zabloing

-

"That was the last quarter of the change he had with him.

Beep-Beep-Beep.

The plastic was starting to feel clammy against his right ear.

Two minutes of waiting for nothing. Mob knew it was pointless. This was a ritual that always ended with the same, flatline response for an answer from the man he's loved for a decade: nothing.

Three minutes. He'd visited the office many times than he can count. Still no sign of him. The cheap poster containing his mascot smile as the owner of the Spirits and Such Consultation business was starting to peel along the edges, but it was kept together by the clear tapes that made you think someone was regularly maintaining it because the tapes seem to multiply in numbers with each of Mob's visits. Perhaps out of unspoken sentimentality, Serizawa never removed the poster. Everything else was spotless.

Four minutes. Serizawa had taken over the office. Kept it as timeless as he could over the years, always saying something about 'in case he comes back.' Mob thinks they were the only two people who held hope still.

Five minutes. He placed the handle back with more force than necessary, ignoring the metallic clink. More than once, Mob had debated using his powers to rig the stupid fucking thing.

The irony was a constant pinprick to his conscience. Because of course he'd resort to his powers now. Powers that made him feel like he could control the world around him but was utterly useless since the start.

Because he should've used it. That night, he could've simply gone with what his common sense told him instead of thinking he could handle things properly. A flash of neon lights, a fragrant whiff of spicy perfume, the feel of her lipstick gliding along his jaws. Just recalling the memory itself caused a ripple on the rain puddle outside the metallic box he was currently boiling in.

She'd slipped something in that drink, because Mob couldn't remember agreeing to anything.

He already knew she was after something, he was just too naive; and perhaps a dash too stupid, leaving his drink out there in the open while he went for a bathroom break. Reigen had trusted him to make the right decisions, yet in that moment he had made the stupidest of them all.

He remembered the heat of her, the guilt of it, the pleasure he didn't want but was actively craving because of the drug coursing through his veins. He remembered debating against the instincts that guided his every action to use his powers against her, to drive her away, just like how he was debating on using it now to rig the machine. He never pulled through with it. He'd let it happen; because of course. he was too much of a fucking coward to use his abilities on another person.

He wished that was the worst of it.

"It's gettin' gray out here, kid."

Mob bit into his bottom lip, hands curled into tight fists. He forced his powers down. He shouldn't give the operators something to worry about.

He was greeted by the scent of rain when he stepped out of the metal box. He should hurry back home. Ritsu would be breathing down his neck any moment now.

Ekubo hadn't changed one bit. If he was affected by Reigen's disappearance, the only sign of him ever showing that he cared was how he strictly avoided mentioning Reigen's name. At least not in front of Mob.

"No answer again, huh?"

Mob simply walked past the spirit. His hand fumbled for the box he kept in his pocket. He held the tube between his index and middle fingers and wedged it between his lips, lighting the end of it with a spark of the lighter he carried.