That last reblog has me now contemplating.
What if to mess with his shiny new little brother, but like....gently....when they first started hanging out Dick told Jason a couple of slight falsehoods as umm. A training exercise. That’s it. It was about helping Jason get up to speed with his information gathering skills and also his bullshit detection. So in the interest of being helpful and A Good Big Brother, Obviously....Dick sowed a few.....less-than-entirely-factual details about the more fantastical elements of their lives. The stuff that isn’t common or public knowledge to most of the DC Earth. And then he just.....waited to see how long it took Jason to realize Dick had fed him a handful of straight up lies when briefing him about All Things Superhero.
Look, it was for Science. That’s Dick’s story and he’s sticking to it.
Thus, for the first couple months of their new sibling relationship, Dick had Jason convinced that Atlanteans were actually aliens who landed here thousands of years ago, speedsters can run so fast they can travel back in time, and Superman once accidentally let out a burp so forceful it created a shockwave that shattered every glass in a quarter mile radius so whenever he starts to look....gassy....your best course of action is to hit the deck. Don’t even hesitate for a second, just dive to the ground and grab some floor until he’s got it back under control. And oh yeah, Diana has her Lasso of Truth, but Donna’s version of truth-related powers is that she can sense when people are up to no good....only, the way this manifests for her is she suddenly registers a distinct bad smell in her vicinity, alerting her that bullshit is afoot.
“You’re kidding,” Jason said flatly. “You expect me to believe that Donna can literally smell bullshit?”
Dick just raised an eyebrow. “Like that’s somehow less plausible than Gar being able to change into any kind of animal but only in shades of green? And oh yeah, speaking of green, Green Lanterns can do just about anything with their rings....except protect themselves from yellow paint? I don’t make the rules, Jace. The truth is sometimes superpowers aren’t super-glamorous and not everything related to magic or gods or other planets is as....sophisticated...as we presume. I mean, its not like these things exist just to match up to our expectations for them. Why should alien civilizations or the rules of magic be influenced by whether or not our society would find something weird or ridiculous?”
Jason chewed his lower lip contemplatively. He lacked an official bullshit detecting power himself, but he did have good instincts. Unfortunately for him, his shiny new big brother gave good Lying-to-your-face Face.
“Plus, if you really think about it, it does make a kind of sense,” Dick continued to explain helpfully. But only according to certain specific interpretations of ‘helpfully’ that actually mean ‘like a liar.’ “Our brains are constantly translating all kinds of input and stimuli into shapes or patterns we can actually process in a way that means something to us. So we can make use of that information. This is just the same thing. Donna’s power takes however many variables are involved in registering something as false or something she needs to be wary of...and just condenses it into a simple ‘red alert’ indicator that takes all that abstract, ephemeral data and makes it something actionable. Something she can actually do something with. Her power - or how her brain perceives it - just didn’t actually consult her or give her a choice of notification settings, because why would it?”
“I guess that makes sense,” Jason begrudgingly agreed, with a frown that suggested this particular ‘truth’ Offended his sensibilities.
“I mean, you can ask Donna to explain it herself if you want,” Dick said with a shrug. “Just a heads-up though....she’s not really a fan of how that power works either. Its not exactly a superpower anyone wants to be known for, and she’s heard allllll the jokes about it by now. Roy, Wally and I were perhaps....not the most sensitive when we were younger and she was honing that particular skillset? Though in our defense, I maintain that most of our jokes were hilarious. But anyway, just saying. If you wanna bring it up with her directly, go right ahead! Its definitely one of her favorite topics and Amazons are for sure known for how well they handle being self-conscious.”
And that’s the story of the three months Jason spent convinced that Atlanteans were from another planet, confusing the hell out of Garth with his occasional references to ‘your homeworld’ and his numerous questions about all the Atlantean Green Lanterns that he for some reason seemed convinced the Green Lantern Corps must obviously have a long history of.
And its also why Jason spent those same three months getting wide-eyed and nervous any time he noticed Donna’s nose so much as twitch when he was around. Which it did a lot more often than usual, thanks to how often Dick got horseradish to go with whatever he was having for lunch, knowing full well that Donna can not stand the smell of horseradish. (Dick’s actually not a fan either, and he hates how it tastes, but he’s not afraid to Suffer for the sake of Shenanigans. Its a fundamental part of the Robin experience and persona, after all.)
But it was the Donna thing that gave Dick away, ultimately. No matter how hard he tried to keep a lid on how entertaining he now found the sight of Donna’s occasional nose twitch...even a Batkid poker face can’t keep an empath and telepath from finding this a mystery worth untangling after the tenth time it happens.
(Not that Lilith or Raven are gonna apologize for prying any time soon. They had an obligation as his friends and teammates to investigate when he’s acting bizarre, y’see. What if its because he was brainwashed again? “We’re intrusive because we love,” Lilith insists with zero shame. Raven clarifies: “I was intrusive because she was already doing it so there seemed no point not to.” Lilith points out that this could also be construed as a sign of strong leadership potential. Dick glowers. Lilith waves a hand dismissively. “We can circle back to that later. That’s fine.”)
Anyway, the truth came out at last, Jason cites this as the Moral Justification for every single time and way he was a pain in the ass to Dick in the years to come, and Donna - who was Not Amused - gave a pointed sniff and called bullshit when Dick tried to claim this was an important Bonding Opportunity for he and Jason, wherein they became brothers ‘for real’ instead of just via Bruce. “There are intricate sibling rituals to be observed,” Dick insisted. “I did my research! We had so much time to make up for, I had to speedrun through my shenanigans to get us all caught up! Would I have done all this if I didn’t care?”
Every Titan in the room, familiar with the lengths he’d gone to when messing with Rogues and randos as Robin and thus distinctly unimpressed: Yes. Absolutely. One hundred percent.
Dick foraged on heroically. “Regardless! That’s not the case here, as all of this was clearly done in the name of brotherhood and bonding! We’ll laugh about this someday, you’ll see!”
Ten years later, after Jason’s returned as the Red Hood and reintegrated with the Batfamily to varying degrees, enough so that he accompanies Dick and the rest of the OG Titans on a mission where they’re ambushed, captured and trapped in a supervillain dungeon they’re now trying to escape...
Dick: Definitely kicking myself for not seeing that ambush coming. Where’s a bullshit-sniffing power when you really need it, huh?
Jason: Still not laughing yet.
Dick: Oh come on!
As far as the rest goes, Jason does get a kick out of the speedsters discovering that actually, they can run fast enough to travel through time. He’s like, despite your best efforts you accidentally got one right. And Dick’s all ‘was it an accident or did I actually know or have strong suspicions all along’....but Jason shuts that down. “Nope. Not giving you this one. Try it with someone else.”
However, that still left one last card in play, long after everyone - even Dick and Jason themselves - had all but forgotten about it.
See, every Batkid knows that the best lies contain elements of truth. And that’s why Dick only peppered in his fake trivia very, very sparingly amidst a massive info-dump of actually accurate and useful info he gave Jason about all that stuff, way back when.
So despite the handful of things Dick had told him that Jason eventually discovered to be untrue...the vast majority of it did check out.
Which means even once he did catch on to Dick’s game....that didn’t change his acceptance of the stuff that had turned out to be true or verified by others. But in the end, there was only one little fib that slipped under the radar. Because the scenario it was based on just never happened to come up until long after Jason had returned....and thus Jason never had reason to put much thought into actually questioning whether or not it was true. Not until long after he’d stopped scrutinizing stuff Dick had told him, in search of possible ‘traps.’
And THAT is the story of how Jason - on one of the rare occasions that he joined the Titans and Justice League for an all-hands-on-deck kinda teamup - just happened to be in the right wrong place at the right wrong time to notice Superman suddenly start to look queasy after trying some alien cuisine....
And without a second thought, Jason just instinctively dove for the floor. With this followed by Clark letting out an extremely normal-sounding burp and a sheepish apology.
Everyone else, staring at the infamous Red Hood ducking for cover because Clark had a moment of indigestion: umm. wut
Dick, staring wide-eyed at his brother and trying not to laugh: Oh shit. I totally forgot all about that.
Jason, almost conversationally, while climbing to his feet and stalking ominously towards his big bro: Hey can you believe that after all the shit we’ve been through and all the times we’ve fought over like...actual life and death stuff, THIS is the thing I’m actually gonna kill you for?
Dick, backing away, hands raised placatingly: Hey, c’mon now, Jace, we called a truce about all this ages ago, remember? It was a much younger, dumber me who did all that in the first place, y’know? You’re better than this!
Jason: I’m really not.
Dick: Well then can I just take this opportunity to mention again how sorry I am for any creative embellishments I might have once come up with, in the mistaken belief that I was honoring important traditions of brotherhood, and....
Jason: Hey, where’s Donna? Can anyone see if her nose is twitching?
Donna and the rest of the Titans, blatantly amused and offering no explanation to the very confused Justice League: Oh, bullshit absolutely detected. In the interests of Truth and Justice, you should totally proceed.
Dick, jabbing his finger at his teammates before dashing for the door: Betrayal! J’accuse!
Donna, shrugging: Sorry, Rob. Justice demands impartiality. Our hands are tied.
Jason, running out the door and down the hallway in pursuit of his fleeing brother: Yeah you better run! I’ve waited ten fucking years to get back at you for this shit. Where you going anyway, bro? I thought you wanted to laugh about this someday!
Dick (offscreen): I regret nothing! It was all worth it! You should have seen your face!
Jason (offscreen): You couldn’t even see my face, idiot! I’m wearing my fucking helmet!
Dick (offscreen): Semantics! If something’s funny enough, you can sense what someone’s face probably looks like! If you know, you know!
Jason (offscreen): Oh yeah, go ahead and make up some more shit, Grayson, that’s definitely the right way to go here!
Batman, looking to the Titans and waving his hand at...whatever all that is offscreen: Explain.
Roy: Hey don’t look at us. You’re the one who made them brothers. This is on you.
Batman: What does that even mean.
Lilith: If you know, you know. Dick’s right about that much at least.
The Titans all nod like an actual, self-evident truth was just expressed. Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose, and starts muttering under his breath.
“You need to encourage Dick to seek out and make like-minded friends, Alfred said. It’ll be good for him, he said. Its what he needs and definitely not the point everything starts to go downhill.”
Lilith picks it up loud and clear, because of course she does, and incidentally, the smug, obnoxious know-it-all teenage psychic who started hanging out with Dick when they were teenagers has absolutely nothing to do with Bruce’s profound dislike of telepaths, nooooo, that would be ridiculous and irrational, to bear a grudge against everyone with a particular skillset because one of your son’s childhood friends was a royal pain in the -
Lilith: Oh, that’s adorable. He thinks we’re the reason Dick’s so profoundly weird and inexplicable.
The Titans, in unison: LOL.
Roy: The self-deluding, it is strong in that family.
Bruce is suddenly extra glad he’s wearing a cowl that hides what is definitely not a pout but might be mistaken for one by the uninformed thus its better to just dodge that issue entirely. He crosses his arms and stares down the collection of his eldest son’s friends, whom he has been unfairly plagued by since most of them were pre-pubescent little demons. Literally no one has suffered like he has.
“I don’t like you,” he informs them officiously. Not sulkily. Officiously.
Several of them snort. There’s a couple giggles. An eye roll from Roy. An aborted response hastily turns into Wally coughing into his hand. Blatant dismissal from Victor, his attention clearly on whatever he’s browsing online. Three varying shades of raised eyebrows: unflappable bemusement from the sorceress, patronizing amusement from the psychic, naked incredulity from Donna. Garth gazing off into an empty corner which he has on very good authority is basically the Atlantean version of the middle finger.
“Yeah, no shit,” Roy drawls, apparently on behalf of the whole group.
Ugh, they’re just. The worst. Why couldn’t Clark have had a kid Dick’s age so he never had to go looking elsewhere for socialization? That’s it. Clearly this was all Clark’s fault. He can’t believe he never realized that before.
Dammit Clark.
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eaten from the core and out to the skin– mp100
Reigen strutted through the halls of Salt Middle School, passing empty classrooms and bustling club rooms at a brisk pace. As he turned an unfamiliar corner, he schooled his worried expression to something closer to irritation. Reigen was on a mission and he couldn't let any weakness show. He came upon the door he was directed to by the woman in the main office.
He entered with a hand on his hip, suit bunching up at the action. Reigen surveyed the small office, eyes catching on the cheesy inspirational posters and self-help books. He wrinkled his nose, ah, a guidance counsellor. Oh god, Mob, what kind of trouble did you get yourself in this time. Speaking of Mob– Reigen spotted his student sitting in the only other chair in the cramped office. His shoulders were brought far up to his ears and his head was hung low. Whatever they called him in for, Mob sure was taking it seriously.
Whatever, Reigen thought confidently, we'll be out of here in no time if I have anything to say about it.
The woman that had called him in sat at a cluttered desk that took up about a third of the small room. She smiled widely, brushing back her black bob behind her ear. Her elbow nudged against one of the many stacks of paper littering her desk.
"Thank you for coming, Mr. Reigen. Please, take a seat." He obliged, crossing his legs and leaning back in his chair. He tapped his foot impatiently.
"Would you mind telling me why I was dragged out of work to be here?" Mob hiked his shoulders higher, curling in on himself. His flat fringe cast a dark shadow over his face, covering his expression. Reigen thought he could see his lip wobble out of the corner of his eye, however.
"Ah- apologies, it was at Shigeo's request. I'm sure he didn't mean to interrupt." Mob asked for me instead of his parents? Reigen narrowed his eyes, lips pursing in thought. Mob never asked Reigen to pick him up from school unless something was really wrong. Last time this happened, Mob was trying not to blow up over the black eye some kid gave him. That day, Reigen had to keep reminding himself that a 26 year old man beating up a 12 year old middle schooler was definitely illegal. Now, seeing the way Mob's face was painfully schooled, like he was just barely holding it together, Reigen felt the same urge to hunt down whoever had done this.
He took a steadying breath, cracking a placating smile, "No, it's alright." Some of Mob's tension dissolved, "But, I do want to know why you called me." He tried, making sure to keep a pleasant tone. The last thing he wanted was to get Mob all worked up about whatever it was he did.
The guidance counsellor smiled, although it was fake just like Reigen's. Just a gesture meant to put the other at ease. She cleared her throat politely, picking up a file from under her elbow and sliding it across the table to Reigen. He leaned forwards, eyes scanning the page.
He landed on a few scribblings in pen that read 'lunch hour', 'truancy', and 'physical altercation' before she interrupted him.
"Shigeo was absent from all of his classes today and was seen by another student loitering in a club room during second period mathematics. As well as-" she picked up the paper, reading with a light hum, "-Ah, here– during lunch hour, Shigeo pushed a classmate, resulting in a dislocated shoulder." She read it off so stiffly, like a judge reading a list of crimes out to a jury. Reigen resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her seriousness. That's what Mob was in here looking like he was on the verge of breaking down for? Skipping class and pushing a kid? Reigen had done much, much worse in his school days– this was practically nothing.
Holding in a scoff, Reigen hummed sympathetically.
The counsellor sighed and put the paperwork down. She levelled Reigen with a tired stare, "As this is the first time I've had to discuss Shigeo's behaviour with a parent or guardian, I'm not going to punish him." Reigen's face softened before he could stop himself and she pounced on the opening, pressing her lips into a thin line. Or maybe this game of social chess was all in Reigen's head and she was just emoting like a normal person. Either way, she continued, "However, due to school policy, I still need to come to an understanding with Shigeo."
Reigen nodded, "Of course," he went on the attack, "I'm sure Mob didn't mean anything by his actions. Sometimes he just gets overwhelmed and-" his good natured smile slipped as Mob joined the conversation.
"I meant to push him. I'm sorry…" He whispered, hands twisting around each other. C'mon, Mob! I'm trying to vouch for you here, just don't say anything and I can get you out of this scot-free! he screamed internally. Unfortunately, Mob never had figured out telepathy, so Reigen's pleas went unheard.
"I skipped my classes too, on purpose." He continued in his soft voice. His warbly confession felt wrong, twisting itself around Reigen's stomach. This was all too serious, why was Mob getting so worked up over nothing?
Reigen swallowed the questions that crawled up his throat in favour of clawing the conversation back to normalcy. He patted Mob's shoulder forcefully, nervous laughter bubbling out of him.
"Such an honest student I have! As you can see, he's much too well behaved for trouble-making. So really, we should just let this whole thing blow over, huh?" Reigen boasted in his salesman voice. Despite directly contrasting Mob's incriminating words, he hoped she would believe him over his student by confidence alone. Judging by her unamused expression, it wasn't working.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Reigen, but multiple students admitted to seeing the fight at lunch. Now, Shigeo," she turned her attention to him. Mob didn't even look up from his lap.
"Why don't you explain to me why you were absent from class?" Reigen crossed his arms, turning to his student as well; he obviously wasn't getting them out of there any time soon. And, he was actually kind of curious about that too. Mob wasn't a perfect student by any measure, but he hated getting scolded and was too polite to break any rules anyways. It was really out of character for Mob to skip a whole day of classes.
Mob didn't react. Reigen couldn't be sure he even heard the counsellor's question at all. The boy sat so still he might have even been holding his breath.
Just as she got ready to try another approach, Mob sucked in a sharp breath, "...I don't know." His voice shuddered. Reigen's mood curdled instantly– Mob was definitely lying to them. There was nothing to lie about in the first place; sure, skipping class was against the rules but it wasn't egregious and it certainly wasn't uncommon. A bead of sweat rolled down Reigen's temple.
"Were you bored in class? Maybe you wanted to meet up with friends or get an early lunch?" She listed off the most common excuses bolder delinquents gave her. She hummed, leaning her chin on her entwined fingers, "How about an emotional reason? Did you feel upset in class and needed to take a walk?" She probed gently.
Mob curled imperceptibly inwards, holding his shoulders tighter to avoid reacting. But, Reigen spotted his clear sign of guilt: Mob's hands were gripping his knees with white knuckles.
"I'm sorry. I don't know." He replied robotically, voice getting flatter as Mob's distress grew. Uh oh, Reigen realised suddenly, this is bad. Mob really doesn't want to talk. He rubbed his clammy hands on his thighs, readying himself to step in and stop this situation from escalating any further.
Before the counsellor could say another word, Reigen went on damage control.
He hummed in surprise, drawing his phone from his suit pocket. In one fluid motion, he flipped it open and pressed it to his ear. He made a show of clicking the 'answer call' button.
"Spirit's and Such Consultation Office. Reigen Arataka, greatest psychic of the 21st century speaking. How can I help you?" He nodded along to the silent client on the other end of his fake call, "Hmm… an important job, you say? Please, calm down sir, of course I can handle it."
As he dialled the theatrics to 10, Mob spared his mentor a glance. Reigen trained his eyes on the wall, only so that he wouldn't break character once he spotted the dried tear tracks running down his student's red cheeks. Reigen widened his eyes dramatically, letting his mouth fall slack in mock horror. His imaginary client was describing quite the gruesome scene.
"Oh wow, that is very serious." He mumbled just loud enough for the counsellor to catch it. Reigen held back a smirk as she let out a worried hum.
Standing from his seat, Reigen straightened his tie, nodding again, "Stay calm and get to safety. My disciple and I will be there as soon as possible. How many victims did you say this spirit claimed already?" As he spouted a bunch of concerning nonsense, Reigen gestured for Mob to follow him. He scrambled out of his seat, thankfully used to Reigen's antics enough to understand the scheme he was pulling.
"Oh my-! Is something wrong?" Reigen flicked his eyes to the counsellor rising from her desk, a hand on her chest. This time, he let his satisfied smirk free, facing the door. Dramatically, he clicked his phone shut. In his grimest voice he could muster, Reigen put the final nail in the coffin.
"Yes. I've just gotten a call about a violent spirit terrorising innocent civilians. It's serious- life or death, you see." He reached for the door handle, "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to cut this meeting short. I'm sure you understand." With that, Reigen threw the door open, steering Mob out of the school briskly. Sure, it was one of his more reliable lies, but it didn't fool everyone and Reigen would rather be caught dead than have to own up to lying straight to someone's face.
Once they were outside the school, he relaxed. Reigen clapped his freed student's shoulder with a relieved grin.
"Alright, Mob, let's get out of here. What do you say to an early dinner? On me." Of course, that would mean Mob's paycheck would be lighter tomorrow, but it's the thought that counts. Money doesn't grow on trees after all.
Reigen stopped his stroll when he realised Mob wasn't following. Instead of falling into step with him, Mob was still standing in front of the school, his face buried in his hands as his shoulders jumped up and down sharply.
Reigen rushed over to him, hovering around his crying student. He floundered; Mob hadn't cried in front of him in what must have been years. He hadn't cried in front of anyone else in much longer.
To his surprise, Mob tipped forward until his forehead rested on Reigen's chest. Reigen froze before placing a tentative hand on the top of his student's head. Gently, he patted down his shiny black hair.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked. Mob mulled it over for a few minutes. Reigen didn't mind; he knew that Mob needed time to think about what he was going to say. Mob had always been a quiet kid and when he wasn't lost in thought, he was speaking his mind– even if the things that came out of his mouth were terribly blunt. So, in the middle of the day outside of the school they had just ran out of mid-conversation, Reigen and Mob stood as Mob collected his thoughts. Reigen really hoped no one would spot them.
"He poured milk on my head." Is what eventually wrestled it's way out of Mob's throat. It was mumbled, like he was both scared and ashamed of the admission.
Reigen didn't understand the gravity he was giving it, but sometimes Mob was just sensitive about violence. No matter how tame or justified.
"The kid you pushed?" Reigen prompted. Mob just nodded, "Well then, I think he deserved it. Serves him right for being a jerk."
He thought that would be the end of it; Mob would wipe his eyes and give Reigen a faint, grateful smile, and then they would be off eating mediocre ramen at the cheapest place in the city. Instead, Mob unfurled a bit, grabbing Reigen by the front of his blazer and burying his face in his chest as he choked and sputtered.
"Woah, kid!" Reigen wrapped him up in a real hug, confused at Mob's sudden clinginess, "Mob, calm down, you're hyperventilating." He struggled to keep the panic out of his tone. Mob shook his head frantically.
"Okay! Okay, Mob, just breathe," Reigen shushed, rocking them back and forth slightly in their hug. He hoped it was comforting, he wasn't very well versed in hugs. Mob wasn't usually touchy like this.
He felt a few teardrops soak into his shirt before he collected himself.
He ran a hand through the back of Mob's bowl cut, "It looks like you got most of it out, but you probably want to get properly cleaned up, huh? How about I walk you home and-" Mob shook his head again.
"You don't want to go home?" Reigen took the resounding silence as a yes, "And you probably don't want to go to the office, right?" Nope, alright, last resort, "Okay, what about my apartment, then? You can get cleaned up and I'll order takeout." He sweetened the deal, "And we can watch those action shows you like?"
Mob thought about it; it had been a while since he had been to Reigen's apartment, but he remembers it being pretty cozy. He liked hanging out there when he was younger and his parents needed his boss to act as his pseudo-babysitter. Reigen always tried to make his few stays there fun. And although 'free' dinners were regular with Reigen, Mob was really hungry from missing lunch to hide in the Telepathy Club room. Takeout sounded like a dream at this point.
"Mhm." Mob hummed.
--------------------------------------------------
Reigen gathered his haphazardly folded pyjamas, placing them in Mob's arms. He shot the boy a smile, but Mob's eyes were glued to the ground, glazed over with a distant frown on his face. He took the clothes with a quiet thank you, padding into Reigen's small bathroom. The door clicked behind him loudly in the silence.
Reigen sighed, scrubbing his face with a hand. Maybe he should get into something comfier as well.
The shower started as Reigen dug around for anything remotely wearable. I hope I didn't give Mob the last of my clean laundry… Just then, Reigen pulled a crumpled sage green ('barf green' a particular spiky haired kid jeered in his mind) tracksuit from under his bed. It didn't have any obvious smells or stains so it was passable in Reigen's book.
He jumped into bed, relaxing into the pillows and dragging his laptop towards himself. As he sent out emails and filled out his calender with upcoming appointments, he heard the shower shut off. A few minutes later, Mob shuffled out of the bathroom, wet hair plastered to his forehead and cheeks red from the hot water (or from crying, his brain supplied unhelpfully). He was fiddling with the hem of the oversized sweatshirt Reigen gave him. It went past his hips and the sleeves pooled at his wrists. The pyjama pants he wore had to be rolled up at his ankles and cinched tight around his waist. Reigen didn't like he frail he looked.
Reigen pulled out his phone, rummaging through all of the random papers in his desk for a takeout menu. Just as he sat up to move to his couch, the mattress dipped next to him as Mob settled on the bed. He pulled his knees to his chest. Wordlessly, Reigen handed him the menu.
Once they had their food ordered, Reigen pulled up a new tab in Mobgle, quickly searching through suspicious websites for good quality rips of Mob's favourite shows.
"Cover your eyes, I don't know what kinda ads will pop up." He reminded Mob, chuckling. His student just hid his face in his knees.
Soon, they were huddled around Reigen's laptop, eating their dinners and watching TV. The show was in pretty good quality, but even then, Reigen had no idea what was happening. As he watched the flashy fight scenes, he wondered why kids even liked this stuff. It was just guys yelling at each other and blowing shit up with magic. He realised that might be a bit hypocritical, remembering the magical girl cartoons of his childhood. Kids like to watch other kids wear colourful outfits and fight with superpowers.
Reigen cringed; after seeing what that mentality did to real children, he couldn't watch the show without feeling a bit sick to his stomach. Or maybe it was the two bowls of ramen he ate…
The credits played softly, some woman singing about friendship over quiet piano. Reigen collected their leftover bowls and chopsticks, taking a quick three-step trip to the kitchen to throw out their trash. He stretched, wincing at the way his back popped way too loud to be healthy. As he made his way back, he realised Mob had paused their show.
Reigen hesitated at the side of his bed, before perching on the edge of it next to Mob. He reached out and patted his knee, silently imploring him to talk.
"Shishou-" Mob started, face crumpled in a way that looked painful, "I'm sorry for bothering you." He bowed, "I caused so much trouble today for no reason. I made you come to my school when you could have been working."
Reigen shook his head harshly, "No, no! No, Mob, you didn't bother me. You needed my help back there. What kinda shishou would I be if I didn't get you out of trouble, anyways? Besides," he cracked a smile, ruffling Mob's hair, "I don't blame you for skipping class after what that jerk did."
Mob ducked his head down, wrapping his arms around his knees.
"That's not… why I skipped." He whispered. Reigen stilled.
"No?"
Once again, Mob was tense. He was pulled so taught, he was shaking. The room held its breath for a minute or two as Mob collected his thoughts.
"I wasn't feeling well this morning. I had a nightmare- uhm- about school."
Reigen hummed softly, not wanting to break whatever spell made his student want to talk about what was bothering him.
Unfortunately, Mob held his tongue, falling silent again.
"What happened in your dream, Mob? You can talk to me, you know." Reigen prompted. Mob's face was blank, but his breathing came out in short bursts, revealing the emotions boiling just beneath the surface.
"Do you remember when we had to- to help that possesed girl?" It didn't make sense; why did Mob look so scared?
Reigen nodded. Of course he remembered that awful job; he remembered how he had to sit and watch his disciple put himself in danger while he could do absolutely nothing. He remembered getting in a cab to go home and how Mob refused to look him in the eye the whole ride, but glued himself to Reigen's side. He remembered how jumpy he was and how unstable Mob's powers were for a whole week after. Now, three weeks later, Reigen was just glad they got out of there without incident and they could put the whole thing behind them.
"Asagiri? Yeah, what about it?" Reigen replied flippantly.
Mob flinched.
"When I was in her mind with…" He was staring at his feet, gaze worryingly distant. It looked like he wasn't even present in their conversation– like he was only talking through himself from somewhere else.
"With Mogami," he mumbled the psychic's name, "I was in there for a long time. I think it was longer for me than it was for you."
Reigen stayed silent, rubbing small circles on Mob's knee with his thumb. He hoped his small reassurances were enough to clear that fog from Mob's eyes.
"Um- it was months, actually." He confessed. Months?! How could he have been there for months? It took only half an hour at most for Mob to exorcise Mogami. Reigen barely bit back his questions.
"That world I was in, it was…" he paused, struggling to find his words, "Shishou, you didn't exist and my family didn't either a-and-!" His grip around himself tightened. As his aura spiked, his hair started to float, revealing wide, scared eyes underneath.
"Everyone hated me– Minori hated me and Ritsu didn't care about me and all of my classmates thought I was awful-" Mob couldn't breathe. All he could see as he squeezed his eyes shut was Minori's malicious smile. The smile she gave him when she picked on him, called him names, cornered him in the halls, poured milk over his head. Cold sweat dripped down his face and it was like he was back there, his own blood gushing from his head and over his cheeks. It felt like dying.
Meanwhile, Reigen was getting more confused with each confession; what was this other world Mob was talking about? What does he mean he didn't exist? Were they still talking about Mob's dream? What does this have to do with Mob skipping class?
"I'm sorry, Mob, but I don't really get what you're trying to say?" Reigen said gently. Mob's eyes opened and he startled like he forgot Reigen was even there.
"M-Mogami," again he said it in a hushed tone, "He made a world in Minori's mind. It was like my life here but- but none of my friends were there. And I think my family wasn't either because... I lived alone." He didn't mention how Mogami took away his powers. He didn't know what he would do if Reigen found out what he did once he got them back.
"Minori…" Mob scrubbed his palms over his eyes, drying the tears springing up against his will "She always targeted me at school." 'And everywhere else,' was left unsaid.
"I don't know why, um– why she hated me so much, actually. One time…" His hands twisted in his borrowed sweatshirt, right above his stomach, "She spilled a carton of milk on me. On purpose." He confessed in a hushed voice.
Reigen's heart clenched. So that's what he's so upset about, he thought, relief flooding through him. Just as he started to make up a speech about how that job was over and he was safe, Mob continued speaking.
"A-and I was scared of going to class because…" The cups and plates in Reigen's cupboards started to rattle, "Be-because-" he flinched as a something shattered in the distance, phantom pains sparking on the skin of his cheek. Reigen paid the ruined dish no mind. He barely ate out of them anyways.
"My teachers they would- uh. If I got a-a question wrong… they hit me. Um- hard." Mob's words oozed shame. He hung his head, cheeks flush with humiliation.
It's not everything, Mob knew. It would probably never be everything, if he was being totally honest. Six months of pent up frustration at the world, crushing loneliness, and a hopelessness so all encompassing he thought he would choke on it every day couldn't be voiced in a single conversation. All Reigen needed was context right now, Mob told himself. There was no need to worry his shishou with details of box cutters and cats and the cackling laugh of high schoolers.
He threaded his fingers in his flowing bangs, "I know it's not real," he reassured himself, "But it's still so- it makes me feel so-" he floundered, mouth popping open and closed.
"Scared?" Reigen supplied weakly. This whole conversation made him feel like that, actually; scared and weak.
Mob finally looked him in the eyes and the open desperation could have made him cry. He opened his arms and Mob fell into him.
“I had a dream about it last night…” he croaked, “I co-couldn’t calm down all day. I was scared of hurting anyone s-so I hid in the club room instead of going to class.” Mob’s voice broke, “I’m sorry.” He whispered. Whether Mob was apologising for breaking the rules or for keeping this a secret from Reigen, he couldn’t tell.
Reigen tucked the boy's head under his chin, wrapping his arms around his small back. Small because he's a child. A child you failed to protect. He counted with Mob, trying to get his breathing under control. Reigen tried to stay present but his own distress was mounting by the second, stirring in his chest and making his heart race.
How long did Mob say he spent in that hellish world? Months? Reigen tightened their hug with shaking hands. Mob was trapped in Mogami’s manipulative illusion for so long with no one to turn to– not even himself it sounded like. Reigen was almost glad for it; he didn’t want to know how Mogami would have twisted their relationship. He didn’t want to think about what kind of irreparable harm he could have caused.
The thought of himself raising a hand to Mob in the same way his teachers had was enough to make him nauseous.
After what could have been hours of hushed voices and panicked sobs, Mob’s aura calmed down and Reigen’s apartment was finally still. Reigen held his student long past the sun setting, no matter how much his back protested the action. He rubbed circles in Mob’s back, talking about anything and everything until he slumped against his chest, fast asleep.
He was in the middle of a rant about the proper way to season pork when the peace was broken by his ringtone. It was muffled, tangled in the comforter they both sat on. He rifled through the blanket's folds, digging out his phone and flipping it open. The time blinked back at him.
"9:13 already?" He mused under his breath, hitting the answer button.
Before he could start up his customer service greeting, the woman on the line cut in.
"Reigen?" Mrs. Kageyama demanded, relief lacing her concern. Reigen's eyebrows rose.
"Oh, hey, Mrs. Kageyama." Reigen answered dumbly. She forewent her usual correction of the formality and rushed into the reason why she called.
"Is Shige with you? He was supposed to be home hours ago and he hasn't been answering his phone." Her tone was scolding but the frantic pace she spoke with gave away her anxiety. Reigen looked down at Mob's slowly rising and falling back as the boy dozed. He still clung to Reigen's middle in a tight grip, sitting up despite his exaustion.
"He's with me. Sorry for worrying you, I didn't see the time." He pinched between his eyes, "It's been a long day, if I'm being honest. Shigeo's asleep right now, but I can get him a cab or something if you need him home."
Mrs. Kageyama answered slowly, a warning just under her words, "Did something happen?"
Reigen winced.
Lying to Mob's parents wasn't something he loved doing- they already put so much trust in him with their son and violating that trust made his skin crawl. They could also be pretty intimidating when they wanted to be, especially his strict mother. What had happened on the Asagiri job was horrible and keeping that from Mob's parents didn't sit right with him.
On the other hand, Mob seemingly hadn't told anyone else about it yet. If his student wasn't comfortable telling his parents about Mogami, then Reigen had no place doing it for him.
"Nothing drastic. Just a bad night's sleep, I think," he stretched the truth. "He's hanging out at my place." Reigen let out a hollow laugh, "Don't worry, he's been fed. We were just eating ramen and watching TV before you called."
"I wasn't criticising you, Reigen." He could hear the smile in her voice as she teased him, "I'm sure you boys had lots of fun. Just make sure he hasn't been cursed or whatever it's called."
His smile strained. Sure, Mob hadn't been cursed by a spirit, but another kind of heavy presence hung over him. This was something they couldn't just exorcise in a second– something that would follow him around for the foreseeable future.
"I'll have you know, Mrs. Kageyama, I'll be 30 soon. I wouldn't exactly call myself a 'boy' anymore." Reigen joked weakly. It was hard to keep his festering guilt out of his voice.
She hummed sarcastically, "Goodnight, Reigen. Let me know when Shige wakes up." Reigen agreed and quickly hung up. He snapped his phone shut as quietly as possible, letting out a sigh into the remaining silence.
Judging by the time and the heavy weight of Mob's head on his shoulder as the boy slept soundly, Reigen was sure he wouldn't be getting back to Mrs. Kageyama anytime soon. He shot her a text saying just as much.
Gently, Mob's fists were released from the sides of his tracksuit. Reigen tucked him in, slipping off of the squeaky mattress. He nabbed his laptop from where it lay forgotten next to Mob's head, settling onto his couch and resting it on his stomach. The couch was way too small for Reigen to sleep on, but he could handle his ankles dangling off the arm for one night if it meant Mob would sleep peacefully in turn. He reached around under his coffee table, finding a thin fleece blanket with a triumphant smirk he didn't really feel. It also didn't cover his feet.
Reigen fell into a restless sleep, passing out in the early hours of the morning with his clunky laptop pressing into his gut uncomfortably.
The only solace from his endless nightmares, was the soft, steady snores of his student filling the air in his apartment. Everytime he woke, stomach roiling and berating himself over how badly he had failed Mob, he was comforted by that noise.
Part of Reigen knew that it was probably because the boy was exhausted after the day he's had, but a smaller, softer part of him wanted to believe he put the boy's dreams at ease. The thought that Mob felt safe and cared for, at least for now, in his presence warmed his heart– no matter how much he tried to deny it.
Reigen dialled Salt Middle School the next morning, calling his student in sick. He and Mob spent the day walking through parks and eating mochi, instead. They don't talk about their conversation last night, but Mob leans into his space more than usual and Reigen makes sure to smile at his student more; when they part for dinner, Reigen ruffles his hair and Mob huffs out a faint laugh, not bothering to duck away from his hand.
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