed a bit. Soon after, she finally pulled away. “Get some sleep, okay? I’ll check on you in the morning.” 

Shigeo gave one more silent nod as he lay back again. Mom even tucked him in. She hadn’t done that in quite a while since her boys were getting older and more independent, but Shigeo appreciated it. She gave him a soft kiss on the head, gathered her supplies, and soon left him to his thoughts once again. 

As Shigeo lay in his dark room, his mind slowly sinking into sleep, he could faintly hear the sound of the TV droning on downstairs. Mom and Dad were watching the news.

------

Ritsu quickly slid his shoe onto his foot and gently tapped it against the floor. It felt like it had been forever since he put on his shoes. He paused by the front door as he slipped his backpack on over his shoulders. Today was the day. He was finally going back to school. He’d been itching for this day. Sitting at home had gotten so boring, and that restless energy had been building up over the past few days. 

Though he would unfortunately be going by himself today, Shigeo was going to stay home again, which made sense after everything that had happened. Things had been such a mess lately, but Ritsu was sure his older brother appreciated another day off. Shigeo wasn’t as fond of school as he was. He was sure things would still be awkward between them, too, after the other night. 

“I’m heading out!” he called, reaching for the knob. Just as his fingers clamped around the cold metal and began to twist, a harsh voice stopped him in his tracks. 

“And where do you think you’re going?” 

He froze instantly; he knew that tone well. Firm and terrifying. Mom … Ritsu winced and slowly turned his head, peeking over his backpack. “T-To school?” 

Mom stood in the hallway, arms crossed, with a serious look on her face. “Not alone, you’re not. Your father will be taking you.” 

Ritsu’s shoulders instantly dropped as he tried to suppress a groan. “Mom, I can walk by myself. I don’t need anyone to take me.” Try as he might, he knew arguing wouldn’t get him anywhere. Still, he had to at least try. 

“I don’t care if you can,” Mom shot back without missing a beat. “You’re not going to. After what happened last week, and now what happened to Shige, you boys are never walking anywhere alone for the rest of your lives,” she huffed. Her word was final. 

Great. Now he’s going to be babied forever just because some delinquent jerks couldn’t mind their own business and decided to pick on him and his brother. “Fine!” he grumbled, pouting a bit. 

“Don’t pout, Ritsu,” Mom told him, wagging her finger at him before turning away. “Your father will be right down to take you to school.” 

Ritsu continued to pout behind Mom’s back. 

------

Shigeo came out of his room today. 

He didn’t want to hide anymore. He promised Mom he would talk to Ritsu, and he meant it. That was his plan once Ritsu got home from school. He was done pushing his little brother away. Mom was right; he was hurting Ritsu now more than ever, and he never wanted that. Guilt clung to him like the uncomfortable bandages on his skin. He hated it. He hated himself for letting things get this bad. He just wanted to go back to being normal brothers. He thought he was doing the right thing by keeping his distance, but he missed his little brother deeply. 

Shigeo sat on the couch, absently picking at a bandage on his arm. He tried to be stealthy about it, immediately pulling his hand away if he heard the slightest movement. He knew if Mom caught him, it would be game over. An immediate scolding would come, along with another re-bandaging session and the awful sting of the antiseptic. 

The TV was on, but he wasn’t really watching it. Some daytime talk show blared on it while Mom bustled about in the kitchen. The occasional clatter of dishes could be heard over the loud voices echoing from the TV. She decided to stay home with him today, not wanting him to be alone. Shigeo had been left home alone plenty of times, but he knew there was a different reason Mom stayed with him today. She was still worried about him. 

“Shige, what do you want for lunch?” Mom called, but Shigeo didn’t answer right away. 

His eyes had been drawn to the TV when a breaking news prompt came on. He lazily turned his head as a newscaster started speaking, their face grave and their tone urgent. 

“We have breaking news, the body of a woman has been discovered near an alleyway just outside the business district, close to—” 

Shigeo stiffened as the newscaster continued to report on the situation. Detailing that the woman was young, possibly late twenties, most likely on her way to work. He began to feel uneasy, an overwhelming sense of dread taking hold, almost suffocating. His chest started to feel tight, and his hands began to tingle. But it wasn’t the familiar tingle of his powers buzzing under his skin. This was different. The tips of his fingers, still wrapped up and healing suddenly flared with pain. It was hot and searing, like they were on fire, just like when he first touched the swirling anomaly in that dark basement. It was as if he were reaching into it again, and it was reaching back. 

“Shigeo?” Mom called, but it sounded distant and muffled. 

His breath picked up, and a cold sweat broke across his forehead as a harsh heat pulsed through his body. The TV flashed scenes of police tape, concerned citizens, and flashing lights of an ambulance. Shigeo didn’t know what was wrong; he wasn’t sure why he suddenly felt this way. His mind kept circling back to what he saw in that basement. But why? No matter how much he told himself it was in his head, he couldn’t stop the dread, the fear. The sense that something was very wrong. 

“The woman’s body appeared to have teeth and claw marks—” 

“Officers believe some kind of large animal may have attacked her—” 

“Is something loose in the city?” 

The words seemed to blur together. His skin felt clammy, and the tips of his fingers still burned as his heart pounded in his chest. Suddenly, Mom was in front of him, crouched low and looking concerned. “Shige, are you okay?” she asked, and Shigeo blinked as her face came into focus. “You look pale.” 

Shigeo couldn’t answer; a familiar feeling was rising in his throat, and he tried to swallow it back down, but it only made it worse. Mom knew that look all too well. It was the same look he’d get on really long car rides or when he ate his food too fast. 

She spoke softly but quickly. “Are you going to be sick?” 

Now that he thought about this feeling more, yes, he was definitely going to be sick. Shigeo gave a frantic nod, and Mom was quick to pull him to his feet, ushering him along. “Alright, come on,” she said, rushing the poor boy to the bathroom. 

They made it just in time as the boy quickly huddled over the open toilet and proceeded to vomit up his breakfast. Mom remained close by. Years of motherhood had made her strong against seeing gross things. Throw-up didn’t faze her at this point. She just rubbed his back as he expelled what he needed to. 

“It’s okay, Shige,” she assured him. Looks like they would be skipping lunch. 

In the background, the TV went on… “We will keep you updated as more info arises.” 

------

Ritsu tapped his foot in annoyance as he sat at his desk. There was downtime in class, so most of the other students around him were now in their own worlds, having conversations and laughing. Unfortunately, Ritsu had work he needed to catch up on, and the obnoxious noise wasn’t helping much. 

His eyes scanned over the same question for the third time, but it was not connecting in his brain. There were too many conversations going on, and they all seemed similar. 

“Did you see what was on the news the other night?” one student asked. 

“Yeah, that freaky photo?” another replied.

Another chimed in, scoffing. “It was totally fake! It looked like one of those crappy cryptid photos.” 

Ritsu sighed and sat back, his chair creaking with his movements. He laid his pencil down and just tried to tune everyone out, but it was almost impossible to escape. Two more students on the other side of him were wrapped in a conversation of their own. 

“My grandma called my dad crying last night,” one said. “She swore she saw something in her back garden. She thought it might’ve been a bear!” 

A skeptical reply came from the other. “What? No way. My dad said bears don’t just come into the city.” 

“But did you hear that 110 call on the news last night? Some lady swore something huge ran right in front of her car while she was driving.” 

Ritsu huffed, growing more irritated by the second. This was getting ridiculous. The school was buzzing with these weird rumors flying around nonstop like it was all everyone could talk about. Though Ritsu would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little concerned. Something had to be going on if it was such a hot topic. Then again, there could probably be a perfectly reasonable explanation for it all. 

Suddenly, the bell chimed, cutting through the chatter, and the classroom fell silent as a voice raised over the school intercom. 

“Attention, students! School will be dismissed early today.” 

Cheers erupted immediately as students threw their hands up and gave each other high-fives. However, they all seemed unaware of what was actually happening. Ritsu instantly got a bad feeling. Something about this didn’t feel right. 

“Your parents are already on their way to pick you up. Please meet them at the gates and do not walk home alone. Have a good day.” The speaker cut off with a resounding static click. No one else seemed to pick up on it, but the voice over the intercom sounded somewhat panicked. 

Everyone remained cheerful as they gathered their things and rushed out the door. Ritsu took his time however, his mind racing. What was going on? 

As promised, a crowd of parents had already gathered at the school gates, waiting for their children. Some spoke to each other quietly, while others kept a watchful eye. Ritsu quickly spotted his dad among the crowd. He gave Ritsu a wave, though it wasn’t his usual loose, carefree wave. He seemed somewhat stiff. 

Once Ritsu met up with him, Dad instantly placed a hand on his shoulder and guided him down the street without a word. That uneasy feeling nestling in the boy’s ribcage only seemed to double. Dad usually greets him happily and asks about his day, but he was quiet today. 

“Dad?” Ritsu asked softly, glancing up at him. “What’s going on? Why are we leaving early?” 

His father seemed to think for a moment, considering his words before answering simply, “I’m not sure, kiddo. Some kind of emergency.” 

Ritsu fell silent for a moment, watching his feet as they moved down the sidewalk before he looked back up at the man. “Is it a disaster? Is something coming? Are we under attack?” He was trying not to let his thoughts race but was doing a horrible job. It probably wasn’t as bad as he was making it out to be in his head. He could only hope. 

“I don’t know,” Dad answered again, but Ritsu could tell from his face that something was clearly wrong. “Let’s just get home to your mother and brother, okay?” 

It was Dad’s way of saying no more questions for now. But Ritsu’s mind was buzzing; he wanted to ask more questions. He wanted to know what the other kids were talking about today and why the adults were acting so strangely. Even Dad was hurrying him along down the street, not walking casually like they did this morning. He began to wonder if it had something to do with the mysterious explosion that occurred the other day. But the police found nothing… 

Before he could follow the trail further, the sudden blaring of a warning siren caused the young boy to flinch. It was loud and jarring, coming from just down the street. Dad’s grip tightened on his shoulder just a bit, and Ritsu found himself huddling closer to his father as they picked up the pace. The tension in the air was now unmistakable. 

------

Mom looked relieved when they came through the front door. She hugged Ritsu and welcomed him home, which wasn’t entirely unusual, but something about it felt different today. 

As Ritsu removed his shoes and shrugged off his backpack, Mom pulled Dad aside, and they were once again talking in hushed tones. “Did you hear what they were saying on the news?” she whispered, her voice full of worry. 

Ritsu swallowed thickly and took a few slow, creeping steps toward his parents as they spoke several feet away. He didn’t like eavesdropping, but he wanted to know what was going on. Mom looked anxious and even a little scared; her hand was tightly gripped on the front of her blouse. Dad's brows were furrowed, and he looked just as stiff as before. He hadn’t smiled once. 

“They found four more bodies just an hour ago.” Mom continued. 

Ritsu’s breath hitched.

Bodies…?

“Someone just a few blocks away said their house was broken into,” she added, her voice dropping a bit. “The door was completely ripped off the hinges.” 

Ritsu felt like his heart dropped for a second as he froze mid-step. Mom noticed him instantly. She hadn’t realized he’d been listening. “Ritsu, sweetie,” she started, giving him a patient smile. “Why don’t you head upstairs for a little while? Do some homework, maybe.” 

Ritsu gave a slow, uncertain nod. “Where’s Shigeo?” he asked. 

“He’s upstairs resting. He hasn’t been feeling well today. Now, go on.” She lightly placed her hand on his shoulder and urged him toward the stairs. “We’ll come get you when it’s time for dinner.” 

He hesitated once again but eventually gave in, slowly and silently climbing the stairs and heading for his room. He thought about checking on his brother, but after the other night, he decided against it. He didn’t want to keep pushing things and further the distance between them. A distance that already felt like miles. 

He quietly slipped into his room and shut the door with a soft click. As he settled in at his desk, he tried desperately to distract himself with his homework, but his pencil just hovered over the page, unmoving. He once again couldn’t focus as everything he heard today lingered in his mind. The kids in class mentioning strange creatures, and Mom telling Dad about bodies and houses being busted into. He thought about the strange phenomenon the other day. 

He quickly shook his head. Just focus on your work. 

The hours ticked by, and the sun had finally set in the sky, letting the streetlights kick on with a low hum. Ritsu had to turn on his desk lamp to see his work better, the warm glow cascading over his papers. The overhead light could sometimes be too much, but the soft light of the desk lamp was just right, comforting even. Within a few hours, Ritsu was nearly caught up on all the work he had missed. 

He sat back in his chair and stretched his arms above his head. Sitting at his desk for so long had gotten uncomfortable, and his back started to ache. With a quiet sigh, he set his pencil down on the desk, clattering softly against the wood. He needed a short break. 

Mom and Dad still hadn’t called him down for dinner like they said they would. Ritsu glanced toward his bedroom door. The house was oddly quiet except for the faint muffle of the news on the TV downstairs. 

He was still curious and felt he should be worried, but Mom and Dad were doing their best to keep things calm. He wanted to believe it was nothing, but that uneasy feeling still lingered in his chest. Maybe it was just something that would just blow over soon enough, and they didn’t want to worry him or Shigeo. 

He glanced out his window into the night, only to be met with his reflection staring back at him in the glass. Wow, he looked just as worried as he felt. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was scared, and being kept in the dark only made that fear worse. At least Shigeo was sleeping like a baby in the other room, not a care in the world, and had no clue as to what was going on as well. 

Ritsu saw himself jolt in the reflection of his window as a loud bang could be heard downstairs. His heart leaped into his throat, and he instantly got to his feet, his chair scraping against the floor. For a moment, all he heard were his quiet breaths before another loud bang echoed through the house. Even though he was afraid, he didn’t hesitate. He ran to his door, ripped it open, and tore down the hall toward the stairs. 

“Mom? Dad?” He called as he rushed halfway down the staircase before stopping cold. His eyes landed on his parents standing rigid near the foyer, their eyes locked on the front door. He couldn’t see the look on their faces, but he could see the tension in their posture. 

“Go back upstairs, Ritsu,” Mom requested, eerily calm. 

The boy opened his mouth to ask more questions, only to flinch when another loud crack resounded through the hall. That was when he realized the sounds were coming from the front door. Something was slamming into it. Hard. He recalled what Mom said earlier about someone’s house being broken into. The door being completely ripped off. He could still hear the news droning on in the background, an urgent voice pouring through. “ All citizens are advised to remain indoors. Lock all windows and doors.”

“W-What’s going on?” He couldn’t keep the tremor from his voice. 

Mom let out a soft sigh, still facing the front door. “Ritsu, I need you to go upstairs, get your brother, and hide. Don’t come out until we say it's safe.” 

“B-But—” 

“Ritsu, no more questions, please.” She finally turned her head, giving him a small, tired smile. “It’ll be okay, I promise.” 

Mom seemed so sure, and he trusted her… 

Ritsu gave a shaky nod before turning and hurrying back up the stairs. Behind him, Mom and Dad shared a strained look before turning back toward the door again. The frame was beginning to crack.

Without even bothering to knock, Ritsu burst into Shigeo’s room. He quickly spotted his brother curled up and fast asleep, blissfully unaware of what was going on. Ritsu rushed to his side and shook his older brother forcefully. “Shigeo! Shigeo, wake up! Get up!” 

Shigeo grumbled but slowly opened his eyes. Ritsu wasted no time as he quickly grabbed his brother’s arms and hauled him into a sitting position. “Come on! Get up, now!” 

Shigeo blinked blearily and let out a confused hum before Ritsu forcibly pulled him up. “We need to hide,” he said, dragging the older boy along. Shigeo seemed too groggy and confused to fight back, letting his brother pull him. Ritsu's eyes darted around Shigeo’s room before deciding this area wasn’t good enough. 

He pulled Shigeo out into the hall, and the two hurried toward Ritsu’s room. Another loud crack echoed through the house, causing both boys to flinch. Ritsu broke into a run, causing Shigeo to stumble behind him. 

“R-Ritsu!” Shigeo called softly, only for his younger brother to shush him loudly. 

Once inside his room, Ritsu’s eyes went straight to the bed. He didn’t have a futon like Shigeo did. Shigeo traded out his bed for a futon years ago when he began levitating things in his sleep. It was just safer that way. But Ritsu didn’t exactly share that problem with his brother, and the difference gave them the perfect hiding spot. 

He pulled Shigeo toward the edge of his bed, then gently but firmly pushed his brother down toward the floor. “Get under,” he whispered. Shigeo didn’t argue and followed his brother’s orders, his tired brain still trying to catch up to what was going on. 

Both boys quickly huddled under the darkness of Ritsu’s bed, lying flat on their stomachs and peeking out into the dimly lit room. The only light came from the soft glow of Ritsu’s desk lamp. They didn’t hear anything anymore. No loud banging or even their parents' voices. Only silence, and after a moment, Shigeo broke it. 

“Ritsu, what’s—” 

“Shh!” Ritsu shushed again, cutting him off. He didn’t miss the worried and scared look on Shigeo’s face. “Mom told us to hide and not come out until she says. Stay quiet, okay?” 

Shigeo shut his mouth, and even in the low light, Ritsu could make out his brother’s slow nod. A creaking sound from the hall suddenly caught their attention. There was one floorboard in the middle of the hall that always creaked when someone stepped on it. Someone was out there. Was it Mom and Dad? 

They both held their breath, resisting the urge to call out for either parent. They knew how to follow the rules and listen, and they would do as promised, not come out until told. Then, they could hear steps, heavy steps. Way too heavy to be Mom or Dad. 

Both boys tensed up as a shadow loomed just outside Ritsu’s door. Then, with a rough shove, the door opened, the hinges squeaking softly. What stepped inside was something neither boy could describe. 

Creepy, bone-like limbs crept across the floor. Each of them had long, jagged claws that clicked sharply against the wood. The creature moved on all fours, shuffling into Ritsu’s room as if looking for something. It made a low, guttural noise, growling and gurgling, sounding like the rumble of a bad car engine. It reverberated off the walls, sending chills down their spines. They could only see its feet, but they could tell it was quite big. 

It shuffled a bit closer toward the bed. Ritsu froze when he heard Shigeo let out an involuntary whimper of fear. The younger brother quickly reached out and clamped his hand over Shigeo’s mouth. He silently scooted just a bit closer to his older brother, trying to offer him some comfort. Shigeo squeezed his eyes shut, and Ritsu could feel his warm breath against his palm, rapid and terrified. 

He had never seen his brother so scared before. Usually, not much frightened Shigeo. He had faced spirits and exorcised plenty that most people would run away from, screaming. But now, he was lying here, trembling with fear. Clearly, this thing wasn’t a spirit. It was alive…

The beast crept closer, dipping low and shoving its nose just below the bed frame, inching closer to the boys. The blanket that hung off the bed draped over it like a curtain. Only its snout poked beneath the bed, no eyes or other features to be seen, but its head looked like the skull of an animal. Though it had no nose, only hollow sockets and bone, it sniffled loudly. Its breath was harsh and wet, blowing warm air into the boy’s face and fluttering their hair. Shigeo continued to shake violently in Ritsu’s grip, his eyes still squeezed shut, but Ritsu didn’t take his eyes off the thing. 

The monster seemed to linger, like it sensed something was there but wasn’t entirely sure. It sniffled again and began to lift a clawed hand, ready to start pawing under the bed, before a loud crash from downstairs caught its attention. The creature froze and let out a growl before it quickly turned and bolted out of the room to investigate. 

Ritsu let out a breath he was sure he’d been holding since the beast arrived. His heart was pounding in his chest. What was that? He looked at Shigeo, who was still squeezing his eyes shut and shaking like a frightened puppy. 

Ritsu bit his lip. Sure, Shigeo had his little fears, just like everyone else, but Ritsu knew his older brother was strong. It was one thing he admired most about him. Shigeo always did what he could to protect his little brother. But now Ritsu felt the urge to protect his big brother. 

Ritsu slowly removed his hand from Shigeo’s mouth and spoke barely above a whisper. “It’s okay, Shige. It’s gone.” 

Shigeo slowly opened his eyes and scanned the dim room; well, what they could see from under the bed, at least. There really was no sign of the monster. He then turned toward Ritsu. 

“Where are Mom and Dad?” he whispered. 

Ritsu felt just as scared, but he was trying to be brave, trying to stay strong for both of them. “I… I don’t know.” 

The boys waited under the bed for over half an hour, but no calls from Mom or Dad ever came. The silence stretched on, becoming unbearable. Their legs were starting to cramp up, and it was getting hot and stuffy in their hiding spot. Ritsu swallowed and finally came to a decision. 

“I’m gonna go look for them.” 

As he began to shuffle out from under the bed, Shigeo swiftly grabbed his arm, stopping him. “Don’t,” he begged, his voice still full of fear. But Ritsu had already made up his mind. Shigeo was scared, and it was Ritsu’s turn to be the brave one. He had to step up. 

“It’ll be fine. I’ll just take a quick look.” He tried to look as reassuring as possible, and after a moment of hesitation, Shigeo finally let go. Ritsu slowly crawled out from under the bed, but he had a loyal follower just behind him. Both boys silently rose to their feet, and Ritsu decided he would lead the way. 

He made sure Shigeo knew he didn’t have to follow, but the older brother was adamant about doing so. So together, they made their way to the door, and Ritsu silently raised a finger to his lips. Shigeo nodded, and they moved into the hallway. They made sure to avoid the creaky floorboard, shuffling closer to the wall, each step slow and deliberate. 

They came to a stop at the top of the stairs and were about to call out to their parents, but something made them stop. It was better to stay quiet, deciding to remain cautious and listen closely for any sound. When they didn’t hear much, they slowly crept down the stairs. They remained as silent as cats, Ritsu offering his brother silent reassurances along the way. 

About halfway down, they saw it. The front door was busted open and hanging off the hinges. The latch was completely destroyed, wood cracked and splintered around the frame like something had forced its way in, and Ritsu knew exactly what. He drew in a breath and scanned the area, only for his heart to drop completely. 

More of these strange monster-like creatures. A small cluster of them huddled in the living room. He couldn’t see much but could hear the sickening sound of flesh tearing and bone cracking. His eyes locked on the beasts, frozen in fear, his body trembling just as fiercely as his older brother’s beside him. It was then that he finally figured out what they were huddling around. What they were devouring. 

A single, limp hand lay on the floor, sticking out from beneath the pile of monsters. Pale and still but unmistakable. Mom’s hand. Ritsu heard a sharp gasp just behind him. Shigeo saw it, too. They knew those hands well. Years of gentle touches, wiping away tears, taking care of scraped knees, and brushing their hair from their eyes. 

Ritsu stood frozen, and Shigeo swayed on his feet, feeling like he was going to be sick again. Both boys wanted to scream and cry, but the shock hit first, locking them in fearful silence. 

They had to move. Standing there any longer meant being seen; it was only a matter of time. Once they were finally able to tear their eyes away, they turned and bolted back to Ritsu’s room as silently as they could manage. The monsters didn’t even notice, too focused on their meal. They silently shut the bedroom door behind them, then climbed into Ritsu’s closet to hide. Neither of them said a word the rest of the night. 

------

When Ritsu opened his eyes, he was surrounded by darkness, but he felt a warm, familiar weight beside him and could hear the soft breaths of his older brother. It was grounding and kept panic from taking hold. 

Please let it have been a nightmare, he silently begged. Some horrible, messed-up dream his mind had conjured up. But he knew better. He tilted his head to the side and noticed a faint sliver of light, a thin crack in the closet door where the tiniest bit of morning sun leaked in, cutting through the darkness of their hideaway. 

They were still there, still hiding. So it was all real…

The strange stories from the news, the creatures breaking into their home, almost finding him and Shigeo, and… Mom and Dad… 

Ritsu felt his chest ache as he tried desperately to get the image out of his head. The memory hit him, along with a wave of nausea. The horrifying monsters huddled in the living room, the sound of flesh tearing, bones cracking, and the single, limp hand lying motionless on the floor. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push it all out, but it was burned into his mind, and wasn’t leaving anytime soon. 

How? How could any of this be real? Their parents always told them monsters didn’t exist. Where had they even come from? Had they taken over the whole neighborhood? The whole city? Were the police doing anything? The military? His thoughts were spiraling, panicked. Why wasn’t anyone stopping this?

He needed to breathe and try to calm down. Mom and Dad always said not to panic when things got scary. Keep a level head and take it one step at a time. He took a slow, shaky breath and adjusted himself; his arm was half asleep with Shigeo lying on it. The movement caused his older brother to stir. He couldn’t see well in the dark, but he knew he had just woken Shigeo up. 

“Sorry…” Ritsu whispered, feeling a little guilty. 

There was a pause as Shigeo shifted. “S’okay,” he murmured sleepily. 

After that, they sat in silence. Neither of them spoke a word. Not because there was nothing to say but because the words just would not come. It was clear they were both still terrified, frozen with fear; everything they had witnessed and everything they didn't understand weighed heavily on their minds. 

Ritsu wanted to cry, to break down and let it all out, but for some reason, he just couldn't. He knew Shigeo felt the same way. In the way his breath hitched every so often, or the slight shiver in his body, but no tears came, no sobs or cries. They were both overwhelmed by fear, grief, and confusion. Too many emotions tangled together inside them, leaving them in a state of shock. A feeling of numbness and disbelief, as if their brains hadn't quite caught up to what their eyes had truly seen. 

They probably sat silently in that dark, stuffy closet for what felt like hours before either of them found the courage to move. They couldn’t hide forever; their stomachs started to ache with hunger, their mouths dry from thirst. They had to leave the safety of the closet sooner rather than later. 

Ritsu, again trying to be the brave one and look out for his brother, was the first to sit up, ready to check the area. His movements were slow as he reached for the closet door. With a nervous hand, he carefully pulled it open just a crack and cautiously peeked out into the room. As brave as he was trying to be, he could still hear his heart pounding in his ears. 

It looked clear. The warm morning sunlight poured in, making the room feel bright and almost safe. There were no monsters to be seen, no growls to be heard, nothing. Ritsu bit his lip and slid the door open just a bit more, slow and cautious once again. Every muscle in his body felt tense and alert. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand from behind came down on his shoulder.  

“S-Sorry!” Shigeo muttered quickly. Ritsu glanced back just to see the worry on his older brother’s face, but there was also a slight determination in his eyes. “You should let me go first.” 

Ritsu blinked in surprise but then quickly shook his head. “No, it’s okay, I can go—”

“No!” Shigeo immediately cut in, the word bursting out before he could stop it. He then looked a bit embarrassed by how upset he got, looking away for a brief moment. “It’s just… I-If something is out there, I can use my psychic powers. I can protect us.” 

Ritsu hesitated, looking relatively unsure. He knew Shigeo’s powers were strong and useful. But they also came with a cost. All it would take was one mistake. If Shigeo got hurt, there was a possibility that something else might come out. Something terrifying. Something that wasn’t quite his brother. Something that Ritsu didn’t really want to see again… 

“Shige, it’s okay. I know you’re scared,” Ritsu said gently, but Shigeo quickly shook his head. 

“N-No,” he muttered, a little frustrated, his fists clenched at his sides. “I don’t want to be scared. I want to protect you.”

Ritsu sighed softly. “I want to protect you, too.”

For a moment, the silence between them grew heavy as both boys felt like they were in a stalemate. Neither one of them was backing down. They would just end up arguing back and forth for hours about what the other wanted. They locked eyes, and each brother mirrored the same stubborn and concerned expression. However, the tension didn’t last, as they seemed to come to an agreement. 

“Together?” Ritsu asked. 

Shigeo nodded. “Together.”

With that, both brothers slid open the door and stepped out, side by side. 

As they crept out of Ritsu’s room, moving slowly and quietly, the younger brother suddenly felt something warm slip into his hand. He glanced down and realized that it was Shigeo’s hand, trembling slightly but holding on tight. Ritsu gave Shigeo’s hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze, silently promising that he wouldn’t let go. Together, they made their way down the hall and toward the stairs. 

They both held their breath as they descended the stairs, taking each step one at a time at an agonizingly slow pace. They both knew what they were going to see down there, but a tiny part of them still hoped that it wasn’t real, a bad dream. But they knew… 

They reached the bottom of the stairs but instantly wished they hadn’t. The small amount of courage they had built up had now shattered like glass. At some point, Shigeo had let go of Ritsu’s hand and was now tightly gripping the banister with both hands, knuckles white. He began to shake, just as he had the night before, his eyes fixed on the spot where the monsters had gathered. But they were long gone, and so were their parents. 

There was no sign of them, no bodies; there was nothing left of them. Everything was just… gone. All that remained was a dark stain of dried blood that stretched across the floor like an ugly scar. It had soaked into the wood and was enough to tell the boys what had happened. 

Shigeo couldn’t tear his eyes away; they were locked onto the stain, wide and unblinking. He began to tremble even harder as his breaths came out quick and erratic like he couldn’t get enough air. Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision as they spilled over.

Ritsu knew the telltale signs and was quick to try to calm his brother, though Ritsu was struggling too; his own chest felt like it was caving in. He stepped closer, not wanting his brother to panic or lose control. 

“Shige, I-It’s okay. I’m right here,” the younger brother tried as he gently touched Shigeo’s arm. But Shigeo barely responded, his eyes still fixed on the floor, completely frozen in horror.

Ritsu felt tears rush to his own eyes as he tried to blink them away. His throat tightened as he forced himself to take slow breaths, trying desperately to remain calm. He wanted to keep it together for his brother, but he was also falling apart. Still, Ritsu stepped in front of Shigeo, whose trembling legs finally gave out beneath him. His brother crumpled to the floor, still clinging to the banister and still staring. Ritsu didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around his brother, hoping it would help ground them both. 

"I-I'm here, Shige," he whispered, his voice nearly breaking apart. "It's okay. W-We're okay." His breath hitched as he tried to swallow back his growing emotion. He had to stay strong for his brother. He tightened his grip just a bit more as Shigeo said nothing in response.

"It's going to be okay, I promise." But deep down, he wasn't sure if he even believed it himself. He eventually got Shigeo to tear his eyes away, the older brother breaking down in gasping sobs. They would continue to sit there for a while, holding each other and letting themselves cry and grieve. 

------

Ritsu gritted his teeth, letting out a pitiful grunt as he used his weight to shove one end of the couch. It scraped loudly against the floor as it inched forward painfully slow. Shigeo was shoving the other end, but he looked just as worn out, beads of sweat gathering near his forehead. The sofa wasn't huge, but for two young boys, it was still pretty heavy. Their muscles burned as every scrape echoed through the eerily quiet house. They were almost at their destination, the back door. 

They had already blocked off the front door. They had managed to prop it up, mostly back in place, stacking random furniture against it until it looked somewhat secure. Now, it was on to the back door. They both agreed not to use Shigeo's powers to move the furniture. Though it would have been easier, Shigeo felt unsure when using them to lift bigger objects. Small objects were simple, but he worried about his control with the bigger pieces. He didn't want to accidentally drop a table on his younger brother or something. It was better safe than sorry. 

Once the couch was successfully pressed up against the back door, they both took a step back to observe their work, panting slightly from the strenuous activity. 

After silently staring at their makeshift barricade for a moment, Ritsu spoke up. “I think we need more,” he said between breaths. 

Shigeo agreed without hesitation and looked around for what else they would use. “Maybe the dining room chairs?” 

“Yeah,” Ritsu replied, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. “Maybe we can stack them.” 

Both boys scurried over and started collecting the wooden chairs from the dining area. Like playing a game of Jenga, they were able to stack the chairs neatly so they wouldn’t topple over easily. The chairs fit together surprisingly well, forming a sturdy barrier that leaned against the door without wobbling. 

Although their task of securing the house was tiring, it served as a good distraction. If they stopped even for a moment, they would start to think and remember, and neither of them wanted that. So far, the chairs were a success, holding strong. Now, they just needed to move on to the windows. 

They started gathering every blanket in the house. Each one was fair game, except for one, as it was already being used for another purpose. The navy blue throw that usually lay on the couch now covered up the dark stain on their floor, so they could no longer see it. With tacks, tape, and whatever else they could find, they began to cover the windows, one by one, with the blankets they had gathered. It wouldn't stop anything from breaking in, but maybe if the monsters couldn't see them, they wouldn't come. It was a risky plan, but it was all they had.

By the time morning bled into mid-afternoon, both boys were exhausted. Their arms ached, and their legs were sore from all the climbing, lifting, and pushing. They sat cross-legged on the kitchen floor, backs against cabinets, as they thought about eating. That’s when Ritsu noticed Shigeo fidgeting, his hand tugging at a bandage on his arm.

“Are your bandages bugging you?” he asked with a frown. 

Shigeo glanced up like he had been caught and would get into trouble for messing with them, but Ritsu wasn’t Mom, though he still looked a bit upset. “Yeah, a little…” Shigeo admitted. “They hurt.” Dried blood and scabs under the bandages uncomfortably pulled at his skin. Ritsu gave a small nod; he knew what to do. 

“Hold on,” he said quickly, already pushing himself to his feet. Before Shigeo could say anything in response, his younger brother was gone, rushing out of the kitchen. Shigeo sat in silence for a few moments, trying to calm his mind as he focused on his breathing, not wanting his thoughts to spiral out of control again. But he was having a hard time shaking the memory of the dark stain from his mind, even with it covered up. He instantly felt a little calmer once Ritsu finally returned, a familiar box in hand. 

Ritsu kneeled next to his brother and set the box down before clicking it open. He began pulling out what he needed, just like Mom had taught them and had always done. The old bandages peeled away slowly, tugging at dried blood and scabbed skin, causing Shigeo to wince, but he was doing his best to be brave. Mom was always the best at this, but she had taught her boys well. Ritsu checked the wounds like she would have. He made sure they weren't too red, swollen, or hot to the touch. There were no signs of infection or gross oozing, and the scabs were holding up well. Ritsu then nodded with satisfaction and grabbed some new bandages.

The two sat quietly as Ritsu carefully smoothed a fresh bandage over Shigeo’s arm. As he went to grab one last band-aid, Shigeo took a deep breath as if gathering the courage to speak. “Ritsu?” 

Ritsu began peeling the paper off the band-aid and glanced at his brother. “Yeah?” 

Shigeo bit his lip, shifting a bit as his eyes flicked down to the floor. “I… I’m sorry for ignoring you and for avoiding you. For everything…” Shigeo’s voice began to waver, and he could hardly look Ritsu in the eye. “I’ve been a horrible big brother.” 

Ritsu gasped, the words hitting him like a punch in the chest. He never wanted to hear those words out of his brother’s mouth. “No! No, you’re not!” he blurted out louder than he meant to, causing Shigeo to flinch. He shook his head furiously at the statement.  “Don’t say that! I’m… I’m sorry, too.”

Shigeo shook his head this time and tried to keep his soft voice from breaking a second time. “You shouldn’t be sorry! You didn’t do anything wrong,” he argued. 

Ritsu looked down at his hands, one holding the bandage, the other holding its empty wrapper.  “I still feel like I did. I don’t know. I’m just… Sorry, okay?” His voice was quiet, and neither brother looked at the other. 

“...Okay,” Shigeo muttered, his gaze shifting as Ritsu stuck on the last bandage. They stayed like that for a second before Ritsu finally reached out and pulled his brother into a light hug. Shigeo let out a shaky breath, his arms slowly reaching up to return the embrace. 

It wasn’t perfect, and it didn’t fix everything. But for now, it was enough. 

------

They had decided to remain inside their home, not daring to step beyond the safety of their walls or makeshift barricades. But even then, they knew issues would arise over time. Two days after the monsters had broken in, the power finally went out—no more comforting light or the hum of appliances. The quiet house was now absolutely dead silent. 

The day before that, the TV had stopped working. No news or emergency broadcasts, just static. Each channel was just dead air, an unsettling reminder that the outside world had gone silent. The only plus side was that the water was still running, for now at least. They weren't sure how long that would last either.

They did their best to occupy their minds with books and video games. Anything they could distract themselves with. But when the power had finally cut out, games were no longer an option, and reading could only be done with the sun up, as well as in certain areas of the house, since the thicker blankets on the windows blocked out most of the light.  

When it came to food, they had a decent amount to begin with, but they knew it wouldn't last. They focused on eating their perishables first, fruit, vegetables, bread, dairy, and eggs, knowing those would spoil quickly, especially without the fridge. No power also meant the packaged meat they had would spoil as well. Neither boy knew how to cook meat anyway, so their only option was to throw it out. It would go bad in a matter of a couple of days, and they didn't want the smell to possibly attract something their way. So, they wrapped it up and slung it outside as far as they could. 

When the perishables were gone, they moved on to the pantry. Canned goods, crackers, boxed snacks, and rice. Mom always bought a lot of rice, making sure they were always well-stocked, but it wouldn't last forever. They managed to find an old, portable stove tucked in Dad's camping gear from when they would take trips in the summer. It worked for a bit, helping them warm up a few meals or boil some water. But it required fuel, another thing they eventually ran out of. It had been over two weeks since everything started, and they were about out of food. They both knew what that meant. 

“I’ll go—”

“I’ll go—” 

They both spoke at the same time before glancing at each other, ready to argue. Neither wanted the other to leave. An unspoken fear lingered between them. If one of them left, there was a chance they might not come back. And, of course, each brother wanted to protect the other. 

“Shigeo, I can go. It’s fine,” Ritsu said quickly, trying his best to sound confident. 

“No!” Shigeo argued instantly, his eyes wide, his body tense. “I’ll go. I need to go. It's just… safer if I go.” 

“What do you mean?” Rtisu asked, frowning a bit. 

Shigeo let out a soft breath, lowering his gaze as his answer came. “I have my psychic powers. If anything happens, I can protect myself.” 

Unfortunately, Shigeo had a point. Ritsu didn’t have psychic powers like his brother did. There was no way he could protect himself. Ritsu also knew there was nothing he could say or do to change his brother’s mind. Still, it wasn’t fair that Shigeo had to be the one to do this. He had been through enough already. 

“It’s better if I go…” Shigeo muttered. “I’m sorry, Ritsu.” 

Ritsu hung his head and gave a slow, reluctant nod. “Okay… Just please be safe.” 

“I will, I promise.” The older brother offered a soft smile. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” 

They didn't say much more after that. Instead, they moved quietly toward the back of the house. The back window was easier to go through since they barricaded both the front and back doors. It was their go-to when they needed to step outside; all it took was pulling the blanket back. Though they didn't go out much, it was risky. Each night, they would hear growls echoing from somewhere outside or strange tapping and scratching on the outer walls of the house. The first couple of nights, they heard sirens blaring, but they eventually stopped and never started again. 

They had no idea what the world was like beyond their home. The neighborhood, the city, the entire country. It could've been in ruins for all they knew. Time felt strange, almost warped, as they remained inside the house. Days bled into each other as they tried to keep a simple routine to keep track of it all. They wouldn't dare peek outside, even when the sun shone brightly, filtering through the threads of their blanket curtains. They were afraid to see what might be out there. 

The window squeaked as they opened it, and Ritsu helped boost Shigeo up so he could climb through. He climbed out quickly, landing on the backyard grass with a soft thud. The sun hovered high in the sky as a few clouds drifted lazily by. It looked to be about late afternoon. After a quick look around, it appeared to be safe. 

He looked back up at Ritsu, who was cautiously peeking out, making sure nothing dangerous was about to jump out at them. 

“I’ll be back soon,” Shigeo promised, giving his brother a small, brave smile. “Please stay safe and hide if you need to.” 

Ritsu huffed, puffing out his cheeks. “I should be telling you that. You’re the one going out there.” 

“I’ll be okay,” Shigeo promised once more and then finally headed off. He didn’t plan on making a far trip. There was a small convenience store a couple of blocks outside the neighborhood. Shigeo just hoped he would actually find something there. The wind rustled the trees overhead, and every creak of the branches nearly made him jump. But Shigeo kept going, keeping a close eye out. 

The streets were quiet, eerily quiet. It wasn’t peaceful, like a calm afternoon in the neighborhood. This was haunting. Shigeo didn’t see or hear a single person. No voices or footsteps, not even the rumbling of a car. It was as if everyone simply vanished into thin air. 

Some houses had broken doors and windows, glass completely shattered, and spilled all over front steps and lawns. Cars were in the middle of the street but with no one inside them. Some of the doors hung open like someone left them in a rush. Just empty and abandoned, with windows broken out or scrapes along the sides, peeling paint, and metal. 

All Shigeo could hear was the sound of his shoes tapping against the pavement with each cautious step. There were no signs of life at all. The world felt frozen in time. The quiet was starting to get to him. It was thick and suffocating. Shigeo’s heart began to beat faster with every street he passed, every house. He couldn’t panic; he needed to focus on his task. He needed to find food for himself and Ritsu. He clenched his fists to keep his hands from trembling at his sides and forced himself to take a deep breath. 

Shigeo’s heart leaped into his throat, and he froze when he heard a sudden loud clatter. His breath hitched as his eyes scanned frantically for the source of the noise. That’s when he spotted it—just down the street, partially obscured by a tipped-over trash can. It was a monster about the size of a dog, and it was curiously digging through a pile of rotting garbage. 

It looked just like the others, a skeletal beast with minimal flesh on its body. Its skin was greyish and stretched over its body like old leather. Its claws clinked against the metal trash can, and its joints made a strange clicking sound. Its tail swished as it clawed at and tore into old trash like an animal would do. In fact, it looked a lot like an animal, just… scary. The way it moved, the way it shuffled about and dug into things, it reminded Shigeo of a stray cat. 

He blinked and realized he had his hand partially raised, ready to defend himself, but the monster was several houses away and didn’t even notice the young boy. It was too busy scavenging, its snout buried in old garbage and its tail flicking like an irritated feline. He watched the creature curiously for a moment and then slowly lowered his hand. A strange question then settled into his mind. Were these things just… animals? Trying to live and survive? 

Shigeo didn’t like hurting things. He never had. He wouldn’t even crush a bug if he didn’t have to. He was typically the designated spider catcher in the house. He would scoop them up gently and release them outside without harm. Hurting something, even something small, just felt wrong. 

This creature, this monster… It wasn’t bothering Shigeo, so he wasn’t going to bother it. It wasn’t threatening him; it was just existing, minding its own business. It was probably safer this way, anyway. They were still kind of scary to him, and he’d still defend himself if needed. But he wasn’t exactly sure what he could really do against one. Besides, he didn’t like using his powers to fight. 

So, Shigeo decided just to ignore the beast and move on before it saw him. He kept his steps light and careful, though his heart still thundered in his chest. It wasn’t long before he turned a corner and was safely out of sight. 

It was about a twenty-minute walk to the convenience store, and Shigeo wasn’t entirely sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this. Though he probably should have. The windows were busted and shattered, with some sharp pieces of glass still clinging to the frames. The automatic doors had been pried open and damaged. The inside was a mess. Shelves were knocked over, product was smashed or nearly cleared out. As he stepped inside, his shoes crunching over old bags and shattered glass, he wondered what had happened. Did monsters do this? Or was it people? 

He decided he shouldn’t worry about that right now and just see if he could find anything for him and Ritsu. The air was a bit musty and had a slightly sour smell from the old, rotting food. Shigeo tried not to think about it and would even hold his breath occasionally as he carefully picked through packages and shuffled through trash scattered across the dirty tile floor. Eventually, he found a few dented cans, a couple of half-crushed bags of chips, and a couple of packs of ramen, which they were unfortunately going to have to eat dry, but it was something.

He gathered them all into a thin, crinkled plastic bag he found behind the counter and quickly began his journey back home, back to Ritsu. He squinted in the early evening sun and gripped his bag tightly as he made his way back down the empty street. 

He managed to return safely without being seen or heard. A successful mission. He secured their bag of goodies around his arm as he hoisted himself back up through the window. He landed on his feet with a soft huff and made sure to tack the blanket back over the entryway. 

“Ritus, I’m back!” he called in his usual soft tone, though the silence of the house made it louder than he expected. He set the bag on the kitchen floor and began to shuffle through it, sorting what he managed to find. It wasn’t much, and this amount would probably only last them a few days, but it was better than nothing. It was then that he realized they may also need other essentials besides food. Batteries, first aid supplies, and more. He briefly wondered if all the other stores in the city would be somewhat barren, just like the convenience store. 

He stored all their items safely in a low cabinet in the kitchen, making it easier for them to reach. But as the quiet settled in again, Shigeo noticed something. He hadn’t heard Ritsu’s voice. No footsteps, no greeting, nothing at all. His brows furrowed as unease began to creep up his spine. “Ritsu?” he called once again as he wandered into the living room. Nothing. 

He started to get worried but quickly brushed it off. Ritsu could be anywhere in the house. He might be reading in his room. Still, something gnawed at him. Shigeo slowly made his way to the stairs and glanced up them. He called for his brother once more but only received silence. 

Shigeo tightly gripped the railing before slowly making his way upstairs, each step creaking eerily. As he reached the top and started down the hall, he called for his brother again, his voice beginning to sound uncertain. He made his way to Ritsu’s door and noticed it was halfway open, but he didn’t hear much beyond it. A chill crawled up his spine as he slowly crept forward and reached out with a trembling hand.

“Ritsu?” he called once more, his voice dropping to a whisper as he slowly pushed the door open. That’s when he felt like his heart had stopped, his mind coming to a crashing halt. Ritsu’s window was busted open, and the blanket used to cover it was hanging off, half torn and fluttering in the breeze. His eyes dropped to the center of the floor, where a familiar stain lingered. Dark, wet, and fresh. It wasn’t a pool but a quick splatter, like something or someone had been cut, the blood spilling and dripping onto the wood. Shigeo stood paralyzed. The room was empty. Ritsu was gone. 

“Ritsu!” Shigeo shouted, his voice panicked as he tore through the room. He threw open the closet, ducked to look under the bed, and crawled under the desk. Nothing. All that was in the room with him was a spatter of fresh blood. 

Shigeo sank to his knees beside it, his chest heaving and his body shaking as he stared at the dark spot. Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision as they silently ran down his cheeks. His chest ached, like his heart was crumpling inside him. All he wanted was to protect his younger brother and keep him safe. And now, Ritsu was gone… He shouldn’t have left. 

“R-Ritsu…” Shigeo cried, his voice weak and broken. He hunched forward, hanging his head low as a wave of nausea rolled over him.  

He swallowed hard and drew in a sharp breath, his tears falling from his cheeks and to the floor, mixing with the red liquid. The sight only made his stomach twist more. That’s when Shigeo heard a noise behind him, a soft creak that caught his attention. He swiftly lifted his head, hoping it was who he thought it was. 

“Ritsu!” He sprang up and turned, only to be severely disappointed. Creeping into the doorway wasn’t his brother but a monster. Half-shrouded in shadow from the hall. Not just any monster, though. It was the same beast he saw earlier, pawing through garbage like a stray animal. He recognized its size and head shape, which was like a canine skull. Its bony form slinked forward, its head low, and that’s when Shigeo noticed another detail—fresh blood on its claws. His stomach dropped. 

Shigeo gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. His breathing picked up again, but not from fear or panic, but from something else. His power began to surge through him like a raging sea. His hair began to drift and float from his face, and his clothes ruffled. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from its blood-stained claws—his brother’s blood. 

Shigeo never wanted to hurt anyone or anything. He was always a gentle and sweet boy. He never got angry or frustrated. Many people thought he was incapable of doing so. Even when people pushed him, he held back. Violence was something he avoided, and anger was rarely felt, but now... 

His heart felt like it was cracking open, and what poured out wasn't fear but something darker. He stared at the beast before him as something inside him snapped. That mercy he had offered the beast earlier, thinking it was just like any other animal trying to survive, was gone. It had taken Ritsu. It had taken his little brother, the only person he had left... 

A deep, searing hatred surged through him as his fingertips buzzed with psychic energy. It didn't matter what this thing was. It didn't matter if it was hungry, lost, or scared. He didn't care anymore. He no longer felt fear toward these creatures. All he felt now was hate, hate , HATE . He was going to make this monster pay. He was going to make it suffer . 

He was no longer thinking rationally anymore. All thought had vanished, burned up in the firestorm of emotions. He was going to exact revenge for everything they’d done. To his parents and his brother. To him… They took everything from him! He had nothing left! 

Shigeo swiftly raised both his hands and, for the first time in a while, let his psychic energy flow. It crackled around him like lightning. He had been too scared to use his powers after everything, but now, it was all he had, all he knew. 

The familiar feeling of his powers flowed as blue and purple hues spilled forward, like tendrils of power swirling through the air. The pressure in the room seemed to double. The creature snarled and began to lunge, but it never reached him. It suddenly stopped, frozen in place. It could no longer move. Shigeo had caught it in a ruthless psychic grip. 

It writhed and struggled, letting out a low guttural growl like a threat. But Shigeo didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. He wasn’t letting go. His aura flared brighter as the beast kept trying to fight. 

Shigeo glared coldly at the beast, his eyes locked onto the monster as if he could burn a hole right through it. He continued to hold it steady, drawing in a sharp breath through clenched teeth. He poured in all his concentration as he slowly curled his hand into a fist, willing the creature's body to crack and crumble beneath the force. But its body held firm, tough, and stubborn. The bones hardly even cracked. Shigeo narrowed his eyes, already shifting to a new plan. If he can't crush it, then he'll just have to tear it apart, piece by piece.

First, the creature's claws and toes began to bend with a sickening series of cracks, then the limbs were next. One by one, they twisted under Shigeo’s control. The creature screeched and thrashed as Shigeo continued to bend its body in unnatural ways. The sound of bone cracking and snapping, as well as the monster’s guttural cries, filled the room. 

Shigeo didn’t stop. His breathing was now steady, and his eyes were filled with rage.  His hands moved in a rhythmic motion as his powers continued to bring pain and destruction. After its limbs and tail were broken, hanging twisted and limp, it still continued to fight, snapping its jaw in Shigeo’s direction. Not good enough . 

Shigeo used all his power as he pulled, twisted, and pulled again until something finally gave with a nauseating tearing and popping sound. A limb tore free, then another, then another. He ripped its limbs off one by one, and he crushed its torso, forcing it to fold in on itself with unbearable pressure. But still, the creature refused to die. Its movements were slowing now, but it still growled and cried, not of pain, but of fear. It was scared of him. Good . 

Eventually, there was only one part Shigeo had yet to touch—the head. In one more rush of energy, he seized its jaw and wrenched it open until it cracked and tore loose. Then, with one final flick of his hand, he pulled the head from its spine with a disgusting snap . The skull-like face hit the floor with a heavy thud, rolling once before coming to a stop; its glowing eyes dimmed and stared at nothing. 

Then, everything was silent. 

It finally stopped moving and making sounds after that; there was no more screeching or clawing. It was finally dead. Shigeo’s chest heaved as he tried to let himself relax, finally. His hand shook slightly before he finally let it fall to his side. Only then did he let out a long, steady breath. It was over. 

He glanced down at his hands. They were still trembling. He tore it apart… Yet, the weight didn’t lift from his shoulders. If anything, it pressed harder. He felt sick all over again, but he tried to shake it off. The beast deserved it. 

Shigeo glared at the body of the creature, feeling no remorse. He could still see the blood on its claws and felt tears in his eyes once again. “Ritsu…” he whispered, his voice cracking. His gaze slowly drifted back to the floor, to the red stain that will forever haunt his memory. 

Shigeo was now completely alone…

Chapter Text

The office was dark and a bit chilly, with only pale moonlight seeping in through the window blinds, casting silver beams across the dusty floor. Reigen sat slouched on the floor, his back against the couch, completely exhausted. It had already been a whole day since they arrived at his old office, and he hadn’t rested once. 

Dimple had slipped out the night before, heading out on a mission to try and steal some medicine for Mob. But… That had been over twenty-four hours ago, and he still hadn’t returned. There was no sign of him. 

Reigen tried not to let it weigh on his mind, but every hour that passed only made his stomach sink deeper into a pit of dread. The longer the spirit stayed gone, the more hopeless it seemed. This was it. Dimple wasn't coming back. He was probably dust by now, exorcised into oblivion. It was basically a suicide mission for the spirit. Reigen had sent him into a nest of hostile espers with no real plan besides get medicine for Mob . He felt bad for the spirit, practically sending him to his doom. But he felt worse for Mob. The boy lay there, pale, feverish, and barely hanging on. Reigen felt like he was failing him yet again. 

He felt like he couldn't do a single damn thing right. He had come up empty trying to help the kid, only finding cheap shit that wouldn’t cure anything. The one plan he finally came up with backfired spectacularly. And then, to top it all off, he sent a random spirit to execute the plan for him. 

He hung his head in shame, letting out a deep sigh. Even when things were normal and monsters didn't rule the planet, he still felt like such a failure. A conman stuck in his ways. Guess not even the end of the world can help you outrun your problems. 

He rubbed his tired eyes and slowly raised his head to glance at the sick child resting on his couch. Mob's thin, ratty blue blanket hung off of him loosely. His breathing remained short and wheezy, each breath sounding like it took real effort. His cheeks were flushed as his body radiated heat. He just looked genuinely uncomfortable. He hadn't moved much at all since they got there. 

Reigen's stomach twisted. "I'm sorry, kid," he muttered. "You don't deserve any of this." He sat there for a long moment, listening to Mob's raspy breaths and just trying to keep himself together. 

Reigen then jolted and tore his gaze away when a sudden, rhythmic knock echoed through the dark office. For a second, it felt like he forgot how to breathe, and his thoughts immediately began to race. Who the hell was here? Monsters don’t knock. That was a person. It had to be. Was it Claw? Did they follow them here? They didn’t see the pair come in here, did they? He glanced at Mob quickly, then back to the door, his heart pounding in his ears. 

Reigen swallowed hard and slowly rose to his feet. Every step toward the door felt heavy, his body stiff as he wondered what was on the other side. Carefully, he reached behind him and pulled the handgun from his back pocket. His fingers trembled slightly as he clicked off the safety, gripping the weapon tightly in both hands. 

No second round of knocks came. It was as if whoever was on the other side of the door was still waiting for an answer. The silence stretched on uncomfortably, doing little to stop his racing heart as he slowly crept toward the door. 

When he was just several inches from it, Reigen paused and glanced back behind him. Mob hadn't moved or even stirred. No matter who or what was out there, Reigen was going to protect this kid. He turned back to the door, quietly flipped the lock, and drew in a deep breath as he placed a hand on the knob. Then, in one quick twist and pull, Reigen yanked the door open and raised his gun in a single fluid motion. His eyes were cold and harsh as he glared at the figure on the other side.

Standing in the doorway was a tall man, clutching a heavy-looking bag by the straps. His dark hair looked like it had once been neatly combed but had since lost the battle. He had deep-set and tired-looking eyes as well as... rosy cheeks? 

“Oi, you wanna watch where you’re pointing that thing?” the man asked dryly, clearly annoyed. 

Reigen blinked, his brain scrambling. The gun dipped slightly as he lowered his hands. “Dimple?!” 

The man looked irritated, maybe even a little insulted. "Yeah. Who else would it be? Now, are you gonna let me in, or what?" 

Just like the first time he had met the spirit, Reigen's brain was trying desperately to play catch-up. It took a second, but he finally stepped aside, watching in stunned silence as the man, who was apparently Dimple, strolled in like he owned the place. Reigen quietly shoved the gun into his back pocket and shut the door again, still not entirely sure if he was hallucinating from stress or sleep deprivation.

Reigen stammered for a moment as he took a step forward, completely and utterly confused. 

“It's called a possession,” Dimple said with a dismissive wave but offered no further explanation. 

“Okay, but who the hell is this guy?” Reigen asked as he hurried after the spirit and his temporary body. 

“No clue. Some rando at the Claw base,” Dimple replied with a shrug. “I needed a body to finish this stupid mission. You’re welcome, by the way.” He sounded smug and tired at the same time as he tossed the bag onto the nearby coffee table with a heavy thud that echoed through the quiet room. The sound was loud enough to make Reigen flinch slightly, but Mob, fast asleep just a few feet away, didn’t even stir. 

“Sorry it took so long,” Dimple sighed, unzipping the pack. “Had to make sure I was getting the right shit, which meant figuring out what exactly we needed first. It was a total hassle.” 

The spirit’s newly possessed body sorted through the bag, eyes scanning bottles and labels. "It's mostly standard meds, pills, liquids. There are a couple of antibiotic shots, too." He paused and glanced at Mob. "Not sure how the kid feels about needles, so maybe give him those first thing while he's still out. Then, once he wakes up, you can force-feed him the pills." Dimple held up a bottle, giving it a slight shake with a creepy, cheerful smile on his face. 

“I don’t know how comfortable I am giving him a shot,” Reigen admitted, glancing toward Mob with uncertainty.  “Can’t you do it?” 

“Nope!” Dimple said, emphasizing the P sound. “I’ve done my part. More than my part, by the way.” He then began to dig through the bag again, ignoring Reigen’s frown. “I got you a bunch of these,” he explained, pulling out an MRE pack. 

Reigen stared, baffled. "What? No. Why? You were only supposed to steal the medicine and get out of there, not ransack the place." 

Dimple snorted, casually tossing another pack onto the table. "Why does it matter?” he shot back. “You said yourself those Claw bastards stole this crap anyway. Why not steal from them? You need food, don't you?" 

Reigen opened his mouth, then closed it again, shaking his head as his eyes once again landed on Mob. They did need food... "I mean, yeah, but..."

"But nothing,” Dimple cut in quickly. “These jackasses had pallets of this shit lying around. They most likely stole it from a military base or something. Stop being such a baby." 

Reigen sighed, resisting the urge to drag a hand down his face. Even if it was helpful, it was a big risk the spirit did not need to take. 

"I also got some of these for the kid," Dimple added, pulling out a small but colorful box. Reigen leaned in for a better look. Broth cubes. Simple, light, and easy on the stomach. Honestly, they were perfect for Mob until he could eat actual food again without throwing it up everywhere. 

Reigen wanted to be mad. He should be mad. Dimple had gone off-script, taken risks, and stolen way more than he should have. However, it was honestly a good call and actually quite thoughtful. 

"Thanks..." Reigen muttered a bit reluctantly.

Dimple huffed proudly, smirking a bit. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” The spirit threw his arms out before taking a few steps toward the door. “Now, I’m gonna go toss this guy somewhere, and I’ll be back.” 

Reigen immediately interjected. “What? No, don’t just toss him somewhere !” He stepped forward, blocking Dimple, his tone sharp. “Take him back.” Reigen didn’t care if the guy was with Claw or not. He was still a person, and he wasn’t about to let Dimple leave the poor bastard in the street somewhere in a city full of hungry monsters. They were supposed to be better than them. 

“I can’t possibly have heard you right…” Dimple stared in disbelief. 

“You did,” Reigen said firmly. “Take him back to the camp or wherever you found him.” 

Dimple narrowed his eyes at the man as he once again asked, “Why does it matter? You talk about how horrible these jackasses are, so who cares if I leave this guy in the street somewhere?” 

Reigen rubbed his tired eyes, not wanting to argue on this anymore. “ I care . Because I’m not like them. Just take him back…”

Dimple stared for another few seconds before he sighed and shook his head. "Fine, I'll take him back to the Claw base." He made his way to the door, pausing with one hand on the handle. He glanced back at Reigen over his shoulder, his voice less sarcastic and more honest. "You're too kind, Reigen. That'll get you killed." With that, he left, the door clicking shut behind him. 

Reigen stood there a moment, staring at the closed door before letting his shoulders sag. He lowered himself to the floor beside the coffee table and began sifting through the supplies Dimple managed to bring back.

------

Reigen carefully rolled up a sleeve on Mob’s oversized hoodie, revealing a pale, skinny arm that looked far too fragile. He drew in an anxious breath as he grabbed one of the syringes off the table. His fingers trembled a bit as he popped the cap off the needle, trying not to look too closely at it. He was never a fan of needles. 

“Will you relax?” came the voice of the obnoxious green spirit floating nearby. “You’re just giving him a couple of quick shots, not performing surgery.” 

Reigen resisted the urge to glare at the annoying blob. “Are you sure this is the right stuff?” he asked, squinting at the murky liquid within the syringe as he held it up to the moonlight. 

“Yes, I’m sure!” Dimple snapped. “I told you that’s why it took so long. I had to make sure I was getting the right shit! I didn’t just grab random meds and hope they would work. I even had to fill those syringes myself.” 

Reigen exhaled and positioned the needle near Mob’s arm, only to pause and hover there a moment. 

“It’s just a quick poke,” Dimple said, rolling his eyes. “The kid’s out cold. He won’t even feel it.” 

Reigen nodded and tried again, only to freeze a second time.

“Don’t just jab it in, though,” Dimple added casually. “You might hit the bone in his skinny arm or something.” 

Now, Reigen was starting to feel nauseous, and his hands were shaking even more. “Dimple, please stop talking…” 

“Just trying to be helpful,” the spirit shrugged lazily while being entirely unhelpful. He was right, though. Reigen was dragging this out. 

He took a second to re-collect himself and then finally went for it, gently sticking Mob’s arm with the needle. He moved slowly, carefully pushing the plunger down with precision, like he was still somehow performing surgery. He still hated every second of it, but he finally did it. Mob didn’t even flinch. 

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” Dimple commented. Reigen shot the spirit a look, tired and annoyed. He could really do without the comments. 

He huffed and quickly gave the second shot, this time without hesitation. Once both needles were discarded, he settled again and looked through the other medications. “Sorry, I was just worried about hurting the kid more.” 

Dimple hovered over his shoulder. “What? Does he not like needles or something?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Reigen admitted, not looking up. “I haven’t known the kid that long.” 

There was a short second of silence before Dimple quirked a brow. “What do you mean?”

Reigen chuckled awkwardly. “I met Mob maybe… a week ago.” 

“What?!” The green spirit looked shocked and even a bit angry. “Are you serious?! Based on how desperate you’ve been to save this kid, I assumed you’ve known each other for maybe a few years. You’re telling me I risked my ass for a kid you’ve only known for a week ?!” 

Reigen cringed a bit, scratching the back of his neck. “Sort of… But hey, it turned out just fine! You’re still here, and you got the medicine we needed.” 

Dimple stared at him, clearly unimpressed, as he crossed his ghostly arms. 

Reigen shifted uncomfortably under the spirit’s gaze. He began to feel a bit bad. “Anyway, thanks… I couldn’t have done it without you. Seriously…” There was a slight guilt in his voice as he frowned, glancing over at the sleeping boy. 

“I just…” He exhaled softly, rubbing a hand over his tired face. “I feel like no matter what I do, I keep messing up and failing this kid. I just feel like I’m not doing enough.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dimple asked, casually drifting over to the window without looking back. “You’ve done plenty.” 

“No, I haven’t,” Reigen insisted. “I couldn’t even get him what he needed. You’re the one who told me I needed actual medicine, and you’re the one who actually got it for him. I’ve done nothing.” 

Dimple let out an exaggerated sigh and looked back at the man. "Yeah, and whose dumbass plan was it to go get that medicine in the first place? Yours . You could have left him. Most people would have done that. They'd call him dead weight and wouldn't have even bothered. But you didn't. You stuck with the kid. You even carried him halfway across a monster-infested city." By the end of that, Dimple huffed, and his wispy form seemed to puff up indignantly. "You're doing just fine, Reigen."

There was a quiet pause before Dimple shook his form as if shaking his head. "Jeez, first-time parent, huh?" 

Reigen turned to Dimple, blinking in confusion. “What?” 

“You know how first-time parents always think they’re doing everything wrong?” he asked, floating lazily by the window, his green glow reflected against the glass. “It’s clear you’re a first-timer.” 

Reigen gave the spirit a grumpy look. “I’m not a parent, and Mob is not my kid. I just… wanted to help him,” he muttered, fiddling with his jacket, gaze dropping to the floor. “And maybe I just didn’t want to be alone again…” he admitted. “And I don’t think Mob wants to be either.” 

Dimple stared at him for a long moment before scoffing again with a slight snicker. “You humans… You’re pathetic, Reigen,” he teased. “You cling to the first person you come across cause you’re so desperate for human interaction and connection.” 

Reigen didn’t care what Dimple said or how much he made fun of him. It wouldn’t deter him from sticking close to Mob. He wouldn’t abandon this kid who clearly needed someone—a kid who had already been through hell at such a young age. 

A stillness settled between them before Dimple piped up again, floating a bit closer. “Have you slept at all? You look like shit.” How nice of him to notice. 

Reigen sighed, too tired to even argue. “No, I’ve been waiting on you, and I have to keep an eye on Mob.” 

Dimple gave him a deadpan expression. “Reigen, the kid’s not going anywhere. Stop being dramatic and get some rest. I can keep watch.” 

Reigen ran a hand through his hair, looking a bit unsure. “But, what if something happens? What if he… just doesn’t wake up?” 

Dimple let out a quiet grumble as he slowly hovered over the couch. He still couldn’t believe this guy was so worried about a teenager he hardly knew. “You’ve already got those antibiotics in him,” he muttered. “And from the looks of it, the fever’s reached its peak. If he pulls through the night, he’ll be just fine. Now get some fucking sleep…” 

Reigen didn't respond right away. He sat there, a bit hesitant, watching Mob like the boy might stop breathing the moment he looked away. But Reigen finally gave in. He sighed heavily and finally lay back, settling on the floor right beside the couch. It was, of course, cold and uncomfortable, but what else was new? 

"Fine, I'll only sleep for a little bit," he said quietly, closing his eyes. It didn't take long for exhaustion to finally pull him under, and he was out within minutes. 

Dimple shook his head, hovering back toward the window. "Idiot," he mumbled. 

------

Everything hurt. His head throbbed with a dull, pulsing ache. His throat was dry and scratchy like sandpaper. Even his upper arm felt a bit sore and tender. Maybe he was hit or grabbed. He can't remember. He tried to think and piece things together. The last thing he remembered was... Reigen. He was on the ground, a sword against his throat. He looked terrified, desperate, and defeated. 

Was he okay? Was he... 

Mob sucked in a sharp breath that caught halfway down. The pain seized in his chest and nearly sent him into a coughing fit, but he clenched his jaw and managed to hold it back. He swallowed to ease the burning in his throat, but his mouth felt so dry. His body felt sore and heavy, but he quickly realized that something felt different. He wasn't lying on the cold warehouse floor or jagged concrete. He was lying on something soft, warm, and cushy. There was also a warmth that settled over him. Blankets? 

It felt like... He was back home in his own bed. But that wasn't right. 

When he was finally able to force his eyes open, all he saw was darkness. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust as faint hints of moonlight poured into the area, revealing what he hadn't seen in pale, silver outlines. He was in a small room of some kind, plain and unfamiliar. 

He turned his head slightly, his muscles aching a bit with the effort. It was quiet, and he didn't see anyone, not even Reigen. He thought he was alone, but then something caught his eye. A faint green glow hovered near the window. Mob narrowed his eyes, blinking slowly, as he tried to bring the strange shape into focus. Ah... A spirit. It was facing away from him, looking out toward the street below.

It had been a long time since Mob had seen a spirit. They used to be everywhere. He couldn't walk ten feet without seeing one. But now, they hardly appeared at all. At that moment, everything else, his sore body, the unfamiliar room, all faded into the background. His focus was now drawn to the green apparition. 

A gentle glow radiated off the spirit. It reminded him of a glow stick. Not enough to brighten the room, but still comforting. Though Mob couldn't see its face, the spirit somehow seemed a bit sad and lost, the way it hovered there, staring out the window. 

Mob slowly raised his head. The room tilted slightly, and fuzzy shadows swarmed the edge of his vision, but he kept his gaze locked on the spirit. Maybe he should exorcise it. Put it out of its misery. There was nothing left anymore, not for humans or spirits. It would be better off, right? He blinked; his thoughts felt slow and sticky as if they were dragging through mud. Right! 

He slowly pushed himself to sit up, one unsteady hand gripping the edge of whatever he was lying on. The other he raised shakily, weakly splaying his fingers, though he was having a hard time focusing. Not only that, but his powers once again felt weak, like gentle ripples that flowed loosely. That was okay. The spirit was small; it wouldn't take much. 

Just as his energy began to gather in his palm, very slowly like dripping honey, the spirit started to turn. At first, its face was unreadable, but it only lasted for a split second as its expression quickly morphed into one of shock and fear. Its eyes widened like it knew exactly what Mob was trying to do. Did it not want to be exorcised? It was better this way, right? He was helping the spirit. It was… better. 

He tried to shake the cloudy thoughts from his head and the shadows from his vision. He needed to focus. He leaned forward a little more, arm raised and fingers twitching, ready to release the weak surge of energy he managed to gather. But then his grip gave out, his other palm slipping off the edge of the couch. Before he could even react, he was falling. 

As he toppled forward, he expected his hand to hit the floor, but instead, it dove straight into something soft, warm, and squishy. He heard a pained grunt from somewhere below him. The sound sent a jolt of recognition through his foggy brain. He knew that voice. He felt more awake now that he realized what he had just done. He had just accidentally punched Reigen in the gut. Oops... 

Mob immediately panicked and scrambled backward, dragging his upper body back onto the couch like a startled cat. "R-Reigen, I'm sorry," he apologized in an instant, his voice still weak and barely audible. "I-I didn't mean—”

Reigen sat up quickly. But... He didn't seem upset that Mob had just accidentally dive-bombed him in the stomach. Instead, he looked happy and relieved, his tired features softening a bit. "Mob!" he exclaimed, smiling instantly. "You're awake!" 

Though the kid was finally up, he looked way too out of it for Reigen's liking. His expression was distant and confused. Even in the dim, blueish morning light, Reigen could see how pale he was, which contrasted greatly against his flushed face and the dark bruise along his upper cheekbone. Mob also had heavy shadows beneath his eyes, making him look completely exhausted. 

The teenager blinked slowly, then squinted as if Reigen's face was still taking a moment to register. "Where...?" he finally mumbled. He knew what he was trying to ask, but the words were just not coming to him. 

"We're at my old office," Reigen answered, gesturing vaguely around them. "It's not much, but it's safe here. I'm not sure how much you remember from when I carried you here. But don't worry, we're safe now." 

Mob’s brows furrowed in confusion like he was still trying to catch up.  “There was…” he muttered, trailing off as his eyes slowly drifted back to the window, but the spirit was gone. It must be hiding. “A spirit…” he said, rubbing at one eye with his hand as if it might help clear some of the static in his brain. 

Reigen chuckled quietly. “That was Dimple.”

Mob’s hand froze mid-motion. “Dimple…?” He looked more disoriented now than ever. He then noticed the green blob was hovering just behind Reigen, half hidden and using him as a shield. Mob slowly raised his hand again, and Dimple nearly yelped out of fear as he peeked over Reigen’s shoulder. 

“Reigen! Control your brat! He’s gonna exorcise me!” 

Reigen blinked in surprise, then quickly reached out and gently grabbed Mob’s wrist, lowering his hand. Was that what he was trying to do? “Hey, Mob, it’s okay,” he said softly. “Dimple’s a friend. He helped us. It’s… a long story, I guess.” Honestly, he wasn’t even sure if Mob would even process it at the moment. 

Even in a dazed state, Mob seemed to tense up slightly under Reigen’s touch. However, Reigen held on, keeping his grip gentle. He wasn’t sure if the kid would try anything else, even though he looked like he might pass out at any second. 

Dimple cautiously floated to the side, keeping his distance. “Jeez, even half-dead, the kid still wanted to exorcise me.” 

“He’s just confused,” Reigen muttered, still keeping his eyes on Mob. The boy’s gaze flicked between the conman and the spirit, his eyes and thoughts still foggy from fever and exhaustion. But after a few moments, his body seemed to relax a bit more, and he lowered his hand fully on his own. Reigen exhaled softly and finally let go of the boy’s wrist.

Reigen watched the boy for a long moment. As relieved as he was that the kid was actually awake, it was clear Mob wasn't all there. Reigen knew that meant the kid wasn't out of the woods just yet. It was probably a miracle that Mob was even up right now. It also meant Reigen had a narrow window to get the next dose of medicine into him while he was still somewhat responsive. 

"Okay, Mob," he said, already shifting toward the table. "I need you to take some meds for me, alright?" 

He reached over to the coffee table, where the medications Dimple had brought back sat neatly in a row. He quickly grabbed what he needed, double-checking labels and dumping a few pills into his hand. His other hand reached for his bag, pulling out a half-crumpled bottle of water. At least Mob was too out of it to even ask where the medicine might have come from. That was a conversation for later. Right now, Reigen just wanted to focus on getting the kid through the next several hours. 

Luckily, Mob had enough sense left to take the meds. He was dazed and slow-moving but obedient, holding the offered water bottle in a dangerously loose grip. Reigen prayed it wouldn't spill as he offered one pill after another to Mob. The boy would then lazily pop one or two into his mouth and wash them down with a sip of water. It was as if he was operating on nothing but muscle memory and trust. 

However, by the time Reigen got to the fifth or so pill, Mob looked completely over it. He wrinkled his nose slightly and stared down at the remaining water in the bottle like it personally offended him. His mouth morphed into a tired grimace, and he turned his head away. He was done, and Reigen didn't blame him. Luckily, that was it for now. 

"That's it," Reigen said quickly, snagging the water bottle from Mob's grip before it could spill. "No more for now. Good job, bud." 

Mob didn't respond, but his shoulders slumped a bit like he was relieved at the news. Not only that, but those words… Good job, bud. They settled in his mind like a warm blanket. They were familiar and comforting. They stirred something in his memory. 

It reminded him of… his dad… The way he would gently ruffle his hair and say those exact words when he was proud of him or happy when Mob overcame something. Even if it was something small. Mob’s eyes stung a bit, but no tears came. He was too tired. 

He sat there for a few more moments, gently swaying like a plant in the wind, his tired body trying to decide if it had enough strength to stay upright. Turns out, it did not, and Mob gave in, slowly lowering himself back down onto the couch. He blinked blearily at the ceiling, letting out a few quiet and strained coughs before his eyes drifted shut again. Within moments, he was out cold. 

Reigen sat back and let out a tired sigh. He wasn't sure if it was the meds that knocked the kid out so quickly or just his sheer exhaustion. Probably both. It didn't matter, though. Reigen was grateful. Grateful that Mob had woken up and grateful he had taken the meds. It was a good start. 

Reigen silently picked up the blanket that had fallen to the floor and loosely laid it over the boy again. It was then that he noticed Dimple had seemingly disappeared. He most likely didn't want to stick around with Mob so out of it and eager to exorcise the spirit. But Reigen was sure he'd be back. 

------

Dimple did, in fact, return several hours later. It was about midday by that point. At first, Reigen was annoyed that the spirit disappeared on him, and he no longer had someone to keep watch. However, after a while, he began to feel a bit better about getting some sleep. Mob had already woken up once, and he was able to get the kid to take some medicine at that time, so he let himself breathe and relax a bit, allowing himself to fall asleep for a short time. 

Maybe he was putting a little too much trust in Dimple's confidence. But still, when Reigen woke up hours later, Mob was still breathing. But the kid had been sleeping an awful lot lately, and it was really starting to worry Reigen. Mob had barely stirred since that brief moment this morning. 

When Dimple finally drifted back into the office, he looked at Mob warily but still had the decency to ask, "So, how’s the kid?"

Reigen glanced at the couch, then back at the spirit. "He's still out cold,” he said quietly. “His fever has actually gone down just a tiny bit, but he still hasn't woken up since this morning. I'm honestly a bit worried."

The spirit scoffed and waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry so much,” he replied confidently. “It’s a good thing. His body is getting the rest it needs to recover. He made it through the night. As long as you keep up with the meds and let him rest, he should pull through.”

Reigen hummed from where he sat, having taken up residence at his old desk. The chair was just as uncomfortable as he remembered. Stiff, creaky, and bad for his back. “I was thinking of running out and getting some supplies for us.” 

Dimple huffed, looking slightly irritated. “I just risked my ass to get you some supplies. Now you need more?” 

“ Different supplies, Dimple,” he said as he leaned forward, his chair squeaking softly. “But I don’t want to leave Mob to wake up alone. He was already confused as hell earlier. I don’t want him to open his eyes and think I bailed on him.” 

The spirit drifted closer. “You want me to run and get these supplies for you?”

Reigen immediately shook his head, already frowning a bit. “No! I’d rather you not play body snatcher again. But there might be something else you can do for me. I’m thinking of moving on. Getting out of the city. I was hoping you could scout things out.” 

Dimple blinked, clearly surprised. “Wait, you’re leaving? What about the kid?” 

“Mob is gonna come with me, obviously,” the man shot back. “It’s just… there’s nothing left here. It’s not safe, and I honestly don’t want to hide in my old office until Claw or something worse sniffs us out. Mob needs something better than this.” 

Dimple floated in silence for a moment. “Are you sure the kid even wants to go with you?” he asked cautiously. 

Reigen sighed, his gaze dropping to his scuffed and dusty desk. “I’m seriously hoping he will.”

The spirit stared for another long second before giving a slow nod. “Alright. Do you have a destination in mind?” 

“No,” Reigen said flatly. “That’s the problem. I’m not too sure where to start. But there has to be something out there. Somewhere safe.” He wasn’t too confident in that aspect, but he could hope. Was anywhere safe anymore?

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes drifting to the window. Even through the cracks in the blinds, he could still see the ruined buildings around them. “Also, if we’re going to leave the city, I need to know where to go. Which roads are blocked, and where the hellhounds are lurking. That’s why I want you to scout ahead.” 

Dimple squinted at the man, looking slightly irritated that Reigen stole his nickname for the beasts, but then he let out a long sigh. “Alright. I get it.” He gave a quick nod, and he seemed more serious than usual. “I’ll see what’s out there. I’ll try to find you a good route out of the city and maybe a good direction to head in once you’re clear.” 

Reigen actually looked surprised that Dimple agreed so quickly. “Hm… I figured you’d fight me more on this, or would have just said no. You can be kind of… a jerk, but…” He hesitated, eyeing the spirit. “Why are you so willing to help us?” 

It was a genuine question. He had only met the spirit a couple days ago, and yet Dimple had already gone out of his way and risked himself for two humans he hardly knew. Despite everything, he was starting to feel like part of the group. 

Dimple looked a tad bit embarrassed but quickly tried to play it off. “Tch, don’t read too much into it. I just have nothing better to do, that’s all. It was getting quite boring sitting in that old pharmacy for who knows how long. It's not cause I like you or the brat! I’m just bored.” He waved a dismissive hand, his voice sounding a little too defensive.  

Before Dimple could spiral and embarrass himself further, he turned and floated toward the window, muttering something under his breath as he passed through it, disappearing out of sight. 

Reigen watched the spirit go with a somewhat crooked smile. His gaze then drifted to Mob, who was still sleeping peacefully despite everything. 

“We’ll figure this out, kid,” he said quietly. “Don’t worry.” 

------

Mob finally woke up a bit later in the day, and this time, he was a lot more coherent than before. He could sit up with a bit more ease; his gaze wasn't as distant and lost, and his words, though still few, were clearer. Enough time had also passed for Mob to have another round of meds, which the boy was definitely not thrilled about, but he still complied. 

As much as Reigen didn't want to leave the kid, he knew it was the best window he'd get. Mob was awake, and he still had some daylight left. He crouched in front of the boy, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. Mob didn't seem to tense up as much under his touch this time. "I'm gonna head out for a bit, okay? I'll be back soon," he said, looking the boy straight in the eye. "I just gotta look for a few more supplies while it's still light out."

Reigen slowly rose to his feet, and Mob simply looked at him, remaining silent. The kid still seemed a bit hazy, like his brain was working a bit slower than usual. But Reigen noticed something else in his eyes that nearly stopped him mid-step as he turned to leave. Mob was watching him go, not with fear or confusion, but with a hint of trust. It still seemed hesitant, but it was slowly getting to a point where Reigen wasn't just someone helping him anymore. He was someone Mob was starting to rely on. And it hit Reigen harder than he expected as a strange warmth bloomed in his chest. Something he had never felt before. 

"I'll be quick," he added, offering the boy a confident smile. "I promise." 

Mob remained silent but gave a tiny nod. After that, Reigen finally headed out.

It was a few hours later when the office door suddenly creaked open again, and Reigen came scrambling in with his arms full of random bags like he had just gotten back from a shopping trip. His jacket was unzipped, and despite the cold weather, sweat clung to his forehead, making him look as though he had just run a marathon. 

Mob sat up on the couch; the faint rustle of the bags stirred him. The boy's tired eyes seemed to light up just a little with recognition and even relief. "You're back," he muttered weakly, his voice still completely shot. 

"I told you I'd be back, kid." Reigen sounded breathless, but he still managed a smile for Mob. "I got you some things," he said as he moved closer and set the bags down with a huff. His legs once again felt like jelly, like he could collapse at any moment. 

Mob stared at him, a little surprised, like the idea of someone bringing him something was a strange one. "You got... me some things?" 

Reigen nodded and let out a tired sigh as he finally settled on the floor beside the couch, his knees cracking uncomfortably in the process. He then began rifling through the bags he had dragged in, the plastic crinkling loudly in the quiet room. He first pulled out a black long-sleeved shirt, followed by a matching pair of black pants. They were slim and soft-looking. He held them up, looking them over, before glancing at Mob, eyeing his thin frame, comparing the size.   

"These are thermal clothes," Reigen explained, gesturing to them before gently setting them on the edge of the couch. "They'll help keep you warm. Wear them under your regular clothes." 

Mob looked at the fabric for a second, then looked back at Reigen. He didn't say anything right away, so Reigen continued on. "I wasn't sure about the size," he said with a sheepish shrug. "I kind of had to guess, but I'd rather they be slightly too big than too small." 

Mob finally gave a slow nod, and it gave Reigen the confidence to keep going. "Speaking of clothes,” he went on, reaching back into the crumpled bag beside him. "I got you a new hoodie. As well as a new jacket and pair of pants." Mob's old clothes were looking a bit ragged, and Reigen figured he should layer up, especially if they were going to be traveling. 

He pulled out each item one by one and set them aside next to Mob on the couch. The hoodie was dark grey, thick, and soft. The jacket was black, also with a hood, and had deep pockets. The pants seemed thick and sturdy, enough to keep him warm and handle long walks and rough weather. 

Mob watched him the entire time, seemingly awestruck and overwhelmed. As if he hadn't registered that someone would do all this... just for him.

Reigen paused and gave the kid a half-smile. "Again, I wasn’t sure on the whole size thing, so we might have to roll up some cuffs and tighten a drawstring. Just tell me if anything feels weird, okay?" 

Mob didn't answer; his eyes were locked on the pile of clothes next to him. Reigen could tell the boy was a little overwhelmed by it all, but he wasn't done. He cleared his throat and sifted through another bag. "I also got you some gloves, socks, and boots," he said, pulling out a sturdy pair of black boots. "They'll help keep your feet warm. They aren't too heavy or clunky either, so you can still run in them if you need to." 

The man seemed genuinely excited as he laid out each item, happy to give them to the boy. Meanwhile, Mob still sat frozen, seemingly shocked by the kindness. He looked like he had never received a gift before in his life. His hands hovered hesitantly over the items, not daring to touch them. Was this really okay?

"R-Reigen," he finally muttered. "You didn't have to do all this... You didn't have to risk anything for me." 

Reigen shook his head and smiled at him once again. "It's no problem, kid. Don't worry about it." His voice was casual. He wanted to do this. "Ah, I also got you this," he added quickly, reaching into another bag and pulling out a simple manga. "I figured the books I've got lying around here are pretty boring. So, I got you something more interesting to read to pass the time." 

Mob blinked and slowly reached for it. He took the book from Reigen ever so gently, like it was made of glass. His thumb brushed lightly over the cover as he stared down at it. Something caught in his throat as he tried to form words, and he coughed for a second. "Uhm..." he started, but his voice cracked a bit. He cleared his throat, blaming it on the rawness from his sickness. "Thank you." 

Reigen gave him a reassuring nod. "You're welcome, kiddo."

The warm moment between them slowly passed as Mob set the manga aside, handling it as gently as when he first took it in his hands. He let his eyes wander as he adjusted the blanket in his lap. "Where's Dimple?" he asked softly. 

Reigen glanced at him, then let out a quiet chuckle. "You remember that, huh?" 

Mob nodded, though his brows furrowed slightly as he tried to pull the memory back. "A little. It's still kind of hazy... But I think I scared him. I wanted to apologize for..." He trailed off, clearly unsure of how to finish the thought. 

Reigen waved it off as he began cleaning up the bags. "Don't worry, he's fine. Just a bit dramatic. Anyway, he's out doing me a favor. Scouting out for uh... Something. I'm sure he'll be back soon." 

Mob looked down at his hands in his lap. He gave a slow nod, not pressing it any further. "Oh... okay." Though Mob was doing better, his strength was waning again as he got comfortable on the couch. He shifted and winced slightly at the ache in his limbs as he eased himself back and eventually found a comfortable spot. He was still weak and recovering, but Reigen was happy to see the kid up, thinking, responding, and asking questions again. It meant he was getting there, slowly but surely.

------

Later that evening, Reigen sat hunched over his desk, tinkering with an old portable stove he had dragged back from his earlier supply run. He managed to find a tiny toolkit he had in his desk and quickly got to work. The thing was not brand new and looked like it had seen better days, but items like this were hard to come by these days, so Reigen had to take a chance. The metal was scratched, it was missing a knob, and it smelled of burnt... something, but it was intact enough for Reigen to try and work his magic. Even though he wasn't exactly handy... As long as he could get it working enough to boil some water and heat up some food, that's all that mattered. Still, his confidence in fixing the thing was more hope than skill. 

Reigen tightened one last loose screw, ready to test the stove again, when a soft, breathy sigh caught his attention. He glanced up and toward the couch where Mob was lying, the manga Reigen had given him propped open in his hands. The boy had been reading in silence for a while, but now, he seemed upset by something. 

"What's up, kid?" Reigen asked, gently setting his small screwdriver aside. 

Mob didn't say anything at first. Instead, he lifted the book just enough to show Reigen, then pointed to the 'to be continued' text on the last page. 

Reigen blinked, then held back a laugh. "Sorry, Mob. I didn't think to check if it was part of a series. I'll see if I can find the next volume for you when I head out again. Maybe I'll find you some other manga as well." 

"Okay," Mob muttered softly, slowly closing the book before leaning over and gently setting it on the coffee table. Reigen watched him for a moment, a faint smile coming to his face. It was nice. Just for a few moments, Mob got to be a regular kid again, upset over a manga cliffhanger and wondering when he'd get his hands on the next volume. 

A comfortable silence fell between them as Reigen resumed his tinkering. He would glance up occasionally and notice that Mob was now watching him with quiet curiosity. Now that his manga was finished, his new favorite pastime was watching Reigen struggle to fix a portable stove. 

After several minutes, some quiet curses, and a few more adjustments to a random valve, the small stove finally flickered to life with a quiet click and whump . A tiny flame appeared and danced in the center. "Ha!" Reigen breathed, a proud grin making its way to his face. He actually fixed something. He quickly turned off the flame and set his tools aside, deciding he should definitely bring the tiny toolkit with them when they eventually left. Might come in handy again. Now that his mind was on the subject of leaving again, he glanced at Mob once more. Now was probably a good time. 

"Hey, uh, Mob," Reigen started, rising from his desk. "Can I talk to you about something for a sec?" 

Mob looked over at him curiously before replying with a simple "Okay." 

“You remember how I said Dimple was doing me a favor?” he asked, walking over and crouching near the couch so they were closer to eye level. Mob kept his eyes fixed on Reigen as he slowly nodded. “Well… He’s scouting for a good route out of the city. I’ve been thinking… It’s best to move on.” 

“Oh…” Mob’s voice was quiet, and he had an unsure look on his face. His brows knitted together slightly, and he looked almost worried or anxious in a way that sent a pang through Reigen’s chest. Did he think Reigen was going to leave him behind? Reigen didn’t like that look at all and quickly tried to rip the idea from the kid’s head. 

“A-And, I want you to come with me, of course. I think it will be better for us,” he explained more quickly than he intended, watching Mob’s face for any kind of reaction. 

But where Reigen expected relief, Mob’s expression had hardly changed. He still looked worried and uncertain; his hands curled tightly against his blanket. “Oh…” he muttered again, even quieter this time. 

Reigen frowned slightly as his brows drew together. That wasn’t the reaction he was hoping for. “I-Is that okay?” he asked, unsure if he missed something. 

Mob hesitated, his eyes flicking back down to the blanket. "I... I-It's just... I've never left the city before." 

Reigen let out a quiet breath and nodded. "Yeah, I figured. But that's okay. There's a first time for everything, right?" 

Mob didn't answer and didn't even look at Reigen. So, the man continued, keeping his voice gentle as he leaned in to force himself into Mob's view. "Look, staying here... It's not safe. There's nothing left here, Mob. Moving on might lead to something better. It's worth a try."

Mob slowly lifted his gaze; he was still unsure but listening. 

"I'm not saying it'll be easy," Reigen admitted. "But I think it'll be worth it. I wouldn't even consider it if I didn't think we could handle it. I just want to give you something better." 

There was a long pause before Mob gave the faintest nod. "Okay," he finally said, though he still wasn't confident. "If... If you think it's best." 

Reigen offered him a soft, reassuring smile. "Yeah, kid. I do." Satisfied, he rose to his feet and stepped away. Mob watched him go before lowering his gaze again, letting out a soft sigh. 

------

Reigen spent the next couple of days taking care of Mob. Once he finally got the portable stove working, he was able to boil water and make some broth using those cubes Dimple had brought back. The aroma that filled the room was surprisingly rich, coming from a small cube; it even made Reigen's stomach rumble. He paired the broth with some dry crackers from the MRE meals, not wanting to give the kid anything too heavy just yet. It was important not to overload Mob's stomach too soon. 

But seconds after Reigen handed Mob a small bowl of broth, the kid tried to gulp it all down in one go. Reigen had to reach over quickly and steady the bowl with one hand. "Hey, hey, slow down," he said, trying not to sound too worried. "You'll make yourself sick again." 

Mob blinked at him, a little startled and maybe even a bit embarrassed. He gently wiped his mouth on his sleeve and began taking smaller sips after that. Reigen watched him closely for a moment, and even though he was anxious a second ago, a much bigger sense of relief took over. 

Just days ago, Mob had refused food and water altogether. Reigen remembered clearly the sinking feeling he got in his gut and the way his heart twisted in his chest when Mob turned his head away. So, it was good to see the kid eager to fill his belly again. Even if it was just a few crackers and light broth. Reigen had to fight back the lump in his throat as he sat back and let Mob finish the broth on his own. 

Reigen stayed consistent with the medicine, just like Dimple had told him to. He gave Mob a dose first thing in the morning when he woke up, then again in the evening, usually around sunset, when they still had light in the office. Mob’s fever was finally dropping a bit more. He was still warm but no longer burning to the touch. He also still had that cough, sharp, wet, and horrible. Sometimes, it would hit Mob so hard he would double over, trying desperately to catch his breath. The kid was also coughing up the nastiest gunk Reigen had ever seen—thick globs of dark green mucus that had made its home in the kid's body. Reigen started keeping one of his old waste baskets nearby for the poor kid to spit into. While it was disgusting, and Reigen tried not to look too often, it was a good thing. It meant Mob's body was finally fighting back and clearing out all that nasty gunk.

Mob had dozed off not too long ago, curled up tightly on the couch, trying to conserve warmth beneath his thin blanket. His breathing, while still not perfect, had become noticeably easier. It was less strained and more even, each inhale no longer sounding like a struggle. And Reigen took comfort in the rhythmic rise and fall of the kid's chest. It also made him breathe easier. 

Reigen sat on the floor beside the couch, his back pressed against its frame. His head tilted back slightly as he let out a long, tired yawn. The sun had long since set, casting soft shadows and pale blues as early night filtered through the windows. Mob had his meds, he was warm, and he was sleeping. That meant it was time for Reigen to relax and follow the boy's lead. 

Reigen wouldn't say this out loud, and probably never would, but Mob had become his whole world over the past several days. His priority, his responsibility, his reason to keep going. Reigen felt like he had meaning again. Being the person Mob relied on made Reigen feel like he mattered again. Like he was worth something. 

A small, fond smile broke out on Reigen’s face, and without even thinking, his hand shot up and reached out toward Mob in a comforting way. His fingers hovered inches from Mob’s head, ready to gently ruffle his messy hair. 

But… He stopped himself. His hand hovered there awkwardly for a moment, hesitant, before it slowly retreated and fell back into his lap. 

Reigen let out a soft sigh and rubbed his tired eyes. Even simple days were wearing on him. Moments later, a faint green glow began to fill the dim room. Reigen blinked tiredly and glanced up to see Dimple slowly hovering into the office. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming back,” Reigen muttered in a slightly joking tone. 

“Travel takes a while,” Dimple replied with a shrug, floating lazily into the room.  “Even for a spirit like me.” 

“So, did you find anything?” Reigen asked, pushing himself up a bit straighter against the couch. 

There was a beat of silence before Dimple answered. “I did, actually,” he said, hovering closer, his voice low. “When you leave the city, you’ll want to head west. Less debris and rubble, clearer paths, plus, not a lot of Claw jackasses out that way.” 

Reigen slowly nodded. It sounded like a good plan. “Alright, west it is.” 

“That’s not all,” Dimple added, his tone shifting. Reigen quickly gave the spirit his full attention. “Further out of the city, near the edge where the forests meet the base of the mountains, I ran into a few other spirits.” 

Reigen quirked a brow. “Is that… a good thing?” 

“For you, it is,” Dimple told him. “Because of this, I heard a rumor. According to those spirits, there is apparently some kind of compound or community far outside the city. They say it's full of humans.” 

Reigen was surprised by the news but intrigued, leaning forward slightly. “And you… believe them?” 

Dimple simply shrugged. “Look, like I said, it's just a rumor. But… I think it might be worth looking into.” 

Reigen was quiet for a moment, processing the idea. If this place was real, then it would be a chance at something better. It would also be a nice break from hiding and scavenging. Reigen sat back again and finally nodded. “Thank you, Dimple.” 

Dimple didn’t say anything, although it looked like he wanted to say something sarcastic. Instead, he glanced over at Mob. “Kid’s looking better.” 

“Yeah,” Reigen said, following his eyes. “He’s doing better, too. Finally, eating and drinking again. His fever is down to something manageable. Still coughing like hell, though.”

“Still,” Dimple said, his voice becoming serious once again. “I’d give him a few more days of rest before you move on. This travel is going to be brutal for both of you. Might as well be ready for it.” 

Reigen exhaled slowly, letting the words sink in. He knew Dimple was right. Traveling while still this weak would put Mob at serious risk. Which is why he planned to take things slow on this trip, not doing more than they needed each day. 

“I don’t plan on rushing it,” the man said. “But I also don’t want to stay here any longer than we need to. The longer we stay, the more chances we are giving something out there to find us. Monster or human…” 

And surprisingly, Dimple agreed with him. “Yeah,” he said, his voice quiet. “You’ve got a point…”

------

Reigen waited a few more days, just as Dimple suggested. Mob still wasn’t one hundred percent, but he seemed well enough to start a bit of travel. His fever finally broke, and his coughing fits, though still unpleasant, weren’t as frequent. He could keep his food and water down and wasn’t as pale as before. Reigen quickly concluded that Mob just naturally had a paler complexion. 

The boy sat quietly on the couch, dressed in his new clothes, with his bag already packed and resting beside him. Though his expression remained as blank as ever, Reigen could tell he was a bit nervous about leaving. 

The sun had risen not too long ago as morning light poured in through the dusty windows. The air outside was cool and crisp, but Reigen was glad Mob was finally appropriately dressed for the weather. 

Reigen stood at his desk, double-checking his bag one last time to make sure he had everything squared away. He had all of Mob’s meds. He counted the number of bottles of water they had left and ensured that the matches, food packs, and extra socks were all securely tucked away. 

“Yo, Reigen.”

The man glanced up to find Dimple hovering just inches above his head. The spirit’s eyes flicked briefly to Mob, then shifted back to Reigen. “Don’t let the kid use his powers too much, got it?” He spoke in a hushed tone, his voice heavy and firm. “He’s recovering well, but his aura is still a mess. Like, seriously unstable. He’s still too weak to be doing too much, and it could seriously drain him. He could crash, Reigen. Hard.”

Reigen frowned, glancing back over his shoulder at Mob, who still sat silently on the couch, his eyes fixed on the door as if mentally preparing for the trip. Reigen then turned back to Dimple and gave a short nod.  “Alright, got it. No powers.” 

“Make sure he hears it too,” Dimple added, floating back a little. “I can just tell that kid is stubborn. He’ll burn himself out trying to protect you if it comes to that.” 

Reigen sighed through his nose, running a hand through his hair, recalling when he watched the boy struggle in Koyama’s grip. “Yeah… I figured as much.” He paused briefly before looking back at the spirit. “Thanks, Dimple. For watching out for him.” 

Dimple simply huffed and turned away with a grumble. “Tch, don’t make a big deal out of it.” 

Reigen shook his head, then slung his bag over his shoulder. It was now a lot heavier than before, digging into his shoulder. But it was all essential. “Alright, ready to head out, kid?” 

Mob glanced at Reigen and gave a slow nod, cautiously getting to his feet. He was still a bit wobbly but was determined to do things on his own. “I think so.”

Reigen walked over to him. “Alright. If you start to feel dizzy or tired, let me know. We’ll stop. No pushing it, alright?”  

Mob nodded again, his hands gripping the straps of his bag tightly. “Okay…” 

Reigen offered him a small smile, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “We’ll take it slow.” 

Mob glanced up at the man, and though his expression was still blank, Reigen could once again see the faintest hint of trust in his eyes behind the exhaustion and uncertainty. 

“You two are so dramatic,” Dimple muttered, floating ahead of them toward the door. “Let’s get this show on the road.” 

As they made their way to the door, Reigen paused just as he was about to walk out. His hand lingered on the doorknob as he glanced over his shoulder, letting his eyes take one last sweep over the office. Being here was a bit nostalgic, even if he wasn’t exactly happy during his time here all those years ago. It was still a place he had built something in and just reminded him of simpler times. He’d gladly take another boring day in his office, sucking down toxic cigarette smoke and swindling clients, than the way the world is now. But… He would never have had the chance to meet Mob. 

He let out a soft breath, his chest feeling a bit tight. Then, without a word, he finally exited the office, leaving the past behind and looking to something better. 

As they traveled down the stairs and stepped out into the cold, Mob instinctively scanned their surroundings. He was always on alert, keeping an eye out for monsters or Claw. So far, it looked clear. The streets were still and empty, save for the sound of gentle wind and Mob’s boots echoing after Reigen’s as they made their way down the street. However, something caught the boy’s attention, and he suddenly stopped in his tracks. 

He slowly turned his head to the side, glancing at the large window of a storefront. The window had been broken out long ago, leaving jagged shards clinging to the frame. One large piece of glass still remained, big enough for Mob to catch his reflection, which he stared at. Beyond it, familiar displays, now torn, ruined, and dusty, but still visible among the shadows and filth.

Before Mob knew it, he found himself turning and glancing back at the building they had just emerged from. He stood frozen as his eyes slowly wandered up to the sign near the top. It was faded and worn but still legible. ‘ Spirits & Such Consultation’ it read. And Mob felt a strange tug in his chest. 

“Mob!” 

He blinked, startled from his thoughts by Reigen calling out to him from several feet ahead.  The man stood waiting, looking at the boy curiously. “You gotta keep up, kid, don’t wanna lose you already.” 

Mobs slowly turned back toward Reigen, his expression unreadable. “Y-You said you used to work there? That was your office?” 

Reigen glanced up at the building, then back at the kid. “Yup, top floor!” He smiled. “You remember I told you? But I’m sure it was a bit hazy, huh?” 

Mob slowly nodded, his eyes trailing back to the sign. “Y-Yeah…” 

“Well, come on,” Reigen gently encouraged. “We have a lot of ground to cover before it gets dark.” 

Mob looked back toward him, then at the building one last time. His fingers tightened slightly around the straps of his bag as he drew in a deep breath. He then turned away from the office and hurried to catch up to Reigen, his footsteps echoing softly down the empty street. 

Though somewhere far beyond the vacant streets, something stirred, moving behind the silence, as shadows began to reach. Searching. In the dark, a man stood silent. He had heard whispers of sightings of a young boy with great power. One who was rarely seen, like a ghost in the ruined city. A meddling child who caused nothing but trouble. The boy’s name was never spoken; it did not need to be. The order had already passed from the man’s lips, and the dark began to move. It would not lose him again.

Chapter Text

Seasoning City: Two and a half weeks after the portal opened.

His room was pitch-black, like an endless void. Shigeo lay motionless on his back, eyes fixed on the ceiling that he could no longer see. In the darkness, shadows danced at the edge of his vision, twisting into strange shapes and shifting figures. Colors merged and flickered where there were none. The silence wasn’t peaceful. It was loud, humming in his skull and ringing in his ears. 

He couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the blood again. The blood on the floor downstairs. The blood on his mother’s hand. The blood in Ritsu’s room. It played in his mind over and over until it burned into his vision. He couldn’t look at the stain any longer. He couldn’t even look at the twisted and torn body of the monster. It made him feel sick… He had killed something—a living thing. 

It was a beast, a horrendous creature that only brought death and destruction, but still… it was alive. And now, because of him, it wasn’t...

The thought of its body lying in his house haunted him and filled him with unease that crawled against his skin. So, he disposed of it, removing it from the house altogether. After that, he couldn’t even set foot back into his little brother’s room. He couldn’t even go near it or look toward the doorway as he passed by. 

So now, he lay in his own room, suffocating in silence and staring up above him at nothing. His eyes stung as he continued to watch the dark. Watch the dancing shapes play more tricks on his tired mind. He didn’t know what to do now. He didn’t know… 

There was nothing left. Everything was gone—Mom, Dad, Ritsu, the world around him. Where would he go? What would he do? Was there even a point anymore? The ache in his chest was unbearable. The darkness crept closer, and he fell asleep trying to decide. 

------

When Shigeo woke the next morning, he was just as clueless as the night before. His mind was a thick fog, but his body moved anyway, as if it were on autopilot. He slowly and stiffly sat up, with one thought pushing forward in his mind. He couldn’t stay here. There were ghosts in his house. Not the wandering spirits he was used to exorcising with the flick of his wrist. This was more eerie. This house was haunted with memories and blood. 

His feet patted softly against the cold floor as he moved silently and carefully. He walked out of his room with that same thought pressing harder. Leave. He began to turn his head and look toward Ritsu’s door, only to stop himself and bring his gaze to the floor instead. He couldn’t even glance at it. 

First, he shuffled into the downstairs closet, moving almost robotically, like his limbs were still waking up. He eventually found his dad’s old travel backpack, which he had used on business trips. It was bigger and had more pockets. Besides, Shigeo’s school bag was lost a while ago when he was attacked, and everything spiraled into chaos. 

Next, he grabbed what little food he had left, delving into the cabinet where he had stored what he brought back for himself and Ritsu. He found his dad’s old lighter in a kitchen drawer, along with a few extra matches. He ventured back to the closet and managed to find a flashlight and a few extra batteries. Finally, he grabbed some clothes and shoved them into the bag in a hurry, cramming them in any way they’d fit. He just needed to get out… He needed to be anywhere else. 

As Shigeo walked toward the front door, he paused and glanced toward the living room. The dark blue blanket he and Ritsu had placed still remained, covering the stain left on the floor. He stared for several moments before he bit his lip and finally stepped over to it. He carefully bent down and lifted the blanket, not to look, but to keep it—another piece of home. With uneasy movements, he folded it the best he could and tucked it into the bag.

He stood there a moment, his eyes locked onto the dark, crimson stain still soaked into the floorboards. For several long moments, he couldn’t tear himself away. His throat tightened, and he could feel his fingers curl tightly as his sides, his nails pressing into his palms. The sting was almost grounding, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing would be. The stain would always be here, and so would his failure. Eventually, he was able to force himself to look away.

He silently marched back toward the front door before raising a hand and using his powers to carefully tear away and dismantle the barricade he and Ritsu had worked so hard on. Furniture groaned, and things fell with a crash. Shigeo winced slightly at the sound, as he was trying to be careful and quiet. But the silence of the house made everything seem so much louder. 

Once a path was cleared, he stepped outside, crossing the threshold without looking back.

That was… until he stopped suddenly, took a swift turn, and rushed back in a second later. There was something new on his mind as he hurried right back into the living room, heading straight for a small table by the window that housed some frames, photos of him and Ritsu growing up. But out of the few that were there, he only snagged one. His fingers trembled as he reached for it, gently lifting it into his hands. He had almost forgotten. How could he almost forget something so important? 

His eyes scanned over the photo, his family, all four of them, smiling together like they had not too long ago. Even Shigeo had a rare, shy smile tugging at his lips. He stared at it longer than he meant to, taking in every detail. Then, with such care and gentle hands, he slid it from the frame and tucked it safely into an inner pocket of his backpack. 

He set the frame back on the table with a soft clatter, slid his backpack over his shoulders once again, and let out a soft breath. 

Without another glance back, he stepped through the doorway again. This time, for good. 

------

Shigeo wandered aimlessly. No real destination in mind, nowhere to go, his feet just kept moving simply because they had to. His bag was a little heavy and thudded with each step, but everything he had was necessary. He knew the city well, but the more he walked, the more the streets blurred together. Familiar streets now seemed unfamiliar, and old landmarks had become strange.

Stores and businesses sat dark. Windows shattered, and buildings damaged. More abandoned cars lined the road. Trash fluttered by with the breeze, and even some dried blood stained some parts of the concrete, but no bodies remained. There was no sign of people, no bird calls, just the occasional brush of wind and the sound of Shigeo’s shoes scuffing against the sidewalk. The city was dead… 

No matter how far he wandered, the silence followed. The days bled together, slow and agonizing, as if time itself began to deteriorate with the rest of the world. At some point, Shigeo even started mumbling under his breath, talking to himself to fill this lonely void. It helped for a brief time, but once he realized what he was doing, he stopped, and words died in his mouth. It just didn’t feel right. After that, Shigeo went for a long time without hearing the sound of his own voice. 

Throughout those lonely days, Shigeo slowly learned how to keep himself alive and going. He scavenged what he could from the hollow city. Abandoned shops, broken storefronts, wherever he could find that still had remnants of food that hadn't already been taken. Most places were gutted or ruined, but every now and then, he would get lucky. After becoming a scavenger, vending machines quickly became Shigeo's best friends. Many had been smashed open and ransacked, but some still stood intact and untouched. With his powers, Shigeo could easily pry them open, retrieving what little may still be inside. 

There was another source of supplies as well, though it wasn’t always his favorite. If he really needed to, Shigeo would check abandoned cars, bags, and even sometimes empty homes. However, they didn’t always guarantee anything good, and Shigeo felt guilty taking from others, even though they weren’t coming back. I just felt… wrong. It still felt like stealing or trespassing, and it made his stomach twist. 

That wasn’t the only thing he felt guilty about, either. Even in the apocalypse, Shigeo still threw away his trash whenever he came across a can. He would always use a bag whenever he searched a store and would never leave the place any worse than when he found it. He also would not take more than what was absolutely necessary. Just in case someone else happens to come by. Someone who may need it more than him. Though Shigeo never saw any people. It was as if societal norms were still prevalent in his mind, even at the end of the world. 

Shigeo also made a habit of changing locations often. He never stayed in one spot for too long, frequently swapping shelter spots between convenience stores, empty apartment buildings, vacant businesses, and whatever else he could find for the night. Nowhere ever felt truly safe or comforting. Nowhere ever felt like it could be called “home.” Though he remained within the city, the travel was extremely tiring. Every evening, his legs ached and his shoulders sagged from the weight of his bag. Both his body and mind felt completely exhausted. 

One particular night, he had taken up shelter in yet another small, deserted market. However, he couldn't stay long. The stench of rotting seafood hung heavy in the air like a blanket, thick, sour, and suffocating. The smell burned his nose and turned his stomach, threatening to bring back up what little he had eaten that day. He tried his best to deal with it and hold out until morning, curling up tightly in a corner and holding his blanket over his face, but he couldn't take it anymore. 

He didn't want to leave in the middle of the night. The monsters always lingered more in the dark, and he had no idea what could be roaming nearby in the shadows. But he needed to get out. He felt sweaty and nauseous; the decaying walls felt like they were closing in, smothering him in rot. He quickly grabbed his bag and moved out of the building as silently as he could. Shigeo cautiously pushed the door, which hung somewhat awkwardly on its hinges, and peeked out. So far, he saw nothing. Things seemed quiet as well, but he could hear the distant rumble of thunder rolling across the city. A storm was approaching, so he had to find a new spot quickly. 

He slipped out into the street. The air was chilly as dark, ominous clouds swallowed the moon's glow, cloaking the ruined city in near-complete darkness. His steps were light and quick as he kept close to the walls, ducking under broken awnings and sliding into narrow alleyways. The sounds of his footsteps echoed against the walls and felt entirely too loud. He would pause occasionally, holding his breath as his eyes darted in every direction. He was sure he heard something behind him, but there was never anything there when he turned. 

A cold wind swept through the streets, rattling loose signs and creaky doors. The first drops of rain began to fall, soft at first, then steadier. Within moments, it was plummeting hard. Even with the rush of rain, Shigeo swore he could hear distant growls along with the crack and rattle of joints and bones. He quickened his pace, his breath growing shallow and his heart racing.

He just needed to find something. Anything. He wandered for what felt like hours, glancing down side streets and alleyways, his eyes scanning for doors or windows he could easily slip through. 

Eventually, he was able to settle into an old building that was easily accessible after wandering down a narrow path, half covered by overgrown bushes. He wasn’t sure what the building had been used for, maybe an office or storage facility, but it had clearly been abandoned long before everything fell apart. Years maybe. It was incredibly run-down, and nature had already started to reclaim it. Ivy clung to the outer walls, and the inside smelled of rotting wood and mildew. But surprisingly, it was still easier to breathe here than in the old market—no rotting fish smell, already a plus.

Shigeo stepped lightly, careful not to trip or make noise on the uneven floor. He found a corner to settle in and curled up into the tightest ball he could, wrapped up in his blanket with his knees pulled to his chest. The blanket didn’t do much against the cold. It was thin, but he still clung to it anyway, pressing his face into it as the chill seeped through his drenched clothes. 

Thunder continued to rumble in the distance. The sound didn’t scare him; if anything, he preferred it over the constant silence he was used to. Still, Shigeo’s fingers felt numb, and his breath curled in a haze in front of him. Despite all this, however, exhaustion took over, and Shigeo slowly closed his eyes. 

Unfortunately, his sleep was far from peaceful. His mind taunted him with nightmares, dragging him through fragmented images and memories he wished he could forget. Visions of blood, splattering, and staining in deep red pools. His mother's hand covered in crimson blotches, her fingers twitching as if reaching out for him. Distant, distorted voices calling his name, along with the horrible sound of tearing and chewing. Sharp teeth flashed in the dark, and jagged claws scraped against walls and floors, sending an uncomfortable vibration through his bones. Layered over it all was the constant wail of the emergency sirens. It came in waves, low and quiet, then blaringly loud, drilling into his skull. It grew louder and louder, drowning out all other sounds in his world of black and red.

Shigeo jolted awake as a roaring crack of thunder split the sky and practically shook the old building. His chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath. His heart pounded so hard that it began to ache, and Shigeo was convinced it might stop completely. Heavy rain pounded against the roof of the building, and around him, Shigeo could hear quiet drops of water leaking through the cracks in the ceiling. One cold drop landed on his head. He glanced up, just for another to hit him right in the face. 

Shigeo pulled his blanket tighter around him and scooted a few inches to the side until his back met the opposite wall of the corner. He huddled there just beneath a broken window. Wind whistled through the shattered glass, and the occasional spray of rain made its way inside, but Shigeo didn't move again. He stayed there the rest of the night, wide-eyed and curled tightly in his damp blanket. He shivered with every rumble of thunder and flicker of lightning. He didn't sleep again. He only listened to the storm rage on until it faded, leaving him in silence once again.

When morning finally came around, a soft golden light spilled in through the windows, catching on the lingering raindrops that clung to them. The world was quiet, but somewhere deep in the building, he could still hear the steady drip of water. The sound echoed through the area, each drop like the tick of a clock. The air smelled of wet earth, and the scent of mildew was even stronger now. 

Shigeo blinked slowly, his body aching from the cold and the awkward position he had been in all night. He swallowed dryly and parted his lips. His mouth tasted bad, and he needed something to drink. He fumbled for his backpack and quickly unzipped it, pulling out a bottle of water. It only had about a quarter left. He stared at it for a moment before finally downing the last of it in a few gulps. He'll need to find more. Yet again... 

Shigeo left the decrepit building not too long after the sun had risen. The streets were still wet from last night’s storm. He scanned the road and listened for any sound or movement, shuffling footsteps, low growls, anything not human. When it seemed clear, he moved on. 

He eventually stumbled upon another vending machine, surprisingly intact, perched outside an old café. The colorful bottles on display showed the machine's options in the past—green tea, juice, coffee, and of course, water. Just what he needed. 

He took a few steps back and raised a hand, focusing his energy. A soft psychic pulse nudged the vending machine, making it rock slightly. It was a simple trick he had picked up; if anything rattled inside, there was still something left. He held his breath and listened before finally hearing a faint clunk . Something had rolled, but it sounded like only one. 

Shigeo let out a soft sigh and knelt in front of the machine. He stuck his arm inside the door flap and began blindly using his powers to move things around and find where the bottle was. He could just break the machine open, but that was a whole other hassle, headache, and a lot of noise, especially for one measly bottle. Metal creaked quietly as he nudged the bottle into place, pinpointing its location through the faintest shifts and rattles. Then, with a slight flick of his wrist, he tugged it free with his telekinesis and guided it to float gently down. Once it was close, his fingers closed tightly around it. Success! 

He swiftly pulled his hand from the machine and examined his prize, only to be disappointed. Coffee. An old bottle of coffee that was no doubt bad by this point. Shigeo let out a long, tired sigh, but opened the bottle anyway. It wouldn’t hydrate him much, but he might as well take a sip. He went through all that trouble after all. It smelled strange, nothing like the warm, rich aroma he remembered whenever his parents made coffee in the morning at home. 

He eyed the beverage warily before taking a quick sip. His face immediately scrunched up in disgust, and he spat the drink out. It was rancid, tasting sour and metallic with a strange acidic aftertaste. Definitely expired. He coughed a few times, nearly choking on the nasty residue that still lingered on his tongue. He then wiped his mouth on his sleeve and let out another disappointed breath. 

With no trash can nearby, he capped the drink and simply shoved it back in the vending machine’s flap. This drink was not for him. So, the hunt continues. 

He continued silently down the street, his head low, his shoes scuffing softly against the wet pavement. He only made it several steps before he suddenly froze, a sound catching his attention. It was unmistakable. Footsteps and... voices. Slowly getting closer. He quickly looked around, panic flaring in his chest. His eyes darted around the desolate street before landing on an alleyway just to his right. He bolted toward it, nearly tripping as he slipped into the narrow passage. It wasn’t enough, though; he needed something else. That’s when a flash of silver caught his eye. A metal roll-up door to an old shop, slightly ajar, just enough for him to squeeze under. 

Without a second thought, he dropped to the ground and scrambled forward, dragging his bag behind him. His arms and legs scraped against the rough concrete as he squeezed underneath the door. Once he pulled himself inside, he moved out of sight and pressed himself against the wall next to the door, trying to slow his breathing. The room was musty and dark. It appeared to be some kind of stockroom or storage space. 

He listened closely, the footsteps now echoing down the alleyway and growing closer. They were definitely human. Shigeo swallowed nervously before sinking lower, dropping his head to try and get a peek outside. From the narrow space under the door, he could see two pairs of worn boots covered in mud as they slowly came into view.  

Shigeo's heart thudded in his chest, but he didn’t understand why. It was just people. 

But... What if they were dangerous? They could be kind. Maybe. But what if they weren't? And even if they were good people, what would they see when they looked at him? Would they believe anything he said? Would they even care? 

For a long moment, he sat there, crouched in the shadows. Why couldn't he move? Why couldn't he say anything? Maybe it was instinct or fear. Perhaps it was because something deep inside him told him it was safer this way. Not just for him, but for them too. 

So, he stayed hidden and still, quietly observing the strangers for now. 

“I can’t believe they have us out here again. We didn’t find anything in this part of town last time,” one said, a younger-sounding man who seemed slightly frustrated. 

“That just means we’ll have to be more thorough this time,” the other said. He sounded older.

The footsteps seemed to slow, and one of them stopped, maybe to glance around. “Do you think we’ll even find him? I don’t think he could survive out here… especially at his age.” There was a somberness to his tone. 

“I’m not sure,” the older one admitted. “But we’ll just have to keep searching. It’s our job.” 

Shigeo watched in silence as the two men continued on, chatting quietly. His brows furrowed together. Despite the fear taking hold, he also felt a pang of sympathy. They were looking for someone… Whoever they were, he hoped they would find them soon.  Because being alone out here… was scary. 

Shigeo saw the younger man's feet shift, as if turning to look in another direction. He seemed to hesitate before facing his partner again. "As long as they don't have us go near the business district again. That's where these damn things are coming from."

Shigeo's breath nearly caught in his throat. What does that mean? 

Suddenly, his mind began to spin, and his thoughts unraveled quickly. He remembered . The day he felt sick, it was as if something deep inside him just felt wrong. He remembered the news broadcast. A woman’s body was found near that very area. That was the moment everything started to crack and spiral. The tipping point right before the world fell apart. 

"And you know that for a fact?" the older once asked skeptically. 

"Just makes sense," the younger one replied. "That's where it all started, right? I've seen a lot of these things around the city, but I've seen larger groups around that area. They have to be coming from somewhere." 

Shigeo's hands balled up tightly into fists as his stomach turned and a dull ringing filled his ears. Where it all started…

The basement...  

The memory came flooding back, crashing over him like a dark wave. The surge of power when he lost control, the warped anomaly twisting in the dark space. He remembered the pressure in the air and the unnatural humming sound. He remembered how it looked like a scar on the wall—a tear in reality. 

A portal.

He didn't have to be told. He knew. It wasn't a theory or a hunch; it was the truth, sinking into his bones like ice. 

He had opened it.  

The mass of swirling energy. It wasn't some side effect from his powers. It was a gateway. A gateway through which monsters had begun to crawl out of and enter their world. And he let them in. He did this... 

Shigeo sat frozen as their footsteps faded down the alleyway. His whole body trembled, his chest felt tight, and it burned. The weight of what he had just realized, what he had done, pressed down on him. He sat there in silence for several long minutes before he was able to move again. 

He shakily crawled out from under the roll-up door and glanced around the alleyway. It was silent, and the walls felt like they stretched on, casting dark shadows that seemed to lean toward him. He staggered on his feet and hunched over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his uneven breath. His knees shook as he started down at the pavement. He needed to move. He had to go. 

He straightened up, drew in a sharp breath, and took off down the alleyway in the opposite direction the voices had gone. His footsteps echoed off the narrow walls, fast and frantic. He didn’t know where he was going; he just wanted desperately to escape the looming shadows around him. 

Tears started to well up in his eyes, blurring his vision until he could no longer see where he was going. Still, he kept running, from alley to alley, street to street, until… his foot caught on something. He stumbled forward and hit the pavement hard. His legs tangled over whatever he tripped on, something heavy and solid. 

He glanced back at what it was, then his breath hitched. His legs were tangled over a body. A strangled sound escaped him as he quickly scrambled away, palms scraping against the concrete until his back hit the wall of a nearby building. He stared wide-eyed, his heart pounding against his ribs. 

The corpse lay twisted on the pavement. It appeared to be a man; his clothes were shredded and stained with dried blood. Chunks of flesh had been torn away, exposing bone and muscle. He was half-eaten and left to rot. 

Shigeo couldn’t look away; he couldn’t even scream. His chest rose and fell in shallow, ragged gasps; his hands shook violently as the alley seemed to close in tighter, pressing against his lungs. He somehow managed to press a hand over his mouth, choking back the bile that was quickly rising in his throat. 

This was a person. A once living person... He had a name, a voice. He had hopes and ambitions. A job, a life. Maybe he had someone waiting for him. Maybe he had a brother, too. 

Shigeo's breath stuttered, painfully catching in his lungs. He felt like he couldn't get it back for the life of him. 

This wasn't just a body. This was a life. A life ripped away. Just like Mom and Dad. Just like Ritsu. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, but it offered no relief. His mind betrayed him again, playing the same film he often saw when he closed his eyes. Images of blood, claws, and teeth overlayed with the haunting sound of the same low hum from the basement. He did this... and now people were dying. They were being torn apart and devoured. All because of him.

Eventually, somehow, he was able to force himself to move, stumbling to his feet and taking off again. He ran until the body was out of sight, the alley was far behind him, and until his legs gave out beneath him. 

This was all his fault...

------

Shigeo stopped counting the days after a while. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since he left home. Weeks? Months maybe? It didn’t really matter anymore, though. But he knew it had been a while, because the air was warmer now. Tiny blossoms began to bloom on once brittle branches. Spring had come. The sun was gentle and warm, but despite that, a heavy frost refused to thaw in Shigeo’s chest. As spring brought warmth and color back to the world, Shigeo’s heart still felt like the dead of winter. 

He had gotten better at hiding. Not just from monsters, but people too. He didn't see them often, but even now, survivors roamed the city. He would catch a glimpse from time to time, a quick movement, the sound of hurried footsteps, or a voice in the distance. And whenever he sensed someone nearby, he would quickly disappear into the shadows and hide, waiting for them to pass. It was safer that way. 

He couldn't risk being seen, not when he didn't know who he could trust. People were different these days, unpredictable. Fear made them act strange and even dangerous. And after everything... After what had happened... He couldn't be entirely sure that he wasn't dangerous himself. It was better for everyone if he stayed hidden. If no one had to get involved with him, and no one else had to get hurt because of him. Alone was lonely, but it was safer… So, he avoided. 

Well, he tried to avoid them at least. It didn’t always work out. 

Shigeo sat in a ruined corner store. It was the same as almost every other store; the shelves were broken and cleaned out. He sat with his knees tucked close, slowly eating from a crumbled pack of dry ramen. As he poured a few crushed pieces into his palm, a question settled in his mind. What am I doing?  

He stared blankly at the wrecked shelves around him, torn signs advertising snacks, drinks, and other sales. His hand began to shake, and the brittle noodles in his palm jostled about. He had nowhere to go. No one to wait for. No home to return to. 

What was the point of all this?  

He felt a wet drop splash onto his hand, then another. Startled, he glanced down, only to realize they were his own tears. Without a word, he turned his hand and let his measly snack fall to the dusty floor. 

The word around him had stopped, but he was still here, and he didn't know why. He wasn't even sure if he was supposed to be alive. 

He sighed softly and began to wipe his eyes when a sound caught his attention. He perked up a bit and held his breath, listening. It sounded like voices. Carefully, Shigeo shifted toward the window and peeked over the edge, keeping low. Down the street, maybe twenty or thirty yards to his right, stood a small group of people, all clustered at the entrance of an alleyway. It looked like maybe four of them. He couldn't make out what they were saying from this distance, but their movements seemed tense. It appeared to be some kind of argument. Shigeo narrowed his eyes as he watched, hoping they wouldn't come his way. 

One man with dark, messy hair firmly pointed down the opposite end of the street and shook his head with slight frustration. The others seemed almost disappointed, their shoulders slumping a bit. One of them, a younger-looking man with blond hair, stood out. He wore a tattered grey suit jacket, stained and frayed at the seams. It was hard to see from this distance, but to Shigeo, he looked especially upset. 

Shigeo watched closely, tilting his head in mild confusion. Why were they arguing? Why were they so upset? He then turned his gaze down the street, in the direction the dark-haired man had pointed. That's when he saw it, a frail old man slowly shuffling along the sidewalk. He was limping, one pant leg darkened with dried blood. The old man didn't seem to notice the group watching from the alley. 

It was clear this man needed help. But then, Shigeo saw more movement. His eyes flicked upward just in time to catch it, a shape slinking low along a rooftop. A monster. Long-limbed, with its back arched unnaturally as it crept into position. Its glowing yellow eyes locked onto the old man below. 

Shigeo's blood ran cold. His eyes quickly darted back to the group near the alley. Had they seen it too? Were they going to help the man? But to his shock, the group turned away, disappearing into the alleyway one by one. Each of them looked guilty and ashamed. Shigeo stared, frozen. They had just left him... 

The young boy gritted his teeth as he glanced back at the old man. The stranger just kept hobbling forward, unaware of the danger that loomed just above. The creature was nearly vertical now, creeping down the brick wall with ease, its claws gripping and softly clicking against the stone. It was waiting for the right moment to strike. 

This man... he was going to die. 

Shigeo's breath caught in his throat as panic flared through him. He didn't have time to think. His legs moved before he could talk himself out of it, and he bolted. Bursting out of the crumbling corner store, Shigeo sprinted down the street, his worn shoes slapping against the pavement. The man looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps. He seemed startled and even surprised to see a lone boy racing toward him. He stopped suddenly and stood up a bit straighter, appearing confused as his gaze remained fixed on Shigeo. 

He wasn't looking at the monster. He didn't even know it was there. And it was about to strike. 

Shigeo pushed himself harder, willing his weak legs to move faster as the monster shifted, its body coiling, ready to pounce. There wasn't enough time to call out or warn the man. He wouldn't be able to move in time. Then, the beast launched itself. Shigeo reached him in that exact moment, skidding to a halt as a shimmer of blue light flared into existence. 

"Eh? A boy? Where did you—" The old man was suddenly cut off by a loud slamming sound as the beast crashed into Shigeo's barrier. The impact sent a deep reverberation through the air, and the barrier shuddered and rippled under the force. The monster snared in frustration, its claws scratching against Shigeo's protective shield, trying to find a weak point. 

The man stumbled back, his eyes wide with disbelief and horror as the monster continued to claw and pound against the barrier, trying to break through. He nearly tripped as he stepped back, but Shigeo stood firm as he stared into the glowing, empty eyes of the beast. He didn't even flinch.

Shigeo gritted his teeth, his arms trembling from the strain as the creature slammed into his barrier over and over. He couldn't keep it up forever. Each blow threatened to crack not just his shield, but his focus. He had to make a move. He had to protect this man. 

Some part of him, still clinging to who he used to be, believed that if he could just save someone , maybe it would help balance the scale, even just a little. 

It was his fault.

The portal. The monsters. The blood. It all traced back to him, to the swirling anomaly that shouldn’t have existed but did because he had lost control. He couldn’t go back and undo any of it. But he could stand here now. He could keep this man alive.

It was just one monster. He could handle it. 

As the beast lunged again, Shigeo dropped the barrier and released a surge of psychic energy. It blasted forward like a shockwave, slamming into the creature and sending it crashing back. Its claws scraped harshly against the pavement as it struggled to stay upright, tearing deep gashes into the concrete before skidding to a stop. Shigeo had hoped the display would be enough to drive it off, or at least make it think twice before attacking again. But these things have proven to be stubborn, and this one looked like it wasn’t going to back down. He might have to kill it… 

He glanced back at the old man who was trembling in place. His eyes flicked back and forth between Shigeo and the monster. Then, the old man suddenly raised a shaking hand, pointing forward.

“Ah– boy!” 

Shigeo turned his head just in time to see the beast charging again. The young esper took a slow, deep breath, preparing himself. The last one had nearly drained him. It had taken a lot to kill it. And now, he’d have to do it all over again. 

He didn’t hesitate. Shigeo raised his arms, and just as the beast was about to reach him, it froze. The familiar hue of his psychic energy surrounded the beast as it squirmed in his grip, limbs jerking as it fought to break free. Shigeo narrowed his eyes. This time, knew what to do. Go for the head. 

The beast continued to thrash violently, screeching and howling as it fought against the invisible force that kept it still. Shigeo kept his focus on a single point, just behind its eyes. He clenched his teeth, his fingers shaking slightly as he slowly curled them into a fist. Then a sickening wet snap echoed down the street as the creature's head was forcefully torn from its body. His psychic energy dissipated, and the corpse dropped to the pavement with a thud. 

Shigeo hunched forward, panting softly. It was such a small motion, but it felt like trying to lift a boulder with a single finger. He'd have to figure out an easier way to do this at some point. Either that or just practice... As of right now, the act was draining.

He gently wiped the sweat from his forehead with the edge of his dirty sleeve and glanced back. The old man stood there frozen, his eyes wide as he gazed at the young boy. 

Shigeo straightened up and was about to speak when the old man finally found his voice. “Y-You saved me, boy.” 

Shigeo’s throat tightened, and he swallowed hard, saying nothing in response. The word saved felt heavy in his mind. He didn’t want thanks or praise. He didn’t deserve either. This man was just one life, out of the countless others he had failed. The ones he couldn’t save…

Shigeo’s eyes dropped to the man’s bloody pant leg, changing the subject instead. “You’re hurt…” 

The man glanced at his leg, then back at Shigeo, giving a weak chuckle. “A demon got me good…” 

Demon… It suited them. 

Shigeo looked around, scanning for anything else that might be lurking nearby. When it seemed clear, he gestured to the old man. “Follow me.” He then began walking without looking back, and the old man silently agreed, following closely behind his savior. 

It took a bit of walking, but Shigeo knew where he was going and had an exact destination in mind—the hospital. He had passed the building a couple of times during his aimless wandering. Each time, he heard the faint sound of voices, movement behind the broken windows, and even the flicker of lantern lights. People were still there, trying to survive. Maybe even helping others. 

When they finally reached the gates, Shigeo stopped. He pointed ahead, his voice quiet and emotionless. "There are people still inside. They'll help you." 

The man looked toward the building, then glanced back at Shigeo to say something, but the boy had already turned to walk away. He wanted to leave before the man tried to thank him again. He didn't want it. He just wanted to disappear once more and stay hidden.

"Wait, boy!" the man called after him. Too late ... Shigeo slowed, but didn't turn around. "You can't be out here on your own. It's not safe. You should stay here too." 

Shigeo hesitated, then slowly turned and shook his head. "I can't..." he mumbled. "I just can't." His voice wavered as he took a couple more steps away. 

The old man seemed to study him for a moment before speaking up again. "Can I at least get your name?" he asked gently. 

Shigeo opened his mouth, but then stopped himself. After a long moment, it finally came. "I... It's Mob," he muttered, his eyes lowering to the cracked pavement. It was his nickname in school, something his classmates always called him. Someone forgettable. A faceless, nameless, nobody. And that's what he wanted to be now. Nothing important. 

The man furrowed his brow, confused. He could tell that wasn't his real name. "Mob?" he echoed.

The boy gave a slow nod. "Just... Mob." 

The man didn't push, but he could see something crumbling inside the boy. "It's nice to meet you, Mob. You can call me Mr. Hayashi. Thank you... for everything." 

Mob gave a quiet, polite bow, not trusting his voice to say more. Then, he finally turned and walked away without looking back. Mr. Hayashi stood at the gate and watched him disappear into the dusk. A boy with no name, no home, and the weight of too much pressing down on his small shoulders.

------

The rain came again. At first, it was a light, cool drizzle, but it didn't stay that way. The sky darkened quickly, and he was caught in a downpour within minutes. Mob hurried through the streets in search of shelter, already completely soaked through. His thin hoodie clung to his skin, heavy and cold. Water streamed down his face, dripping from his hair and nose. His waterlogged shoes squelched with each step, becoming increasingly uncomfortable. 

He managed to duck under the awning of an old flower shop. The door was slightly open, so one good shove with his shoulder did the rest, and he stumbled inside, finally out of the rain. The scent inside was strange, like soil and mold. Dead plants hung limply in cracked pots, leaves and petals crumbled to dust. He let out a few heavy breaths as he plopped down on the floor and quickly pulled off his soaked hoodie, tossing it aside. The cool air made him shiver as it touched his skin. Next were his shoes. 

Walking had gotten more painful lately, as he quickly developed blisters on his feet. He winced in pain as he pulled his wet shoes off. He knew they had reopened again. The sting was awful. It felt like he had been walking on needles. After removing his soaked shoes and socks, he lay flat on his back on the cold tile floor, just trying to catch his breath. 

Mob didn't know why, but he just kept moving forward, questioning it more every day. He felt there wasn't a reason. He didn't want to die. Not really. But sometimes... It felt like he didn't want to be alive either. He felt strange. Caught somewhere in between. He wondered if that's how spirits felt when they couldn't pass on—stuck here, tethered to nothing when they didn't want to be. That’s what he felt like now, a ghost that still had a heartbeat. He kept walking because it was all he knew how to do anymore. Part of him wanted to just stop, lie down, and never get up again, but something deep inside him still refused. Though he still wasn't sure what it was... 

Later that evening, the rain lightened into a cold mist. Mob peeked out the shop window, coming to the conclusion that this old flower shop was probably where he would be staying tonight. His breath fogged up the dusty glass as his eyes scanned the street for danger, a habit at this point. He watched as a fog began to curl through the gloomy street. As he was about to turn away, movement down the road caught his eye. Near a collapsed store, a small family lingered. Two adults and a small child. However, they weren't alone over there.

Mob narrowed his eyes at two other figures that had approached the family. Two men who wore dirty jackets and seemed to have similar scar-like markings on their faces. Something twisted in Mob's gut. Even from far away, the energy these two figures gave off was sickening. 

He couldn't hear what was being said, but the intent was clear. The father seemed to be pleading, his hands raised in desperation, while the two men only smirked at the display. Then, without hesitation, they tore the family’s bags from them—all their supplies, everything that they had. Mob's jaw clenched. He couldn't believe it. These weren’t just scavengers; they were espers. He could feel it. They were using that power to steal, dominate, bring fear, and hurt people who had nothing left. 

Mob looked down at his blistered feet and shaking dirt-smeared hands before drawing in a deep breath, his mind quiet and oddly clear. He glanced up again and noticed the men walking away, leaving the poor family behind with nothing. He couldn't change the world; he couldn't undo what he had done. He couldn't bring his family back. Saving one person was nothing compared to everything else. He could do more... He could do this. 

He quickly snagged his shoes and hoodie before slipping out of the store and into the shadows, circling behind the mysterious scarred men. 

He would get those supplies back.

Chapter Text

The heavy coat of dirt and dust in the air nearly made Reigen choke and cough just as badly as Mob had been the past several days. His boots crunched over glass as he sifted through the debris, his eyes sweeping over the remnants of what had once been a small home furnishing shop. They stumbled across the ruined place within their first hour of travel, and Reigen decided to make a quick pitstop. While he was successful in finding new clothes for the boy, he also had something else in mind that would be helpful on this trip. 

Dimple had gone off to scout ahead; his job was to make sure the way stayed clear. If anything seemed off, he would report back. The plan was to always have him go ahead, then they’d meet back up toward the end of the day. 

Reigen held his breath as he shoved aside a few random boxes, releasing more stale dust into the air. The front wall of the store was nearly collapsed, allowing plenty of dirt and debris to be carried in by the wind and cover the place. Reigen told Mob to either wait outside or at the front. The kid’s lungs were already compromised, and Reigen didn’t want him getting worse. Mob opted to stay closer to the doorway, keeping his eyes on both the street and occasionally Reigen. His gaze shifted between the two, just in case something was hiding in there. The man would catch his glances from time to time, and Reigen quickly realized that Mob always seemed to be on high alert.

After looking through overturned furniture and busted picture frames, Reigen finally found what he was hunting for—a thick blanket. He tugged it free from the pile and gave it a rough shake to get some of the dust off, covering his mouth with his sleeve as he did so. Despite the dust, the fabric was clean enough, untouched and theirs for the taking, still sporting a price tag and all. Not only that, but another lay folded just beneath it. Score! They’d need these for those dreadful cold winter nights. 

He slung his backpack off his shoulders and stuffed the blankets inside. He might need a bigger bag if they ever come across one. As he turned to leave, something else caught his eye. A dirty ‘On Sale’ sign clung to some nearly collapsed bookshelves. The shelves that still hung on housed warped and water-damaged novels. But, tucked among some of them, to Reigen’s surprise, was a few manga. Perfect. He quickly snagged what was there, which was only about four books, and made his way back toward Mob. 

The boy was facing away, his eyes scanning the street. “Stay still, Mob,” Reigen said as he approached the kid, unzipping Mob’s backpack and gently stuffing the manga inside. 

“Please be careful,” Mob muttered, still keeping his eyes elsewhere. “I have something important in there… I don’t want it creased or bent.” 

Reigen’s hands slowed. He knew exactly what the kid was talking about. It was the photo Reigen had seen, well, found while snooping through Mob’s things. He wasn’t about to admit that, though. So, he acted like he had no idea what the kid was talking about. 

“Important how?” he asked casually, wondering if the kid might bring up the prized possession on his own. “What is it?” 

Mob hesitated a moment, shifting slightly as Reigen zipped his bag back up. “It’s… It’s a photo. A photo of my family.” 

Reigen studied the boy for a moment, half tempted to ask more, just to see if Mob might open up a little to him. But as Mob turned to face him, he kept his eyes low, barely looking at Reigen as he nervously fiddled with a string on his hoodie. Reigen wasn’t going to pressure him into saying more if he wasn’t ready to. He was sure the kid would bring more info with time. 

“I see,” Reigen said quietly. “Don’t worry, kid. I was careful.” He gently placed a hand on Mob’s shoulder for a brief moment before stepping back outside, encouraging the boy to follow. Mob let out a soft breath as he fell into step with Reigen. 

They continued down the vacant street in silence, not really saying much to each other. It wasn’t that things were awkward; they both were just dedicated to watching and listening for the slightest movement or sound. Mob also still seemed a bit tired. His pace was slow, and he breathed somewhat heavily. So, Reigen didn’t want to drag the kid into an unwanted conversation. 

The sky was heavy and grey with the sun barely peeking through the thick clouds. The air had a crisp chill that Reigen knew would only grow colder as the days went on. Winter was here, and he was worried it would be ruthless. The nights would grow colder, the winds would be harsher, and if they couldn’t find proper shelter, things could get bad. 

Reigen guided himself and Mob through narrow alleyways, skipping a few extra streets in favor of tighter, shadier paths to stay hidden. While Mob didn’t seem too eager to leave at first, he still followed the man diligently, though in silence. When Reigen first brought up leaving, he took note of Mob’s slight hesitation on the subject. But here he was, following anyway. Reigen couldn’t tell if it was because Mob had nowhere else to go, or if he really believed Reigen knew what he was doing. Maybe both. Though the man couldn’t deny the slightest hint of trust he saw in the kid’s eyes the other day. Maybe that’s why Mob followed him so willingly. He was starting to rely on him, and Reigen didn’t want to let the kid down. 

As they neared the end of another alleyway, a flicker of movement caught Reigen’s attention. He instantly stopped dead in his tracks and swiftly threw an arm out across Mob’s path. The boy stopped just short of running into him and glanced at him curiously. 

Reigen kept his eyes locked on the street for a second more before taking a couple of steps back and shifting closer to the wall, his free hand brushing the cold brick. The other arm stayed firm across Mob’s chest, guiding the boy back along the wall with him. Mob obeyed without a word, though he still looked at Reigen somewhat confused. 

Reigen stole a quick glance at Mob, then edged forward to peek cautiously around the corner again. After a couple of seconds, his eyes flicked back to the boy. “There’s a hellhound out on the street,” he informed him, keeping his voice low.

Mob tilted his head before leaning forward slightly to see if he could sneak a peek. The faint swish of a skeletal tail caught in his line of sight, but it looked to be only one. “It’s just one,” Mob whispered, slight determination present in his words. “I can handle it.” 

Reigen immediately interjected before the boy could even think about stepping forward. Not happening. “No way, kid.” He made sure his tone left no room for argument. “Dimple said you need to take it easy with the psychic powers, remember? We’ll just wait for it to pass.” 

Mob’s brows pinched together, and the air around them seemed to shift, charged with a faint, static pressure that prickled against Reigen’s skin. “But… It’s only one,” the boy argued. “I can handle just one.” There was a slight edge to his tone. It wasn’t defiance exactly. It was a need to prove he wasn’t useless, that he could still protect, even when his body betrayed him. 

Reigen felt a weight in his chest, but his gaze didn’t waver, and he firmly shook his head. “I said no, Mob. It’s too risky. Let's just stay hidden. It’ll move on in a few minutes.”

Mob’s usual calm and blank face seemed to show the tiniest hints of frustration. He tucked it away quickly, but Reigen still caught it. The boy’s fingers curled into loose fists at his sides, another subtle but telling sign. Mob let out a quiet sigh and sank back against the cold brick wall. His shoulders hunched forward slightly, and his eyes dropped to the cracked pavement beneath his boots.

Reigen just watched him carefully. Dimple was clear on the whole powers thing, and unfortunately, Mob wasn’t taking it well. The kid could be frustrated all he wanted, but Reigen wasn’t going to let him drain himself. Still, Reigen would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a little bad for the kid.  

Just like Reigen had predicted, the monster didn’t even notice the two and eventually moved on, its heavy footsteps fading away. They had to wait several minutes for it to leave, which cut into their travel time, but it didn’t matter. They were both safe. 

“Looks like it’s clear now. Come on,” Reigen said, stepping cautiously out into the empty street. The two continued on their way, once again walking in silence. 

Reigen’s mind wandered as he glanced at Mob out of the corner of his eye. Was the kid still annoyed that Reigen didn’t let him fight? Maybe he wasn’t annoyed at all. Mob had a way of burying his feelings beneath the surface, shutting him out so easily that sometimes Reigen wondered if the boy even noticed he was doing it. He sighed inwardly, wishing he could read the kid better. Instead, he was left fumbling, piecing together quiet looks and half-formed expressions like some kind of Mob puzzle. But maybe that would come with time. Maybe if he was patient, the boy would let him in. 

After a bit more walking, Reigen spotted another potential pitstop. He noticed an old, faded, and barely legible sign hanging off the side of a building, but he knew exactly what it was. “This way, Mob,” he said quickly, picking up his pace as he cut toward the building, and the boy reluctantly followed. 

As Mob trailed behind, his eyes examined the outside of the building, but it seemed to be nothing special. Just another weathered storefront with a sign barely hanging on. Just like every other building. He wasn’t sure what kind of place this had been… until the door creaked open and they stepped inside. 

The air was cool and smelled of rust and dust. A dim beam of daylight poured through a hole in the roof, catching on shapes along the walls. Familiar shapes. Bows for archery and a few katanas hung mounted on the walls, handles wrapped in frayed cloth. They might have been real, or they might have been decorative; it was hard to tell under the film of grime. It was a weapons shop, or at least, it had been once. The glass display counter had been smashed a long time ago, where smaller weapons like knives and hatchets may have been held, but it had been long since picked clean. It seemed everyone had the same idea when the monsters came. Arm yourself and fight back. 

Mob glanced around and shuffled nervously. He didn’t understand what they were doing here. Reigen already had a weapon. Two, in fact. Maybe he was looking for more ammo for his gun. Or maybe there was something else Mob wasn’t seeing.

The boy silently observed Reigen as he wandered around the wrecked shop, his expression unreadable in the dim light. Reigen reached up and pulled a display bow from its wall mount. He turned it in his hands, tested the string with a soft pull, then frowned and set it aside with a dull clunk against the wooden counter. It seemed like he wasn’t too happy with it, and started another search. Mob, however, stayed rooted in his spot at the entrance, still confused. 

Reigen continued to stumble around and pick through the shop, clearly on the hunt for something. He pushed aside a toppled rack, and the sound of wood planks falling echoed through the quiet shop as he finally stumbled across another bow. This one was shorter than the one he had picked up before. He turned it over in his hands, testing the weight, and pulled the string back a couple of times. Then, a satisfied smile tugged at his lips.  

Without a word, he moved on, gathering any arrows he could find for the bow that worked with its size. It was much smaller than a traditional longbow, but still looked sturdy and reliable. Once Reigen had what he needed, he approached Mob again, holding the weapon like he had just uncovered a prize.

“Alright, here we go,” Reigen said as he immediately thrust the weapon out toward Mob. “Take it.” 

Mob stared at it, unmoving. The wood was dark in color and slightly scuffed, but still well intact. Still, he made no effort to reach for it. Instead, his gaze shifted back to Reigen.

If Reigen noticed Mob’s hesitation, he didn’t show it. “We can attach this to your bag,” the man continued, holding some kind of worn, brown leather pouch that stored the arrows he collected. They rattled softly inside as he tilted it. “I know you’re already carrying a lot, but this stuff is pretty lightweight.” 

Mob took a small step back, his eyes falling on the bow again. “R-Reigen, I don’t want a weapon…” 

Reigen had a feeling the kid might fight him on this, but he wasn’t giving up. This was all for a reason. Another way of keeping the boy safe. “Mob, just take it, alright?” he gently requested, pushing the weapon closer, bridging the space between them. “I’m not saying you have to use it. It’s more of a… just in case thing, okay?”  

Mob still seemed unsure, his hands hovering there awkwardly as if he couldn’t decide whether to give in and take the bow or push it away. His expression was caught somewhere between discomfort and guilt, like holding the weapon might change something about him.

Reigen exhaled softly. “Mob, listen to me. You might never have to use it, but I’d feel a hell of a lot better if you had it just in case you do need to use it. Dimple said you need to take it easy with the powers. You can’t rely on them all the time.”

Mob glanced at Reigen. His eyes were half-covered by his messy hair, but his face was serious. “A bow and arrow isn’t going to kill a monster.” 

“It might not,” Reigen admitted. “But it could buy you a few seconds when you need them most. And sometimes…” he paused a second, willing his voice to stay firm. “Sometimes weapons aren’t just for the monsters…” 

Mob’s gaze sharpened. “I don’t want to kill anyone.” 

“Hopefully you won’t have to,” Reigen said. He didn’t like saying it, but he had to be realistic. The thought of Mob being cornered with nothing. No powers, no weapon, it made him sick to his stomach. He had seen too many people die that way.  “Sometimes, a weapon is enough to scare someone dangerous away. It’s just in case…” 

Reigen held the bow out to the boy again. Mob eyed it for several more seconds. He didn’t want to carry something that could hurt people. Not when he’d already done enough damage without trying. Still, he finally reached for it, and his hesitant fingers slowly closed around it. 

“I don’t even know how to use it,” the boy mumbled as he examined the weapon in his hands. 

“Don’t worry, kid, I’ll teach you.” Reigen’s tone was reassuring as he waved a hand. 

Mob eyed him doubtfully. “Have you ever used one?” 

Reigen stammered a bit. “Uh, well, no… But I’ve used my gun before. I’m sure it's somewhat similar. You know, just aim and fire.” He plastered on a wobbly smile. 

 Mob still didn’t look too convinced. 

“Well,” Reigen said, clapping his hands once. “Let's give it a shot, then!”  

The shop was small and cramped, not a great place to practice, so they headed outside. The streets were quiet as Reigen’s eyes swept over every doorway and alley before deciding it was safe enough. Out on the sidewalk, he began scrounging together a makeshift shooting range from whatever junk was lying around. He found a few soggy cardboard boxes and propped them up against a wall. He considered grabbing smaller objects, like empty cartons or plastic bottles, but decided Mob should start with larger targets first. 

“Bigger is better for your first try,” he said, lining up the boxes carefully. “We’ll work up to smaller, more tricky targets once you can hit something that doesn’t move.” 

Mob lingered several steps back, the bow hanging awkwardly in his grip. The weapon felt strange, like he was holding something that didn’t belong in his hands. He stared silently as he watched Reigen fuss over the targets. He still didn’t want to take part in any of this, but Reigen seemed so determined. So he stayed quiet, swallowing his discomfort, because it was easier to go along than to let Reigen down.

“Alright, Mob,” Reigen called enthusiastically as he lightly jogged back over. He then guided the boy a few more paces farther from the makeshift targets. “Let's see what you’ve got.” 

Mob looked a bit nervous, being thrown into it without really knowing what to do. He fumbled awkwardly with the bow a bit and pulled out an arrow. He stared at both in his hands as he tried to figure out how to go about this, before glancing at Reigen, looking completely lost. 

Reigen’s smile didn’t falter as he stepped forward to help the kid. While he didn’t know too much about this type of weapon, he knew enough to get the boy started. “Here, like this.” He adjusted Mob’s grip, showing him how to nock the arrow and settle it against the string. “Then, you pull back,” Reigen added, making the motion with his own arms. 

Mob nodded along before trying it himself. Mob was still a bit skinny and frail, so he had a hard time pulling the bowstring at first, not expecting it to require so much strength. It took him a couple of tries, but he got a decent pullback. 

“Alright, kid, now try to aim as best you can, then let it rip,” Reigen encouraged. He wanted this to be a good experience, especially since Mob was so iffy on the weapon to begin with. If Mob was going to accept the bow at all, this first try needed to feel like a win. He just wanted to give the kid some confidence. He knew Mob could really use it. 

Mob’s brow furrowed in concentration. He still wasn’t entirely too sure how to aim, but did his best, lining his eye along the shaft of the arrow. When he felt ready, he finally let it go. Where they both expected the arrow to fly, it did not. Instead, it simply sprang forward, bounced once, and clattered pathetically to the pavement a few feet away.

Mob looked a bit sheepish, his eyes locked onto the arrow just feet ahead of him. Reigen awkwardly cleared his throat, quickly jumping in to reassure the kid. He masked a wince with an encouraging smile. “Not a bad first try. Just… try pulling back a little harder this time.” 

Mob bit his lip, but once again followed directions. He pulled another arrow out of the quiver and set it in place before drawing back on the string again, this time with a bit more effort. The arrow zipped forward, landing just shy of the target. Reigen kept encouraging Mob, and the boy kept trying. After several more shots, some closer than others, he finally hit his mark. The arrow stuck in the bottom corner of a box with a dull thump. It wobbled slightly, but it was in. 

Reigen’s face instantly lit up. “Good job!” he praised, maybe a bit too enthusiastically, when Mob wasn’t really doing all that great. But he didn’t care. The kid needed encouragement more than accuracy right now.

It seemed to work a little bit, though, as Mob’s mouth twitched into the faintest smile. It was extremely easy to miss, hardly even there at all. But before Reigen could say anything, Mob ducked his head as if to hide it, and the expression was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “My fingers are starting to hurt,” Mob muttered, lowering his gaze at the fallen arrows scattered about. 

“It’s okay, kid. We’ll call it for now,” Reigen smiled, keeping his tone light. “We can get more practice in later. Right now, we should get moving again.” 

Reigen helped Mob gather all the fallen arrows, and they slid them back into the leather quiver. Reigen then showed Mob how to secure both the bow and the pouch so they wouldn’t slip while walking, giving the straps a firm tug for good measure. After that, they finally set off again, heading down the silent streets.

------

They walked for a short while, Mob trailing a few steps behind Reigen. He barely registered the turns they were taking until Reigen veered them down a side street, and he suddenly felt… uneasy. Mob began to slow without realizing it; he knew this street. 

“We’re… going this way?” He asked softly, his voice was barely audible, but Reigen still managed to catch it. 

“Yeah,” Reigen replied, glancing over his shoulder. “We’re gonna cut through the neighborhood up ahead. We already lost a bit of time with all our detours.” 

“Alright.” Mob slowly nodded, but the motion was stiff. His gaze fell to his shoes as they gently tapped against the pavement. 

Mob swallowed nervously as the neighborhood came into view, and a shiver ran down his spine. He saw broken gates, sagging rooftops, and shattered windows. With every step, his chest grew tighter. His breaths came shallow, unsteady, and he could feel the faint prickling of sweat gathering at his palms despite the cool air.

When they finally crossed the street into the neighborhood, the air felt different, and Mob’s stomach churned. The houses all blended together in a nauseating blur. He felt an odd tingling in his fingers, his heart stuttered in his chest, and he even felt a weird buzzing in his teeth, like when he heard nails on a chalkboard. The feeling grew more and more unbearable as they continued through the desolate streets.

Then, he stopped. 

Mob clenched his hands into fists, trying to get the strange prickling feeling in his blood to stop. Then, he slowly, almost reluctantly, turned his head and lifted his gaze up at the house before him. The exterior was damaged and streaked with grime. Some windows were broken, and vines began to scale the walls, half-burying the front in a dense forest of darkening leaves and shadows. The front gate sagged on rusted hinges, creaking softly as the wind brushed against it. The air around the place seemed colder somehow, and Mob couldn’t look away.

It took Reigen several seconds to realize his traveling companion was no longer following behind him. He panicked for half a second before doing a swift turn and spotting the boy, his eyes fixed on the house, vacant and unblinking, as though the sight had consumed him entirely. 

“Mob, why’d you stop?” Reigen asked, pinching his brows together. He stepped closer, glancing at the dilapidated house before returning his gaze to the boy. “Come on, Mob. Let’s keep moving.” 

But Mob didn’t budge; he didn’t even blink or twitch as his eyes remained on the crumbling structure. Reigen’s gaze flicked between the boy and the house, his unease growing the longer the silence stretched on. A slow realization began to form in Reigen’s mind, and it sank in quickly. The boy’s stillness, the intensity of his stare. Mob wasn’t just caught up in the sight, but a memory as well.  

“Mob…” Reigen said carefully. “Is this… your house?” 

Mob didn’t answer; instead, he took a few slow steps forward, heading for the gate. Reigen was about to call the kid again, but figured he’d be wasting his breath. So, he quietly followed the boy as Mob gently pushed open the broken gate. The rusted metal screeched unpleasantly and echoed through the empty street. Without a sound, he stepped through, moving toward the front door of the house that had haunted his memories for so long. 

The door hung open just a little, still somewhat blocked by the furniture he had shoved aside all those years ago. Back then, he could slip through the narrow gap easily, but he was older and bigger now. Mob pushed his shoulder against the door to widen the space. Furniture screeched and toppled, but he was able to slip inside. 

He immediately breathed in a lungful of dust that hung thickly in the air. His already weak lungs seized and threw him into a painful cough that bent him forward. Just behind him, the door creaked as Reigen pushed it open a little further. While Mob could fit through the gap, Reigen could not. 

He stepped in cautiously, his eyes scanning the dark area before landing on Mob again. The kid straightened up quickly, as if trying to hide his struggle, his gaze already drifting away to take in the room. 

“Mob, we should keep moving,” Reigen gently urged, but the boy still did not acknowledge him. Instead, he continued forward, his eyes slowly scanning everything. 

Reigen sighed softly. Whatever this was, he figured Mob needed it. Whether it was closure, a final goodbye, or something far more complicated, Reigen decided not to pull him away. For now, he’d just let him go. Not like the kid wanted to listen right now anyway. 

As Mob wandered further, he realized the air faintly smelled of mold, but beneath it, memories poured into his senses. Maybe he was imagining it, but there was a trace of something warmer. Miso soup, fresh laundry, his mother’s perfume. 

His gaze drifted to the living room, where the sofa used to sit. For a moment, he could still see it all so clearly. A faint memory flickered in his mind, like the glow of a candle in the dark. Ritsu bent over his homework as he sat in front of the coffee table. His mother crouched beside him, checking over it. His father reading the newspaper on the couch. For a moment, it felt so vivid, but when he blinked, all that remained were shadows and decay. 

Mob felt his pulse spike as he stepped toward the stairs. He reached out and gently pressed his fingers against the railing. The strange, electric buzzing crept back into his teeth, sharper than before, now drilling into his skull. 

As Mob drifted deeper into the house, Reigen eased further inside. His eyes looked over the barricade by the door. He then glanced around the rest of the area and saw old, sun-bleached blankets tacked up on the windows, some ripped wide open, as if torn by wind or something worse. Frayed edges and shredded pieces dangled loosely. He wondered how long Mob had stayed in his home before finally leaving. 

Paint was peeling from the walls, and overturned furniture was scattered about. As he stepped into the living room, his boots scuffed against something, and when he looked down, his breath caught in his throat. A large, dark stain spread across the warped wood beneath him, its color sunk in deep. It was clearly old, but unmistakable.

He swallowed hard and took two quick steps back. “Hey, Mob,” he started, ready to get the kid out of there. He turned to where the boy had been, but he was gone. He must have drifted to a different part of the house. Somewhere in the quiet home, the floor creaked faintly, and Reigen couldn’t decide whether he should go after the boy.

Mob, meanwhile, had wandered upstairs. The floor creaked softly beneath his feet with each slow step. He could hear each shaky inhale of his breath as he crept down the hall. It felt like it stretched on before him, every shadow seeming to shift at the edge of his vision. 

He stopped in front of his bedroom. The door still hung wide open, just as he had left it. His fingers curled around the doorframe as he stepped closer. The air felt stale, with dust coating his desk, shelves, and futon. He wanted to step further in, cross the threshold, but his body refused to move forward. Instead, he stepped back into the hall, his eyes catching on another door. Ritsu’s door.

Mob’s throat burned, and it felt like the hallway was closing in around him. Four years it’s been. Four years since he’s even looked at that door. Yet now, he found himself slowly moving toward it. His hand clamped around the cold handle, and he stared for several long seconds before finally opening it with a soft click. 

The door creaked as it slowly swung open, and everything was still in place. Ritsu’s books were always lined up neatly, his desk was always organized, and his bed was always made. However, now dust and grime coated every surface. Dark water stains spread across parts of the wall, and patches of mold bloomed faintly where the weather had seeped in through the jagged gap of a broken window. The air was musty and heavy with the scent of damp wood. 

Still, Mob stepped inside for the first time in years. His eyes ignored the dust and the blotches on the wall. They were drawn to one thing and one thing only. The dark rust-colored stain on the floor. He carefully dropped to his knees as his hand hovered for a moment before settling onto the mark, letting his fingertips brush against the surface. When he pulled his hand back, he glanced at the tips as if the stain would be on his fingers, but it had long since dried. 

He wondered how Ritsu felt when the monster broke in. How panic and fear must have consumed him. He tried to imagine what might have gone through his brother’s mind. He wondered if Ritsu called out for his big brother… Mob sucked in a sharp breath; his throat still felt so raw and sore. All he wanted to do was protect Ritsu, keep him safe. But he had failed, and proof of that failure was etched into the floorboards.

Then, the floor creaked just behind him. Mob froze suddenly, his breath hitching painfully. It was probably Reigen, he told himself. But then, another sound came… The sound of a short, wet snuffle, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. 

He spun around quickly and froze for a split second as the creature lunged straight at him. His mind felt like it was lagging behind, but instinct took over, and he managed to move out of the way just in time, the monster’s claws scraping against the floor where he had just sat. He scrambled to his feet, adrenaline surging violently, but the beast was already changing direction and rushing him again.

He couldn’t even take a full step before the beast barreled into him with terrifying speed, knocking him off balance and sending him crashing to the floor. Its shadow loomed over him, and its breath was hot and disgusting. It was as big as a tiger, and hissed like one, too. Its jagged ribs pierced through its torn flesh like haunting skeletal spikes. Its teeth were long and sharp like knives, poised to tear him apart. 

Mob gritted his teeth as he tried to pull forward what little strength he had left to attack or at least push the thing back. His chest ached as each ragged breath burned in his lungs. The psychic energy within him was sluggish, hardly obeying him. As it opened its jaws, Mob finally managed to force it out. A rough burst of energy rippled from him, raw and unsteady. It was far from his usual strength and skill, but it was enough to knock the beast back, slamming it against the wall toward the window. Mob gasped and sat up, his heart hammering in his chest as panic set in. 

Downstairs, Reigen looked up from the dusty picture frames he’d been studying when a heavy thud rattled the ceiling above. “Mob?” he called out, but before he could take a step, another crash rumbled from above. His stomach dropped, and he bolted for the stairs.

With his mind racing, Mob quickly fumbled for the bow slung across his back and shakily snagged an arrow from the pouch. He tried to load it in, but his trembling hands slipped, and the arrow clattered to the floor. The monster was already getting up and moving again, getting ready for another strike. Mob’s breath hitched, coming in shallow bursts. He snatched the arrow again, forcing it into place on the string, the bow wobbling in his grip as he tried to steady his aim.

He drew the string back in a quick, shaky motion. He didn't have much time; the beast was already rushing forward, closing the gap. Mob clenched his teeth and finally let the arrow fly. It tore through the air and sank right into the monster’s eye with a sickening, wet crunch. The creature shrieked, jerking its head back as the shaft buried deep into the socket. It staggered, but was recovering quickly. 

Mob tried to snag another arrow, his fingers slipping against the wood, but the monster was already on him. It pounced, slamming him onto the ground and pinning him, knocking the air from his lungs. The back of his head hit the floor, the impact sending sparks through his vision. Its bony feet dug into his ribs and shoulders. Saliva and drops of dark blood dripped from its snarling jaw. 

Mob managed to yank his bow up just as it snapped down at him. Its teeth clashed against the wood, and the beast began shaking its head violently, trying to rip the weapon from the boy's hands. Mob tried to hang on with what little strength he had, but his grip was slipping. One of its jagged teeth scraped across his knuckles, resulting in a shallow cut. Mob could immediately feel the warm trickle of blood and the sudden, stinging pain. His powers sputtered uselessly, and there was nothing he could do. He was losing. 

A sudden rush of footsteps made Mob’s head snap up. All movement and sound seemed to blur together until a quick, flashing glint caught his eye. A sharp slicing and tearing sound ripped through the air as the monster's blood spilled onto his new clothes, and its head toppled down onto him. 

A hand came down and yanked the heavy body off of him. Once he was free, Mob sat up and scrambled backward, chest heaving, as he instinctively kicked the severed head away. His heart pounded so violently in his chest that it hurt. He couldn’t catch his breath, and he couldn’t stop shaking. 

Then, two hands came down firmly on his shoulders, and he realized Reigen was crouched in front of him; his bloody machete lay discarded on the floor next to them. “It’s okay, Mob. You’re alright, kiddo. I’ve got you.” 

The boy's eyes flicked between Reigen and the motionless monster, wide and unblinking. His fingers gripped Reigen’s sleeve tightly, digging in almost desperately. Reigen kept his eyes on the kid, doing what he could to calm him. 

“I got you, kid. It’s okay,” he repeated. Slowly, Mob’s trembling began to stop, though his chest still heaved and his knuckles were white as he gripped Reigen’s sleeve. The kid tried to hold back a few strained coughs, and as Reigen watched him wind down from his panic, he suddenly understood something. Mob wasn’t just frustrated that he couldn’t use his powers. He was terrified. The kid had relied on these powers throughout everything. It's what kept him safe. Now he’s not only scared that he can’t protect himself, but that he can’t protect Reigen either. 

Mob's eyes seemed to shift elsewhere, and Reigen glanced back, noticing a dark stain on the floor, smaller, but similar to the one downstairs. The boy’s eyes fixated on the mark as he slowly let go of Reigen's sleeve. Mob couldn't protect the people he cared for in the past, and it haunted him. Panic and despair clawed at him, but he shoved them aside just as quickly as they came, burying them deep where no one could see. He couldn’t let it surface. Not here, not now.

He eventually glanced back at Reigen, his expression carefully blank. Showing none of the fear that had flickered behind his eyes just moments ago. Like it just... disappeared completely. 

He then shuffled out of Reigen's grip and forced himself to his feet. With somewhat shaky and almost mechanical movements, he approached the monster’s severed head. He wrapped his fingers around the arrow embedded in its eye and pulled once. He then huffed and pressed his boot against the head for leverage. He tugged again, and the arrow finally came loose, causing him to nearly stumble back as he yanked it from the monster’s eye. 

Reigen looked at the arrow in Mob's hand and noticed a line of red along the back of the kid's knuckles. It looked like a small cut, probably from the monster's teeth. He finally straightened up and stepped over. 

"Hey, let me see," he said as he reached out and gently took Mob's hand, turning it over in the dim light to examine the cut closely. Mob still seemed to tense a bit under his touch, and the boy's gaze stayed glued to the floor. It wasn't too deep, but it would probably still need to be cleaned and bandaged. But that could wait for now, and Reigen let go. 

Mob remained quiet, keeping his head low, the shadow of his hair hiding his eyes. Just from his posture, Reigen could tell he was still tense from what had just happened. Without a word, Mob slipped the arrow back into his pouch, resecured his bow, then let his hands fall stiffly at his sides. He then turned and, with careful, quiet footsteps, finally stepped out of the room, not looking back.

Reigen retrieved his own weapon before lingering for a few seconds, glancing at the dark stain on the floor and the monster’s remains. Then, with a small sigh, he followed after Mob.

------

Dimple sighed, long and exaggerated, as his patience was wearing thin. He drifted aimlessly in slow circles above a grassy hill near a bridge. Reigen and Mob were supposed to meet up with him there as a sort of agreed-upon checkpoint. But damn, they were taking forever. How long could it possibly take to walk here?

He grumbled to himself before some movement on the slope finally caught his eye. Two figures were making their way up the hill at an infuriatingly slow pace. Dimple shook his head, clearly displeased as Reigen steadily trudged toward him. “Took you long enough.” 

“Sorry, we made a few pit stops,” Reigen apologized with a sheepish smile. 

“Yeah, well, I’ve been sitting here for hours while you two decided to go sightseeing. Pick up the pace next time. Now let's go.” 

“Actually,” Reigen cut in quickly before the spirit could float off. “I’m thinking we should stop for the day.” 

Dimple looked at him questioningly. “Why? You still have a couple hours of daylight left.” 

Reigen didn’t answer; instead, he glanced back over his shoulder. Dimple followed his gaze, annoyance still on his face, until he saw what Reigen saw. Slowly coming up just behind him was Mob. His shoulders slumped under the weight of his backpack, and his steps were slow and uneven, like he might stumble and fall over. The poor kid looked pale, out of breath, and completely drained. Dimple’s expression shifted from irritation into something almost unreadable. Yeah… it was probably a good idea to stop. 

The spirit let out another sigh and glanced toward Reigen again. “There are a few larger buildings across the bridge. I’ll scope them out and see what’s safe.”

"Thank you, Dimple." Reigen nodded before turning his head to check on Mob once more. Dimple didn't reply as he drifted off toward the bridge, soon disappearing out of sight. 

Reigen waited a moment for Mob to catch up before moving again. "Just a little further, Mob," he said gently. "Then we'll stop for the night." 

Mob gave the faintest nod, but didn't lift his head, staring down at the dirt and grass beneath his feet. Reigen knew it wasn't just exhaustion weighing down on the kid. It was also everything he was burying deep within himself. People can only keep things buried for so long before they start to spill over. Without thinking, Reigen matched his steps to Mob’s, staying close as they headed over the bridge. Watching Mob go through all this stirred something in Reigen. Mob was just a kid… He wanted to shield the boy, to make it a little easier to bear, but he also knew he couldn’t fix everything for him. For now, Reigen hoped that just being there for Mob was enough. 

------

Reigen gently smoothed over the wrap on the back of Mob’s hand, making sure it was snug, but not too tight. The cut wasn’t too bad, but the kid had already been sick. He didn’t need an infection on top of everything else. Even with a small cut, it's best to keep it clean. 

“There you go, kid,” Reigen said, giving the bandage one last check before letting go. Mob stayed still, his eyes glued to the floor, shoulders slightly hunched; he seemed almost completely zoned out. “All done,” Reigen reassured, giving Mob’s wrist a gentle tap before gathering up the supplies he had pulled out. 

"Thank you," Mob mumbled tiredly. It was the first thing he'd said since they left the weapons shop and headed toward the neighborhood earlier that day. 

As Reigen loaded their medical supplies back into his bag, Mob shifted and tried to get comfortable on the floor. Well, as comfortable as he could get. They had settled in some sort of auto garage. It faintly smelled of rust and old oil, and the floor was ice-cold concrete. Empty tool racks lined one wall, and dented metal cabinets sat in the corner. The large windows were all missing their panes, letting the last traces of daylight spill in. 

Reigen managed to put together a small fire, mostly consisting of smoldering embers, but it was enough for now. They didn’t need high flames, as too much light could draw attention. They also didn’t need too much smoke floating about. Even with the gaping windows, Mob’s lungs were still too fragile for that. Mob pulled out his blanket and lay his head on his backpack. He looked like he could pass out any second. 

“Hey,” Reigen called softly, drawing the kid’s attention from the dying fire as he pulled out one of the blankets he had picked up earlier. “It’s gonna get cold tonight.” He then tossed the blanket Mob’s way. 

The kid took it gratefully, adding it over top of his old one and wrapping himself in a tight blanket cocoon. Reigen dug out his own blanket, shook it out, and then draped it over himself before sitting back against the cold wall. He silently debated whether he should try to talk to Mob. About what happened today. About his home. About anything… 

He knew Mob had a troubled past. Of course, the kid did. But Reigen still didn’t know much. All he knew was that Mob was fourteen, had psychic powers, and was completely alone… Also, there was the whole accidentally unleashing monsters into the world thing. But that was a subject Reigen was a little too nervous to bring up. Not until Mob was completely ready… But would he ever be? Would he ever even feel ready to talk about his past more? If he didn’t want to, then Reigen was fine with it, but the man still couldn’t shake the curiosity that tugged at the back of his mind. He wanted to know more about this quiet, somewhat stubborn, oddly selfless kid who had stumbled into his life. 

He let out a slow breath, not really sure he was cut out for talks like this, but it was worth a try. However, as he turned and opened his mouth to speak, he suddenly stopped himself. Mob lay there, curled up in his blanket nest, his eyes hardly staying open as he watched the glowing embers. Reigen’s words died in his mouth. He wasn’t going to force the kid to talk, not now. Another time… 

“Hey, you’ve gotta take more meds in the morning before we head off again, don’t forget,” Reigen said quickly, shifting to a different subject. 

Mob only gave a quiet hum in response as he closed his eyes, and Reigen had a feeling he had already forgotten. The kid fell asleep within minutes. 

Reigen yawned as he watched the embers flicker gently in the dark garage. He waited for them to dim a bit more before following Mob’s lead. It was definitely a long first day of travel, and they still hadn’t even left the city yet. Hopefully, the following days will be better. 

His gaze was pulled from the small fire when a familiar voice entered the room. “The surrounding area looks safe. You’re welcome.” 

Reigen briefly glanced at the green spirit. “Thanks.” 

Dimple’s gaze drifted toward the blanket cocoon nearby. “Kid’s out already, huh? Must have been a long day.”

Reigen didn’t say anything in response, but the look on his face said it all. It had been a very long day. 

“Can I give you some advice, Reigen?” Dimple asked, floating a bit closer.

The man’s eyes shifted to the spirit once more. “Sure.”

“You’re gonna want to pick up the pace next time,” Dimple told him. Reigen stared at him, unsure if this was just more nagging, but there was something in the spirit’s tone. “I think Claw might be coming for you.” 

Reigen straightened up a bit. He hadn’t seen or heard anything so far. How would the spirit know this? “What makes you think that?” 

Dimple seemed to consider his next few words, his face appearing rather serious as he hovered closer to the small fire. “They killed him.” 

“Who?” Reigen muttered, already dreading the answer. 

“The man you made me take back. They killed him.” 

For a moment, all he could hear was the faint pop of the embers. Reigen’s heart sank, and he suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He had told himself he was doing the right thing, giving the man a chance, but now that chance had meant nothing at all. 

“I don’t think they realized he was possessed, but they got suspicious. That most likely began when I took over the body and started asking questions,” Dimple said, his voice low and steady. “I needed to in order to get the meds. I didn’t make it obvious, though. I just needed hints. Anyway, they connected the dots… So, that man probably would have been better off if I had left him somewhere else…” 

Reigen still said nothing, his hands balling into tight fists. Dimple continued on. “They knew the kid was sick, and it wasn’t the first time he’d stolen from them. They’ll figure it out if they haven’t already. I told you, Reigen… Your kindness would get you killed.”

The words sank like lead in his stomach. If Claw was starting to put the prices together, then this wasn't just bad news; this was the worst possible thing. He had seen enough of these assholes to know they wouldn't stop until they got what they wanted. He had seen them bully and threaten innocent people. He had seen them beat a sick and defenseless child. And that was just two of them. Who knows how the rest of them are? 

Reigen's jaw tightened, and he looked toward Mob, still curled up by the dying fire. The thought of telling the kid twisted something tight in his chest. If Mob knew, he'd push himself. He'd want to fight in order to protect himself and Reigen. Even a kid, too nervous to hold a bow and arrow in his hands, would still fight with whatever it took. 

"He could crash, Reigen. Hard.”

"He’ll burn himself out trying to protect you if it comes to that.”

No. He couldn't let that happen. Mob was already carrying too much, so Reigen decided to keep this to himself for now. He wanted to let the kid rest, let him breathe. He wanted Mob to let someone take care of him for a change. Reigen would carry the worry alone if that’s what it took. They'll just have to keep moving, keep outpacing Claw. Stay one step ahead, better yet, one mile. 

He slowly unclenched his fists and let out a steadying breath, turning his gaze back to the fire. “I understand… We’ll leave at first light. Hopefully, we still have some time to put some distance between us.” 

Dimple nodded. “I know you wanted to take it slow for the kid, but if you want to keep him alive and safe, go about it wisely.” 

Reigen stayed silent as Mob slept, his breathing soft and steady, blissfully unaware of the danger creeping closer.

Chapter Text

Leaving the city behind should have felt like freedom, but instead it weighed on Mob like a stone. He thought a change of scenery might be nice, but the city was all he knew over the years. It felt so far now, swallowed by distance and clouds. Mob could barely see it anymore as he gazed down the long stretch of highway, and he knew there was no going back. He let out a slow breath and watched as it curled into a fog in front of him. The sky was thick with heavy, grey clouds that swallowed the sun whole. Not a single sliver of light managed to break through. 

He stood leaned against the side of an abandoned car. The metal was so cold, he could feel it through his hoodie and jacket. For a moment, he stayed still, listening. The road stretched on in either direction, empty and silent, the kind of silence that made his ears ring. Only Reigen’s occasional shuffle broke it, followed by a whispered “Damnit” and the clink of tools from where he worked under the hood of the car.

Mob leaned forward a bit, glancing toward the man briefly before letting his gaze drift back down the road. It was lined with a few scattered cars that had been left behind years ago. Doors hung open, and their windows were coated with grime, some of which were cracked or covered in a light frost. Looking back the other way, the outline of the city was little more than a smudge on the horizon now, a grey blur dissolving beneath the sky. 

Mob once again felt that strange weight in his chest that he couldn’t quite explain. The silence felt heavier out here, uncomfortably so. As if something unseen was lurking just beyond his vision, and he had no way of knowing. Like they were being watched, even though he knew they weren’t. There was nothing lingering out here… right? Mob swallowed and began to wonder if they were really safer out here, or if they were stepping deeper into the unknown.

He was eventually snapped from his thoughts by the sound of the hood slamming shut. “This one's a no-go, kid,” Reigen sighed, brushing his hands off as he stepped around the car. He wasn’t even going to attempt a start. It was a waste of time. “Thought if I could get us a car running, we’d make better time and some distance. Guess I got a little too confident in my abilities after fixing that dinky little stove.” 

Reigen let out an awkward chuckle, but it faded quickly as Mob stood there silently, rubbing his arms against the chill in the air. “Reigen,” he muttered after a moment, catching the man’s attention. “I’m cold…” 

Mob’s voice sounded so small in that moment, and he even looked young, curled up like that. Well, younger than he was. This was more fragile and childlike. Reigen couldn’t help but frown. “I know, bud. I am, too,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair as his eyes shifted to the dead car beside him. “Sorry, I wasted so much time on this.” 

Mob just shook his head wordlessly, not wanting the man to feel bad or guilty. Reigen gave the boy a half smile before his eyes too drifted up to the sky. The clouds sure were low and heavy, which meant snow might be on its way. He winced a bit before turning his attention back to the kid. “Come on, we should get moving again, Mob. Hopefully, we can find a decent place to stop before dark.” 

Mob nodded and pushed himself off the rusted old car. “How far do we have to go?” he asked quietly. 

Reigen could only shrug. “Not entirely sure. We’re mostly just following Dimple’s lead here. He’s helped us a lot, but at the end of the day, it’s still just a rumor. Not entirely sure how much I trust him, or it. I mean, why would this random spirit want to help us so much?” Reigen wondered, bending slightly to snatch his bag from where it leaned against the car. “What do you think?”

Mob was silent for a moment, actually taking the time to think about it. His gaze eventually drifted to the cracked pavement, the faded highway lines barely visible now. His boot gently nudged a pebble before he finally spoke his opinion. “I think he’s like us,” he murmured. 

Reigen glanced at him curiously as he hoisted his bag over his shoulder. “Like us?” 

Mob slowly lifted his eyes as he looked at Reigen once more. “I think he’s lonely.” 

For a moment, Reigen just stared at the kid as his words sank in. Then, his expression eased into a soft, warm smile. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I think so too.”

Reigen gripped his bag strap tightly and motioned for Mob to follow before setting off down the road. Mob took one last glance at the fading city behind them before turning and falling into step with Reigen. The long highway seemed to stretch endlessly ahead of them, its silence disrupted only by the echo of their footsteps and the distant sound of wind. 

------

They eventually left the wide lanes of highway behind, trading them for the narrow paths of the countryside. Long behind them were the large buildings of the city, as they were now surrounded by sprawling fields and farmland. The chilled winter breeze danced through the tall grasses of the fields, rustling them gently like a wave. Off in the distance, dense trees and forests took over the hills. While the city had slowly become overgrown, this was the closest either of them had been to actual nature in years. It was actually kind of nice. 

The narrow path they followed cut between two large fields, where tall grass and weeds were overgrown and spilled over the edges, brushing against their legs as they walked. Reigen took in the openness of the area. It was quite beautiful, with golden stalks swaying in the breeze and the horizon stretching on into the pale winter sky. However, these open, empty fields left them exposed. Out here, it was harder for something to sneak up on them, but there was also nowhere to hide. 

As Reigen scanned the quiet stretch of farmland, his eyes landed on a few small houses scattered across the fields in the distance. They all seemed quite run down with sagging roofs and broken windows. Still, one of them looked just a bit sturdier than the rest. Good enough... 

He exhaled through his nose and tipped his head in its direction. “There. That one’s our best bet for tonight.”

Mob followed his gaze to the crumbling farmhouse and his brows pinched ever so slightly as unease flashed across his face. "Are you sure?" he asked quietly. "It... doesn't look very safe." His tone was neutral, but Reigen could tell the kid was unsure. 

He let out a soft sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's better than anything else we’ve passed. Unfortunately, we aren't in the city anymore, Mob. The further out we go, the fewer options we'll have. So, we gotta take what we can get." 

Mob’s lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes lingering on the distant house. After a long moment, he finally muttered, “What if something’s already living in there?”

“Then we deal with it,” Reigen said simply, forcing a faint smile to try and ease the kid’s uncertainty. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” 

Mob hesitated before he gave a small nod. 

As they drew closer to the house, it didn't look quite as bad as it did from the road. The wood was worn and stained dark from weathering. The roof sagged slightly, but it still looked solid enough to keep any snow and wind at bay. A couple of windows were missing, leaving dark gaps in their frames. Weeds swallowed what was once the front area, and some rusted tools lay forgotten and scattered about. But overall, not that bad. 

Reigen slowed to a stop, several feet from the entrance, and of course Mob followed suit. "Wait out here, okay?" he said, glancing toward the boy beside him. "I'll go check out the inside first, make sure it's safe." 

Mob looked like he wanted to argue for a brief moment, but ultimately, he followed Reigen’s order and stood in place with a silent nod. 

Thankful that the boy seemed to understand, Reigen stepped forward and toward the entrance of the home. The door was hard to open at first, sticking quite firmly, but he was eventually able to force it open. However, he was immediately hit with an awful smell. He knew that smell well, stale air mixed with something that had been left to rot. 

He grimaced and lifted a hand to his face as he slipped inside. The inside was rather dark, only slightly lit by the dull light filtering through the broken windows. Dust clung to every surface, even the once-polished wood floors and tatami mats that lined the main room. A low wooden table sat in the corner of the room, toppled on its side with one leg broken off completely. Cobwebs hung between the beams overhead, swaying in the draft that entered the room. Reigen slowly stepped in further, and every creak of the floor beneath his feet felt eerie. 

As he wandered further into the house, his eyes steadily adjusted, and the smell grew stronger. He crept down a narrow hallway, keeping his eyes open and listening for any sound. Further down, he noticed a door that stood slightly ajar and headed toward it. He paused and drew in a breath before sliding it open fully. That's when he saw it. 

The room was small, likely a bedroom once. A futon was tucked in the corner, half-folded, but what lay just next to it made his stomach twist. A body, long since rotted and now a husk of skin and bone. It was dressed in worn, faded clothes that hung off of it like rags. The rope around its neck was weak and frayed. It must have given and snapped at some point. 

For a long moment, Reigen just stared, his breath caught in his throat. His first instinct was to shut the door and pretend he hadn't seen it, hopefully get it out of his mind. But then, he remembered the kid waiting outside and the way Mob always carried things heavier than he should. The boy didn't need to see this; Reigen couldn't let that happen.  

“Shit…” he breathed out. He swallowed hard, pushing down the dread that crawled up his spine. Moving quickly, he snagged an old, thick blanket and draped it over the remains, wrapping it as carefully as he could. He thought about just hiding the body like this, but there was still the chance Mob might find it, and he didn't want to risk that. In a strange way, he felt like he was covering up a brutal crime scene. 

"Sorry," Reigen muttered under his breath, and with a grunt, he lifted the bundle of blanket and corpse, heading out of the room and for the back door. He had to move quickly before Mob got suspicious. He slipped out the back of the house, the cold air hitting him immediately, but it was a lot better than the stench in that back room. He carried the body past a small, overgrown garden and into the tall grasses behind the house. He walked several yards until the weeds and wild growth grew the thickest, and then he laid the body down gently before pulling some grasses over it until it was tucked out of sight. 

He stood there for a moment, staring down at the still shape, when he realized his hands were shaking just a little. He then wiped them on his pants and desperately wished he could wash them, but there was no room for hopes and dreams in this world. He drew in a sharp breath before forcing it out slowly. Once he managed to stop his hands from shaking, he marched back to the house. Besides the body, everything else seemed clear and safe. Time to get the kid. 

However, when Reigen cut back through the house and stepped out of the front door to retrieve the teen, Mob was gone. His chest tightened as panic kicked in for a second. He spun in a quick circle, his eyes darting over the road and fields before rushing forward at a quick pace. 

"Mob?" He called, maybe a little louder than he meant to, as he strode around the front area, but no answer came. He tried once more, ready to bolt in another direction when something caught his eye. Relief flooded through him as he spotted the boy, standing off near the side of the house. He was still and quiet, his eyes fixed on the ground in front of him. 

Reigen let out a somewhat shaky sigh before approaching the kid. He was nearly ready to scold Mob for disappearing and scaring the hell out of him, but the words died in his throat the closer he came. Something about the way Mob stood there like a statue made Reigen feel like he should stay quiet. When he finally came up beside him, he saw what the boy was staring at. 

Two mounds of dirt, each topped with carefully placed stones, and long-dead flowers that were brittle and crumbling. Besides them, an open hole with dirt resting next to it, waiting to be filled. 

Graves...

Reigen's stomach sank, and his mind shifted back to the rotting body in the house. The empty hole. Of course, that was who it had been meant for. But three graves? Whoever had dug them must’ve known the last one would never be filled, not by them at least. Maybe… maybe they’d hoped someone else would come along. Someone who cared enough to finish what they couldn’t.

Reigen clenched his fist at his side as he kept his face carefully blank. He’d do it himself tonight. After Mob was asleep, he’d come back out here and lay them to rest with the others. It was the least he could do. The kid didn’t need to know or see any of this.

For good reason, too. Just looking at the graves, Mob looked so torn up. His jaw was tight, and his hands were balled into trembling fists at his sides as he stared at the mounds of dirt, unblinking. Reigen knew exactly what was going through the kid’s mind, and he didn’t like it. No person should carry this weight, let alone a child. He wanted to tell Mob that none of this was his fault, but he knew his words wouldn’t help right now. 

Reigen let out a quiet breath, then managed to work up a soft, reassuring smile as he looked at Mob. “Shall we pay our respects?” he asked gently. 

Mob finally tore his eyes away and glanced at Reigen before finally giving the man a small, timid nod. 

Together, they stepped closer. Reigen crouched down in front of the graves, bowing his head, while Mob lowered himself stiffly beside him. For a long moment, neither of them spoke, and only the soft winter breeze filled their ears. Soon, Mob's fists finally eased open just a bit, and his trembling shoulders stilled. Reigen smiled weakly before closing his eyes. He wasn't praying; he hadn't prayed in years, even before all of this. But he still offered quiet acknowledgement for the dead, and for the boy at his side. 

When they finally stood again, they remained silent, exchanging no words. That was fine. Nothing needed to be said. Reigen just gently grabbed Mob's arm and guided the boy back toward the house. 

------

Mob exhaled softly, trying to ignore the faint creaks that drifted through the old farmhouse. He sat cross-legged on the empty floor toward the edge of the room, one hand slightly raised as an old teacup hovered just a few inches in front of him, coated in a purplish blue hue. The motion wasn't all that smooth as the cup nearly trembled in the air. 

His powers still felt strange and unsteady to him. It was like trying to remember how to ride a bike, feeling all wobbly and wrong. His strength was coming back to him, sure, but not as quickly as he wanted. That dissatisfaction showed in the tightness of his brow, the way his lips pressed thin in concentration.

Reigen watched the boy quietly as he placed his bag down on the floor. He could see the slight frustration creeping across Mob’s face as the cup jostled clumsily in the air. Reigen decided to clear his throat softly, breaking the boy’s focus. “Mob,” he said gently, heading to the center of the room to sit. “Come on, kid. Take a rest.”

Mob carefully lowered the cracked teacup back to the floor with no argument, then shuffled over to where Reigen had settled. He dropped down beside the man, folding his legs beneath him as he remained silent. Reigen’s eyes had drifted toward the sunken hearth in the middle of the room, and a faint smile tugged at his lips.

“We lucked out, huh?” he said lightly, nodding toward it before glancing back at Mob. “Perfect place to build a fire.”

Mob gave a small nod of agreement, but when his gaze returned to Reigen, he noticed the man was looking at him expectantly. He started to feel a bit nervous under his gaze, and his hands curled slightly against his knees.

"Well?" Reigen spoke, quirking a brow. 

Mob blinked, then sat up straighter in sudden realization. Oh. He was supposed to build the fire. Mob could hear Reigen chuckle quietly as the boy quickly scrambled to his feet. He took one quick look around and noticed a small pile of wood toward another corner of the room. He rushed over before crouching beside it, carefully picking through it until he found a few decent pieces. Cradling them against his chest, he padded back over to the hearth and sank to the floor once more, determined not to mess this up. 

His movements were slow and careful, and every so often, he would quickly glance at Reigen, just to check in and see if he was doing everything right. Even the tiniest adjustment, he would still pause and look toward Reigen for approval. But the man never interrupted and would just answer the kid with a smile and an encouraging nod. He didn’t give hints or advice; instead, wanting Mob to figure things out for himself and test what he had learned with his own hands. 

When Mob was satisfied, he finally struck the flame, leaning in carefully and shielding it until it caught. Then came the process of feeding the fire and letting it breathe and grow. Within minutes, a strong and steady fire had crackled to life, bright and warm. The best one Mob had ever made, and Reigen couldn't help but smile as a small hint of pride swelled in his chest.

“Great job, kiddo.” 

Mob's head snapped toward Reigen, his eyes widening for just a moment before he ducked his head again, looking toward the fire. Then, a small smile crept to his face. This wasn't a quick one either; it lingered a bit longer. It was warm and soft, like sunlight finally breaking through harsh winter clouds. 

But after a moment, it faded, and Mob's hands fidgeted in his lap. "I... I had to learn on my own before," he said quietly, his eyes watching the flickering fire. "When I was by myself. I don't know how long I would have lasted if I didn't. But it was really hard... They always went out in minutes." His voice dropped lower, nearly swallowed by the crackling fire. “Sometimes I just… gave up.” 

Reigen felt that familiar twist in his chest once again, though he wasn't surprised. He figured as much. The poor boy had been on his own for far too long, forced to pick up survival skills no kid should have to worry about. 

"Well, you've got the hang of it now," Reigen smiled, keeping his tone light. “And you don't have to do it alone anymore, I promise."

The fire crackled softly between them as Mob's gaze stayed on the flames. His expression was unreadable for a long moment before he finally spoke again. "Thank you," he mumbled, almost too quietly to hear.  

Reigen stared the the boy for a brief moment before tilting his head. "For what?" 

Mob shifted a bit, his fingers brushing absently over the tatami mat. "For showing me how to do it better. I really appreciate it." 

Reigen felt something tug at him, but he managed a warm smile. "Of course. Anytime, kid. That's what I'm here for." 

They sat in comfortable silence for several minutes. But Reigen could tell there was still something on Mob's mind. He was starting to feel a little more confident in reading the kid. His expressions were subtle, but they were beginning to feel a bit easier to understand. And right now, something was tugging at Mob’s thoughts; he could see it on his face, the way his eyes lingered on the flames. When Mob finally noticed Reigen looking his way, he opened his mouth to say something, but then hesitated. Reigen remained patient and waited, giving the kid time. It seemed like he was ready to speak his mind, which he probably didn’t do often. 

After a moment, Mob finally spoke. “This new place… W-Where we’re going… Will it really be better?” 

Reigen drew in a long breath through his nose before letting it out slowly. He didn’t exactly have an answer. He knew just about as much of this mysterious compound as Mob did. They were going based on a rumor that Dimple had heard. For all they knew, it might not even exist. In which case, Reigen would have to come up with a backup plan. The countryside seemed rather quiet, but quiet didn’t always mean safe… 

“I’m gonna be honest, kid, I’m not too sure. We’ll just have to see, I guess.” 

Mob didn’t seem too satisfied with his answer. His eyes drifted to the floor. “What if it’s Claw? What if it’s one of their bases?” 

Reigen blinked. Honestly, he hadn’t really considered that. He figured Claw did most of their activities within the limits of the city, which included bases and hideouts. “Look, kid,” he said, keeping his tone calm. “If things seem off when we get there, then we’ll leave. Simple as that.” 

Mob’s eyes flicked back up to Reigen, his face serious once again. “What if we don’t even get the chance?” 

Reigen opened his mouth, but no answer came right away. He nearly cringed at his lack of words and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, trying to find an answer. “Then…” he paused, then smiled a bit. “Then I’ll make sure we get one. I’ve got some tricks up my sleeve, you know. I’m very good at talking my way out of most situations. So don’t worry so much.” 

Mob finally gave the faintest nod. Though the worry didn’t quite leave his face, he didn’t seem as serious as he was. His gaze slipped back to the fire, and Reigen was almost relieved that his answer worked for now. 

After a few minutes, the silence was broken by the quiet rumble of Mob’s stomach. The boy seemed a little embarrassed, curling up with his knees to his chest as if trying to hide the sound and his hunger. 

Without hesitation, Reigen grabbed his backpack and began rifling through it. His eyes swept over what little they had left, landing on a few protein bars. He bit back a sigh. Not nearly enough.

He must have looked concerned and maybe even a little frustrated, because when Mob's gaze shifted toward him, it seemed like he knew exactly what the man was thinking. "It's okay, Reigen,” he spoke softly, “I'm used to going without food for a while. I'll be fine." 

Reigen frowned at that. If Mob thought his words might make the man feel better, they didn’t. He wasn't surprised the boy could handle it; what made him uneasy was that he shouldn't have had to be used to it at all. The thought of all those times Mob might have gone hungry and suffered alone made Reigen's own stomach twist uncomfortably. 

No, not anymore. Reigen was not going to let this kid go hungry on his watch. Not ever. 

He squared his shoulders and glanced toward the windows. There was maybe an hour of daylight left, but the sky was still grey with thick clouds. Still, if he was lucky, he might be able to catch something before dark. It was worth a try. 

He shoved his bag aside and got to his feet, brushing some dust off his pants. “I’ll see if I can find us something.” 

Mob’s gaze shot up quickly, his dark eyes locking onto him. Reigen managed to catch the faint traces of hesitation and maybe even worry in the boy’s expression. Mob began to slowly uncurl, but had yet to say anything to Reigen, though he looked like he wanted to.  

As Reigen turned to head for the door, Mob finally spoke up. "W-Wait, can I go too?"

Reigen paused and looked back at the boy. He wasn't sure if Mob wanted to come because he wanted to help, or if he just didn't want to be left alone. Maybe it was both. Either way, Reigen could already tell that if he said no, the kid would just end up following him anyway. Mob was probably just asking permission to be polite. 

Still, he studied the boy for a moment. Mob's posture was stiff, his fingers curled at his sides, and his eyes seemed determined as they stared the man down. Of course, he'd rather Mob stay safe and warm by the fire, but that wasn't going to happen. His shoulders slumped, but he gave the boy a smile. "Alright. Sure, kid."

To his surprise, Mob's face seemed to light up just a bit, the tension easing from his body, and he quickly got to his feet to join Reigen. 

"Remember to stay close," Reigen added as he reached for the door. And Mob gave him a firm nod. 

------

The two made their way across the fields in silence. The tall, brittle grass brushed against their jackets and crunched under their feet as they pushed through. Mob drifted closer to Reigen, letting the man take the lead and almost using him as a shield against the sharp stalks. 

The woods that stood at the edge of the fields drew nearer. Barren trees and dark pines swallow any light within the forest. Just as Reigen had predicted, a few flurries drifted down from the pale sky, light and slow. It was a nice sight, but the dark clouds promised more than just a light dusting. Reigen's jaw tightened. If a storm rolled in overnight, things could get complicated. 

When they slipped beneath the first line of trees, the change in atmosphere was immediate. The woods were nearly dead silent. No bird calls or scurrying of small animals. There was nothing but the occasional groan of branches that shifted in the wind overhead. Still, Reigen kept his eyes sharp for the smallest movement of anything. 

The deeper they went, the darker the woods became. The last hints of the sun were already sinking behind the hills, light now barely filtered through the branches and pines. The air was even colder and sharper now as their footsteps crunched against the thin frost that spread across the forest floor. Reigen kept glancing at the sky, trying to gauge how much light they had left, which wasn't much, and how quickly this light snowfall might turn heavy. They needed to find something quick and head back. 

They had wandered for what felt like ages without seeing a thing until Reigen's eye finally caught some movement. A small shape darted between two trees several feet ahead and came to a rest in a patch of dead leaves. A rabbit. Perfect. 

Reigen crouched down slightly, his breath fogging heavily in the air as he was caught between both relief and hesitation. They needed this badly, but catching the thing was another story. He can't just walk up and snag it with his bare hands. Using his gun was out of the question, way too loud and way too risky. Maybe Mob could snag it with his powers, but that was also another risk, and Reigen didn't really want the kid using them. Besides, Mob might not like that plan. 

Reigen glanced at the boy, then the idea hit him. "Hey, Mob," he whispered, not wanting to scare the rabbit off. "Can I borrow your weapon for a second?" 

Mob blinked, a bit confused at first, but then his expression shifted as the meaning sank in. "Y-You're going to kill it?" he asked softly, as his gaze darted toward the rabbit. 

"That's the idea," Reigen muttered. 

Mob's eyes lingered on the small animal as he stiffened a bit, making no effort to reach for his bow. "C-Couldn't we just... maybe find a stream instead and try to find some fish? That way we wouldn't have to..." His voice slowly trailed off. It was clear the boy didn't want to see the rabbit killed, but there weren't many options right now. 

Reigen sighed through his nose. He felt guilt claw at him, but he needed the boy to understand. "Mob, look, I get it, kiddo. But we can't just wander around the woods hoping we find a stream, let alone some fish. We're losing daylight, and this is in front of us right here and right now. We have to go for it." 

Mob lowered his gaze and stood silent for a moment before he wordlessly handed over his bow to Reigen. He gave the kid a nod of thanks, rose to his feet, and prepared the weapon. It definitely wasn't like his gun, but after years of practice, he knew how to aim. It was still worth a shot. 

The rabbit's nose twitched, and its ears flicked with the gentle rustle of wind. Crows cawed faintly in the distance, drawing Mob’s attention toward the sound for a second. Reigen narrowed his gaze as he drew the string back. After a careful moment, he let the arrow fly. 

The snap of the shot broke through the distant noise and was followed by a soft thud. The rabbit collapsed instantly, motionless on the cold ground. 

Mob flinched at the sound and couldn't bring himself to look, his hands clenched tightly at his sides. The caws grew louder in the distance. 

Reigen lowered the bow with a quiet exhale. He didn't feel good about it either, but the hollow ache in his stomach reminded him why it needed to be done. His gaze shifted to Mob, catching the upset look on the boy's face. 

"Hey," he said gently, stepping closer. "I know you don't like it. Neither do I kid, it sucks. But that's just how it works out here, okay? Ya know, food chain, circle of life, all that stuff from school, remember? We can't scrounge around for food like we did in the city. We have to take what we can get. If we don't eat, we don't keep going." He then held out the bow for Mob to take. 

After a moment, the boy faintly nodded, though he didn't look up. He let out a soft breath before reaching for the weapon and taking it back. 

Reigen wasn't quite satisfied with their interaction, but they could discuss it further once they were safely back at the house. He gave the boy a gentle pat on the shoulder before stepping forward to retrieve the rabbit. 

The sudden beat of wings from above caught Mob's attention as a crow perched itself on a low branch. Its dark eyes stared down at them as it let out two sharp caws that echoed through the woods. Mob instantly got a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Reigen..." 

"Hold on, bud," Reigen said, scooping up the rabbit and tugging the arrow free. He wiped it on his pants before trudging back toward the boy.  

Soon, another crow swooped in, then another. Their cries cut through the silence of the forest, echoing through the trees and multiplying into an unnerving chorus. "Reigen..." Mob called once more, his chest tightening as his eyes darted around the shadows. The trees seemed darker now, the light draining faster than before. 

Reigen noticed it too as the tension finally caught up to him. His steps faltered, then stopped completely as his gaze swept over the tree line. It could be nothing, he thought, only for that hope to be shattered in an instant. The first sound came from behind him, the splintering crack of a branch snapping under something heavy and large. Then another, closer this time. Mob's breath hitched as he stiffened up. 

Then, they appeared. Shapes slipped out from behind the trees one by one, circling them like a pack of wolves closing in. Low growls rippled through the air, their hollow eye sockets glowing faintly with unnatural light against the dark as they crept into view. Their skeletal feet crunched the dead leaves, and the claws sank into the dirt beneath them. 

"Fuck..." Reigen muttered, and his eyes slowly drifted toward Mob. They were still a few feet apart, but neither made any sudden movements. Reigen's blood ran cold, and his pulse thundered in his ears. They couldn't just stand here like deer in headlights. They needed to move. 

"Mob... Run."

But Mob didn't budge; he kept his gaze sharp on the beasts as they began to close in. "But... I..." 

Reigen couldn't tell what exactly was going through the boy's mind, but he had a pretty good guess. "Kid, don't argue with me. Just run!" he barked, his voice holding fear and desperation. 

When Mob still didn't move, Reigen knew he had to make the kid move. With a quick motion, he stepped forward and grabbed Mob's arm. He yanked the boy forward, and Mob stumbled, nearly losing his footing as Reigen pulled him along. They didn't get far, as one of the beasts hurled itself right into their path. Reigen cursed under his breath, tightening his grip on Mob. It was only a split second later when another creature lunged between them, bone claws skirting against the frozen ground. 

The two of them were forced apart, Reigen stumbling back and hitting the ground hard while Mob ducked under a razor-sharp swipe. When Reigen looked up again, two monsters were already stalking toward him. He scrambled backward, trying to bring himself to get to his damn feet. Then, a sudden surge of energy rippled through the air,  catching both his and the creature's attention. 

The beasts turned toward the source, low growls rumbling from their hollow chests. Mob stood several feet away, one trembling hand slightly raised with a fearful, but determined look on his face. One by one, the monsters shifted their focus to him, circling him like predators closing in on fresh prey. Reigen quickly shot up, using a tree and leverage to get to his feet.  

"Mob!" he called, but the boy didn't even look his way. "Don't fight, Mob! Don't you dare!" His words were sharp and commanding, like a parent scolding their child when they were about to do something stupid. But Reigen didn’t care how it sounded. "I told you to run! Listen to me!" 

The forest around them exploded into chaos. The crows' shrieks were deafening overhead as black wings rustled and flapped in irritation, and low growls and snarls echoed through the trees. The snow was starting to fall in heavier sheets, swirling down thick and fast, blurring everything into shifting shadows and white haze. 

Mob's eyes flicked toward Reigen for a moment as he slowly backed away from the beasts. Reigen gave him one last desperate look, silently pleading for him to just run and not fight. But the boy did not listen... 

Mob gritted his teeth and pushed forth another unsteady surge of power, shoving the monsters back a few steps and nearly knocking them off balance. It was almost like a warning to the beasts, but also a distraction to keep their attention locked on him. He took several more steps back, retreating further into the storm as the beasts followed. Reigen squinted through the blur of snow, not wanting to lose the kid, but Mob had vanished from his sight. 

"Damnit, Mob!" Reigen spat under his breath as he began shuffling forward after them, only for a straggler to launch itself in his way. Its screech echoed through the woods as it lunged again, bone claws ready to swipe and sink into him. Reigen staggered back before darting sideways, out of its path. He weaved between trees as fast as his legs could take him, all while trying to stay hidden. 

The snow came down heavier now, and blurred the world into a white haze. He could no longer see Mob or any of the other hellhounds. But he could hear the muffled sounds of growls and roars in the distance. Reigen felt his stomach drop as he pressed a hand on a nearby trunk for balance. Please let him be okay...

He wanted to follow the noise, but Reigen had his own problem to deal with at the moment. The beast was still on him, its growls rattling closer as Reigen continued to weave and duck behind trees. He could hear the beast prowling several feet nearby, searching for him. Its raspy breaths and low snuffles sent a shiver up his spine. 

A flicker of something blowing in the wind caught his eye. He turned his head and noticed it was the rabbit' fur. It lay a few trees away, half-buried in the snow. He must have dropped it during the scuffle. He eyed the carcass. That was their food, the very thing they desperately needed, but there were more pressing concerns to worry about right now. 

He drew in a slow breath, then made his move. He bolted from his cover, quickly snatched the dead animal, and threw himself back behind another tree. The monster let out a guttural cry from the noise he had made and began to lumber closer. Reigen's pulse spiked, and he had no time to waste. With one quick motion, he hurled the rabbit as far as he could. The carcass hit the ground with a dull thud, and the beast was on it immediately, instantly tearing the tiny creature to shreds. Better it than him. 

With the hellhound distracted, Reigen finally took the opportunity to slip away into the white blur. He moved fast and kept low, his boots crunching softly in the fresh snow. The sounds of the feeding beast faded behind him as he pushed forward with one thing on his mind. Find Mob before it's too late.

Mob stumbled blindly through the dark and the swirling snow, each step crunching on the frozen ground. He couldn't see much, but he could still hear the monsters as they circled him, the snarls, the scrapes of claws, and the cracks of branches. He meant to lose them and circle back to find Reigen, but now he had no clue where he was. The forest around him became disorienting and endless, every direction the exact same. His chest burned as he sucked in icy air that nearly made him double over and cough, but he pressed a hand to his mouth, forcing it back down. He wanted to call out to Reigen, but knew that might not be a good idea. 

Then, a shadow lunged out of the storm. Mob flinched, his body moving before his mind caught up. On instinct, his hand shot out quickly as psychic energy sparked and stuttered at his fingertips. Fortunately, it was enough to halt the beast mid charge. It thrashed in his hold, its skeletal limbs clawing at the snow, inching closer despite the force pressing on it. Mob’s breath was ragged as he poured everything into holding it back. He started to feel a throbbing in the back of his head, but he didn't let go. Inch by inch, the creature fought against his powers, its haunting eyes burning into his. 

With a strangled cry, Mob clenched his fist. The force was sudden and brutal as bone cracked loudly and the monster's skull tore free from its spine. It crashed lifelessly into the snow, its dark blood already soaking into the white. Mob leaned forward, but he didn't get a chance to catch his breath. Another growl came from behind, and he quickly spun just to see a second beast pouncing, its jaws open wide. Panic surged through him, and his powers flared again, wild and uneven. The wave of psychic energy slammed into the creature, snapping its neck at a sickening angle. Its head wrenched sideways before it was also torn loose completely. Dark blood sprayed across Mob's face and jacket, and the body collapsed into a twitching heap at his feet. 

Mob let out a shaky breath, the taste of blood on his lips, his hands shaking violently as his powers still hummed unsteadily under his skin. Then, he staggered, his vision swimming. His legs felt wobbly, threatening to give out, and the strain of forcing his powers forward left his skull pounding with a sharp ache. 

He braced against the nearest tree, his chest heaving. Each breath felt sharp in his throat as they fogged in the frigid air. He slowly lowered himself against the rough bark of the tree, his knees buckling as he sank into the snow. He needed to rest, just for a minute. He let out a few weak coughs and wanted to close his eyes, but knew he couldn't. 

There was one still out there, stalking him. He could hear it, and he could feel its eyes on him. He slowly brought his hand up, trying to reach and grab his bow, but his fingers fumbled clumsily against the wood. His arms shook, and he eventually gave up. He didn't have the strength for another fight. But it didn't matter. As long as Reigen got away and was safe, that was all that mattered. 

He drew in a slow breath as he heard its footsteps press against the fresh snow, drawing closer. 

Reigen swiftly ducked behind another tree. He kept his eyes and ears open as he scanned the area. The snow was growing thicker and thicker. They needed to get out of it. 

He crept forward again, only for his boot to snag on something half-buried in the snow. He glanced down and froze. A beast's head lay there, its jaw slack and coated in already freezing blood. The rest of its body was sprawled a short distance away, with another carcass slumped nearby. The snow around them was soaked through, dark patches staining the white. 

Reigen swallowed hard. Mob… He couldn’t imagine the energy it might have cost the kid to do this. 

He pressed on, continuing to scan through the heavy snow until he finally spotted a small figure sitting against a tree. Relief washed over him, and Reigen was about to dart toward the kid, only to notice a beast coming up behind the tree, searching. 

"Shit..." he breathed, scanning the area around him frantically for something, anything. He managed to spot a decent-sized rock and snagged it quickly. The beast was close to Mob now, its snout poking from beside the tree. Reigen glanced around his hiding spot before chucking the rock with all his strength. The rock bounced off a few distant trees, the sound echoing throughout the woods like a gunshot. The beast growled and immediately turned, bolting in the direction of the sound. 

Mob heard the beast run off, its footsteps quickly fading. He stayed still for a moment, straining to hear anything over the howling wind. Slowly, he peeked around the tree, only to see nothing but shadows and snow. He let out a shaky breath. A second later, a hand came down on his shoulder. Mob nearly jumped out of his skin as he swiftly turned, his powers prickling at his fingertips, before a voice reached his ears. 

"It's okay. It's okay, kid, it's just me." 

"Reigen..." Mob mumbled tiredly. 

The man swallowed hard, his throat dry and his mind swirling with so much at once. He wasn't sure where to start, but the words poured out anyway. "Why didn't you run when I told you to?" 

The boy lowered his gaze, clearly unsure of what to say. 

"I also told you not to fight," Reigen continued, his voice firm and clearly upset. "Why didn't you listen to me? What the hell were you thinking?" 

Mob’s voice wavered before he could even begin speaking, his eyes focusing on the snow beneath them, instead of looking at Reigen. "I-I'm sorry. I couldn't just leave you... If they—If they had gotten," he pulled in a sharp breath, trying to calm down a bit, though his voice cracked anyway. "I couldn't leave you. I couldn't leave..." 

Reigen let out a long, quiet sigh. He wasn't angry at Mob, not really. He was just scared. He could have lost the kid out here, and the kid was clearly scared of losing him, too. Reigen forced himself to breathe and calm the pounding in his chest. They shouldn't be doing this right now, not out in the middle of the snow. Not when Mob looked pale, exhausted, and he was starting to shiver. They needed to get back.

"Are you injured?" Reigen asked gently. 

Mob finally looked up at him and slowly shook his head. "N-No, just tired... and my head hurts, kind of." 

Reigen slowly nodded, concern overtaking his earlier frustration. His eyes swept over the trees before he spoke again. "We need to get back to the house, okay?" 

Mob agreed quickly, and Reigen helped him to his feet. "Mob, the next time I tell you not to fight or use your powers, you listen, got it?" 

Mob bit his lip, but reluctantly nodded. "Y-Yes… I'm sorry." 

"Don't worry about it right now, kiddo. Let's just get back quickly." 

Reigen slipped his arm over Mob’s shoulder, steadying the boy and letting him lean into him as he carefully guided him through the thick snow. It was falling in such heavy globs, it clung to their hair and clothes, weighing them down with a damp chill.

“It’s alright,” Reigen muttered, tightening his grip when Mob nearly stumbled. “We’ll get there, don’t worry.” 

Mob leaned into him a bit more, exhausted; his breath came out as ragged puffs in the freezing air. He shivered even harder, and his boots dragged faint trails through the snow, but he kept moving, trusting Reigen to guide him. 

The woods felt like they stretched on endlessly around them, and every shadow or creak of a branch kept Reigen’s nerves on edge. Still, he forced himself to stay calm for the kid, and after a short time, the faint outline of the farmhouse finally came into view as they reached the edge of the woods. “Almost there, Mob. Just a little further.” 

------

The farmhouse was dark and quiet when they returned. Reigen got Mob settled on the floor near the irori, quickly throwing a blanket over the boy. Even with the thick fabric around him, Mob still trembled. The snow clinging to his hair began to melt, leaving it in thick, wet clumps. His face was pale in the faint flickering glow of the small fire Reigen had coaxed to life. 

"I'm sorry, kid," Reigen muttered as he sat back, holding his frozen hands toward the tiny flames. "We can't make it any bigger than this. Too much light can draw attention, and there might be more out there." 

Mob said nothing in response, giving only a small nod. He pulled the blanket tighter around himself and hunched his shoulders almost to his ears. Reigen frowned deeply. 

"You'll warm up soon," he said quietly. "Just give it a little time. Then you need to get some rest, okay?" 

Mob still didn't answer. His lips pressed into a thin line, and his brow creased slightly as the flames reflected in his dark eyes. He looked restless, like something inside him wouldn't let him settle. His gaze dropped, his damp hair falling forward, covering his eyes. 

He let out a shuddering breath before the words finally slipped out in a rough whisper. "I can't do anything..." 

Reigen glanced at the boy, blinking in confusion. "What're you talking about?" 

Mob's hands clenched around the blanket, his knuckles whitening. "I can't fight. I can't protect myself. I can't protect you. I..." His voice cracked, and he dragged the blanket higher, as if trying to hide. "I feel so useless..." 

"Hey," Reigen started quickly, leaning forward. "You’re not useless. You–" 

But Mob kept going, his voice slightly louder now, trembling but fierce. "Yes, I am! I always have been. I couldn't even protect my family when it mattered most. I was too scared and I-I couldn't do anything!"

Reigen's heart ached so uncomfortably that it felt like it was being ripped out. He opened his mouth, then shut it, completely unsure of how to reach the kid. 

Mob’s voice cracked again as he continued, refusing to even look in Reigen’s direction. “That day… I-If I hadn’t left Ritsu, maybe he’d…” His voice dropped to almost a whisper. “I wasn’t there. I should have stayed, I should have protected him…”

Ritsu… That must have been Mob’s brother, Reigen thought. The guilt in his voice made the pieces click together. That’s why Mob was so hesitant to leave when Reigen told him to run. Why he stood his ground instead, even when weak. He was terrified of leaving someone behind again. "Mob... You were just a little kid then. None of that was your fault." 

"Yes, it was..." Mob's eyes finally flicked to him, burning with tears and guilt. "Everything is my fault. All of it. Everything is always my fault..." 

The words hung heavy between them, heavier than the snowstorm outside. Reigen's throat had gone dry as he tried to force himself to speak up once again. He wanted to tell Mob that it wasn't true, to argue until the boy believed him. But he just stared at the exhausted and trembling child in front of him, unable to find the right words. "Kid..." He tried, but the rest never came. 

Mob said nothing else either. His jaw clenched, and he dropped his gaze back to the fire before squeezing his eyes shut. His chest rose and fell unevenly as he tried desperately to reel himself back in, forcing the storm of emotions back down where no one would see it. He curled in on himself tightly, and they sat in silence the rest of the evening. The only sound to be heard was the crackling fire and the howling wind outside. 

Eventually, Mob fell asleep. 

------

Reigen groaned as the tiniest hint of sunlight hit him right in the face. He threw his arm over his eyes and inhaled a lungful of frigid air that stung his chest. He should probably get up, but damn, he didn’t want to move. Dimple was absolutely right; this trip was already taking its toll on him. He’d love to just sleep in for once, but he knew he and Mob needed to keep moving. So, that meant it was time to drag himself up and wake the kid up, too. 

He yawned and managed to push himself up, every muscle protesting the effort. Even sitting up felt like such a hassle. He then stretched his arms before sighing deeply. “Alright, kiddo, time to get up,” he grumbled tiredly. “We gotta get moving.” 

But when he glanced over to where the kid had curled up the night before, the spot was completely empty. He immediately shot to his feet and scanned the rest of the room. “Mob?” He called, only to receive silence. 

A spike of panic cut through his grogginess. He snatched their things quickly and shoved them haphazardly into his bag before bolting for the door. He jammed his boots on as he went, muttering under his breath. “Damnit. Why the fuck does this kid keep disappearing?” 

He slung his bag over his shoulders and stumbled outside, squinting against the glare. The fields were now completely white, covered in a thick blanket of snow. The morning sun glinted off it brightly, nearly blinding him as he looked around for the boy. 

A distant thudding sound carried across the open area, and Reigen’s head quickly snapped toward it. Out by the narrow road, he spotted the boy’s silhouette against the endless white. The relief he felt was quickly followed by irritation as he set off across the snow, marching toward the boy. The thudding sound continued, and as he got closer, he realized what Mob was doing. 

Mob was pulling arrows from his bag and shooting them into the scattered fence posts lining the road. They looked like they once held wire, but it had been long since torn down, leaving empty wooden posts, some leaning in odd directions. Now, thanks to Mob, they were riddled with fresh holes. As the boy destroyed one post, filling it with arrows, he would retrieve them and then move on to the next.  

His aim was good… Way better than the other day. Each arrow stuck in the target cleanly, with near-perfect precision. Once he shot one arrow, he quickly reached for another, took aim, and fired. 

Reigen slowed as he drew closer, watching the boy for a moment. Mob seemed hyper-focused, but there was something in the way he moved, like his mind was somewhere else entirely. Reigen wasn’t sure if the boy had noticed his approach or if he was just pretending not to. His eyes traveled to the battered fence posts, all covered in holes, with the wood split and cracked. There had to be at least fifteen, maybe twenty. 

“Mob…” he finally said. “How long have you been out here?” 

Mob let his last arrow fly. It zipped through the air before striking dead-center near the top of his target. “A few hours, I think,” he answered quietly. He let out a soft, uneven breath and lowered his bow. That’s when Reigen caught sight of the boy’s hands. His fingers were raw, red, and nearly bloody from drawing the bow string over and over. 

Reigen bit his lip, hesitating for a moment before reaching out and gently placing a hand on Mob’s shoulder. “We need to get going, okay? Grab your arrows.” 

Mob froze for a second, then gave the faintest nod. He silently tugged each arrow free from the post and slipped them back into his pouch with his eyes downcast. 

When he returned, Reigen quickly, but gently, grabbed his hand, pulling it up to inspect the damage on his fingers. “Kid… you need to wear your gloves. It’s too cold out here.” 

“I’m sorry…” Mob mumbled. 

“It’s alright, Mob,” he said, glancing up at the boy’s pale face. “Did you sleep okay?” 

Mob only shrugged, but Reigen could tell the kid still looked exhausted. He finally let go of the kid and took a step back. “Alright, let’s get moving, but take it slow, okay?”

Mob gave another tiny nod, his gaze still fixed on the ground. 

Reigen adjusted his bag as he glanced out at the endless white horizon. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s go.”

Together, they started down the road, leaving a trail of footprints in their wake.