#did teru have to tell them. or do they just remain confused forever.

[waitineedaname]

do the Awakening Lab kids ever learn that Ritsu's name is not Shigeo

[fireflysummers]

Mob Psycho 100 Fanfiction

Text to Speech Translation Error

Direct sequel to "And Maybe...Some Things Are That Simple"

After half a decade away from Seasoning City, Teru has a lot of catching up to do. Unfortunately, some people are less than welcoming. Turns out, there's a reason why.

Part of The World Keeps Turning series

When they meet again, it’s at Spirits and Such. The smell of stale cigarette smoke and incense that assaults him the minute the door opens brings with it such an intense nostalgia that it stops Teru in his tracks. It’s a feeling he’s never experienced before, but it brings with it a tide of memories of a lonely young boy, looking for anything to fill the emptiness of an afternoon, weekend, summer. Memories of being wanted. Memories of being safe.

Teru doesn’t realize that there are tears pricking at his eyes until he sees Reigen, clicking away on his laptop, as if he’d never once moved in all the years he’d been gone.

“Oh, hello Mob,” Reigen says, looking up as the door chime announces their arrival, “This is unexpected. Who’s your friend?”

Teru swears he feels his heart drop into his shoes, but the moment is short. The old con artist squints at him from behind a pair of square-rimmed glasses sitting on his nose, and Teru can visibly see the question shift into recognition. Warm relief spreads through him as Reigen pulls himself up, still squinting incredulously over the edge of his glasses.

“Hanazawa?” he asks, as Teru crosses the distance of the small room to greet his old father figure mentor, “What the hell did you do to your ears?  How many holes did you poke in them to get all those earrings in there?”

Teru can’t help but chuckle, clasping Reigen’s hand. Then, succumbing to instinct, Teru pulls the older man into a tight hug.

“Careful, careful now you youngster! You’re gonna break these old bones!” Reigen splutters, but leans into the contact, returning with a hug just as tight. Teru never quite reached Reigen’s height, but for once can’t bring himself to care. He instead revels in the smell of smoke and stale sweat, the feeling of hair tickling his face, the feeling of being safe.

“Welcome home, my boy,” Reigen says, after they break apart, “You planning on staying long?”

Teru swipes at his face with the palm of his hand, grinning despite the clear evidence of moisture on his cheeks. “Forever, Master Reigen. If I can.”

Behind them, he swears he can feel Kageyama smilling.

 The next time is in response to an open invitation from Kageyama, who offered to tour Teru around his office.  He jumps at the chance to tour around the halls of his alma mater, Paprika University, and make a few calls to former professors before going on to meet Kageyama at the designated rendezvous.

It’s incredible, he realizes, how little the halls mean to him. They had been just another stepping stone on this cyclical path of his, with no great affinity for any one location or person. Compared to his feelings upon returning to Spirits and Such, the entire campus feels…hollow.

Except not so much, because now it’s more than just a place he once attended. Now it’s Kageyama’s place, and he wonders if he would feel the other’s aura seeping into the brickwork, should he focus.

“Hey, Haystack!”

Teru startles, and turns to see a dark haired woman approaching him at breakneck pace. For a moment he struggles to place her, but there are a limited number of people who knew him from the haystack days, and even fewer who would dare ever mention it.

“Ah, hello there Kurata-san,” he says, trying to smile pleasantly as the woman bears down on him with the full weight of her personality.  She’s glowering at him, looking ready to spit nails.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?” she demands, but before Teru can open his mouth she continues, “And that’s Professor Kurata, to you, you no good air-headed bimbo.”

It takes Teru about a second and a half longer than it should have to recover from the verbal assault. Kurata continues to glare, and this combined with the fact that she has the gall to be taller than him by a couple centimeters, actually irks him. Despite this, Teru does his best to give a good-natured chuckle and grin up at her.

“I didn’t realize that the grounds of my alma mater were off-limits to me,” he says, giving one of his most blinding smiles. It, of course, fails to phase Kurata in the least bit.

“You know as well as I do that that’s not what I’m—”

“Hello Tome-chan.” Neither of them had heard Kageyama approach, and yet there he stands, looking entirely nonplussed at the way his two friends glare at each other.

“Oi, Mob,” Kurata says, placing a hand on Teru’s shoulder in what could have been a friendly gesture. “I just found this lost child wandering about and wanted to know if you needed me to escort him to his next class. Or like. Off the campus. Or to another planet. We have a mutual telepath friend with a record of alien contact, so I could get that arranged.”

Kageyama gives her a fond, albeit strained smile. “That won’t be necessary. Thank you though.”

“You’re sure about that?” Kurata prods, the grip on Teru’s shoulder tightening.

“Yes. Don’t worry, he’s my guest.”

The pair share a tense moment that leaves Teru drowning in the lack of context. Eventually, though, Kurata gives out a heavy sigh, shoulders slumping.

“’Kay, if you say so,” she mutters, releasing her grip on Teru, and patting him on the shoulder twice in a conciliatory manner. “But if you need anything, just holler.”

With that, she stomps off in search of her next victim, or so Teru assumes. At this point in his life, he has fought off all manner of evil spirits and megalomaniacal espers, but he can’t quite recall ever being that terrified.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks, when he’s sure that she’s out of earshot.

“Oh, no, I don’t think so,” Kageyama replies, crow’s feet appearing between his eyebrows as he frowns slightly. “At least. Not anymore. We worked it out.”

Teru hums noncommittally in response, keenly aware that he’s missing a lot of context here. That said, he really isn’t in a place to demand to be filled in. After all, it seems that the good Professor Kurata has been looking out for Kageyama, while he’s been off doing whatever it is he’s been doing.  Still. The entire thing has left him off-kilter.

“Hanazawa-kun.” Kageyama interrupts his thoughts. “I have a little while before my next meeting, so I’d be happy to show you my lab now.”

Kageyama’s face is…precious. Teru can’t think of any other way to describe it, even as he feels his heart leap into his throat. There’s trepidation there, excitement and anxiety swirling just under the other’s calm façade.  It’s the kind of expression, Teru knows, that his old friend only wore when he was making himself especially vulnerable—sharing a piece of himself that was both precious and private.

The confusion that he’d felt towards Kurata fades away, leaving Teru only with a slight pang of jealousy. She has, after all, gotten to see this side of Kageyama for years.

But again, he doesn’t have anybody to blame but himself. He just hopes she knows how lucky she is.

 This time, Teru finds himself seated at the table in the kitchen of the Kageyama family home. Both brothers had lived away for some time, Kageyama had explained, but after establishing himself at the local university the parents had asked him to move back in. At the moment, they were off traveling, happy to know that their house was being cared for by their eldest son.

“It’s a bit lonely,” Kageyama concludes, “Which is why I’m glad that you and Ritsu were able to join me for dinner.”

“We don’t see each other enough, brother,” Ritsu replies, sincerely as far as Teru can tell. They’re seated across from each other, around the worn wooden table.

“It’s your home too, you know,” Kageyama chides. He’s in the kitchen, finishing whatever meal he’s worked to prepare for them. His request that guests remain seated is being honored, but not without a great deal of tension crackling between the two.  If Kageyama notices, he doesn’t mention it.

“So,” Teru says, grabbing hopelessly at conversation topics. He’d thought he and Ritsu had made their peace years ago, but clearly he’s done something to mess that up again. Despite his best efforts though, he can’t figure out exactly why the other man continues to glare at him whenever Kageyama’s turned back to cooking.

It’s disconcerting. But on the other hand, it’s kind of nice to see that the younger brother hasn’t changed all that much.  Sure, he’s taller (even moreso than his brother, which definitely makes Teru the shortest of the squad), has changed his haircut into something short and prickly, and has quite a few more worry lines, but he’s definitely the same middle school student that had challenged him in the street all those years ago.

Still. They make it to the actual dinner part without lighting anything on fire. That’s definitely a win.

However, the moment that Kageyama has finished setting the table with the variety of food that he’s prepared, a cell phone goes off. It’s an old meme song, high pitched and obnoxious, and Ritsu goes for his pocket with a sigh.  Kageyama doesn’t seem bothered at all that their dinner had been interrupted, waiting patiently as Ritsu grumbles into the phone.

(Seriously dude? I’m chilling with my brother today, I told you that. What do you mean an emergency, what the hell did you do? Okay, okay, just…try not to bleed out until I get there.)

By the time Ritsu is standing, heading for the door, Kageyama has already beat him there, offering his younger brother two portions of dinner to take with him.

“For little brother Shou, when you rescue him,” Kageyama says, words barely loud enough for Teru to hear. “Be safe, Ritsu.”

And then the younger brother is gone, vanishing out the door with his spiky aura flaring behind him.

And Teru is alone with Kageyama.

They sit quietly to eat, silence punctuated by the clack of chopsticks as Teru contemplates what to say next. When he’s absolutely certain that Kageyama is not trying to formulate words of his own, and that he won’t interrupt, Teru clears his throat.

“So…little brother’s job at the bank seems to have gotten more dangerous than I’d have thought.”

Kageyama cracks a worried smile. “Ah well. He hasn’t worked there for three years now. He’s running his own business.”

“Seriously?” Teru asks, flabbergasted. Business running is his shtick, after all. “With a sour disposition like his?”

“It’s not really his business,” Kageyama informs him with a chuckle, “It’s Suzuki’s. Ritsu just signed on as a partner.” He chews his food slowly. “Oh, ah. They’re consultants. For the government.”

Well. That is a bit more interesting than Teru had imagined. And it makes that phone call less mysterious but significantly more worrying.

He decides instead to change the topic.

“You’ve gotten better,” Teru muses. “At explaining things.”

“It’s a work in progress.” His friend is still frowning down at his food. “But you learn a lot, from being a teacher. I’m still not particularly good at it. If I was better, then I suppose you’d be having an easier time right now.”

“An easier time?” Teru asks, the words coming slowly as though he’s tiptoeing on thin ice.

“Mmhmm.” Kageyama finally looks up at him, brows drawn into an anxious frown. “I suppose I have to apologize for that. For the way that others are treating you, since you got back.”

“You mean that wasn’t just my charming personality?”

“No, although it is very charming,” Kageyama continues, “They just don’t believe me, when I tried to explain that you didn’t understand my confession to you, a couple months ago.”

It takes Teru three beats to realize he’s stopped breathing.

 (If anybody were to ask Hanazawa Teruki if he was in love with Kageyama Shigeo, he would tell them the truth: Of course.

But the fact was that nobody asked him. Sure, lots of people knew, given how much he failed in subtlety, but nobody asked. And so, Teru was content never to say a word.

It was too much of a risk, ruining the relationship they had over feelings that he was certain would never be returned.)

“What?” Teru manages to stammer. They’ve been sitting there, in awkward silence. The spoon in Kageyama’s hand is curling rapidly, twisting and untwisting while its owner looks away, ears tipped with pink.

(He’s rewinding now, rewinding to the text messages that he’d left unanswered for three solid months: Are you coming home after? I’ve missed you.)

“I know,” he says at length, still not looking at Teru, “It was a mistake, on my part. I’ve gotten better at communicating, but ah…well. I made a mess of things on my end. I misinterpreted your silence for a rejection, which was why I was so glad when you wanted to meet again.”

(A confession. That had been a confession. And Teru had left him hanging for literal months, thinking that he had been cut off.)

“I don’t…ahm. I don’t know if you would be interested, and if you’re not, then please disregard all this, but I thought it would be best if…” Kageyama swallows visibly, “Hanazawa, I really, really like you. Would you…would you go out with me?”

He’s left no room for the confession to be mistaken for anything else, Teru realizes as his brain finally catches up to the moment. And then that traitorous part of his mind follows it up with, he sounds like a high schooler.

Looks like one too. The nervous earnestness in Kageyama’s face, the way he clutches both hands together in front of him—for all that he’s grown in the past years, he’s still Kageyama.

The realization crashes down on Teru with a flood of relief.

“Kageyama-kun…” Teru says, then stops himself, “Shigeo. I…I’m…”

There are so many words bubbling to the surface right now, in the slurry of emotions that he hadn’t expected. And yet, in all the pomp and glitter that he uses to disguise his true persona, Teru manages to pull on the single truth he knows better than anything.

“I’m sorry.” The words form in a croaked whisper and hang in the kitchen. “I’m not good enough for you.”

He curls in on himself, arms wrapped tight around his middle, fighting off the feeling that he wants to be violently ill. The entire world feels like it’s swaying, turning on an axis and leaving him to try to find the middle ground. But there’s no battle strategy for this, the one outcome he never dared imagine. All there is, is honesty, because Shigeo deserves that much.

“Me too,” he manages to say, eyes screwed tight and blood pounding in his ears, “I fell in love with you…I don’t know. Forever ago? You changed my life. And I can’t…I can’t repay that. I don’t deserve anything else from you.”

There are hands on his face, gentle, so gentle, guiding it. Teru doesn’t dare open his eyes, terrified for what he’ll see. Terrified at the thought that Shigeo can see him—all his selfishness, ever ugly secret he’s ever tried to hide, ever appetite he’s ever tried to curb, and all the failures he’s experienced in the process. Terrified that once he’s seen for what he is, Shigeo will leave.

“It’s okay,” he hears Shigeo murmur, “I don’t think I’m that good either.  Do you think…do you think that perhaps we can try, though?”

Teru opens his eyes, and is greeted by Shigeo, crouching beside him, eyes so soft, so gentle…so hopeful.

And suddenly, Teru knows without a shadow of the a doubt, that Shigeo has always seen him. From their very first encounter, he has always seen Teru, and never recoiled in disgust. And he sees him now.

It’s more terrifying, Teru realizes belatedly, to be seen for who he really is, and be loved.

He knows what to do with rejection. This, however, is totally new.

Frighteningly new, and…exciting. Hopeful.

“Yes,” he croaks, “I would very much like that, Shigeo.”