Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“And you know,” Reigen is saying, “we’re going to have to repair this city.”

He sees the blood drain from Shigeo Kageyama’s face.

“But don’t you worry,” he hurriedly continues. “I’m sure everyone will help out.” Reigen feels like he’s running on a tightrope—if he stops, he’ll lose his balance. So he keeps going, all the while noticing Mob’s stuttering steps, and the way his eyes are trained on the broken ground before them. Reigen ignores the sharp pain in his injured feet with each step.

“I’ll call Serizawa too.” A beat. “Hey, Serizawa? Yeah, I’m totally fine, no worries. More importantly, could you come over here?” Reigen sneaks another glance at Mob whose tears are drying on his cheeks. A dazed look frosts his eyes. “Yeah, on the path to the park.” The path meaning the ruinous trail Mob created.

They hang up and Reigen turns his attention back to Mob who’s gone silent the past couple minutes. Sirens and helicopters can be heard, and Reigen can only imagine the thoughts going on in that boy’s head. On his other side, Dimple follows as a pale green blob. Reigen turns to him and whispers low enough that Mob can’t catch it.

“Hey, Dimple, why don’t you scope the area. See if you can find Mob’s family or other espers.” Alive and safe, preferably.

Dimple grumbles. “Oh, sure. I come back to life and you just order me around like no time has passed. No, ‘Hey, Dimple! I missed you! I’m so glad you’re alive!’ or whatever…” His voice fades as he leaves.

Reigen slings an arm around his apprentice’s shoulder (he doesn’t want to think about him being anything else). “Man, I’m starving. What do you say we get some takoyaki tonight, hm? I feel like we’ve had nothing but ramen the past few—”

“Shishou.” 

Mob stops walking, and Reigen follows in suit, stumbling to a stop. He clenches his jaw to hide the wince. Is Mob going to address Reigen’s confession now? Even though he had the fears for years concerning Mob finally confronting him about his lies, he realizes for the first time that he isn’t afraid. Well, maybe he’s a little nervous. But no matter Mob’s decision, it will be okay. 

But Mob begins again with, “Shishou…” and Reigen smiles softly at the setting sun. “I feel…light.”

“Heh,” Reigen swallows a laugh and reaches out to put his arm back around his shoulder. “Me too, Mob. I—”

Mob’s shoulder disappears. Fortunately for him, Reigen has a special move called Second Wind, and, despite his exhaustion, he snatches the boy out of the air as he drops lifelessly, taking Reigen with him.

They both hit the dirt unceremoniously, Reigen’s butt taking the brunt of it as he pulls an unconscious Mob into his arms. The toll of too much psychic power, experience provides his mind with. That Mob’s weight of all people is enough to take someone like Reigen down only proves that both of them have reached their limit, and Reigen doesn’t think he can even stand now. Let alone with the dead weight of a teenager in his arms. He lets his head drop to get a look at Mob. 

“Oi, Mob?” Reigen’s voice breaks as he pulls Mob closer. The kid’s head lolls to the inside of his elbow with the movement. Dried tears still streak his face; dirt smudges his cheeks and his hair is unkempt. Reigen mentally kicks himself. Sure, he doesn’t understand all the psychic stuff at times, but this is Mob. How did he not know what was going on with Mob? Why did things have to get this far?

Reigen pats some of the dust off his apprentice’s gakuran. “It’s okay, Mob,” he says. His voice trembles, but he summons up the energy that he can to fake some confidence. “You did good today. Take a rest.” Things shouldn’t have gotten to this point. Mob shouldn’t have had to deal with this all alone. He shouldn’t…

He shouldn’t be crying. He—himself. Reigen presses his left hand that isn’t supporting Mob’s head into his own eyes, as if that will push the tears back in. Despite the movement, Mob doesn’t so much as twitch. 

So he hugs Mob closer to him and lets the tears fall.

And that’s how Serizawa finds them.

00000

“Reigen, when you told me you were fine, this isn’t what I pictured.”

“Ow!”

“Sorry.”

It doesn’t take long to make it back to Spirit’s and Such. Serizawa was considerate enough to not question the tears on his boss’s face and wise enough to carry Mob back despite Reigen’s protestations. Even so, Reigen’s feet and…well everywhere, are a mess.

“Do you think he’s okay?” Reigen keeps looking over to Mob who lies flat on the couch. He hasn’t moved once, and Reigen frequently glances over to make sure he is at least still breathing. His face is pale. Well, paler.

Serizawa sighs, his eyes trained on Reigen’s feet which are propped up on the coffee table over a bunch of old towels. Scratch that— his eyes would be trained if they didn’t keep blinking and fluttering about. Serizawa dabs the sweat on his head with one of the towels (which were supposed to be for the blood and rocks and glass in Reigen’s feet) before setting down the tweezers.

He reaches for the disinfectant before finally answering. “If I’ve learned anything from what you’ve told me, it’s that Kageyama is doing better now than maybe he ever has.” Serizawa pauses, his hand on the lid of the bottle. He looks up at Reigen. “I think you are too.”

The sentiment startles Reigen enough that he doesn’t react immediately. Before he can, Serizawa pours the disinfectant over his feet and Reigen yelps.

“I need to walk on those again one day, you know!”

“Then why did you take your shoes off?” Serizawa shoots back.

Reigen is once more stunned into silence, but it isn’t the good kind. His face burns, and he turns away from his employee. He doesn’t have to say anything. The answer is there.

And Serizawa doesn’t make him. “Honestly, you should just get all this taken care of at the hospital. I think half the kids are there too.”

That gets Reigen’s attention. “Is everyone okay?”

Serizawa shakes his head. “I’m not sure. I was trying to find help from other espers when you went in to save Kageyama, but just about everyone I was hearing from says they were being treated. Hopefully Dimple can find out more.” He pushes gauze against Reigen’s feet. “It sounds like Teruki is in pretty bad shape.”

That churns all the warm feelings in Reigen’s heart. He eyes Mob again, whose small chest slowly rises up and down. How is an emotionally intact Mob going to handle all of this?

“I need to call Ritsu. Now.”

“I told you that like ten minutes ago.”

“Shut up.”

“Sorry.”

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It isn’t until Ritsu’s phone rings that he realizes Teru snuck it again.

“No mirrors!” he spits, and snatches it easily from the bedridden esper who groans in exasperation. 

What a surprise it was when Ritsu first woke up in the ER to see Teru in a bed right next to him. The other boy grinned at him in a drugged haze while Ritsu quickly sat up and looked around at the frantic bustling of the hospital. It was then that he knew two things. 1) He hadn’t died. 2) Shigeo still hadn’t been stopped. That was over an hour ago.

It’s the nurse’s turn for exasperation, bringing Ritsu quickly to the present. She swats his hands gently as he moves, interfering with the shot she has ready in her hand. It is this very thing which kept him from leaving the hospital immediately after he’d awoken, much to his frustration. Well, that, and the minor concussion. After finding that Teru was a mess but nothing critical, he’d gotten up to go see what he could find about his brother, but ended up finding Shou and his dad who were getting treated but also thankfully okay. Before he could do anything else, though, he got dizzy and threw up, so a nurse shuffled him back to a bed by Teru where he watched the news in horror at the devastation his brother created.

And Ritsu couldn’t help him because he had to wait for a tetanus shot.

The nurse gives him a pointed look at that moment which he misses as his eyes fall to his ringing phone. Reigen is calling. His hands tremble. “Mind if I take this?” Ritsu asks with an apologetic smile. “It’s my dad.” As if.

Behind him, Teru snorts.

The nurse is already wiping Ritsu’s arm down with alcohol. “Go ahead,” she says.

Ritsu answers quickly with his free hand. “Is Brother—? Did you—?”

“He’s okay, Ritsu.”

Ritsu’s eyes burn. The needle goes in.

“Where….Can I talk to him?”

“He’s…asleep right now. But I’m sure he’ll be up soon. We’re at the office. Are you okay?

The nurse finishes slapping the bandaid on his arm and mouths that he is good to go. Ritsu glances over at Teru whose eyes are wide with questions, his entire body slathered in bandages. The result of his brother’s pent-up feelings. With a single nod from Ritsu, Teru instantly smiles and relaxes back into the pillows. 

“I’m fine. On my way.”

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When Shigeo normally wakes up from sleep, it is slow and sluggish. He doesn’t like waking up because sleep is so freeing and comforting. It is warm without worries.

But not this sleep. 

Shigeo does not like this sleep.

Here there are buildings falling, people screaming, cars crashing, and him. At the center of it all with his hands raised towards Hanazawa’s bloody face—wait, no. It’s Shou’s dad. Now Ritsu. His teammates. The faces keep shifting, all yelling at him to stop—

Shishou.

Shigeo bursts to his senses, hands gripping the top of the couch before he can even see. I have to get out of this place.

His legs haven’t caught on yet, however, and they are tangled in the blanket he didn’t see covering them. Now he’s on the floor, but which way is up, he isn’t sure.

He gets moving forward somehow anyway, and for the first time he is aware that he can’t hear anything. His heartbeat is pounding in his ears like drums. Is he breathing? Or is that one of the too loud sounds he’s hearing?

And then the door opens and it isn’t a dream after all. It’s real.

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Without even realizing it, Reigen dozed off. Ritsu said he was on his way, Serizawa left to go help outside, and all of Reigen’s exhaustion caught up with him as he settled in his armchair. 

Only to wake up what feels like moments later to a loud thump. Startled, he blinks his eyes lazily until another crash reminds him of who it is that resides on the couch. He jumps, and sleep flees from his thoughts.

“Mob?”

The boy had fallen to the floor, seemingly in a panic if his erratic breathing is anything to go by. Reigen tenses, pushing to his feet when Mob doesn’t respond. Instead his student feels the ground around him with his hands like a blind man, eyes wide with an expression Reigen has rarely ever seen on his student’s face: fear.

Clearly something is wrong. No longer inching up slowly, Reigen leaps from the chair in a way that would have been heroic were it not for the pain that lashes out all over his body. While he is struggling to stay on his feet, Mob finally finds his own. The moment Mob’s feet are under him, he stumbles and trips to the door.

Reigen shouts his name again, but, again, no response. What is he thinking? Forgetting the pain in his limbs, Reigen rushes forward, picturing Mob's expression after he was rejected by his crush. Maybe he’s not thinking.

It’s too late. Mob opens the door, and an entirely new kind of fear swells up in Reigen’s chest when Mob doesn’t run. No, Mob didn’t plan on running. Whatever was going through his mind, Mob is now facing the destruction of his own doing. Reigen sees him drop to his knees, and, even though he’s no psychic, he can see Mob’s thoughts like his own.

What have I done?

The door is wide open, revealing smoke and emergency vehicles and collapse. Reigen stumbled to a stop when he saw Mob open the door, but now he hurries forward again, jumping in front of Mob—in front of the view. He slams his knees into the ground, leveling himself with his student.

“Mob!”

If Mob didn’t notice Reigen before, he notices him now as Reigen claps his hands over the boy’s clammy cheeks. His eyes are wide and red with tears and broken blood vessels. Despite his heavy breathing and sweating, he’s cold.

And that’s just what’s on the outside, Reigen knows. This boy destroyed nearly an entire city. Who knows what the repairs will look like, the injuries, the…Reigen swallows. The deaths. 

“Listen to me, Mob,” Reigen starts just as Mob’s eyes begin trailing sideways again towards the wreckage. The kid is hyperventilating. “Listen very carefully now, you hear me?”

And Mob is 14.

Reigen tries not to let his voice shake. If he’s to give Mob the most important truth of his life, he is going to do it right. Because Mob needs the truth.

“It’s not your fault.”

And because Mob is just a kid.

There is a flicker of something in Mob’s eyes, and the water in them spills over his cheeks—over Reigen’s hands which still hold them. The only sounds Mob makes are shuddering, halting breaths.

Reigen blinks back tears himself. “It’s not your fault, okay?” he says again. “It may have been you because those feelings are a part of you, but you weren’t in control. You and I both know that. So don’t let this—” he takes one hand away from Mob’s face to gesture to the mess around them in the city “—that you couldn’t control—don’t let it control you.”

Now the tears are flowing freely from both their faces, neither one looking away from the other. It’s strange. They’d both seen each other cry before over something or other (just a couple hours ago as a matter of fact), but this is different. 

Reigen lets his hands fall from his student’s face to his shoulders, squeezing them in a way that is hopefully reassuring and not like a massage.

“It’s like a natural disaster,” he decides to add after racking his brain some more. “When it’s over, we know it isn’t anyone’s fault. We just sort of…clean up.”

Mob’s trembling lips curve into a smile then, and he sucks in his first full breath. His gaze drifts around Reigen, towards the destruction. For the first time since waking up, Reigen suddenly has the embarrassing panic that maybe Mob wasn’t even worried about any of what he just talked about. It isn’t like he asked, after all. 

“I’ll have to work hard, too,” his apprentice whispers.

The pressure that was building in Reigen’s head without him realizing it dissipates with that single sentence. It will be fine. Everything is fine.

He gets to his feet slowly, minding his sore body. He reaches his hand out to Mob with a real smile. The boy’s eyes watch his master for only a moment; then he wipes tears and snot away with his filthy gakuran sleeve and stands up shakily by himself. Ignoring the outstretched hand, Mob wraps both of his, gently, around Reigen.

Reigen blinks and more tears leak from his eyes. Will they ever stop falling? He stretches out his open hand awkwardly, pulling it towards Mob’s shoulder where he pats him softly. That’s right, he thinks. He doesn’t want to keep Mob or any one else an arm’s length away. Not anymore. 

From here he can see into the house; the scene of the tipped cup of milk on the coffee table, some scattered magazines, and the blanket trailing towards the door pull his mind back to the worry over Mob’s response upon waking. It seemed like a panic attack.

Reigen softly pulls away from the hug to ask how the kid is feeling. It is then that he notices the blood on his hands. With a quick glance down he sees it on his white shirt as well (yes he changed his clothes from earlier, thank you very much). So why the—

—only to notice Mob stumbling on his feet despite not having moved from his space in the doorway. He’s blinking rapidly, the color in his face coming and going. He teeters backwards and Reigen grabs his arm. 

“Oi!”

Blood paints the side of his head.

Mob must feel it because his hand goes right to it as he crashes back down to his knees, despite Reigen’s support. They both stare at the blood in horror. How did Reigen not notice he was injured? How did he not notice?

“Shishou!” Mob’s head snaps up to look at Reigen. Or at least Reigen thinks he is. The boy’s eyes can’t seem to focus on his face. 

That’s right. Reigen needs to call 119 immediately. Except what is the point? The emergency services have to be at wit’s end during this mess. How is Reigen going to get him to a hospital? It was hard enough getting him here. As his hands flutter over Mob, his eyes leaf over the room for his phone. Then Mob snatches his attention again.

“I didn’t ask!” Mob’s voice is soft, still shaking but insistent.

What?

“I didn’t ask you what happened to everyone. If they’re okay.” Mob grabs Reigen’s forearms sharply, his eyes wide with emotion like Reigen has never imagined on his face. “Are they okay?” His grip is tight on his arms.

Now, Reigen doesn’t know who Mob is talking about. He has ideas, but he doesn’t know all that happened when Mob lost control. Before today, he would have probably just said yes. But now…even in this state…would Mob forgive him again if Reigen lied to him? What if he said yes and Hanazawa is in critical condition or worse? At least he knows Ritsu is—

“Brother!” 

Ritsu.

The grip on his arms slackens as Mob’s attention turns to the new arrival. A drop of sweat rolls into a tear on his face as he whispers, “Thank goodness,” and his eyes slip close.

Chapter Text

This time, Shigeo doesn’t dream as he sleeps.

In fact, it’s perhaps because of this that he feels no desire to wake, even as he begins to sense things in the temporal world. His arms are atop a scratchy blanket. There are strange beeping sounds. And something stuck to his chest that feels uncomfortable. He doesn’t like any of these things, so maybe he can just keep sleeping instead. He does feel awfully tired.

His forehead twitches into a frown. Mob doesn’t like that he feels so tired. Something is wrong. Why is he so tired? 

He peels his eyes half open. The room is white and blue behind the haze of sleep. And somewhat dark. Is it night? Did he fall asleep at school?

His arm collapses under him as he tries to push himself up. A wave of dizziness shakes his vision, and he falls awkwardly back on the pillow—not that he made it up very far. He squeezes his eyes shut and listens to the beeping in the background speed up. Someone needs to turn that sound off.

“It’s about time you woke up, Kid.”

At the sound of the voice, Shigeo shoots up from the bed even swifter than before. Pain strikes the side of his head, but he curls in on himself this time rather than lying back down.

The familiar voice sounds at his side next. “Slow down, there. I’m not disappearing this time.”

Pulling his hand away from his aching head, Shigeo peers up at the green blob. “Welcome back, Dimple.” Tears drip down the sides of his cheeks without warning. “Are you okay?” His mind flashes to the last time he saw Dimple, when they were fighting. He could never remember much of what came next, but he somehow knew that Dimple saved him.

Dimple is still a pale green, but he smiles. “I’ll be okay. We’ve been more worried about you.”

Confused, Shigeo considers what he last remembers that could worry people. Especially Dimple who rarely seems worried. Then it hits him.

She turned me down.

“Shishou!” Shigeo feels his hair begin to stand on end. He can picture Reigen’s battered face and bare feet; his blood goes cold. “Dimple, what happened to Shishou?”

But Dimple doesn’t get a chance to answer. Instead, Shigeo hears a new voice answer, “He’s injured, but he’ll live. Like most people here in Seasoning City.”

Shigeo turns his head to see a man in the process of sliding the door all the way open. Were they really talking that loud? However, a quick look around the room he’s in immediately distracts him from the question. For the first time upon waking, Shigeo looks beyond his bed and notices the medical signs on the walls, the machinery with numbers he doesn’t understand, and the English and Mandarin translations under the Japanese that makes everything feel formal like he’s at an expensive restaurant. 

He would prefer a restaurant to the hospital.

“Calm down, Shigeo,” Dimple says. There’s something in his tone that makes Shigeo listen. “This man is with the government. It won’t do you any good to cause a scene right now.”

Shigeo didn’t realize it until Dimple spoke, but his hair had started floating above his forehead. He feels stiff and cold with panic beating in his chest instead of a heart. 

But Shigeo isn’t thinking about the man or any forthcoming danger. No, he can only see Reigen’s face beaten and bloody in his last memory of a ruined city. That he is alone now with no friends or family but Dimple makes him more anxious. What became of his friends? Did he hurt Ritsu during their fight? His parents?

“I see. So this is all it takes for you to lose control,” the man says.

Maybe this man knows what happened. 

Shigeo peers at the man cautiously. He’s from the government? Shigeo winds his hand around the thin blanket covering his legs. The man is a strong esper, he senses. 

The man turns to Dimple. “This is going to be a private conversation, Spirit. Leave now, before I exorcise you.” He takes slow, deliberate steps forward before setting himself in a hard chair beside Shigeo’s bed. “I won’t hurt him. I promise.” His face reveals nothing. Dimple doesn’t move.

Mob swallows thickly. He is thirsty. “Go ahead, Dimple.” After just getting back, there is no way Dimple is strong enough to fight an esper off.

Dimple shifts his eyes between the two and grumbles, “The second I sense something wrong, you’re done!” With the empty threat delivered, he floats away.

Without a word, the man presses a button on Shigeo’s bed which folds it into a sitting position so he can lean backwards but not have to lie down. Then he offers Shigeo a cup of water which he drinks greedily.

“Thank you,” he says. Now that he’s sitting up and gotten a drink, he’s starting to feel more awake and aware. Still, he can’t stave off the restless energy building inside him.

For the first time, Shigeo notices the age in the man’s eyes. He seems young enough—younger than his parents but older than Reigen—but his eyes have a tiredness to them that is nearly masked by the smart suit and neat hair. The corner of his lips turn up a little.

“Now,” he says, “your family is unharmed. It’s actually your brother who brought you here with some help. Your friends and Shishou are injured, but there is nothing life threatening. So, Kageyama, ” His face turns even more serious, his dead eyes even deader. “Calm. Down.”

Shigeo considers this. If the man is being honest, then everyone is okay. He doesn’t need to worry. He feels his hair lower to his forehead and hears the beeping on the machine slow down. But he doesn’t really feel better. After all, the reason his friends are hurt is because of him.

The man nods anyway. “Good. It’s nice to see you can control your power to some extent. You can call me Gray.”

“Gure*…san?”

Gray shrugs. “It’s not my real name, but it’s fitting for those I deal with. Like you. You’ve strayed off the path a little too much, haven’t you, Kageyama?”

And he doesn’t even know yet. Shigeo still doesn’t know the full extent of the damage he’s done. His hands clench.

The more Shigeo tenses, however, the more Gray seems to soften, and the man releases a sigh. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Reigen’s words flash through his mind again, but Mob settles with, “I confessed to my crush.”

For the first time, Gray seems completely caught off guard. “What?”

“Oh, but then I was walking back home with Shishou. I think I fell asleep at some point.” There’s also a foggy memory of being at Spirit’s and Such, but it feels so much like a dream that Shigeo writes it off.

Gray blinks at him for a moment. It’s a stare that Mob has gotten often from people when he says something strange. Gray quickly shakes off whatever confused him and jumps on Mob’s last words.

“Well that’s a euphemism for the reality of what happened.”

Mob doesn’t know what a euphemism is.

Gray continues. “Do you remember the car accident? After school, you were hit by a car while saving a child. That is the catalyst for your explosion.”

Shigeo also doesn’t know what a catalyst is, but Gray’s words spark his memory. It isn’t much, but he remembers a child and a car.

Gray has his eyebrows raised at Shigeo like he expects something from him, so he tries, “Is that why my head hurts?” He brings a hand up to the side of his head gingerly, feeling tape and bandages. Something else, too, is unfamiliar with his hair….

“That car could have killed you, Kageyama.”

Shigeo’s hand freezes against his head.

“But it didn’t. Do you know why?”

“My powers saved me.” The thought didn’t occur to him until now, but as soon as he says it he knows it’s true.

Gray’s expression doesn’t waver. “On purpose?”

“I...don’t know.”

“Yes you do.”

Shigeo swallows, a nervous energy thrumming under his skin. It’s like he’s being scolded by a teacher. “I remember wanting to go talk to my…friend. It was like watching myself from a distance. There was another me who was angry and hurt, and didn’t want anyone to stop him. He is the one with the power, not me.”

Gray sits back, nodding slowly. “You couldn’t control it. Because you’ve been too busy suppressing it.”

Shigeo barely hears him as he tries to think. “All this time, I’ve thought of my power, my explosions, as another being. One that is scary and hurts people. But the truth is that the scary side of me is still just me. I didn’t want to accept it.”

“Even though that very power has saved your life several times over.”

“I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” he whispers. “I just wanted to be like everyone else.”

“So you avoided facing your power until it burst, and you couldn’t get a lid on it fast enough. You just tucked it away as much as possible—much like your emotions.”

Mob doesn’t have a response to that. He told himself he would accept his power from now on, but it’s easier said than done. Just talking about it makes him feel like ants are crawling up his arms and legs. He wants Gray to just leave already. He focuses on breathing, desperate to keep his power in check.

Either Gray doesn’t notice his discomfort or is just ignoring it, because he forges straight ahead. “The accident could have killed you,” he states bluntly, “but, with your full power, instead you’ve shown potential to heal yourself to some degree. You still needed several stitches, but your power is certainly strong, Kageyama.” The man leans forward in his seat. “In fact, you probably could have completely healed yourself had you kept going. So why did you stop? Why not finish destroying everything?”

Shigeo’s blood runs colder. “I didn’t want to.”

“Sure you did.”

“No. I wanted to stop…but I couldn’t.”

“Because a part of you didn’t want to stop.”

His head falls, and he fidgets with his fingers. “You’re right. I was upset. And afraid. I’ve pushed away my feelings for so long that I never let myself feel them. So I didn’t understand them when I had to finally face them.” He pulls his eyes back up, red as they are. “My shishou taught me that everyone tries to hide parts of themselves, but that we need to accept them all the same. I didn’t want to accept that I was angry or sad or even happy at times because I was afraid to hurt people. But now I realize that…that hiding my feelings can hurt people too.” Mob wipes his eyes, suddenly overwhelmed. If hiding feelings can hurt people and showing them can hurt people, then what is he supposed to do?

A hand touches his knee. “Good,” Gray says.

Shigeo frowns.

“I know you’re worried about losing control again, and, frankly, we are too. But I’ll be honest, Kageyama, we deal with espers losing control more than you realize.” The man’s eyes are soft. “We much prefer helping those who have strayed a little than those who are fighting for evil. The balance of hiding and showing your feelings may seem difficult at first since you’ve mostly been on one end or the other, but, with practice, you will find that balance.” He stops. “You seem confused.”

He is. “If the government is involved with espers who can’t control their powers, then what about the times I’ve lost control of mine?”

“We’ve kept an eye on you, but you’ve been in good hands. Which I’m sure you know already.”

Shigeo relaxes his sweating hands and fiddles with the IV in his arm. He nods. “I always wondered if I lost control…if someone would be able to stop me.”

“Yes, if it makes you feel better.” 

It does.

“So there are psychics stronger than me?”

Gray sighs. “Kageyama, you of all people should know that power has little to do with the outcome of a fight.”

Mob does know that. His mind turns again to how it was Reigen who saved him, without psychic abilities. Shigeo spent the last several years of his life withholding his emotions from the surface, afraid of them spilling over and wreaking havoc. And yet it’s the confrontation of it all which brought him back to himself again. 

“Kageyama, are you your hand?”

Mob blinks. He looks at his hands. Then at Gray. “What?”

“You heard me right. Your hand. Is it you? Are you your hand?”

Mob doesn’t know what he is talking about again. It reminds him of Reigen and how he also talks about things Mob doesn’t understand. At the same time, though, both men speak in a way that makes him think he should listen.

“No,” he answers thoughtfully. “My hand is attached to me, but it isn’t me.”

Gray smiles. “That’s right. Does your hand ever do things you don’t want it to do?”

Mob considers this. “Sometimes when I’m falling asleep, my fingers twitch….”

A stare.

“But no,” Mob finishes hurriedly. “My hand does what I want it to.” He flexes it experimentally; a memory of this same hand bringing destruction with his powers flashes through his mind, and he flinches, his hand stuttering into a fist. But then thinks of that other part of himself; he’s not going to run away from those feelings anymore.

He can’t see Gray through his bangs when he continues. “What does this have to do with my powers?”

“Everything.”

Two hands come down on his own shaking ones, stilling them. Shigeo draws his head upwards. 

“I’m going to tell you something you already know, and then I’m going to tell you something you don’t understand,” Gray says. “Are you ready?” Shigeo nods, averting his eyes.

“You’re dangerous.”

Shigeo’s body goes rigid, his fists turning into fists of battle under Gray’s hands. Against his will, an onslaught of memories from his attack on his friends floods his vision. Their cries echo in his ears like they are in the room with him. 

When his vision clears enough, he finds he is pulling his hands up jaggedly towards his ears like he can stop the sound. Gray holds them down firmly. His hands are rough and big and warm; and Shigeo remembers where he is again.

“I…know,” he huffed out. His lungs feel tired like he’s been running with the Body Improvement Club.

“Good. I assumed you would. Your power is strong but your mind is weak. That’s what makes you dangerous.” He squeezes Shigeo’s hands. “Right now you are fighting the fears you’ve been suppressing. You’re doing well, Kageyama. Are you with me? Breathe.”

Shigeo closes his eyes and tries to breathe in and out normally. Reigen always talks about the importance of the body since many clients fear they are being haunted when in fact it’s just illness or stress. 

Something simple like meditation can do wonders, Mob! I can let you borrow this book if you like. Actually, let’s make it a homework assignment!

He is too distracted or sleepy whenever he tries meditating, but at least the breathing exercises help sometimes. His hands slowly unclench as he peers up at Gray who finally removes his hands from Mob’s. He pulls a hand up slowly to wipe the sweat off his face. A smidge of concern dots Gray’s eyes, and Mob suddenly feels embarrassed.

So he quickly nods in affirmation. “I’m okay. Now tell me what I don’t understand.”

Gray’s shoulders lower but he still seems more focused than relaxed. “What you don’t understand is that your powers are just like your hands. Attached to you, a part of you, but ultimately controlled by you.”

Your life is your own.

That’s right. Reigen is always telling him stuff like that. Is he disappointed that it’s actually been Shigeo’s emotions controlling his power all this time? Is Gray disappointed that, even though Shigeo should be in control, he painfully isn’t all the time?

Just go ahead and accept yourself already.

Gray sighs. “You don’t understand though, do you.”

A doctor runs past the room, diverting Shigeo’s attention. He stares past Gray at the door and leans back against the pillow. Though everything seems to be getting lighter in his room with the lights off still, he feels his eyes growing heavy. But he doesn’t think he’ll be sleeping anytime soon.

“I’m not sure about whether I understand everything correctly or not,” he says. “My brother, Ritsu, is the smart one. But I know that, for all the feelings I’ve been holding back, I need to accept them. Reigen Shishou showed me I can control my power that way.”

The abrupt chuckle wakes Mob up a little, his eyes widening to more alertness. He feels a twinge of fear, but then sees a softness in Gray’s eyes and relaxes again. 

“Emotions are powerful things, Kagegama, but don’t think you’ll never have trouble controlling yourself again because of something you want to do.” Despite the smile wrinkles around his eyes, there are other lines in his face as well that are drawn with darkness. Gray claps his hand on Shigeo’s leg softly. “Unlike your shishou, I’m not going to lie to you to make you feel better.”

Mob starts in surprise. 

Gray continues like he doesn’t notice, though Shigeo is starting to feel like maybe he sees more than he lets on. “He is right, though, when he tells you there is hope. You can learn to feel and control your power. But, Kid,” darkness is in his eyes, “even though you’ve decided to accept yourself, this won’t be the last time you make a mistake. You’re going to have to relearn not only how to use your powers, but also how to deal with your emotions. That’s no easy task. I know you don’t want to hear that, but it’s true.”

His hands are blurring in his vision. 

A sigh. “Try…closing your eyes.”

Shigeo does as he is told. He just wants to get this over with so he can see his family and Reigen again. 

“Be patient. Now, feel the energy in the room.”

The energy? Shigeo listens and pushes out his aura to feel around him. Gray’s is bright teal and orange—not at all gray. It is pretty, actually. He didn’t notice before, but it is calming and kind…though with that surrounding darkness Shigeo can’t understand with his eyes. 

“Don’t just accept your feelings. Accept your power. All of it.”

Past Gray, Shigeo feels more auras of espers. Yellow, blue, purple, green—his friends are here! Ritsu and Serizawa and Hanazawa are not so far away after all. Their auras are all different levels of stress, but they aren’t in danger. And what of others? If they are here then—

“Enough looking at espers. Try other living things.”

Other living things. Despite wanting to find his friends, Gray’s words intrigue him. Living things. There are hundreds of people in this hospital. There is fear and panic. Sadness. He frowns. Is there anything good? 

Flowers. In his room there are flowers alive despite being cut from their roots. In fact, it isn’t just the flowers. The whole hospital is thrumming with life. Ants in the sliding door entrance, succulents and the dirt and rocks. And if he reaches even further, then there is more to see outside as well like—

“Okay, that’s enough.”

But Shigeo doesn’t want to stop now. He can sense the sidewalk, the animals, the rushing people, the—

And just like flipping a switch, his power is cut off. But not before he felt it. The pain. It felt like something worse than injuries and sadness. His heart hurts.

He flicks his eyes open. Gray stares back, unreadable. “Outside,” Shigeo says. Something is wrong.” He blinks twice as he realizes he didn’t turn his power off by himself. “Did you do that?” Did you stop me?

“I told you before that if you lose control, someone can stop you.”

A flash of anger bolts through him. You didn’t say that someone is you. 

Why would Gray do that? After telling him to use his power, why would he just cut him off like that? He didn’t do anything wrong!

Shigeo rushes his aura at Gray, ready to—

And then he stops.

Eyes open wide, Shigeo watches as his aura bathes the room in purples and blues like a night sky. He is aware of everything in here, of the life around him.

Including Gray. There’s no ill intent coming from him.

The ghost of a smile nudges the man’s lips. “Well done.”

Mob doesn’t know what to say. Those bad feelings came all at once, and he nearly lashed out at Gray. He’s been so used to repressing such feelings like anger all his life to the point where he now doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do with them.

You’re going to have to relearn not only how to use your powers, but also how to deal with your emotions.

“That’s right, Kageyama,” Gray says. Shigeo startles, wondering if he said something outloud. “There are going to be moments of frustration or sadness that will make you want to act rashly. But if you keep yourself aware of the world around you, it will remind you of who you are. Remember this.”

“You’re not mad at me,” Mob says slowly. It isn’t a question. He can feel it.

Gray’s eyebrows go up, though little emotion sparks. “Mad? No. I wanted to show you something that no one has shown you before. What you felt just now is the energy of the world. Of life. All things have energy, but we have psychic energy. And psychic energy can influence all others.”

Shigeo isn’t sure he understands what Gray is saying, but he can’t deny what he experienced. He felt so much energy all around him, ready to be molded into whatever shape he desired.

“Now, Kageyama-kun, comes the lesson.” Gray cautiously takes Shigeo’s hand. Shigeo can sense mild discomfort from the man’s aura. “You can control this energy as easily as you control your own hands and fingers. But, like you said before, what your power will look like and what it does, all depends on this.” Gray leads Shigeo’s hand up to the young psychic’s heart.

Shigeo looks up at Gray, any leftover traces of anger and frustration finally clearing. “You want to help me.”

Yet again, another sigh as Gray pulls his hands away. “Kageyama, this trick I taught you with your aura…please don’t underestimate my own ability to use it.” His eyes seem to smile a little, and he reaches into his suit jacket to pull out a business card. “I don’t give this to many people. In fact, I can count the number of people who have this number on my fingers. But,” he pauses thoughtfully, “I know you’ve felt alone most of your life. If you need help, I’ll answer.”

Shigeo looks at the card, then back at Gray. He shakes his head. “No,” he says. “I haven’t felt alone. I’ve had a lot of good people to help me. If something ever happens where no one can stop me, then I know you will come.”

Gray stares at him for a moment, searching his face, his energy. Then, he stands up. “Okay.”

Is that it? It’s all over?

Gray makes a move like he was going to leave, so Shigeo spouts the question on his mind. “What is that pain I felt earlier? I didn’t understand it. It felt like…”

Gray freezes mid-step. His eyes wander the floor. For the first time, he doesn’t look at Mob when he speaks. “I told you I’d tell you the truth, and I will. To be honest, we are surprised the critical injuries are as low as they are. Your friends did a good job protecting the city from your power.” He fingers the sunglasses in his coat pocket. “However…there has been one casualty. A woman died while protecting her child.”

So that’s what he felt. Death.

Like static electricity in the air, his hair rises from his skin, his eyes widening. Gray’s lips are moving, but the sound is muted. Of course someone died—how could he be so blind? So thoughtless? He was so focused on himself and his feelings that he didn’t even consider the suffering he caused. In a moment, he is off the bed and at the window, ripping the curtains open. 

The sun hasn’t yet peaked above the mountains, but there is just enough light to see clouds the color of ash blanketing the city. Or at least what is left of it. While Reigen was telling Mob they could fix things, to accept himself, he’d already…destroyed everything.

He isn’t worth it.

There is no build up of emotion this time. No dam he ever built in his mind could stop the flow of anguish. He just bursts at the seams like a live wire. He is being squeezed and burned by some unknown force and it hurts hurts hurts.

He hears the sound of choking and screaming. Is he hurting someone? Again? Why is he like this? Why can’t he stop himself? He...really is the worst.

You’re dangerous.

Gray is right. 

Shigeo pushes himself to his feet (when did he leave the bed? or go to his knees?) and forward. He doesn’t see where he is going—can’t see. There is something wrong with his eyes and everything is blurry and not working. So he reaches out with his aura and moves everything out of his way to find the path he needs to go. Out out out.

Ugh why does it hurt so much? He is on his knees again, holding his head. It hurts but at the same time he can’t feel anything, can’t see anything. He wants to cry. He wants to pass out. He wants to breathe. Is he doing any of these things? Where is he? Is this a dream? It feels like there’s something he needs to remember, a way to deal with these emotions, but he can’t. He can’t.

He is walking again. He doesn’t know when he got up, but he is walking again, and now he feels the smoky wind of the outside hit his face.

Just go ahead and accept yourself already!

I do accept myself! Shigeo screams inside his head, at all the voices and memories inside it. I accept that I’m the worst and I’m dangerous, so let me just do something good!

And unlike how Gray stopped him before, no one stops Shigeo this time. He explodes his power outward around the city, prodding its brokenness and hurt. 

I can fix you, he thinks. 

So he does. 

All at once, he feels pieces of homes build themselves back together. Structures of all kinds heal their crevasses. The torn roads are sewed up. People who were trapped under rubble are freed, along with plants and animals Shigeo senses throughout the city. 

Shigeo doesn’t know how long it takes, but he finally opens his eyes (when did he close them?) to see a large group of people staring not only at him, but at the city around them. Among that group are familiar, distorted faces. 

He takes a stuttering breath. His eyes feel swollen and his face is wet with what he can only assume are tears. He says the only thing he can think to say. “I’m…sorry.” And he promptly passes out.