#reigenworld

Reigen's Fantastic World: at Cloud 77 (Chapter 5/5)

“There’s something from last Saturday…” Reigen starts. “Which we haven’t done.”

At his bedside, Serizawa questions, “Conveying my love? My tender desire to offer myself and have you by my side?”

“No, I understood the first time. Uh—”

“Or if it’s the kiss you’re remembering, Arataka.” And at once, Serizawa’s fingers have firmly locked with his, as the esper rocks forth and stands from his chair. Serizawa truly is a large man, thickly bent over Reigen’s bed...

Serizawa over the bed leans in.

“I-I’ll have you know!” Reigen blurts. “I’m a really good kisser. Like really good. Best in the prefecture. I competed at national level.”

Serizawa pauses the briefest moment, acknowledging what has been said. Then he continues—

“If only you saw me in high school,” the con man pipes up again. “At the back of the nurse’s office. The most popular boy in our cohort… Yeah, our school’s idol was absolutely infatuated.”

Every time at the hospital bed, Serizawa stops and checks on the other man, and every time Reigen reassures them both by tugging Serizawa’s tie. Serizawa leans closer. And yet…

“You’re in great hands, reassured. I have more experience than all wives and husbands in this world—”

“Sir,” Serizawa addresses him, in that politely stiff manner halting Reigen because Serizawa hasn’t called him that in ages. “Kindly shut up.”

The con man chokes...

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A post-canon, Reigen-centric fic. This work is now COMPLETE!!

Read the rest here | Or start from the beginning

Reigen's Fantastic World: at Cloud 77 (3/5)

"You know," Serizawa said at his new apartment. "I still have acne at my hairline."

"Hah?" Mandarin juice sprayed out of Reigen’s mouth. "At your age?"

"It’s adult acne."

"Show me."

Mandarin skins shone and pulp strings frayed on the floor… newspapers buckling under Reigen’s barefoot soles as the man bum-shuffled over to Serizawa… their trouser legs crossing, shins contacting at intersecting angles.

(This was Reigen’s first mistake.)

Serizawa swallowed his mandarin. "I already popped most of them."

Reigen crooked his index finger at the start of the man’s dark, short hair curls, coarse with oil. He perused the minute, scabbed scars. He saw the pink tinge pecking Serizawa’s cheekbones and pretended not to notice…

Felt the heat creeping behind his own neck and chose to ignore it.

Serizawa sat. His dark pupils twitched with the lines in his bottom eyelids. "How’s your back… Reigen?"

Reigen considered the question. He withdrew his fingers from Serizawa’s hairline, pressed at the bottom part of his own spine. "AyE ya ya..." The expert masseur clicked his vertebrae in then relaxed, resting his hands between their seated laps, mustering a triumphant line, "Still sore."

Serizawa raised his hairy forearm, his right hand . "May I?" The esper offered.

Reigen’s gaze measured the width of Serizawa’s palm, the fortune-telling marks…

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A post-canon, Reigen-centric fic. Chapters update weekly!!

Read Chapter 3/5 here | Or start from the beginning

In Reigen Arataka’s defence, it hadn’t been his intention to throw his tea at the second boss of Spirits & Such consultations, seances… shiatsu massages… et cetera, et cetera. The pulling back of his shoulder and hurling of the thimble glass in keen trajectory of the human figure had been very much intentional—the hand-eye coordination voluntarily initiated, Reigen admits. But it was the sudden, disturbing appearance of the figure… combined with Reigen’s practised years of striking anything resembling a threat first, that compelled his attack. Not because the thing resembled his colleague, Serizawa Katsuya (in conclusion, please don’t contact Work Health & Safety about this). Nonetheless, the offence is ineffective as the crystal cup now shoots right through the human figure, disintegrating like sand on the floor tiles. No one’s hurt.

(Seriously, don’t report him to WHS.)

“Courteous way to greet your work partner,” Dimple snorts as witness to the workplace incident.

“That’s not actually him, right? Right?” Reigen gawks, sweat crawling behind his neck. “It looks… looks like that curse we expelled from the pop culture store three weeks ago!”

Dimple doesn’t disagree. The man standing before them on the CEO’s office floor doesn’t quite look like a man… more likely drawn by an artistically unstylish mangaka who reduced himself to a mouse and pre-installed paint program. It’s 2-dimensional, a caricature of black, squiggly lines on what could’ve been printed on white photocopier paper to become a life-size standee (Reigen’s nearly convinced it’s a cardboard standee until it ripples as Dimple phases through it). Reigen walks around to examine its other dimensions but it’s like the glitching figure rotates with him—a tiny JPEG file stretched tall, perpetually facing him… only him.

An exceptionally cursed image, indeed.

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(context: Reigen is in a mind dimension where he can imagine anything he wants. The one thing that keeps appearing (against his will) are images of Serizawa.)

a post-canon, Reigen-centric fic.

Reigen glimpses his elaborately furnished rooms through the windowpanes as he passes, clambering up the fire escape… the sound of his shoes and 85 following pairs of shoes hammering the metal stairs. Reigen can’t fix his hair as it tugs at his scalp, blowing in the wind like wildfire. He throws his head over his shoulder. “You’re not making this easy for me, Serizawa!” He calls back at his pursuers.

Saying direct words to the Serizawas.

That’s a first—

The 85 Serizawas collide into each other’s torsos, 85 left hands slapping the railing to steady themselves. In a domino clap, 85 Serizawas have stopped in their tracks.

Reigen halts over 2 steps, turning fully around to gape at the crowd, his suit seeped with sweat.

Serizawa responds to being spoken to… responds to reason.

OF COURSE, he does. When he’s got a cool head, the real Serizawa can be 1 of the most reasonable people out there. If these apparitions emulate their original in more ways than broad masculine shoulders and lusciously thick, dark hair curls, Reigen can persuade them to cease this hour-long hunt using cool logic.

A war with words. Reigen always wins those.

Reigen’s sweaty shirt chills his back. Reigen gulps. “Following someone out of MobDonald’s, through the cosmetics mega sale and up a fire escape is no way to approach them,” he contends from the top of the steps.

The 85 Serizawas listen intently, their 85 pairs of incomplete ovals for eyes gazing up at Reigen from below the steps.

“I get it,” Reigen says. “You’re all awestruck by my utter fame and professional success in this world… on top of my alluring charms, in general…” He swallows again. “But the best distance to watch someone, to look at celebrities you see shining like stars… is always from afar.”

Serizawa Katsuya at the front of the emergency staircase crowd brays.

Like a horse. Then he stoops on all hands and legs and bolts up the steps, the rest of the copy-and-pasted apparitions shortly following. And Serizawa Katsuya on the ground is charging from all streets and window fronts, bodies assailing at roads and intersections and all Serizawa-faces are fixed facing Reigen Arataka… their dotted pupils pinning Reigen Arataka with the same flaring determination as gun lasers.

Reigen screams, fearing for his hypothetical life in this hypothetical city. He screams for the equivalent length of 12-pack triple-A batteries.

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(in which Reigen is inside his own mind dimension and has to deal with... things he feels towards his colleague.)

Chapters now update weekly!!

Read Chapter 2/5 here | Or start from the beginning

Like Mogami arc but it's Reigen inside the mind dimension, and he can imagine anything he wants + whatever he wants appears in the dimension...

The one thing that keeps appearing is Serizawa.