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The echo of brisk strides gliding along linoleum flooring barely nicked the worries crowding and scrambling about in the interior of Reigen’s mind as he sat stone-faced amid a line of empty chairs, chairs that seemed to await the restless souls of the living to gravitate toward their secure embrace. They flanked the long and narrow halls of the hospital in an almost human eagerness, as if expecting to bare the weight of grief and fear from weak-minded people at a moment’s notice.

The coffee placed in the vacant seat beside him had long since lost its warmth. In spite of his best efforts to drink the coffee he’d so humbly accepted to control the tremors taking hold of his hands, Reigen had failed to give the styrofoam cup so much as a single glance the second he’d placed it to the side. The minutes continued to tick by, but by the time memory of his coffee left on standby tantalized his tongue he realized with an air of disappointment that he’d left it untouched for far too long, and that the heavenly-scented stream of steam once dancing merrily to the ceiling above from within the cup’s sealed confinements was now but a distant memory.

Not that he’d have the stomach for it anyways.

A rather inappropriate amount of thudding against the floor drew Reigen’s attention upward. He’d nearly forgotten that Serizawa had tagged along with him until the air around him tingled with an odd sensation and the towering, wide figure of his slightly hunched coworker came into view.

He’d nearly forgotten Serizawa wasn’t highly acquainted with larger bulks of people yet either.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Reigen-san.”

The sound of crinkling alerted Reigen to the bags of chips gripped in Serizawa’s hands.

Reigen forced a smile, a smile not so unlike the one he used to fool people into believing his questionable business practice.

“It’s fine, really,” Reigen replied. “Wasn’t planning on going anywhere anyways.”

Reigen snapped a finger in the direction of the chips. “What kind did they have?”

As if having forgotten himself, Serizawa fumbled for the bags and settled when his gaze found the flavors of each, his shoulders sagging almost dejectedly. “Uh… sorry. They didn’t really have much except potato and shrimp. I wasn’t sure which one you liked, so I… kind of guessed.”

Neither option sounded particularly appetizing at the moment. Nevertheless, Reigen said, “Okay. Which bag do you want?”

“Oh!” Surprise flashed in Serizawa’s eyes. “Well, I don’t really have a favorite out of the two, so whatever’s fine by me. What about you?”

“Doesn’t really matter. I can settle for either.”

That didn’t seem to subdue Serizawa’s hesitance in the slightest.

Heavily, Reigen sighed. “Okay, okay. Guess I’ll pick first.”

Reigen hovered his hand close to the shrimp bag, watching closely from his sitting position as Serizawa’s face shifted visibly upon seeing his employer’s intended path. Feigning a contemplative hum, Reigen moved his hand toward the potato chips. Serizawa’s features relaxed.

Deciding to put an end to the (amusing) shirade, Reigen dragged the potato chips free from Serizawa’s hands before leaning back against the hospital chair. He proceeded to rip them open, leaving them exposed to the clean air swirling about.

Serizawa took up the empty seat next to him and proceeded to tear open his own bag with haste, digging into the strange-smelling contents as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks.

After what seemed like a year’s worth of silence, Serizawa stole a glimpse of Reigen’s untouched chips and the far off look in his employer’s eyes before swallowing down the remnants of shrimp-flavored chips scratching his tongue, clearing away stray crumbs from the corners of his lips with the back of his hand.

Leaning forward ever so slightly, Serizawa peered curiously at his employer and asked, “Is everything okay, Reigen-san?”

The mere question was enough to break down the wall of defenses Reigen had tried so hard to keep up, though he refused to admit to it as he gave a half-hearted chuckle and raced fingers through his bangs.

“I don’t know. Is everything okay, Serizawa? Is it? Because it sure as hell doesn’t seem that way.”

Thoughts of stumbling down the bustling streets with Serizawa in tow filled his mind. The thundering stride of their steps colliding and pounding and mercilessly stampeding across hard, gravel-covered cement in unison deafened his ears. It took every ounce of energy he had left in him from the laborious run not to recall the sights of buildings and cars and people whirling past him in a blur, the sounds of vehicles roaring down the street and people speaking amongst themselves or shouting above the noise, the taste of bitterly cold air against his tongue, the feeling of the early spring wind whipping across his face as sweat trickled down in a torrential downpour over his skin, as he sank further and further into the hole that should have dented his chair from the weight of it all.

He couldn’t believe what was happening until Mob’s contact lit up his phone, and the voice of someone he’d known only in passing answered instead of the quiet, monotone voice of the boy he’d known for what felt like ages.

“Kageyama-kun’s in trouble! He’s just been hit by a car!”

“It’s my fault, isn’t it?” Reigen didn’t wait to hear Serizawa’s answer. “None of this would have happened if I’d just...“

When Reigen and Serizawa arrived, the Kageyamas had long since gone back to see their son before the doctor pulled them aside to fill them in on what had happened. A generic-looking girl came rushing in not too long after, asking to see Mob as soon as possible --could this have been the girl Mob was talking about?-- and with permission granted by the family, she managed to see her way through to the room without complication.

Reigen and Serizawa, on the other hand, were neither immediate family nor familiar to the Kageyamas enough to grant them access to Mob’s room. And so, with much reluctance and frustrated grumbling slithering between clenched teeth, Reigen decided to sit back and wait for the doctor to make an appearance, pulling Serizawa along for the ride, lest he be stuck by himself with no company to keep his anxiety at bay.

Only, the doctor hadn’t made a comeback for quite some time, and deep in the back of his mind Reigen began fearing the worst.

It was enough to drive him mad.

Reigen bit down on the inside of his cheek until the taste of copper coated his tongue. “What kind of dumbass hits a kid crossing the street...? What kind of dumbass gives the worst advice to a kid and lets him leave with just that?” He snorted, disgruntled, and dug dulled nails into the cuffs of his shirt. “I should have done something. Why the fuck didn’t I do anything?!”

“Reigen-san,” Serizawa said, holding Reigen’s arms tight as he tried to meet his gaze, “It isn’t your fault… You- you couldn’t have known what would happen. Nobody could!”

Reigen closed his eyes tight and turned away, blatantly refusing to look Serizawa in the face, refusing to succumb to the fact that he felt vulnerable and defenseless and completely and utterly useless in a situation he’d never asked to be part of.

“That’s easier to say when you haven’t known the kid as long as I have,” Reigen spat under his breath, feeling his every word stab into the pit of his stomach as he spoke. “You don’t know how many times I’ve let him down, how many times I’ve lied to him, how many times he’s still had confidence in me despite everything…

“You have no idea what kind of shit I’ve put him through, and how much of that shit he never deserved to deal with on his own when I’m the one who’s supposed to be the adult!”

For a moment, silence choked the halls surrounding them. A few stray passersby stared in puzzlement before quickly skittering away to allow them some privacy. Serizawa’s hands remained firmly placed around Reigen’s arms, only now they seemed to squeeze tighter as a sort of hard rigidness surfaced from the man lowering to kneel in front of him.

The tightness forced Reigen’s eyes to snap open, but before he could protest Serizawa started speaking, low and stern.

“You’re right. I don’t know what the two of you have gone through together. I don’t know the kinds of things you two have gone through on the job and after. I don’t know any of what happened before I came to work for you, but I do know one thing--

“-- it’s not your fault what happened to him today, and it’s never been your fault.”

“But--”

“You might be an adult compared to him, but you still think and act like a child! You made some mistakes, you did things you shouldn’t have done, you said some things you probably still regret, but that doesn’t make you a bad person.

“If there’s anything you’ve taught me so far, it’s that anyone can change if they really try! It’s not too late to be the kind of person you want to be! And if you think you’re still to blame for all this, then I might as well be to blame for it too, because I was there with you when he talked to us about the girl he liked and I told him he should go after her.”

“But…” Reigen had long since tuned out his brain to listen to his employee’s tirade, but never did he expect to hear something he might say to Mob from someone like Serizawa, especially not two days in a row. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why do you think you did?”

If Reigen could open his mouth, if he could think of anything to say back, he was sure that no words would leave his lips.

Had the doctor not suddenly appeared from behind closed doors, Reigen would have sat there in shock for eternity, gawking at Serizawa as if his coworker had sprouted a second head.

In an instant, Reigen motioned to the doctor making his way through the hall and shot to his feet, Serizawa following suit. Racing down the hallway unison, Reigen called out, “E- excuse me! Oi, you’re Mo-- Shigeo’s doctor, right? Kageyama Shigeo?”

The doctor came to an immediate halt, swiveling around on the heel of his shoe. His eyebrows furrowed, suspicious. Though he didn’t appear an unkindly man by any regard, Reigen still felt the air around them go tense upon catching sight of the doctor’s serious gaze.

“Yes?” the doctor replied. “Are you friends of Kageyama-san by any chance? Relatives?”

“Uh, well, we’re more… business acquaintances than anything,” Reigen hesitated, after a moment’s thought. “We came as soon as we heard about… what happened. I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

After a quick once over of either of their persons, the doctor smiled politely. “I’m afraid we’re still trying to figure that out ourselves. But, from the looks of it, he should be fine. He’s asleep right now, but we’re keeping an eye on him in case he wakes up so we can run further tests.”

“He’s… going to be fine?”

“Reigen-san?”

Silence.

“Alright then. Thanks for letting us know. We’ll be on our way.”

“Reigen-san?!”

“Then, if you’ll excuse me…” With that, the doctor vanished from sight, swallowed whole by a group of newcomers speed-walking frantically down the hall.

“Reigen-san? Are you okay?”

It had been an hour since they left the hospital, though Reigen hadn’t spoken since. It was enough to leave Serizawa feeling worried, all things considered; it wasn’t everyday Reigen wasn’t wildly flapping his hands around and prattling on about everything and nothing all at once.

A moment of silence.

Nothing.

He tried again. “Reigen-san--”

“You know, I think you’re hanging around me a little bit too much.”

“E-eh?” What’s that supposed to mean…?

Reigen stopped dead in his tracks, and without missing a beat threw an index finger in Serizawa’s line of sight, nearly jamming it straight up his nose if he hadn’t been startled to an immediate halt. “Reigen--”

“AH-TUT-TUT-TUT! LISTEN! Didn’t you hear it?!”

“Uh, h- hear what...?”

“THAT! You did it again!”

“EH?!”

“We seriously need to consider getting you some time off, Serizawa. You’re starting to sound like me by the day. Do you know how creepy that is?! In this world, there’s only to be one greatest psychic! The universe can’t possibly handle two of me!”

“What are you talking about?!” Serizawa nearly yelled, incredulously.

“OI! IT’S GETTING WORSE ALREADY! We’ve gotta do something about this, fast!”

If Serizawa wasn’t practically melting from the sweat pouring down his face and pooling underneath his armpits, he would have stammered out another quick remark before the inevitability of his cries would arise, never being truly heard. Swallowing thick, hard lumps of panic down his throat, Serizawa tightened his fists at his sides--

--and let out a cry at the hand that slammed good-naturedly against his back.

“I’m just kidding!” Reigen exclaimed, his body shaking from head to toe with unbridled laughter. “Well, kind of… Geez, you’ve really got to lighten up!”

Serizawa blinked rapidly, trying his hardest to process the events that had taken place, but failing to play catch up with everything that had happened. “...Then, why are you--”

“What? Can’t a boss thank his employee for going above and beyond to do something, even though he had about as much context to go on as his boss?”

“I’m not sure I follow, Reigen-san.”

Laughter gradually subsiding, Reigen released a puff of air before turning away, rubbing the back of his head in a rapidfire, awkward motion. “Geez, I really gotta be more straightforward with you and Mob, don’t I?” Reigen said, though judging by his tone Serizawa could tell he meant no real harm in the question. “I just-- I wanted to say thanks. For everything back there in the waiting room. You didn’t have to come with me, you didn’t have to say anything to assure me that it wasn’t my fault, but you did, and I guess I appreciate that.”

Serizawa suppressed a smile as Reigen continued their stroll back to the office, the sun hovering just over the horizon as the sky became doused in various hues of reds and oranges.

“So, about that, ‘kind of kidding’--”

To say his hands were clammy would be an understatement.

It was a wonder how the umbrella handle remained so steady and firm in his grip when, in spite of his own wishes, the palms of his hands were coated so thick with sweat, slick and slippery, hot and sticky, that he dreaded the worst as he strolled through the torrential downpour of Seasoning City, the wind in tow and the puddles splashing beneath the soles of his shoes.

It wasn’t anything he hadn’t dealt with before, really; he’d more than earned his fair share of stray observations from random passersby, had stolen fleeting glimpses of silent judgement sinking into a stranger’s assessment of his person but never having heard anyone voice these thoughts aloud. There was no shame in admitting that his salesmen persona, hell, his regular self even, came with a hitch all its own-- clear skin forever riddled with gleaming sweat. Not that that made eyeing and acknowledging other’s scrutiny any easier, but he digressed.

Nevertheless, he’d soon discovered that these sweaty mishaps only seemed to get worse in the presence of others. Or, more specifically--

“Ah, Serizawa! I didn’t think you’d make it out of there so soon. Things going okay?”

Scrambling to a haphazard stop, Serizawa briskly nodded and readjusted the schoolbag now swinging precariously around the crook of his elbow, the raised suit jacket shrouding his head pinned down by the heavy droplets pouring from the skies above. “Yeah. Everything’s fine,” he replied between breathless pants, smiling. “Just an early dismissal.”

Reigen chuckled. “Well, it’s a good thing you came out as fast as you did then. I don’t think I’d have it in me to hold this thing any longer if you stayed in late.”

With a flourish, Reigen brandished the umbrella in the direction of his companion, motioning for the man to step under.

It didn’t take long before Serizawa humbly accepted his offer, ducking beneath the shelter of the umbrella before relinquishing the soaked fabric of his suit jacket from its duties.

As they strolled along side by side through the streets of the city, throwing about playful banter and wordy conversations, Reigen couldn’t help but draw his gaze back to the two opposing hands now mutually interwoven around the umbrella handle, taking in every minimal detail, every curvature, every line and indent, of Serizawa’s much larger hand in comparison to his own.

The pigmentation of Serizawa’s skin was slightly darker than his. Even with the dark clouds that soared overhead, blocking out any strand of sunlight that dared seep its way through the dreary atmosphere, Reigen could tell that Serizawa’s skin would not change tints in different lighting. The faint hairs coursing along the surface of his skin were nothing in stark contrast to the darker, finer hairs twisting and curling over the back of Serizawa’s hand, and for the first time Reigen became intrigued by their differences. How he hadn’t noticed these subtle contrasts before was beyond him.

You think you’d notice those kinds of things by now.

But he didn’t.

The warmth emanating from the other’s hand also became an object of intrigue.

Reigen hadn’t even considered the fact that this particular warmth was something he was all too familiar with. The welcoming tendrils weaving loosely around his wrist, the cautious lapping before the final plunge blanketing his skin-- it was ethereal and chaotic all at once, gentle and rough, soothing and powerful.

It possessed the ability to bend and break the energy around it at will, it relished in its strength and feared no one in its wake, yet refused to act on the abilities harnessed in spite of the surge of power that lay ignited and waiting at the end of its very fingertips.

Power meeting serenity.

Reigen was fully aware of its capabilities. He knew the feeling all too well, knew the kinds of blessings and curses that came along with it, knew how peaceful it could be before the bitter reality sat in and reared its ugly head, leaving destruction and chaos in its wake.

Yet, somehow, the warmth coming from Serizawa always managed to feel different than the type of warmth he’d been accustomed to from Mob.

Reigen almost forgot he was staring until Serizawa’s voice broke through the haze and reminded him to walk with his own two feet.

“--looks pretty nice, even though it’s raining.”

“What?”

“The clouds. They always look nice, even when it’s raining, don’t you think?”

A moment or two passed before Reigen’s mind caught up to the question at hand. “Oh…! Yeah. I guess they do still look pretty interesting when the weather’s shit.”

If his observation gauged a reaction from Serizawa, Reigen didn’t wait long to see. Nervously, almost shyly, he rubbed the nape of his neck before flapping his free hand in the space beside him. “Uh, so, hey! Here’s a crazy idea: how about we hold hands?”

Serizawa’s eyes stretched wide as saucers. “Hold hands?”

Reigen immediately regretted his decision. “N- not like that! I- I mean--!”

Shitshitshit! He could practically feel Serizawa’s eyes burning into his skull.

“Y- y’know, to keep the umbrella steady! You’ve been making it sway around like crazy this whole time.”

Serizawa’s steps seemed to falter at that, as if taking a moment to consider the truthfulness of Reigen’s words, before realizing that the umbrella was indeed swaying, just as Reigen had said, and grew sheepish. “O- oh! Oh! I’m sorry! I didn’t even notice--”

Fuck, that was close.

Reigen suppressed his amusement at Serizawa’s awkward fumbling and pat his shoulder reassuringly. “It’s fine; really, it’s okay. I was just messing around, that’s all.”

“O- oh…”

A pause.

The tips of Reigen’s ears began growing hot, and he coughed and spluttered in his hand as a means of distraction from the overwhelming feeling inching its way into his chest. He prayed Serizawa hadn’t noticed.

“A- anyways… It’s easier to carry the umbrella if we have our hands around each others, so if you want to, we can do that to keep it steady. Don’t pressure yourself to do it if you don’t want to, though.”

“O- okay.”

The immediate contact of skin on skin sent shivers down his spine. Within seconds, Serizawa’s hand engulfed his own, and Reigen was suddenly reminded of the sweat coating his palms and squeezed his fingers tighter around the handle in an effort to stave off the moisture threatening to leak through the crevices of his fingers.

If Serizawa could feel the sweat through their clasped hands, he certainly didn’t acknowledge it aloud as he guided Reigen’s attention back to the road that lay ahead with a slight tug on the handle.

Serizawa’s body stiffened at the sudden sensation of fingers skimming through his hair, unfamiliar fingernails dragging gently across the length of his scalp as russet curls danced and flattened in unison to allow safe passage for the dexterous digits combing their way up and about the unkempt mass that was his head. Something within him seemed to snap to attention, and without thinking Serizawa whipped his head around to pinpoint the perpetrator behind these strange actions.

Except, when curious eyes followed the line of the stranger’s appendage upward and locked with a dull chestnut gaze, the hairs on his neck spiked (along with every other miniscule object in the room, though more so with gradual ease and less detection from the owner of said-objects than he previously anticipated). In spite of the way Reigen’s hand meticulously maneuvered through Serizawa’s hair, the man himself appeared unfocused, almost entranced by whatever silent reverie wove his every train of thought; if Serizawa didn’t know better, he’d assume Reigen had no idea what he was doing.

Nevertheless, Serizawa was quick to brush away the thought with a small shake of the head, swallowing hard before raising his voice amid the proverbial silence enrapturing his employer. “Uh, Reigen-san…? Is something wrong?”

Now, in all his time working alongside Reigen, Serizawa never knew the man to be jumpy, much less frantic and lost in his own little world, but here he was bearing witness to the very thing he never imagined he’d live to see-- Reigen completely vulnerable in his own environment, utterly dismantled and sweating profusely (a lot more than usual, Serizawa couldn’t help but note) as his eyes practically bugged straight out of their sockets and the hand placed on Serizawa’s head twitched and immediately snapped back to his side in rapid fire succession.

Loudly, Reigen cleared his throat, visibly fighting off the downpour of perspiration glimmering on his forehead and the slightest tinge of red dusting across his cheeks.

“Shit, don’t scare me like that! How long have you been sitting there anyways? What time is it? Why is everything so wet--?”

“Reigen-san, were you just… touching my hair?”

If Reigen had been ready to go off on a blind tangent, he’d surely shut himself up now. His mouth opened and closed faster than Serizawa could follow, his lips pulled tight in a forced smile, eyes flickering every which way as if to avoid looking in Serizawa’s general direction.

“Uh, yeah! I, uh, I was just… You see, there was a bug and-- well, you know, I hate bugs, I really do, and, uh, I was trying to…” He trailed off, leaving his jumble of words incomplete but not once daring to meet Serizawa’s probing gaze, lest he find himself even further in trouble than what he already was.

Already, the atmosphere was taut with tension, the nervous wringing of hands threading themselves together only solidifying the obvious discomfort that had befallen Reigen. The air was electric with it. Not even Serizawa’s aura could amount to the weight pressed around them, thick as ice and impossible to cut.

For what felt like an eternity, Reigen and Serizawa sat in silence. While it seemed like Reigen’s mind was leafing through every possible excuse to weasel himself out of this awkward predicament, Serizawa’s mind was scrounging around for ways to bring the topic back into light without driving his skittish employer away; it was plain to see that directly tackling the subject head on wouldn’t work.

So, Serizawa tried a more vague approach. “I trimmed it down myself this time. The hair, I mean; it’s not as good as what you could probably do with it, but I think I did a pretty decent job for a first try.”

To his relief, Reigen seemed to break free of his flustered shell, if only a little. “Oh, really? Huh. I didn’t even notice it grew back again… That’s, uh, wow. Good job; it looks great.”

Serizawa perked up, his hand subconsciously drawn to the top of his head as a smile spread across his visage. “Really?”

Reigen returned the smile before gesticulating wildly, flashing Serizawa a thumb’s up. “Yep! Couldn’t have done it better myself! Good on you, Serizawa. You’re really making your way into society.”

“Thank you,” Serizawa said.

Reigen nodded swiftly in response.

Without another word, Reigen turned his attention away, and Serizawa watched with newfound interest as Reigen cupped his chin and leaned back against the couch cushions, eyelids pressed shut as his nose scrunched up. A deep exhale deflated his chest. Serizawa patiently waited for Reigen to contribute more to their conversation, but received no further indication of the man’s desire to return to it.

Instead, Reigen shot forward and slammed his hands hard on the coffee table, rattling the tea placed upon its surface and startling Serizawa to a rigid stillness.

“Okay! Fine! You caught me! I was touching your hair, okay?!” Reigen exclaimed, his lips moving faster than they could keep up with as he thundered on without a moment’s pause, “But I didn’t know I was doing it until you said something! I wasn’t trying to be weird or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about, but I was doing it without thinking and after I sort of realized it myself I just… I kept going because you didn’t say anything and it didn’t look like you minded.... I mean, you obviously did mind it I guess, if you ended up mentioning it out loud-- b- but that’s beside the point!

“Listen, I’m probably making a bigger deal out of this than it really is, so just take all this with a grain of salt or whatever. I don’t care what you do with it. You can either forget it or keep it to yourself. All I’m doing is clearing things up so it doesn’t get awkward, okay?” Reigen jabbed an almost accusatory finger in Serizawa’s direction. “I’m not a weirdo or anything, alright? So, don’t go blabbing about it to anyone. The last thing I need is for someone to find out about this and think I’m some kind of pervert.”

“Y- yeah... Sure,” Serizawa replied, nodding.

Reigen sighed heavily. At last, his shoulder’s slumped and his expression loosened. “Okay.”

Taking back his place on the couch, Reigen ran a hand through his bangs before breathing out a more quiet sigh, leaning into his palm as his body hunched forward. “Sorry, sorry. I shouldn’t have freaked out like that. I’m sorry.

“It’s not a big deal, but I kinda blew up and dragged you along for the ride anyways, didn’t I? I’m sorry. I just-- I was thinking about how your hair felt the last time I cut it, and I wanted to see if it really felt the way I thought it did.”

“... And?”

Reigen looked up, flushing faintly. “Uh, well, it. It did, I guess. No surprise there. Pretty anti-climatic. Kind of a dumb thing to think about now that I hear myself saying it out loud.”

“No,” Serizawa said. “I mean, what did it feel like to you?”

Reigen was caught off guard, if the stiffness of his figure was anything to go by. He averted his gaze instantaneously and let out a strained laugh. “It felt like hair,,” he replied with forced nonchalance, pinwheeling a hand in the space between them as he went on, “Like I said, it wasn’t really worth the fuss; it felt like how I expected it would, and now we can put this whole thing behind us and pretend it never happened!”

Although Serizawa doubted the legitimacy of his employer’s claims, he decided it was probably best not to press any further on the matter. After all, Reigen was still his boss, albeit them being on rather familiar terms with each other and becoming more along the lines of casual friends than merely coworkers.

Rising to his feet, Serizawa gave Reigen a quick once over before offering a friendly smile and a stammered, “O- okay. Then I guess I should get going now.”

“Oh! Right, right,” Reigen replied, coming to stand alongside his co-worker with a placid grin. Awkwardly, he gave Serizawa a pat on the back. “Wouldn’t want you to be late for night school and all that. It’s time for me to start closing up anyways.”

“Reigen-san?”

“Eh?”

“If you need anything... feel free to call me. I have a free period for study hall that I normally use to get my homework done, but I’d be more than happy to talk to you if you’re not busy with anything.”

Surprise blossomed over Reigen’s face. “Oh. Uh, yeah. Sure. I’ll, uh, I’ll do that then. I guess. Thanks.”

The twinkle in Serizawa’s eyes brightened. “Okay then. Talk to you later.”

Shortly after Serizawa’s departure, Reigen found himself dragging his hands over his face, his back pressed into the door as his body slowly lowered itself to the floor. Sweat was beginning to bead across his skin and roll down in salty rivulets, though the fierce scarlet scorching his cheeks had become more bothersome than the sweat itself, easy to mask but impossible to hide.

With an unsteady breath, Reigen wove clammy fingers around his mouth and swallowed back the elated noise threatening to surface from the fluttering recesses of his chest, his mind racing as blood pumped through his ears.

Fucking Hell… How does he get his hair to feel like that? It’s like petting a dog!

No, there was more to it than that, so much more. Serizawa wanted to call him. He wanted to talk to him over the phone during his free period. He wanted to call him.

His hands were visibly shaking.

Even with the vice grip he kept around his lighter and the pack of cigarettes concealed in the palm of his hand, Reigen feared the worst of the situation, was dreading the possibility of losing a handle on the lighter the second flame met air; it was the last thing he needed, the last thing he wanted to deal with right now-- but then, when had he ever passed up the option of screwing everything up?

A single flick was all it took to bring the flame to life. Scrambling, Reigen dove his fingers deep into the recesses of the pack until a cigarette emerged from its depths. The box fell free from his grip, toppling to the floor without so much as a hint of acknowledgement from its previous holder.

He only caught the tip of his finger once before swiftly lighting the end of the cigarette and pocketing the lighter for later use, his nerves settling but his mind racing. Slowly, Reigen brought the cigarette to his lips, taking a deep drag of the toxic cloud filling his lungs and burning the walls of his throat before finally exhaling, watching through half-lidded eyes the string of smoke whisking its way to the starless void above.

Silently, Reigen grinded his teeth.

 Fucking shit… !

Reigen couldn’t recall the last time he’d gone through three packets of cigarettes in one day, let alone in his own office where customers came and went as they pleased, where Mob--

-- where Mob would have been, had he not left Reigen to pick up the pieces of their previous fight. No, had Reigen not overstepped his boundaries and let his mouth run as it pleased, knowing good and well what was to come, but not being prepared in the slightest for the defiant outcome that came to be.

I screwed up big time. I screwed up, and now I'm suffering the consequences.

And yet, he couldn’t help but sneer at the implication that this was in any way HIS doing and his alone to bear the burden of in Mob’s absence. Mob had certainly played a role in it, Reigen was sure of it. Whether Mob shouldered the blame himself or not, Reigen knew that he was not a lone criminal without an accomplice. He wasn’t the only one involved in this, and he refused to take all the credit for it.

Besides, Reigen had been getting along just fine without Mob, hadn’t he? It wasn’t like three years ago when he’d met the kid and was on the verge of closing shop before Mob gave him the push to continue on with his business; it was different.

Different, though, rarely ever did mean better.

Reigen knew that things had only gotten worse and would continue to get worse from here. There was no sugarcoating it, no covering it with pretty words and pretending as if nothing was happening when in all actuality he knew all too well the rising tensions crashing and splitting the world around him straight down the middle, of the tightrope swinging precariously beneath his own two feet, threatening to unwind at any given moment.

It was nothing like three years ago, because three years ago didn’t land him on national television and put him directly in line of the public’s scornful scrutiny. Three years ago didn’t expose him to the world as a fraud, a fake, a cheat, a liar.

Three years ago had become all but a memory Reigen so desperately wished to crawl back to, because quite frankly, he didn’t know how much more of this he could take.

Another deep inhalation, and a darker puff of smoke came to meet its unseen companions in the dead of night.

Reigen ran his fingers through his hair. “I can’t do this,” he hissed to himself through clenched teeth. “I can’t live like this.”

It felt wrong-- Hell, everything felt wrong, who was he even kidding? There was no sense of solace he could take from this. There was no comfort or assurance he could gain from the ever-reviving habit of smoking, from the silence pervading his every living space that he once knew as home.

It was a risky move-- that much Seto knew for certain. It was risky in the sense that he could get caught, that his ploy would be exposed before he even had a chance to start, that his target would discover his motives and immediately dodge the oncoming hand, ultimately sealing the green-clad teen’s fate for a relentless teasing that was sure to come of it later on. The fact in itself only caused his uncertainty to grow as his hand hovered near the back of Kano’s jeans, too afraid to plunge the appendage into the course of action he wished to take, too nervous that he may or may not get caught before the motion was set through. And yet, in spite of this, Seto urged himself onward, venturing near the waistband of the blond’s jeans, fingertips tiptoeing around the circumference of the leather belt before carefully slipping his fingers through, praying for the opening to be big enough for his hand to slide into without delay, praying for his hand to go undetected until the deed was done.

Only when a gasp of surprise slid past Kano’s visage did Seto feel brave enough to thrust his hand into the recesses of the blond’s jeans without hesitation, calloused palm eagerly cupping around his boyfriend’s rear, giving the cheek a deliberate squeeze, eliciting a strangled squeak from Kano as his body jolted in response to the unprovoked touch. In that same instance, a shiver of delight bolted up the length of Seto’s arm, pure, unadulterated impishness ricketing his spine, pounding through his veins, and igniting like starlight in his gaze. He hadn’t expected Kano to be so loud; it was exhilarating in a way, hearing that sound being forcibly exerted from his throat, stifled at the last second by tightly woven lips so as to avoid the noise from being overheard by those surrounding them. The thought of having that squeak resonate through the air yet again made his heart leap.

No sooner had he begun pondering this did Kano’s attention steer away from the conversation at the table, golden irises darting to the side, fixating upon the raven like a deer caught in the headlights, eyes wide as saucers and expression briefly betraying the bewilderment and heat skittering across his cheeks before vanishing in the blink of an eye. For the faintest of heartbeats, Seto was certain that Kano would say something, that Kano would expose his mischievous deeds without so much as a single ounce of remorse in his being, and that everyone gathered around the table would realize just how ‘innocent’ he really was. However, as fast as that overwhelming dread had surfaced, the feeling dissolved within a matter of seconds, leaving the lanky teen far more perplexed than scared as his eyes probed for some form of explanation from his unusually silent boyfriend.

The scent was as clear as day, the smell permeating his nostrils and invading his lungs in a way that made his stomach churn. It weaved through the threads of his clothes, sunk into the far, unexplored depths of his head and nestled its odor-y self between his naval passages without so much as a moment’s consideration toward the one being affected by the smell, savoring every second in which he writhed silently in overwhelming agony and held fast to fleeting breath so as to avoid the stench from invading his lungs any further. Overall, the fragrance streaking through his airways was not, in fact, a pleasant one, though he didn’t dare breathe a word of this to the one wreaking of this vile stench, lest he ruin the warm atmosphere the two of them only just conjured up upon his partner’s return home. There was but one question he posed for the taller as he squirmed at his side, arms looped around the green-clad teen’s waist, head burrowing into the crook of his neck, and that question swam around as vaguely as the blond could manage.

“Seto, did you have to work around animals today...?”

A flash of excitement, of puppy-like mirth swarming in honey-colored eyes, flourished around the edges of his gaze as Seto swiveled his head to the side, his face breaking into an unfathomably dopey grin as he replied cheerily, “Oh, I forgot to tell ya-- I got to handle the dogs today! I groomed ‘em and played with ‘em until their owners came to pick ‘em up!” And then came the real question, the curious inquiry aglow in Seto’s irises, the question that Kano had been anticipating all along but not the one he felt particularly excited about asking, “Whyddya ask? I don’t smell bad, do I?”

A pause met by sheepish silence.

“Huh... Maybe I shoulda cleaned up after all...”

“Eh, no-- It’s... not that bad...”

“So, I do smell?”

“I wasn’t saying you smell--! I was just-- I mean, I was only wondering why it smelled like wet dog in here... B- but I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear!”

Frantically, Kano delved into his mind in the hopes of scrounging up something better to say, something nicer, something less awkward, but to no avail. Just when he figured he’d dodged the question he wanted to ask but couldn’t bring himself to ask, Seto was undeniable, living proof that there was no avoiding the inevitable, and that in the end it was all on Kano’s shoulders to diffuse the uncomfortable scenery before it swelled into something much worse. 

However, rather than fighting it with panic-induced excuses and fumbled apologies, Kano went for Seto’s hair, and began ruffling the messy tangle of raven-black locks atop his head without warning, trying his best not to show the slightest bit of hesitation when reaching out to give the other an affectionate head rub as a small smile gradually creased his features.

Confused blinking ensued from the other end of the ongoing action. A light color dusted across Seto’s cheeks, going slightly unseen even beneath the lighting of the ceiling fans hanging above, his smile faltering, his lips opening partially before pressing together in a tightly-woven fashion; it was plain to see that the gesture had caught him off-guard. The fact in itself only went on to produce a few scattered chuckles from Kano as he combed his fingers through Seto’s hair, digging his nails gently into the taller’s tender scalp. “I guess you only smell like wet dog because you are one,” Kano said. 

“Huh? What’s that suppose to mean?”

“Nothing~ Just that you’re like a big dog, and you smell like one, too.

It was a game with no true objective, a game with no set rules, a game with no ulterior motive geared toward achieving a long forgotten triumph-- and yet, somewhere along the line, it became quite clear that Kano was proving to be the ongoing victor of this child's play, pinning his helpless victim firmly to the spot with no means of escape, leaving his wriggling, squirming prey in failure's wake as rising success rang proudly through the air, storming the seven seas, showing little to no mercy to those who dared to oppose its strength.

The powerful resonance of the bell echoing amid the hollow interior of his head, the pure, unadulterated surge of the bell’s vibrations banging and crashing against the walls of his mind was like an orchestra of music to his ears, flattering deafened eardrums with the blinding rays of vibrancy racing across his skin, radiating from his veins in insurmountable waves of pleasure and wreaking havoc throughout the thundering beat pounding against his chest, hurling itself into his ribcage without so much as a single care for its own well-being, answering the call of its host’s vast array of emotions, exhibiting little to no signs of letting up while the muscle’s pulsation remained forcefully intact. It mattered not that there was no official goal in sight, for whom the bell tolled reared not its ugly head in Kano’s direction, but in the face of none other than his opposer. That in itself was enough to bring the blond a great deal of satisfaction, fueling his ego to the highest degree, energizing the motions of his spritely toes as his smile elongated, much to the growing discontent of his red-faced hostage seated just across from where he himself perched, silently fingering through the deck of cards placed upon the coffee table as innocently as one would leaf through the pages of a stray magazine, mischievous actions going completely amiss to the world around them.

To his opposer’s “unmentionables,” Kano’s actions couldn’t be anymore obvious; it was plain to see that whatever act the blond was committing beneath the table went on to gauge a series of reactions from his unfortunate captive. However, to the eye of those gathered around the coffee table, his actions continued to go unnoticed, practically nonexistent to the unsuspecting onlookers loitering around the table for the sole purpose of playing a fun game of cards with the apartment’s occupants. It was almost a shame that the same couldn’t be said for a certain raven-haired teen who was struggling enough as it was to keep his composure steadily intact, face aflame with heat, lips tightly woven in a perpetually shaky line in a sorrowful attempt to evade the sounds clambering at the tip of his tongue.

He almost felt bad for making the raven so hot and bothered, but to be perfectly fair, Kano really was only hoping to return the favor from a previous night’s self-indulgence, beings that the boy seated before him more or less had his fill of sending the blond’s nerves on the verge of unrelenting ecstasy. Now it was Kano’s turn to have a little fun, and he wasn’t about to pass up a good opportunity when said-opportunity presented itself to him on a silver platter.

“Seto, are you okay?” Kano heard Mary pipe up from beside the raven, trying his hardest to bite back the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as feline irises flickered over to the individual in question, feigned curiosity alighting golden optics, eyebrows furrowing to reflect his sudden puzzlement after closely regarding the dark tinge of color scorching the teen’s complexion, his own tone lazily drawling out each and every syllable that came to leech its way free from upturned lips.

“My, my, you don’t look so good~ Are you sure you’re not getting sick? We could always check your temperature, y’know~” As he said this, Kano’s toes curled in, wiggling their way around the eager bulge in the crotch of Seto’s jumpsuit, eliciting an audible but quiet whine from the green-clad teen. He smiled. “Better safe than sorry, don’t you think?”

Her heart was born anew when she swept the medusa into her arms. She could hardly contain her excitement nor her overall enthusiasm as she eagerly pressed her lips against Mary's own, pure ecstasy lacing through every motion, every breath that came to pass in the space between them, the kiss (fortunately) being returned without fail, awkward and clumsy at first, but gradually morphing into a mixture of warmth and tenderness unlike any Seto had felt before. In that moment, the ravenette was in the prime of her happiness. No matter whether Mary had seen the mistletoe herself or not, Seto was more than willing to hoist her into a kiss regardless, the feeling of her light body weighing down in her arms sending waves of giddiness through her system, filling her heart with unabashed delight.

No sooner had their lips parted did Seto rub her nose playfully over Mary's, giggling as the petite girl flushed faintly but brimmed with smiles, brushing away strands of stray white hairs clinging to Mary's face using the underside of her thumb, cupping her cheek in the upturned palm of her hand.

Eyes half-lidded, pools of honey-colored hues warming with fondness, Seto used her hand to tilt Mary's head at a slightly better, more accessible angle, whispering amid the peaceful tranquility, "Merry Christmas, Mary."

A flurry of white blinded her vision then, obscuring her view of the events unraveling before her very sights until all had settled and everything transcended into a refreshing downpour of clarity. When she finally managed to see what had transpired in front of her, the daunting realization that Mary had locked lips with her settled in, and in a flash, her cheeks flared, eyes growing wide as her heart flopped in her chest.

Before she was given time to react, Mary's lips retracted, her own palms coming into contact with Seto's heated skin as her mouth allowed the gentle passage of her words to flow freely in the space between them. "Merry Christmas, Seto.