#would ritsu even let mob be a shut in? do they stay close or drift apart over the years

[brilliantpines]

thinking about. ageswap ritsu

[m-feys]

mp100 wip | ~ 5000 words | Teru POV | terumob + Reigen & Teru |  set in a fight with unknown espers, Teru struggles with mortaltiy, while Mob struggles to save him

-

"You have to let me go!"

He could see them charging the blast out of the corner of his eye and knew they couldn't last like this.

If Shigeo didn't focus on shielding himself, he would simply be shot out of the sky.

"Let me go or you're gonna die!" he screamed urgently at the boy suspended unnaturally among the clouds. Shigeo only stared, those ever intense eyes trained on him, teeth bared. His refusal unspoken but still palpable, just like the electricity in the air. They were trying to kill him.

It was a miracle on its own that the power blocking move had not worked on Shigeo entirely. But of course, miracles were Mob's average. But there was no way he would survive this, still holding onto Teruki. Miracle or not.

Mob wasn't holding him up with his powers. Teru may not have psychic energy at the moment— the move had it’s intended effect on him— so he couldn't sense Shigeo's energy like he always could. Even from great distances he could always feel him humming with power, it was unsettling to lack that feeling, especially so close. But still, he could tell the boy was only holding him by the iron grip on his wrist.

The tell-tale feeling of your body being held up by tiny cushions of power wasn't there. Instead, the whole of his weight was suspended by his arm. And his shoulder hurt, hurt, hurt. But only in the back of his mind was he aware of that. He could see Mob physically straining, and feel his grip tighten every time his sweat-slicked hand started to slip.

Teru couldn't overpower him in a psychic opposition. Especially not right now. But Mob wasn't holding him up with his powers.

For a moment it was like the world narrowed to only them and in a moment of clarity, knowing exactly what he had to do, Teru reached up with his free arm and grasped onto Mob's hand on his wrist.

Methodically, he started to pry those starch fingers away from his skin. He could feel himself slipping. He couldn't look away from Shigeo, even as the boy above him looked almost furious, eyes brimming with rage. Wait, no, maybe that was fear. Teru wasn't quite sure, even as he fell and Mob started to shrink from his view, oh, so quickly.

Still, falling like this, he felt an odd sense of calm. Either he would regain some of his powers before he hit the ground or he wouldn't. Still, either way, Shigeo would live.

What he didn't expect was to stop after few seconds of falling, coming to a painful halt.

It felt like he'd been dropped on the pavement but he was alive and he didn't think he'd broken anything. Yet he couldn't move, having been grabbed out of the air with someone's psychic powers as an iron fist. He was rising again and when Shigeo came into view he was shaking as he still had his hand reaching down in Teru's direction.

The moment of calm, probably very poor clarity, and maybe extremely bad judgement, was long broken, but it was then that all hell broke loose.

He stops falling suddenly once more. And once more, its not the ground that catches him. This time he can feel that familiar power. The unique aura that Mob has is holding him up. This time, its careful and unpanicked and he knows this is because Mob is at his full power.

A blast cuts through the air like a knife, deafening him as he sees Shigeo flung away like he's nothing more than an errant fly. The other boy goes careening through the clouds until Teru can't see him anymore. And he screams. Screams something. Has no idea what, barely even can hear himself to his muted ears as he screams for Shigeo. They were both falling now.

He's lifted again until he's level with the other boy and blinding star bursts of light explode around the espers attacking them, immense untamable energy hums through the air. And Teru feels his pulse beating staccato through the red handprint on his wrist, along with the thrumming in his ears. The flashes of power are dazzling but he finds his eyes going back to Shigeo and sees the boy suspended limply in the air. Eyes open slightlessly, wide and glowing as energy whipped around him and cast him in shadow. He's unconscious.

Teruki can only stare as their assailants are destroyed and cast back down to earth. He has no doubt, however, that Mob managed to leave them alive as he always did with humans, even while unconscious. Espers were never easy to kill, either.

They drift back to the ground with ease and once Teru is steady on his feet his picks his way past rubble over to Shigeo where he stays hovered just above the ground. His eyes are unsettlingly empty; Teru still doesn't look away, just watches and waits for him to wake up, clutching onto his inflamed shoulder all the while.

It's ironic. Right now when Mob is waking up from his unconscious explosion, he drifts back down to earth instead of getting up. He reaches out to steady him as he settles. He remembers how he lead the floating Kageyama back to his apartment by his hand, like a balloon on a string.

Then Teru is sitting down next to his shoulder, carefully balancing on his good arm and keeping his other still. His shoulder pounds a pulse beat as he feels the wrongness there. It must be dislocated. He reaches his hand back to it instinctively once he's settled and stares out at the destruction from their fight all around them. It's quiet, peaceful.

He glanced down to find Shigeo's eyes open staring mournfully up at the sky.

"Welcome back, Kageyama-kun," he says, trying for a smile.

"What did I do?" He asks blankly, eyes focused on nothing. "I can't remember."

"You saved me," is all Teru says, its simple. It's the truth.

For reasons he can't quite fathom, Kageyama’s eyes are welling up with tears now. There's nothing he can say and Teruki wishes the cinematic parallels to their first fight would just stop.

Shigeo starts to shift away from him, curling up on himself, lying on his side. And Teru knows nothing he can do to help. He hesitates for a moment as the boy sobs into his hands, then he falls forward, sort of half lying on him in his best attempt at a hug as he keeps his useless arm at his side while clutching at Shigeo's T-shirt with the other. He buries his nose in his shoulder and tries to muster a sadness to match Mob's but can only find fury that he can't do anything to fix it. And exhaustion. He squeezes his eyes shut and presses his forehead against him like he might could bore his head into him and seep the sadness out of him like a sponge. They were alive, that had to count for something.

"We're ok!" He reminds him desperately. He clenches his teeth as Shigeo’s sobs continue on with shuddering breaths shaking his shoulder beneath Teru's head.

Then the boy is shifting and his shirt, still held fast in Teru's fist, is twisting around his abdomen. Arms are wrapping around Teru's head and shoulder as Mob presses his tear soaked face into his hair and cries.

He stays folded on himself and in Shigeo's grasp, hand held tight onto his shirt, needing something solid.

"We're ok," he repeats.

---

In the end it’s Shigeo's master that gets him to the hospital.

Ritsu is the one who finds them, trained in on his brother like a bloodhound. So, they're found not too long after falling from the sky. And Reigen is in tow, sprinting frantically after the esper boy zipping around with telekinesis.

The swelling of his shoulder probably was easy to spot, but the twist of pain on his face likely even easier. They go to Mob first, which Teru understands entirely. Ritsu quickly hugs his brother before staring on about questions of 'who did this' and 'where are they Nii-san'. while Reigen hands him a a handkerchief for his tears, asking if he's hurt. And checking him over for injuries even after the shake of his head. Teru sits with his knees curled up and injured arm held close and careful by his body. He watches as Reigen brushes Mob's hair back to check for head injuries while Ritsu stays tensely by his side and wonders if this burning feeling means he's jealous or grateful that Mob has people who so genuinely care for him. Family. Maybe he feels both.

With no warning, the attention is turned to him. And he's supposed to be used having all eyes on him, has reveled in it, in fact, but right now he's caught off guard. His wound is easy to see so there's no real need to ask, he thinks.

"What happened?" Reigen asks soberly as they look to him. Oh, that must be why they're focused on him now. They need the story.

He starts to explain, brows furrowed as he tries to relay it all as best he can, "They ambushed us, and then they stripped me of my power and I couldn't do anything, Mob had to—" Reigen cuts him off with a wave of his hand as if brushing it all aside.

"No, don't worry about any of that right now." He tells him seriously, looking him in the eye. "You can tell us about that later. What happened to your arm? Are you hurt anywhere else?"

He hates the way his face crumples at the concerned words and all he can think is 'why bother crying now?' Don’t cry when they're looking at you. Don't show weakness. But he can't stop the well tears, even as he tries to blink them away. He swipes his good hand across his face quickly, trying to recover his composure and keep his voice steady, "My shoulder is dislocated," he admits miserably.

"Anywhere else hurt?" Reigen asks and all Teru can answer with this time is a shake of his head. He feels small and venerable— not for the first time. But its overwhelming to have someone trying to take care of him, that, he has not experienced in a long while.

Still, Shigeo's master leans over and brushes a hand across his head as he checks for injuries.

"Your nose is bleeding, does that hurt?" Reigen raises a concerned eyebrow at him and Teru reaches up to touch just above his lip and strangely enough finds it to be damp, pulling his fingers away to find deep crimson stained on their tips.

"I didn't even notice."

"Hm," Reigen simply nods with a frown and turns back to Mob, Teru barely hears what he asks him as he marvels how he didn't notice his nose bleeding. Then he's turning back to him, the handkerchief returned from Mob, "Sorry I don't have another, but you can use this and don't tilt your head back, let the blood drain out."

He nods and does as told, the cloth is not even damp, he thinks most of Mob's tears and snot must be in his hair. That's sort of funny.

"You think you can walk?" Reigen asks, still holding his crouch in front of him, hands braced on his knees.

"I can carry you," Ritsu offers quickly.

Teru shakes his head though. "No, I can walk." He answers readily.

Reigen nods and pushes himself to stand up before holding a hand down for Teru.

He looks at the hand, then up at the man offering it. He isn't entirely sure he trusts him. He admires him, just from having seen him in action that night at Claw and knows if he's Mob's master he must be someone good. But he's also an adult. And the way Teru sees it, adults either want to control you, and see you put into your place. Or, they abandon you. And they don't look back. The problem is, he wants so badly for an adult to see worth in him, especially someone good like Shigeo's master. But his brain is warning him he's only going to have his trust broken.

So be he hesitates, but in the end he takes his hand. He could use the help, he just hopes he isn't let down. Reigen holds him steady while he gets his legs under him without the use of his other arm. Then "You can lean on me if you need to ok?" The man offers.

"I can still lift both of you if you need," Ritsu adds, watching his movements sharply.

"Just let us know if you need help," Reigen decides.

He nods to acknowledge the words but Teru doesn't really ask for help. He watches as Ritsu helps Shigeo to his feet now. Their eyes catch as he stands and Teru takes the chance to study his face while Mob watches him in return.

"We just need to walk to the road then I can get us a car," Reigen says, clapping his hands together lightly, "hopefully," he adds under his breath.

Theres a small cut on the other boy's cheek that seems to have stopped bleeding already and one of his eyes is beginning to swell. His eye catches on the smear of blood on the shoulder of Shigeo’s dirty, roughed-up t-shirt where Teru had pressed his face into the fabric.

"I have to go find those guys," Ritsu declares dangerously.

Ritsu looks at his brother, brows furrowed, "Nii-san, I can go find them so they won't just get away," he offers more evenly.

"You need to stay with your brother," Reigen counters easily.

Shigeo shakes his head solemly, "... stay with us. Please, Ritsu."

"... Okay."

"Now," reigen says, stepping behind them to steer them forward gently. "Let's get you two to the hospital. I'll make sure nobody falls behind, Ritsu why don't you take the lead."

Little brother nods seriously as he walks up front, glancing back every now and then, while Reigen walks a few paces behind them.

Teruki glances over to Shigeo beside him. He looks tired, but Teru can't quite tell if he still feels all that despair he'd shown earlier. His gaze falls back to the blood stain on his shoulder. And he thinks of being curled up beside him. He thinks of trying to find some way to assuage all that pain.

Any and all risks Teru takes are calculated. When you see him fight he may not seem it, but he's careful. And he's always taking in information. So even if every move he makes might be a gamble, its one he knows he'll win. All his choices are careful and safe, except for when it comes to Kageyama Shigeo, apparently.

He starts to reach out, their hands are close as they walk side by side. and its easy to brush pinkies. He sees Mob's eyes flit down to their hands and then back ahead of them. And Teru honestly has no idea what he's thinking. What he might do. If he'll pull away, or brush closer. He does neither of those things though, simply keeps his hand where it is and walks. Teru takes another risk. He brushes his fingers past his palm and slots their hands together.

Mob blinks, misses a step and almost trips as he looks down at their hands. Then he's looking back up at him with wide eyes, and Teru waits for the backlash.

It doesn't come. Shigeo simply looks back down at his feet carefully studying their steps. And, he holds Teru's hand.

---

Their palms get sweaty and Shigeo starts to swing their hands stiffly between them like he doesn't know what he's meant to do. And Teruki feels like their hands were made to fit together.

Teru isn't exactly certain what information Reigen wrote on his sign-in form. He remembers answering a few questions for him, but recalls nothing about his parents.

The man is sat in a chair beside him in the hospital room now, idly flipping through a magazine. Teru is on the bed, his arm resting in a sling. They gave him pain medication and plan to release him in a few hours. But for now its just waiting, and stillness. He stares down at the spider web crack running across his phone screen, minimal damage considering what they'd been through.

"How ya feeling?" Reigen asks out of the blue, still looking at the magazine.

"Fine," he answers simply. The man is setting the magazine aside then, open-face on the small bedside table, focused on Teru now.

"That's one hell of a bruise."

He blinks and looks down at the purpling mark in the vague shape of a hand holding onto his wrist.

"Yeah," he agrees blankly.

"Wanna talk about it?" The question takes him off guard and he actually looks over at Reigen now. He looks serious; Teru considers it. He shrugs, feeling a slight twinge in his shoulder as he does.

"Mob did that?" He wonders, seeming concerned.

"Kageyama-kun just had to grab me." Something about Reigen's expression seems to sharpen at that.

"He had to, he saved me from falling."

"But he didn't catch you with his powers?"

"The power blocking, they had—" he starts, feeling impatient at having to explain this again.

"Oh, right, of course," Reigen nods, recalling.

It's silent for a moment again as he looks back down at his phone and traces the crack once more. For some reason he keeps talking, "I tried to save him too, but I couldn't."

"What do you mean?"

"When he had me I knew he couldn't protect himself if he was holding me so I tried to get him to let me go."

The room is dead silent then for a long moment. He looks over at Reigen after it goes on for too long, having expected a response.

He finds the man staring at him intently, eyes wide and horrified, "You did what?" He demands.

"I tried to save him," he clarifies but for some reason he's starting to feel guilty.

"You tried to throw yourself into a river to be someone else’s raft. That stuff doesn't work."

"He could have died trying to protect me!" He bites back feeling sick to his stomach at the thought.

"And you could have died from the fall!" Reigen responds, leaning towards him, looking furious.

"Why does that matter!?" He demands.

Reigen moves to perch on the bed beside his legs. He looks at him seriously, voice gentler now as he speaks, "you matter."

"Because you matter!" Reigen tells him sharply standing quickly, and Teru goes still with shock. "You matter! You're alive and you've got your whole life ahead of you. You don't just throw that away. You've got people who care about you and people who will down the line. Don't. throw. that. away." Teru wants to shrink away from the words. He stares up at the man and tears well up in his eyes.

Teruki had always lived a world that moved as game chips. Useful, well-liked pieces were kept, while unnecessary or threatening pieces were discarded. In the past he told himself he was an important piece because of his powers. One that could move other pieces as he liked. Then Mob came along and he wasn't so important anymore. 

Which was ok, really, if he didn't have to be special. It was ok that he wasn't perfect. Right? But he was just another piece then. Disposable. This Master Reigen seemed to think otherwise. That he had worth simply for being alive. Tears were streaming down his face but he wasn't quite sure when he had started crying.

A hand was on his shoulder, his uninjured one. "If Mob was trying to save you, don't try to take that choice from him." He continued sincerely, then sighed, "You're both alive and well, and that's what matters."

"Where is he?" Teru asks in a broken voice, too overwhelmed to be worried about seeming weak and getting choked up.

"He should be out of treatment soon or already is out." Reigen spoke, patting Teru's shoulder twice before standing from the bed and walking to the bathroom. "Do you want me to try and find him?" He asks, voice drifting out from the open door of the bathroom as he opens some cabinet drawers.

He steps back out with a roll of toilet paper, setting it down on the bed just next to Teru. He grabs it, wordlessly grateful for the immediate chance to wipe his face. He removes a length of it and sets the roll back down next to his phone. Something occurs to him.

"Did you have them call my parents?"

"No." Reigen answers simply moving to lean against the wall.

"But— how did you sign me in then?" He looks at him, bewildered.

"I said that I was your guardian." He responds like it makes the all the sense in the world and Teru balks.

"Why would you do that?" He demands.

Reigen considers him and Teru envies the way he keeps his demeanor his so unaffected even when he's being challenged.

"Mob told me you live alone and I have no idea what your relationship with your parents are like. And this way we don't have to wade thought the bullsh— the muck of trying to explain what happened before you get treatment."

That all... made sense.

"Want me to call them now?

He shakes his head quickly. Something else occurs to him, "You're paying for this?"

The man's mouth quirked in a smile, "Of course, I'm your dad now, aren't I?"

He couldn't help but snort at that. "Yeah... right."

---

Reigen had disappeared to talk to the front desk about payment but in his absence he'd sent Shigeo and Ritsu to keep him company in his room.

"Hey, Hanazawa," Ritsu spoke as he entered the room first, pushing the door open with Shigeo trailing just behind him.

"Hanazawa-kun," his older brother spoke, stepping out from beside him to stand just next to his bed as he looked him over intently. "How is your arm?"

Teru found himself smiling, "Hi, kageyama-kun and little brother. My arm is fine. Or at least it will be."

Mob nodded stiffly, examining the floor in great detail now. Teru was still focused only on him, concern knitting his brows when Ritsu spoke up.

"I'm gonna get get some water, anybody want some?" The door squeaked open as he spoke and both of them looked over to see him halfway out the door already, looking at them expectantly.

"I'm ok," Teru spoke and glanced at Mob's perplexed expression, adding, "We're ok."

Ritsu simply nodded and then he was gone, door slipping shut behind him. That was a little odd.

"Why didn't he get water before we came in here?" Mob wonders softly.

"Maybe he actually had to take a shit and didn't want to admit it?" Teru offered as explanation.

The line between Shigeo's brows deepened as he put a hand to his chin and considered this carefully, then, "maybe," he decided doubtfully.

Teru smiled at his serious expression but it started to fade as the worry on Mob's expression didn't ease.

"There are chairs if you want—"

Shigeo cut him off, which was a rarity in itself, "Can I see?"

"See what?"

"You arm." Teru tensed at the grave demeanor he was carrying, but shifted the arm in the sling towards him with no hesitance, so he could get a better look. Slowly, Shigeo reached a hand towards his, eyes focused on the purple bruise wrapped around his wrist.

Fingers brushed the discolored skin there with a feather light touch. Teru dared not move feeling like anything would startle this fragile moment, as if Mob might startle off like an injured animal. Which was ironic considering Teru was the hurt animal in this situation. Maybe Shigeo was feeling the same way towards him.

"Does it hurt?" The words were soft and Teru let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"No, not right now."

The hand lingered there for a long moment and he could only guess what was in Shigeo's head. But that wasn't enough for him.

"What are you thinking?" He wonders, barely above a whisper.

Dark eyes flit up to him, then back down. His hand moves away incrementally, no longer touching, but fingers still arrayed around his skin. "I... think I might could help heal you. But I don't want to mess it up," he supplied quietly, "And make it worse."

"You can try it," he answered immediately, trusting him entirely. "It’s just a bruise, so its not like you'll be trying to mend bone or something," he reasoned after the fact.

Shigeo hesitated for just a moment longer before a soft white glow started to emit from his hand held around Teru's wrist.

The feeling of it was hard to pin down, the power felt warm, uncomfortably so, almost like his body was running too hot just under the skin. And pinpricks were buzzing where the damaged blood vessels knitted themselves back together. It felt unnatural, but Teru kept himself still and let him work. When Mob did pull his hand away, he could see that the bruise was still visible in a few dark purpled spots and the rest faded to the brown of an old bruise. Like it had healed unevenly. Interesting.

"How does it feel?" Shigeo asked and when Teru glanced at him he could see the nervous tension around the boy's eyes.

He poked one of the brown places experimentally, nothing, "It feels better," he spoke, looking up to turn a smile on the other boy. In response, Shigeo’s shoulders relaxed incrementally as he took a step back to collapse into one of the chairs situated next to the bed. Teru relaxed back into his pillows in turn, still keeping his eyes on the other boy. As he settled into the chair, Mob curled in on himself, looking down at his hands as he twisted them together in his lap.

"Thank you, Kageyama-kun," he spoke sincerely, trying to calm whatever distressing thoughts he might be having.

"Why did you do it?" He asked in response, getting right to the thick of it.

Teru swallowed, "Do what?"

When Mob looked up at him his eyes were shining again and this time it was Teru who was staring down at his hands, unable to look at him.

"Why did you make me let you go?"

"I was trying to save you," he spoke, voice thick and nervous.

"You were hurting me," Shigeo responded simply and at those words Teruki's head snapped back up to look at him. The expression he wore was hard to parse and it was all Teru could do to hold his gaze, like whatever feeling was in his eyes was burning him just from looking at it. "I wasn't going to let you fall. But you just kept falling."

Teru froze at that, he hadn't thought of it from Mob's perspective, he'd watched him fall three times and three times he caught him, but the third he hadn't even been awake to see. His eyes drifted back down to his hands, curled instinctually around his phone and its dark, cracked screen.

"I didn't want you to get hurt protecting me," he said so softly and right now he couldn't bring himself to say 'die' when Mob had been so close to it and had seen him stray too close to it as well.

"I didn't. We're both still here."

"We are," he agrees brokenly, feeling like he's drowning in the smallest puddles.

"I'm always going to save you if I can. Please don't try to stop me." He requests. And Teru stares at his reflection in a cracked phone screen, face screwed up as tears well in his eyes. "Please, don't do that again," Shigeo asks of him once more and Teru can's speak as a drop of water lands on the reflective surface of his screen, another joins it as they run down the side and one seeps into the crack. He nods.

"Okay," he chokes out in agreement, managing to turn and look up at him. Mob has tear streaks running down his cheeks to match Teru's and he can't help but reach out his good hand towards him. Mob obliged him, standing and stepping towards the bed, and with no prompting he leans down to hug him. His arms are gently draped around him, as if he's trying to only barely be there. Teru holds onto him with his one arm as tight as he can.

"We're ok," Mob says, an echo of Teru's words earlier.

"We're ok," he repeats.

---

"He's just out in the hallway," Mob comments looking bewildered.

"Really?" Teru wonders, Shigeo had scooted his chair closer now and was allowing him to hold his hand. Though Mob had asked Teru if he was doing it right at first.

"Yes, he doesn't seem to be doing anything," he glanced up at Teru curiously, "can you sense him?"

"Maybe if I focused on him."

"Do you have your powers back yet?"

"I haven't tried yet," he admitted with a shrug. He could sense Mob's power again though, emanating from him like warmth from a radiator. Though there was really no telling if that spoke to the strength of his own power or the strength of Mob's. And Mob's psychic aura tended to drown out others, or at least Teruki was more tuned in to it than others. Maybe if he worked at it he could sense past the hum of power beside him into the hall where Ritsu was, but he had no real need or desire to. Instead he focused on his phone. It lifted easily and orbited in the air. He turned to look at Shigeo. "They're back."

Mob nodded, then gently tugged his hand away, quickly wiping it on his pants, "Sorry, my hand was sweaty," he spoke, but kept his hand in his lap. Teru quashed down his disappointment and nodded in return.

"Do you know how they did it?"

Mob's dark eyes shine in the cold lights as he looks at him from under his bangs.

"Did what?"

"The power blocking move."

“Not really,” he said, eyes still focused on Teru intently.

“What did it feel like to you? You still had some of your powers,” he points out, always wanting to know more.

Mob hesitates, staring down to study his hands in his lap before he answers, “strange... Like I was muffled.”

“It stopped working on you completely when you passed out,” Teru observed, already hypothesizing. It seemed to have some connection to the conscious mind, and they knew it was temporary.

“Maybe you have to be thinking about it,” Mob wondered.

Teru lit up at that, “you mean like perception block in your mind?”

Shigeo blinked at him, “maybe,” he agreed mildly, clearly not undestanding, but Teru smiled at him anyway, Mob may have figured out more than he knew, he’d have to work on this.

[avecorviidae]

Fic: Aubade - Chapter One

Fandom: Mob Psycho 100 Rating: M Relationship(s): Kageyama Ritsu/Suzuki Shou Word Count: 4196

Ao3 Link

Ritsu takes the overnight train from Grain City. His mother had told him to take the day train, given that they both knew he wouldn’t sleep on the ride home, and it would be better for him to arrive in the evening and go straight to bed, instead of arriving at dawn and spending all day trying not to fall asleep. She was probably right, but Ritsu was more or less an insomniac anyways, and night trains tended to be far less crowded, so. If he didn’t have to sit anywhere near a small, loud child, it would all be worth it.

He leans against a stone pillar on the platform and waits for the train to pull in. Despite the heavy summer air, the stone is cool at his back, seeping into his t-shirt and providing a pleasant contrast to the hot coffee in his hand. It should be cooling down a little soon, he thinks, staring at the sky, painted in soft pinks and oranges that darken into a deep red where the sun has disappeared behind some distant mountains. He cranes his head in the other direction to see where inky blue is starting to appear on the horizon, fading abruptly into the soft light of the sunset in broad strokes. It reminds him of the time he and Mob had found their mother’s watercolours when they were little, and decided to ‘decorate’ Ritsu’s bedroom walls. He spots a couple of white pinpricks in the distance, and distracts himself with trying to figure out if they’re stars or planes until the train pulls into the station, stopping at the platform with a shuddering sigh.

The only other people who would take an overnight train all the way to Seasoning City are a small crowd of salarymen making a commute for work, and Ritsu is infinitely thankful that they all seem to be as tired and antisocial as he is, because he finds himself alone in a passenger car aside from one dead-eyed guy in a suit who sits as far away from Ritsu as he’s physically able. Ritsu dumps his backpack onto the seats across from him and sits down, careful to hold his coffee steady as the train starts to pull out. He’s found that he can usually pack light when he’s going home for breaks, so his backpack just has the essentials. His wallet, phone charger, laptop, toiletries, a couple of books, a jacket, and some clean underwear are all he really needs to grab. While he knows that his brother’s old bedroom has been converted into a sewing room of sorts since he moved out, his mother has been loathe to change Ritsu’s room at all, so all of his clothes and such will still be waiting for him at home.

He settles back in his seat and lets himself stare out of the window as the train speeds up, until the station and the outskirts of Grain City fades away and the landscape turns into an indistinct blur. After a while, he remembers to pull out his phone.

TO: SHIGEO Got on the train, I should get into town early tomorrow

His phone buzzes with a response about a minute later.

FROM: SHIGEO Ok, be safe! You should try to get some sleep :0 If you tell me when youre getting close, me and Teru can pick you up at the station

TO: SHIGEO Im going to get here pretty early, youll probably still be asleep But thanks You should sleep too, ill see you tomorrow

FROM: SHIGEO Ok, see you!! <3

Ritsu wrestles with his pride for a few moments before sending back a ‘<3’ and shoving his phone back in his pocket.

He lets himself sit for another while, sipping on his drink and grimacing. Eugh. Cheap train station coffee is only tolerable while it’s too hot to taste. Still, he’s spent money on this, so he’s committed now. Night’s fallen quickly, and now when he looks out of his window, all he can see is murky blue, and the vague lights of some buildings in a city off in the distance. They’re just far enough outside of the city that Ritsu thinks he might be able to see the stars, except that the glare from the thin LED strips above the window is reflecting off of the glass too much to see anything but his own face.

A chill settles over the compartment. Not a bad one, or a particularly ominous one, but without the sunlight, the speed of the train and the air conditioning is enough to make him shiver in his thin shirt, reach over to grab a hoodie from his bag.

He shouldn’t leave himself alone with his thoughts, he knows, even as he continues to stare off at nothing. He’s notoriously introspective at this time of night, and he knows he’ll work himself into a panic if he just starts thinking, about this past year and himself and what he even wants to do… He shakes himself out of it. Come on, dumbass. You’ve got ten hours in here, let’s make it past the ten minute mark without dealing with this again. He should distract himself. Read, or play on his phone, or something, but as per usual, he can’t really bring himself to drag himself out of his daze. It’s an oddly comforting feeling, his mind retreating to the point that he barely feels real, like nothing actually exists in the pitch black beyond the window.

Time passes haphazardly, like it’s having trouble squeezing into the stale air of the compartment. His eyes lazily trace patterns on the ugly fabric of the chair across from him for what feels like minutes but could be hours, and despite the caffeine, he finds himself nodding forward, eyes blurring and drifting shut. By the other door, the nondescript businessman has pulled out his laptop and has been typing something for an indeterminate amount of time, and he latches onto the steady tap tap tap tap of the keys, the rapid taptaptaptap when he’s hitting the backspace, turns it into white noise in his mind that blocks out his actual thoughts.

He almost, almost jumps when his phone vibrates in his pocket again. FROM: YOUR FAVORITE ;) yo r u awake

TO: YOUR FAVORITE ;) Yes. what do you want, shou? FROM: YOUR FAVORITE ;) omg why r u up its like fuck in the morning s l e e p anyways teru says ur on ur way back to seasoning u didnt drop out right

He squints at the text, momentarily confused, until a glance at his phone’s clock informs him that it’s almost one in the morning. He must’ve actually fallen asleep for a while. He has a sneaking suspicion that the businessman over there has a very, very close deadline.

TO: YOUR FAVORITE ;) I told you what date i was coming back home a month ago. You know. When i planned this trip. Shockingly, shou, college students get summer break too.

FROM: YOUR FAVORITE ;) i was busy!!!! i forgot!!!!!! how long r u in town :3

TO: YOUR FAVORITE ;) Two weeks. Im just dropping by to see my family and sleep for a while, really.

FROM: YOUR FAVORITE ;) and get a haircut

TO: YOUR FAVORITE ;) And get a haircut.

FROM: YOUR FAVORITE ;) anyways it is like 1 am u should be sleeping

TO: YOUR FAVORITE ;) So should you. I’m on a train, what’s your excuse?

FROM: YOUR FAVORITE ;) :p

Ritsu snorts quietly. Stunning argumentation as always, Suzuki.

He wonders absently if Shou will be around. He’d stayed a couple of cities over for high school, but he’d started travelling as soon as they’d graduated. Apparently, there’d been some overseas business of his father’s that he had to take care of now that he was eighteen, so Ritsu hasn't seen him at all this last year, even during Christmas break. It hadn’t stopped Shou from texting him almost nonstop, however, regardless of different timezones. He wonders if Shou’s even in the country right now. Is it really worth it to get his hopes up, though? He’s already excited to see his brother, and Teru and Reigen, and his parents, so there’s no point in being disappointed if Shou has business elsewhere. They’re not kids anymore, it’s stupid of him to expect Shou to drop whatever obligations or responsibilities he might have to show up in Seasoning City, just to see Ritsu.

His phone buzzes with a new message.

FROM: YOUR FAVORITE ;) hey do u know if ur mom still makes those rlly nice weird caramel cookie things i miss them deeply almost as much as i miss ur dumb face ive almost forgotten what ur angry frown looks like

—

He pauses at the front door, hand resting on the doorknob.

Auras are still… interesting, to Ritsu. Even despite six or so years of being able to use his powers, he still doesn’t really get the buzzing frequencies of energy that roll off of espers in waves, resonating with something in the back of his mind, like plucking on a violin string pulled too tight. He’d eventually gotten used to people’s auras, of course. His brother’s, he’d grown up with. Teru’s was a brainfreeze and a burn all at once, a rush of blood to the head that was strange, but not entirely unpleasant. Shou’s was, well. Shou. He hadn’t realized that places had auras as well. Standing in front of his house, though, he can feel it enveloping him like a blanket right out of the dryer, can feel it in the strange places that his powers seem to manifest, climbing in pinpricks up his arms and heavy at the roof of his mouth, raising the hairs on the back of his neck. It’s achingly, painfully familiar, and it’s only been a year, but he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed living in a place that’s lived and breathed psychic powers, that’s still imbued with them despite both of its resident espers moving out, and this house feels like home.

Mob is on him almost before he’s through the door, arms wrapped tightly enough around his shoulders to knock the breath out of him. Mob is only a few inches taller than him, but Ritsu is still struck with the feeling of being encompassed by his brother, and it feels in a sense similar to the aura of their house, but there’s something different, something uniquely Mob about it.

Ritsu lets himself enjoy it, hooking his chin over Mob’s shoulder so that he can return the hug without getting crushed completely. “Hey, Nii-san, what are you doing here?” He should be at his own apartment, theoretically. After all, it’s not like he has a bed here anymore.

Mob loosens his grip on Ritsu enough to take a step back and look him in the eyes. He beams at him a moment before his smile is dampened a little by sheepishness. “Ah, well. We thought we’d spend the night so that we could be here when you arrived.” Ritsu has a moment to think ‘We’? before Teru appears in the front hallway, weird hair and atrocious green sweater and all. “Hey, Little Brother!” he calls out with a wave, before weaving around Mob to give Ritsu a hug of his own. “Don’t call me that,” he scolds, whacking him on the back of the head even as he’s letting Teru try his damndest to squeeze him to death.

Teru and Mob have set up a fairly impressive pillow nest on the couch, and the TV is still on low volume, the tail end of some competitive cooking show marathon. That was a ‘thing,’ with these two, for some reason that Ritsu couldn’t understand. They just tended to be stupid competitions with stupid people who’d decided to embarrass themselves on television. Mob had told him it was “kind of stressful, but Teruki likes it, so it’s alright,” while Teru called it a “valuable bonding experience”. Ritsu wonders, sometimes, if all people in relationships are this weird, or if it’s just these two.

Once Ritsu has sneaked past his parents’ room and dumped his bag in his (as predicted, completely unchanged) room, he collapses onto the sofa with them, infinitely grateful for a chair that wasn’t actively trying to murder his back. For the rest of the train ride back, he’d had the good sense to shove another hoodie in between his neck and the window, and it had served as a pillow well enough, but God, his neck was killing him. Well, at least he’d come out of it better off than the businessman, who’d walked off of the train with an imprint of a keyboard on his forehead. Teru curls the other end of the sofa and Mob sits in the middle between them, pulling a pillow into his lap. Ritsu flops down with his head on it, scooching around until he’s mostly comfortable.

The silence that falls over the room is drowsy and comfortable, despite the muffled screaming coming from the television set. He knows that when his parents wake up in a few hours, there’ll be a barrage of hugs and wet kisses and questions about his school and his dorm and his grades and his friends, and a thousand other things that had always seemed so important this last year, when they took up every waking moment of his time, but thinking back now, feel so minuscule and pointless, just part of the drivel of everyday life. So for now, he’s content to let his eyes glaze over until the light from the TV fades into a blue haze that fills the room and lulls him into a sense of nothingness. He must fall into that grey area between asleep and awake, because at some point he becomes aware that Mob and Teru are talking, but he only catches snippets, keeps drifting off too much to follow the flow of the conversation. He catches, “-opening up the office this week? Shishou said…” from his brother, and something like “Ugh, please, no,” from Teru. Mob comments at some point on Ritsu falling asleep, and he’s not, not quite, but he’s also not nearly awake enough to dispute the fact. The only time he properly wakes up is when he feels Teru’s socked toes poking his head, playing with his hair. “-have got to cut this,” he’s saying, and his voice is soft and syrupy-slow, so Ritsu guesses he’s not too far off from sleep himself. “I mean, I know he’s got college and everything, but would it kill him to buy a pair of scissors?” Ritsu attempts to respond, but he all that comes out of his mouth is a series of jumbled word-sounds that are half-muffled by the cushion in his face, so he has to take a moment to blink himself awake and reorient himself before he can mumble, “I did trim it.” It’s not his fault if his hair is gravity’s natural enemy. And sure, he could actually get himself a proper haircut in between breaks, but in his defense, he doesn’t have to pay Teru.

“This is it trimmed? I’m actually scared to imagine you growing it out.”

Ritsu makes a noncommittal hmm noise, just for the sake of acknowledging that something was said. He blinks slowly at the wall on the other side of the room, having to take a moment to remember where, exactly, he is. The TV has been turned off at some point, so the only light in the living room is coming from the windows, whatever muted grey light has managed to slip above the horizon and filter through the clouds. It’s not quite dawn yet, Ritsu thinks, but it will be soon. He thinks he could probably get up now, maybe should get up, and weighs the option in his mind. Pros: good coffee and food in the kitchen. Actually being awake at a normal time to talk to everyone today. Cons: this sofa is very comfortable and warm. He manages to make himself turn his head to look up, and sees that above him, his brother is either already asleep, or most of the way there. Listening carefully, he can hear Teru’s breathing shift into something that’s just a little too close to snoring to be conscious. The movement, however small, makes something twist in his stomach and crawl up his throat, the weird sort of nausea that screams too early! Waaaaay too early! Well, if nobody else is awake…

—

He actually, properly, really wakes up to the sound of his mother talking, and the smell of something sweet filling the house.

“Shigeo, close the bedroom doors, or the whole house will smell like cinnamon!” Teru shouts back, “You say that like it’s a bad thing!” and Ritsu hadn’t realized that Teru was still on the sofa with him, so it almost scares him out of his skin. He feels toes poking at his head again, sharper jabs than earlier, and he has to take a moment to admire his brother’s willingness to compromise in a relationship, because really, even on a sofa, who sleeps in their socks? Teru’s voice is gentle when he speaks, as if he hadn’t just bellowed halfway across the house. “Hey, Ritsu, you should wake up. Your mom is making breakfast.” Ritsu rolls onto his back, groaning and blinking blearily at the ceiling as he listens to the distant sound of the bedroom doors shutting. Mob has somehow extracted himself from under Ritsu at some point, because his head is a lot lower than he remembers, and he can hear his voice from somewhere else in the house. Not loud enough to catch what he’s saying, but gentle and distinct enough to identify it as him. His mother’s response is drowned out by the clattering sound of a pan or a pot in the sink, but he’s guessing that Mob must’ve been sent to fetch them, because Ritsu hears, or… wait, no, more senses him approaching. He’s always had a little bit of trouble distinguishing his psychic sense from his physical ones when first waking up. He’s staring, eyes half-lidded, at a little dark speck on the off-white ceiling, so he can only really see a vague idea of Mob’s location as he comes up to the back of the sofa, leaning over to speak quietly to Teru. “Is he awake?” “I think so? His eyes are certainly open, but that doesn’t mean much with him, does it?” Mob laughs softly, more of a quick exhale than anything. “Not really. I’m setting the table. I’ll come and get you when it’s done.” He can’t be certain, but he’s pretty sure that Mob just leaned down to drop a kiss on Teru’s head, so he does his duty as a little brother and makes a face. It’s brattish, sure, and above his maturity level by far. He likes Teru quite a bit, and they’ve had mature, adult conversations in which Ritsu described in precise detail exactly what he would do to Teru if he ever hurt his brother intentionally, but, well. He did just finish his first year of college, so he’s reserving the right to be childish and annoying at least once. He leans his head back until he can make eye contact with Teru and stick his tongue out. Teru, smug bastard that he is, just raises an eyebrow and says, “Ah, I guess he is awake.”

Mob, still leaning over the back of the sofa, beams at him. “Ritsu! Morning. There’s French toast, are you hungry?” He hadn’t really noticed until this exact moment, but holy shit, he is starving. Sure enough, as soon as he steps foot near the dining table, his mother and father are all over him. He manages to get through his mother’s almost violent physical affection with minimal injuries, just by virtue of being much taller than her. His father’s bear hug, on the other hand, is a whole other ordeal. Still, he finds himself sat at the dining table with a plate in front of him, with Mob on his left, and Teru sat on the short end to his right. Despite quite a bit of it being about him, most of the conversation seems to pass right over his head, with Teru and his brother fending off most of his parents’ questions. Most of them seem to be just for the sake of chatting during breakfast, seeing as they already know what his roommates are like, how he likes his professors, and how he did on his finals. His mother had made a habit of calling him at least once every week while he was away, “just to check in”. It always feels like family dinners with Teru and his parents should be unspeakably awkward. Sure, his parents seem… okay with Mob and Teru, at least to their faces, although they seem convinced that either Teru and Mob are just really good friends, or that Mob is eventually going to get over this “phase of his” and marry that nice Takane girl he’d gone to school with. Bad enough that he’s not even going to school, he’d overheard his father say once, without this nonsense on top of everything else.

Still, Teru has something of an irresistible personality, a natural charm that has only grown under Reigen’s watchful eye. A single sentence and a sweeping gesture could enrapture a whole room, and he could talk you out of your life savings and leave you thanking him for it. Turning up the charm for his boyfriend’s parents is hardly any effort at all. Spirits and Such is lucky to have him. Ritsu is certainly grateful for the way Teru sends his parents’ questions flying back at them with a smile, leaving Ritsu to work his way through his toast and gulp down coffee until he feels at least marginally alive.

It also doesn’t hurt Teru’s case that he insists on helping to clear the table, and offers to do the dishes until Ritsu’s mother actually kicks him out of the kitchen.

Ritsu’s still feeling a little hazy; Shou has described jetlag to him, and although he knows it has to do with timezones, he’s starting to think it might also be a general lethargy that comes with travelling long distances. Still, he’s awake enough to thank his mother for breakfast, and walk through to help Teru and Mob to fold up just about every blanket in the house, and put them back in their rightful places. Ritsu ends up with an old fluffy blanket piled in his hands, bright green with little cows printed on it, and he’s already halfway through the door to Mob’s old room before he remembers that there’s no bedroom in here anymore. He squints at the makeshift studio, trying to recall what it had looked like before Mob had moved out. The bed had been by the closet… No, they’d moved it so it was by the window eventually, so he could keep it open during the summer. His desk had been replaced by a bigger one, with an old-looking sewing machine plugged in on top of it. He feels like the room had been so much bigger when his brother had been in it, although, admittedly, he hadn’t had much stuff to fill it with. Now, between the desk, the piles of fabric heaped around the room, the… well, he assumes they’re quilts… it feels cluttered. Unfamiliar, certainly. Where did this stuff even come from? I don’t recognize any of it. “Ritsu?” Mob’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts, and he makes his way quickly back to the living room, pausing to shove the blanket into a hall closet as he passes. Teru starts speaking to him as soon as he’s in the room, even as he’s simultaneously typing on his phone at a frankly alarming speed. “Oi, Ritsu. We’re not opening the office this week, but we should probably head over there later today. That way, you can see Da- uh, Reigen, and I’ll take care of your hair quickly. Get it over with, you know? We can go out to lunch and stuff afterwards.” That last bit strikes Ritsu has odd, said with a tone that’s just barely on-edge,  like Teru thinks he needs some incentive to go out with them. Still, it probably doesn’t really matter. He’s probably just trying to think of a way to get Ritsu to agree to eat at one of the bizarre, alleged ‘restaurants’that he seems to frequent. So, Ritsu sits down on the sofa beside Teru, saying, “You just can’t stand to look at my bangs falling in my face anymore.” Teru neither confirms nor denies, just keeps typing, which is enough of an admission in itself. “Yeah, sure, sounds like a plan. I just need to shower and stuff first.” Teru nods. “Yeah, Mob’s already getting ready. I was thinking we set off in, oh, forty-five minutes?” “Alright.”

[avecorviidae]

Fic: Aubade - Chapter Three

Fandom: Mob Psycho 100 Rating: M Relationship(s): Kageyama Ritsu/Suzuki Shou Word Count: 3934

Ao3 Link

“Did I leave the door unlocked?” Shou’s squinting, nose scrunched up and mouth twisted into a little frown, and Ritsu’s not sure if it’s because he’s actually worried about the door question, or if it’s because a cloud just moved, sending the sun directly into his eyes. It sets his hair alight, with a glare bright enough that it actually hurts to look at. He should move, he thinks, his hair is probably greasy enough that if it gets hot enough, it might actually set on fire. For reasons yet unknown, Shou has chosen to lie face-up on the ground, arms crossed behind his head and feet braced on a nearby low brick wall. Ritsu, who feels no need to spend five minutes dusting various sidewalk bits off of his clothes, has chosen to actually sit on the wall, feet dangling just slightly on either side of Shou’s. He leans forward, elbows on his thighs. “I thought you said you hadn’t been back to the house?” Shou shrugs, which looks pretty awkward considering that his shoulders don’t actually leave the ground, but he gets his point across. “I was talking about when I left last year, actually, but that too. I stopped by the house to dump my suitcase and stuff in the front hall, but I didn’t have time to do anything else. I probably left it unlocked then, too.” The worst part is, Ritsu can’t tell if he’s serious. He wouldn’t even put it past Shou, to leave a massive, expensive-looking house in a questionably upstanding neighborhood completely unlocked for a year while he jumps from country to country handling highly sensitive information related to his maniac of a father. Ritsu has been fiddling with the keychain attached to the lanyard in his pocket, and he thumbs through each key until he lands on the inexplicably cheesy flame-patterned one in between the office key and the key to Mob and Teru’s place. Ritsu barely even remembers acquiring it in the first place, just that it was some time after a magpie had flown off with the key that had previously been on the top of the doorframe. “I still have the spare you gave me, you could’ve asked one of us to go and check that it was locked.” It’s meant to be scolding, but it has about the same strength behind it as someone telling a puppy that it’s not supposed to lie on the sofa. It’s more by rote at this point, than out of any real expectation that Shou will change his behavior. Ritsu realizes that there’s a far more pressing issue here, and pushes himself off of the wall, moving until he’s standing above Shou. His shadow falls across Shou’s face, and after blinking the sun out of his eyes for a moment, Shou beams up at him. “Hey! Pff, you’re just a silhouette. Like an angel, or some shit.” He ignores the angel comment, as much as the irony of it is incredible. He has priorities, here. “Hey. You haven’t showered yet.” Shou snorts, moves one hand from behind his head to pat at Ritsu’s leg. “Aw, are you grossed out by my scary airport germs?”

He kicks lightly at Shou’s shoulder, saying, “Yes, you’ve probably given me like, three diseases. Come on, you’re gross, we’re going to get you in the nearest shower.” He reaches down and grabs at Shou’s wrist, still drifting somewhere near Ritsu’s knee. He gives a tug, but Shou remains limp on the ground, and holy shit, he always forgets that Shou isn’t just skinny, he’s lean, and muscle mass is fucking heavy. He’s reluctant to actually try and drag Shou along the sidewalk, because for one, he’s not five, but he’ll also probably end up dragging him along something mildly sharp, and Shou will whine about the scrape for the next week at least. So, he uses the best weapon he has.

“Your hair is drooping.” In half a second, Shou’s hand has turned in his grip and grabbed his wrist, and he uses Ritsu to pull himself up so quickly that Ritsu isn’t entirely sure his shoulder stays in its socket. Instead of letting go, Shou’s grip on his wrist tightens convulsively, and he looks into Ritsu’s eyes with an intensity that Ritsu usually associates with potentially word-destroying psychic threats. “We’re going.” “Uh huh, I know.  C’mon, your place is too far to walk to, you can use mine.”

Shou whines, “Ugh, fine,” dragging it out into a low groan, but he still starts walking in the direction of Ritsu’s house, shifting his grip so that his fingers slip into Ritsu’s. Ritsu lets himself be dragged along, only mildly surprised that Shou hadn’t pulled away. Aside from the first hug, Shou has been far less tactile than Ritsu had grown used to from him. They’ve still been walking closely enough for their arms to bump, but it’s odd, in comparison to a couple of years ago, when it had felt like Shou was always hanging off of him in some way. Weird. Would’ve thought Europe would make him more touchy, not less. He quickens his pace until he’s walking in step with Shou, instead of having his arm dragged ahead of him. There’s a comforting familiarity to the way that Shou immediately starts to swing their hands between them, although Ritsu reigns him in with a sharp squeeze when he tries to swing ridiculously high. In response, Shou tries to bat him in the face with his own hand, because Shou is apparently exactly seven years old. Their conversation hits a bit of a lull until Shou side-eyes him with a smile that immediately puts him on edge. “So,” he begins, voice light and airy, “I told you about my plane stories. You tell me about your roommates.” Ritsu narrows his eyes. “I told you about them. I’ve been telling you about them all year.” Shou had been oddly fascinated by the concept of student dorms, and had grilled Ritsu for just about every detail he could think of. Shou tilts his head in a so-so motion. “Fair enough. Okay, so there are… three of them?” “Yep. Two bedrooms, four beds.” “Aaaaand Daichi is the one you’re sleeping with?” “Please don’t phrase it like that.” Shou keeps them in that vein for a while, confirming information he already knows. Ritsu isn’t really sure where he’s going with this. More often than not, Shou’s intentions are clear right from the beginning of a line of questioning. He’s not exactly a master of subtlety.  Eventually, though, once he’s squeezed a new story out of him, (Matsuo making coffee out of ground caffeine pills and then not sleeping once for the entirety of finals week, having a conversation with thin air in broken English, and breaking a world record in some online game before finally crashing under Ritsu’s bed,) Shou just pauses, then asks, “Do you actually like it up there?” Well that was… unusual. Ritsu just shrugs. “It’s a college dorm, what do you think?” Shou’s eyebrows furrow, and Ritsu can see him biting at the inside of his cheek. “No, seriously. Like, if you could live somewhere else, would you?” “What’s the point in speculating? Sure, it sucks, Daichi snores and Matsuo plays video games all night, you know this. But it’s not like I can afford an apartment or anything, Shou, I’m broke. As long as I’ve got cheap housing on-campus that I don’t have to pay rent for, though, I can’t really complain.” Okay, now Ritsu really doesn’t see where he’s going with this. Shou’s well aware that Ritsu hates his dorm and his roommates with a burning passion, has essentially been letting Ritsu moan about them for a year now. Shou’s shifting around like he’s got something to say still, but only a quiet “huh” comes before he trails off into silence. Ritsu looks at him, waiting, but Shou says nothing, just looking until they’re forced to break eye contact to avoid bumping into a streetlamp. Well, Ritsu can press him on it later.

-

Teru’s backpack is shoved into a corner near the front door, and Ritsu only feels slightly guilty about rummaging through it until he comes up with the inevitable tube of hair gel. He sticks it on top of the pile of folded clothes on the coffee table and grabs it, carrying it through to the hallway. He shifts it so that it’s balanced on one elbow, freeing up his other hand to rap sharply on the bathroom door. He raises his voice over the sound of running water inside. “Is it locked?” Shou’s answer comes a moment later. “Nah. Promise your parents aren’t home, though?” “Nope, both out.” His mom had left a note on the counter letting him know that she’d gone shopping, and his dad was working swing shift right now, so he wouldn’t be home until late. “Alright if I come in? I’ve got your stuff.” “Go ahead. But no peeking!” Disregarding the opaque blue shower curtain, there’s still too much steam in the bathroom to see much of anything. Jeez, middle of summer and he’s still determined to use up all of the hot water in the country. He dumps the pile on the bathroom counter and grabs Shou’s discarded clothes from their messy heap on the tile, making sure to slam the door behind him so Shou knows that he’s gone. By the time he’s shoved Shou’s clothes in the washing machine with whatever other dirty laundry he could find, the water has shut off, and he can hear vague sounds of movement from the bathroom whenever he walks by. He’s idling on his phone, curled up on the sofa when Shou finally emerges. He hadn’t looked awful before, by any means, but as he throws himself onto the opposite end of the sofa with an exaggerated sigh, Ritsu thinks that he’s looking a lot better. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said that Shou’s hair was drooping, but now it’s damp from the shower instead of grease, and the gelled-up spikes are fluffy looking, feathering in places from how aggressively he tends to towel dry his hair.

Shou would half drown in most of Ritsu’s clothes, but he’d dug through his drawers until he’d found an old, small t-shirt from their first years of high school, and a pair of faded denim shorts that he thinks might have been Shou’s in the first place, left there years ago and then never recovered, sinking to the bottom of Ritsu’s dresser. They come down to just above his knees, so Ritsu can see that his legs are pink from the hot water, matching the sunburn on his face.

He’s sprawled himself out on the cushions, catlike, looking at Ritsu lazily through half-lidded eyes. All he needs is another conveniently placed beam of sun for him to lie in, and he’ll probably just fall asleep. “Anything interesting happen while I was gone?” Ritsu pulls up the messaging app on his phone and hands it to Shou so that he can see the pictures from Teru. They’re poorly lit and blurry, clearly taken in a rush, but their subject matter is clear as day. Reigen is clinging to the large, swinging lamp attached to the ceiling of a warehouse, hanging some twenty feet off of the ground. The only thing clear on his face are the whites of his eyes. Back on the ground is Mob, arms outstretched, clearly trying to coax Reigen back to the ground. Shou giggles in short bursts as he’s scrolling through the pictures, before handing the phone back to Ritsu. Well, he less hands it back, and more just stretches his arm towards Ritsu, shaking the phone at him until he sighs and leans forward to take it from him. Still grinning, Shou asks, “Did they get him down from there? No, wait, correction: did he fall down.” Just as he’s about to answer, Ritsu’s phone buzzes with another text. He reads it to Shou, half quoting and half summarizing. “Not yet… apparently Nii-san is going to try some more, uh, ‘forceful persuasion’?” “He’s going to drag him down!” Shou gasps in delight. Ritsu rolls his eyes, although the mental image of Mob having to psychically pull Reigen down from the ceiling like a spooked cat clinging to a tree branch is… not completely unamusing. How did he even get up there in the first place? The next text is another picture, Reigen flat on his back on the ground, with Mob crouched over him in concern. It’s captioned only “EXORCISM: COMPLETE”.

A few more texts confirm that Teru, Mob, and Reigen will head in the direction of the Kageyama house to meet up for dinner. The exorcism has taken them about an hour outside of the city, and in the meantime, Ritsu has managed to keep Shou’s chronic snacking habit at bay, so they should all be raring to go by the time they arrive. In the course of that, at most two minute conversation, Shou has reached over Ritsu’s shoulder, grabbed the TV remote, and stuck on the single most obnoxious and nonsensical looking soap opera that Ritsu has ever seen. As far as he can tell, the couple on screen are arguing about… dinner? No, the house. Wait, one of them just mentioned an affair. “What… What is this?” He asks, as the woman on the screen begins to sob hysterically, slamming a blender onto the kitchen counter. Shou’s smile is far too satisfied for Ritsu’s liking. “I have absolutely no idea.” “But you’re going to make me watch it, aren’t you.” “Sure am.”

He sighs in resignation, taking a page out of Shou’s book and shifting until he’s more comfortable, head resting on the cushion behind him. Shou kicks at his shin when Ritsu stretches his legs onto his side of the couch, but otherwise doesn’t say anything when they end up a little tangled together in the middle.

The TV ends up being strangely engaging in the way that bad soap operas are, and he finds himself watching the story of the sleazy gambler husband and his cheating murderer wife play out with mild interest, although the intersecting story of the bartender’s struggle to keep his business open is far more boring. He supposes it’s a testament to the format of the show, that it’s probably on its thirteenth season, but two random teenagers can jump into the middle of an episode and still be able to follow along. The storylines are superficial, the characters two-dimensional. Ritsu’s guessing that the couple on the screen are either brand new to the show, or haven’t had their characters change in the three or more years that they’ve been on it.

Ritsu has more of a preference for more in depth, continuity-reliant shows that develop characters and their relationships slowly, with a great deal of thought and care. Still, he supposes this kind of thing suits Shou, a show that he can jump in and out of at any point without needing to sit down and commit to the long haul. Or at least he would be able to, if he wasn’t busy napping. Ritsu isn’t sure when it happened, but sure enough, Shou’s clearly fast asleep, head lolling to the side and eyes shut. Ritsu considers waking him up, but honestly, after the alleged flight from hell he’s had, a few minutes couldn’t hurt him. Actually, he thinks, stifling a yawn into his fist, a few minutes couldn’t hurt me either. Despite the good few hours he’d gotten this morning, the train ride is still taking its toll on him, and watching Shou, all of the exhaustion seems to flood into his body, making him feel heavy and lethargic. They’ll wake us up when they get here. Living in a dorm where the TV was on at all hours of the day has conditioned Ritsu to fall asleep easily to background noise, so it’s simple to let the gentle screeching of the housewife and her husband turn into white noise, though he does make a vague effort to follow the argument, if only because he’s a little bit invested now.

He thinks that he drifts off at one point, but it’s impossible to tell, because the flow of conversation on the TV had been exactly as coherent when he’d been completely awake and lucid. He’s not sure it would make much more sense if he were completely alert and taking notes. He knows he’s drifted off when he feels a hand gently shaking his shoulder, and soft voices in the living room. He forces his eyes open, if only for the sole purpose of glaring at Reigen, who’s got the nerve to be laughing at him, the smug bastard. He pats Ritsu’s shoulder, greeting, “Hey, kiddo. Nice nap?” “Ugh,” he replies, with feeling. Still, he forces himself up, waving vaguely in the direction of Mob and Teru’s voices.

Shou is already sitting up, blinking slowly and scrubbing his hands over his face. “‘Sup, Pops,” he says through an almost obnoxiously wide yawn. Reigen reaches over to ruffle Shou’s spikes, ignoring the disgruntled protests about ‘Not the hair, not the hair!’ Everyone polite refrains from mentioning the fact that Shou’s hair is already terribly messed up just from the way he was lying. “Alright, you two ready to go?” Ritsu and Shou groan almost in unison, although while Ritsu actually stands to leave, Shou just flops backwards, shutting his eyes and playing dead, keeping up the act even as Reigen and Ritsu each grab one of his arms and forcibly drag him to his feet.

-

If there’s one nice thing about being back in Seasoning, it’s that it’s actually making him walk. In Grain City, if something’s not already on campus, it’s a short walk or a ten minute bus ride away at the very most. Ritsu has spent the better part of a year in either his dorm, his classes, the campus library, or the nearby grocery store. He probably doesn’t get out enough, especially now that he doesn’t have Shou hanging around to drag him on meandering walks across half of the city anymore. Back at home, the buses are technically supposed to run on a schedule, but you’ve got a one in three chance of it coming even remotely on time, if at all. Everything in the city is within walking distance, but it’s more of an actual challenge than the building-to-building strolls he’s used to. When Ritsu’s calves start burning, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he’s not getting enough exercise these days. Teru, Mob, and Reigen had broken off from their group about ten minutes back, in order to close up the office and go home. Ritsu was almost sorry to see them go, if only because the sun is finally beginning to set, and Teru’s shirt has a ten foot visibility radius in the dark. Shou’s bouncing along at his side, one arm linked with his so that he doesn’t wander off the sidewalk as he stares up at the sky. Ritsu is being a responsible guide and not getting distracted by the pretty sky, but admittedly, it is quite a night, with the sun painting the sky a glowing red that seeps through the rolling clouds and seems to wash the world in pink.

It’s faded to mostly darkness when they finally reach the house, Ritsu unlocking the door and pulling it open so that Shou can step inside ahead of him. It probably won’t cool down too much during the night, won’t even really reach something that could be called chilly until the early hours of the morning, but Ritsu is still grateful for the slight drop in temperature that had come with the sunset. Shou, on the other hand, is still in shorts and a t-shirt, and has been clinging to him to conserve body heat for the duration of the walk. Shou jumps into the house ahead of him, sighing at the sudden warmth, and idles on bouncing heels in the front hall while Ritsu comes in at a normal human pace, locking the door behind him.

His mother pulls them both into a hug before Ritsu can blink, and then starts gushing at Shou, a flow of conversation that Ritsu barely follows, and judging by the slightly bewildered look on Shou’s face, he’s guessing he’s having a hard time following along too. Still, they make it out with the mutual understanding that even if they’ve already eaten and don’t need dinner, Shou is sticking around and he is staying the night, which Ritsu kind of thought was a given anyways, but was apparently surprising to Shou.

It takes a while of rummaging through various cupboards until he finds where his mom has hidden the spare quilts, and by the time he’s laid out a decent pallet on his bedroom floor, Shou has already stolen one of Ritsu’s pillows and half of the house’s blankets, which he dumps onto the quilts and immediately starts to make a nest. Ritsu watches him as he adjusts, kicking around blankets and circling around like a cat trying to get comfortable, until he ends up flat on his stomach, feet in the air, and chin propped up on his hands. “Oi, Ritsu, you’ve got your laptop, right?” Ritsu tugs his laptop out of his backpack, plugging it into the outlet closest to the nest. “What am I pulling up?” He settles himself on his stomach beside Shou, tapping in his login. “Youtube. The dude next to me on the plane actually bought the in-flight wifi, and he was watching some weird shit.” Shou squishes himself against Ritsu’s shoulder so that he can get to the keyboard, typing in the address, and then a nearly incoherent combination of words into the search bar. Naturally, they get on a weird video tangent that lasts them a solid two hours, until Shou’s hyperactivity has trailed off into quiet exhaustion, and Ritsu is blinking the backlight of the screen out of his eyes for a good couple of minutes after he clicks the laptop shut. Shou rolls onto his back while Ritsu shuffles out of his jeans and puts on some sweatpants and a loose t-shirt. He offers pyjamas to Shou, but he declines, because apparently the irony of getting cozy in every blanket Ritsu’s family owns while still sleeping in denim is entirely lost on him. Even after Ritsu has turned off the light, they both end up on their phones, Ritsu scrolling absently through the news before switching to the Spirits and Such homepage. It’s become something of a blog, since Teru was given social media privileges, to the point that he and Reigen post weekly exorcism tips. It’s a decently interesting read, for a while, although he gets distracted by Shou sending him weird pictures he’s found, even though Shou is literally right there and could show him, instead of just snickering every time Ritsu’s phone goes off. Eventually, the other side of the room goes dark when Shou turns off his phone, and Ritsu assumes he’s going to sleep. Out of nowhere, though, Shou starts to speak. “Hey, Ritsu.” “Hmm?” “I was thinking,” and his voice is drowsy, quiet, but has a pensive edge that makes Ritsu look over even though he can’t see Shou’s expression in the dark. “About?” He prompts, after a few more seconds of silence. “What if you and me got a place together?” “What?”