Chapter Text
Reigen hadn’t experienced true empathy in a while. He was the type to not let other people’s emotions get in his head. If he let their feelings get to him, he wouldn’t be as successful at his conning as he was. But watching his former student standing before him, clutching a wilting sunflower in his hand, tears in his eyes at being denied by his childhood crush, Reigen felt sorrow wash through him at an intensity he wasn't used to. To be fair though, he’d been more emotional these past ten minutes than he’d ever been in his adult life.
Letting out a breath, Reigen wrapped a hand around Mob’s shoulders loosely. And with a few encouraging words of comfort, he lead the discouraged middle schooler through the wreckage, exiting the scene.
--
Mob holds the single flower to his chest. His heart is beating fast, and his eyes are still dripping with tears. He can’t push the emotions down, they are overflowing and pouring down his cheeks like buckets without his consent. It is just like when he was at 100%, but also different because he feels in control, calm. Not like he is going to tear a school apart brick by brick or level a city. That is good, he figures.
Reigen is going off, as usual, spouting some nonsense regarding how now he will have an excuse to not drive. Mob isn’t really listening. That isn’t anything unusual though; Mob normally tunes Reigen out.
The city is much worse off than he had expected. Buildings are crumbled, split in half or lying on their side in the middle of the broken road. Cracked asphalt is spread across their path and they have to take large steps to maneuver over the havoc. Part of the road is too messed up and Reigen has to lift Mob up in order to get past.
There are people lying in the grass on the path, Mob notices, and for a terrifying moment, he wonders if he killed them. But then he looks closer and sees that they are uninjured and breathing. Some of them are stirring, some sitting up and rubbing their heads with confusion as if just waking up from a dream.
“They’re okay,” Reigen says suddenly, snapping Mob out of his thoughts. “Your friend -- that Hanazawa kid -- protected them with his telekinesis, I heard. They must just be waking up.”
Hanazawa.
Mob’s chest aches hearing his friend’s name. It had been Hanazawa’s persistence that had woken him up from his comatose state in his own body. The first thing he had seen was Hanazawa kneeling before him, minuscule in the face of his power. Bruised, bleeding, shaved, and naked. But still…
“I am…Kageyama’s…rival!”
Mob rubs the freshly forming tears from his eyes at the memory, weakly attempting to repress his feelings of guilt. Hanazawa had endured so much to save him and had used the last of his power to protect the citizens of Seasoning City so that at the very least, Mob wouldn’t have to stress over their safety. Mob had been ready to give his life if that meant his rampage could be stopped. But Hanazawa hadn’t hurt a hair on his head. He really has grown a lot since the first time they’d met.
Mob knows Hanazawa still struggles with resorting back to his old, prideful ways, but it’s moments like these that he is proud of his friend for how far he’d come. Hanazawa may not have become a different person, but he has changed.
“Do you know where Hanazawa is?” Mob asks Reigen, struggling to push down his worry. The last time he had seen him was lying passed out in the middle of the road.
“He’s fine,” Reigen assures him. “He’s back at my apartment.”
“Please take me there,” Mob mumbles.
Reigen looks at him for a moment, pensive. Then he nods.
--
They run into Serizawa on the way back. He is standing smack in the middle of the broken road, holding Reigen’s shoes with both hands while tears fall silently down his face. When he sees Reigen and Mob coming, he falls to his knees as if his legs had just given out. It was like the only thing keeping him standing was the fear of Reigen not returning.
Ever the emotionally constipated bastard, Reigen gives Serizawa a little wave as they closed in on him, cheerfully saying, “Yo! Thanks for holding onto my shoes for me.”
Or, he would have, had Serizawa not risen to his feet in a flash and engulfed Reigen in a crushing hug. Arms pinned against his sides, Reigen squawks in surprise.
Mob watches on with a small smile on his tear-streaked face.
It takes a little longer than it should have to walk to Reigen’s apartment, mostly because they have to keep taking detours from blocked off roads. Reigen opens the door to his apartment, immediately stripping his ripped-up suit jacket and tossing carelessly onto a table in the middle of the room.
Hanazawa is lying unconscious on the living room couch. He is wrapped in a blanket from the shoulders down, covering his body, and several pillows propping up his head. His injuries haven’t been tended to yet, so it’s very easy to see how wounded he really is. Scratches cover his face and run down his arms, dried blood beginning to settle into his skin. His neck has begun to turn a garish purple color in the shape of tightly grasped fingers. The worst wound, however, seems to be his left eye. Blood is dripping from his lower eyelid and an even darker bruise is beginning to blossom around its rim. His torso and legs are wrapped in a blanket, but it’s clear he still doesn’t have clothes on.
Mob surges forward, but Reigen holds him back, a hand on his shoulder.
“We found him lying in the middle of the road, unconscious,” Reigen says quietly. “He needs rest.” He looks over at Serizawa, who is hanging his own suit jacket on a coat hanger. “Serizawa, the kid’s looking a little worse for wear. Mind checking him out?”
Serizawa nods and goes to the closet for a moment, returning with a medical kit. He begins softly rubbing Neosporin onto one of Hanazawa’s scratched up cheeks.
“How did you find him?” Mob asks, unable to tear his eyes away from the scene.
“He’s actually the reason we were able to find you,” Reigen admits. “He called me while Serizawa and I were in the office, rambling about you losing yourself and needing help.” He scratches the back of his head. “He didn’t sound...quite right. When I asked him what was wrong, where he was, he kept insisting I go after you. I didn’t realize he was in pain until he passed out in the middle of the call. Serizawa had to use his powers to track him down and carry him back here.”
It’s hard to listen to. Mob had known he’d messed Hanazawa up pretty bad, but hearing about it makes his heart clench. He grasps the flower to his chest again, feeling his hands trembling against the stem. With all the crying he’s been doing, Mob isn’t sure he should expect any more involuntary tears. Anxiety, however, spreads through his entire being like a virus, making a home in his trembling hands and beating heart.
A hand places itself on his head. Mob looks up at Reigen, eyes sporting an almost wild look.
“He’ll be fine,” Reigen says confidently, waving his free hand around wildly for a second before settling on a thumbs-up. “He’s a tough kid. I gotta get him some medicine though. Knowing him, he’s sprouted a fever.”
Mob forces a small smile. Reigen is right, Hanazawa has been through a lot in his life. One lost battle won’t keep him down, it’ll just make him a little sick from the sharp drop in ego. At that, the hand on Mob’s head ruffles his hair around, messing it up, and then lifts back off as Reigen heads for the kitchen.
Taking the risk, Mob glances back over to Hanazawa. Serizawa has bandaged up a good portion of his exposed skin by now. The gauze is all over his body, from his face to his chest to his feet. There is a patch over his bleeding left eye now. Mob averts his eyes.
Keeping his gaze off Hanazawa, Mob makes his way over to Reigen’s lounge chair, slumping onto it with a tired huff. The feeling of the flower’s stem rubbing against his palms has suddenly become too much. He drops the flower onto the table next to his arm, unable to take it anymore. He turns to look out the window at the wrecked city. Reigen’s glass window has a few cracks working up it. Outside, he can see the rubble of what was once the main road sticking up in the air at weird angles. A few police sirens can be heard in the distance.
Even though Mob knows the police alarms aren’t coming for him, his heart rate spikes at the sound, as if they were. Is there a chance that he had been recognized by a newscaster, or even reported by an eyewitness? The body improvement club had recognized him. Had anyone else? Mob winces at the thought.
Ritsu, Suzuki, Musashi... and anyone else he’d fought and hurt before regaining consciousness. They all knew it was him, and he’d hurt them.
With trembling hands, Mob pulls out his phone. He has to tell them he was okay. He has to tell them he hadn’t meant to hurt them. He has to tell them how incredibly sorry he is.
It takes a few minutes, but eventually he manages to send a text to his brother, telling him where he is and that he is okay now. The reply is instantaneous, overjoyed and relieved.
Not for the first time that day, Mob is eternally grateful he didn’t hurt his brother.
He doesn’t have the courage to message Musashi, but he would eventually. Just not right now. Maybe once he got back into school he’d give the former president a call. It was the least he could do for his behavior.
A static sound catches Mob’s attention. Serizawa has finished fixing Hanazawa up and turned on Reigen’s old-fashioned television. The channel is on the news.
“--blocked off, no one is allowed to drive until the roads have been repaved,” the woman is saying. “In other news, the following schools are hereby closed until further notice: Miso Middle School, Doubanjiang Middle School, Yuzu Pepper High School, Salt Middle School, Noodle Soup Base Middle School, and Black Vinegar Middle School. Back to you, Tengan.”
“Thank you, Yamamoto,” the man says. “Several eyewitnesses have reported seeing an obscure figure making its way through Seasoning City--” An image of Mob in his other form is shown, in the middle of a tornado. “--however, this figure’s identity is still unknown.”
“Ah, sorry, Kageyama,” Serizawa apologizes, grabbing the remote. “I can change--”
Mob holds up a hand. “No, that’s alright.”
A clip of Touichirou is shown, with the anchorman’s voice narrating over the video, explaining how the government sent in its imprisoned espers to take care of Mob. Suzuki is shown for a brief moment, a little fuzzy and super far away on the video footage, but still recognizable from the prison outfit. The clip then switches over to one looking down from high above the city where Mob is seen as a small black mass of energy throwing what looked like a blond boy around from building to building. It’s too much. Mob covers his face with his hands.
“Hey, Serizawa, how’s Han-” Reigen begins as he re-enters the room, stopping when he sees Mob. Sighing, he places his hand on Mob’s shoulder. Mob tenses under his touch and Reigen sends Serizawa a pointed look.
Serizawa nods quickly and turns off the television.
Reigen doesn’t say anything more. Instead, he pulls a chair over to the couch, next to Hanazawa’s head. There’s a bottle of medicine with a spoon in his hand. He also has a sloppily prepared sandwich on a plate with him.
“How is he?” he asks Serizawa.
“Not much better than before,” Serizawa says solemnly. “His eye is pretty messed up, I’m hoping it doesn’t impair his vision. I've wrapped his neck with an ice pack, but I'm not sure what else to do there. His breathing seems to be fairly normal, though, so I don't think his windpipe was injured. There’s also a huge bruise on his back that concerns me, like he was slammed into a wall or something. He'll have to have an x-ray done to make sure that he didn't injure his spine.” Mob winces. “It's hard to tell, but his leg might be broken as well. We should prop it up on some pillows.”
“I'll try to get in touch with a doctor,” Reigen says, nodding seriously. "Moving him probably isn't a good idea, with the state of his injuries, and it might be hard to get someone to come out here with the city the way it is. We'll need to be prepared to treat him here if worse comes to worse."
Reigen reaches over and shakes Hanazawa’s shoulder gently. “Hey, kid, wake up.” Hanazawa winces, mumbling. He shifts, turning his head away from Reigen’s voice.
“Get up, brat, or I’ll make raw oysters for dinner,” Reigen scolds. He dips the spoon into the bottle of medicine, scooping out a generous amount.
Hanazawa lets out a low groan, but turns back over. Using his less injured arm, he pushes himself up sluggishly, blinking sleepily at the man leaning over him.
“Why would--” The second Hanazawa’s mouth is open, Reigen shovels the spoonful of medicine down his throat.
"Gack--!!" Hanazawa wheezes, forcing himself to swallow the repugnant liquid. He’s well awake now, glaring at Reigen. “I can do that myself!” he complains angrily. “I’m old enough to take my own--”
Then, Hanazawa’s eyes meet Mob’s.
Absolute silence washes over the room. Hanazawa’s cheeks are flushing red and his hands are clenching the couch cushion. Mob, on the other hand, feels like he’s going to burst into tears all over again.
“Hanazawa--”
“Kageyama--!”
Mob covers his mouth, face burning. Hanazawa, on the other hand, lets out a relieved laugh. Mob slowly lowers his hand at the sound of Hanazawa’s laughter. He certainly hadn’t expected that reaction.
“I’m glad to see you’re okay,” Hanazawa says sincerely, “I was really worried. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to save you.”
“No, no,” Mob says instantly. “You’re not the one at fault here! I’m sorry I hurt you...again.” He averts his eyes. “You went through so much to stop me. I’m indebted to you.”
Hanazawa shakes his head back and forth wildly, so wildly in fact Mob worries he’ll give himself whiplash. “Not at all! I’m the one who's indebted to you for...everything I did,” Hanazawa says earnestly. “It was the least I could do after you forgave me for my past actions.”
“You’ve worked so hard to change,” Mob says matter-of-factly. “It would be hypocritical of me to not forgive you after all the mistakes I myself have made.”
“I don’t know about that,” Hanazawa chuckles, “but I won’t argue with you.” He smiles, eyes softening. “I am glad you’re okay. You’re an important friend to me.”
Warm feelings swirl in Mob’s chest and he smiles broadly, forcing his eyes to crinkle. He’s once again reminded how grateful he is to have a friend like Hanazawa. He notices color flushing into Hanazawa’s cheeks, but doesn’t think anything of it.
“Hey, do you know what is important to me?” Reigen asks suddenly.
A little surprised at the interruption, Hanazawa turns. “Wha--?”
Reigen shoves the sandwich in the kid’s mouth. Hanazawa chokes, coughing and pulling it back out.
“You getting the nourishment your body needs,” Reigen finishes firmly. “You lost a lot of blood, idiot. You need to eat.”
Hanazawa grumbles, but does as he’s told, stuffing the sandwich back in his mouth reluctantly. Once he starts eating though, it seems to suddenly hit him how hungry he is and he devours it.
A bubbling feeling wells up in Mob’s throat. Confused, he tries to suppress it, but that causes him to gag. He grasps at his throat, wheezing, bewildered at what’s happening to him. Hanazawa’s head whips around, eyes wide with worry.
“Kageyama?” Hanazawa tries to get up, but then cries out in pain and falls back down. He winces, holding himself and groaning.
“What are you trying to do, dumbass? Have you seen the amount of injuries you have?!” Reigen chastises, flicking Hanazawa’s forehead.
Mob is already rushing over, coming to his knees next to the couch. His hands wrap around Hanazawa’s warm fingers. The moment he does, Mob feels that swirling and tumbling feeling in his stomach expand, and his heart begins to beat a painful tattoo against his breast. He must be having anxiety from Hanazawa’s outburst, he reasons.
“Are you alright?” he asks, clinging to Hanazawa like a lifeline. Hanazawa doesn’t have the chance to answer, however, because suddenly there’s a knocking on the door.
“An actual visitor?” Reigen mumbles to himself, getting up with a grunt. He answers the door, swinging it open to reveal a very sweaty and scuffed-up Ritsu Kageyama.
Before Reigen is given the chance to open his mouth, Ritsu is pushing the man out his way, crying out, “Shige!” through choked sobs.
Mob’s head snaps around, his entire face lighting up like the sun. “Ritsu!” he gasps, stumbling to his feet.
The brothers crash into each other, arms wrapping around the other with an intensity that could crush ribs. The force of Mob’s weight knocks Ritsu backwards so that he stumbles back out into the hallway. He would have tumbled over if Mob didn’t have such a powerful grasp on him.
Mob buries his head into Ritsu’s collarbone, a shaky smile on his lips. He feels like he can finally breathe. Hanazawa is going to be okay and Ritsu is here and unharmed. He tightens his grip on the back of Ritsu’s gakuran, shivering. His eyes are squeezing so hard shut he can see stars behind his eyelids.
“You’re being unusually emotive, brother,” Ritsu observed, resting his chin on Mob’s shoulder. “Is everything alright? You're not hurt, are you?”
“I’m better,” Mob replied, voice muffled against Ritsu. He pulls his face away, meeting his brother’s eyes, smile bright. “I'm so much better now.”
Hanazawa smiles at the scene, happy that the brothers can experience such a heartwarming moment. However, he can’t help but pull the hand Mob held to his chest, munching on the sandwich pensively.
Ritsu pulls away, staring Mob down determinedly. Or at least he tries to. The uncontrollable tears just make him look terribly concerned.
“Brother, what happened to you?” Ritsu asks seriously. “Why did you… What made you lose control of yourself like that?”
Mob’s gaze drops to his feet. “Ritsu... I think I died.”
No one in the room had been talking, but somehow after saying that, the silence becomes deafening. Everyone is staring at Mob, eyes wide, waiting for a further explanation. Reigen’s trying to look casual, but he isn’t hiding his horror very well. Hanazawa looks haunted, jaw dropped and eyes round. Serizawa has stopped in the middle of his bandaging, hands frozen and gaze unmoving. Ritsu looks like he can't remember how to breathe.
Mob feels a physical pressure weighing down on his head from each set of eyes burning into him. Sweat trickles down the back of his neck and he wipes it off desperately with his hand, hating the sensation. Everything has suddenly become too heavy, too tight. Mob steps away from Ritsu, needing more space. Ritsu looks stricken and pulls his hands back into himself.
“I…” Mob says slowly, softly, trying to recall all of the events proceeding his rampage. “I was on my way to, to see Tsubomi. I picked up a bouquet of flowers... Minegishi gave me a huge bouquet. I was so, so happy.
“There was a pedestrian crossing. I was waiting to cross. A cat was there, and...a car.” A phantom pain on the left side of his head begins to throb and he reaches up to cover it. “I acted. I saved it.” Mob brings his hand back down, staring at it, studying the lines in his palm. His hand begins to tremble. “But, behind me, a boy playing a game. He had headphones. He wasn’t looking, and, and another car…”
Ritsu’s hands cover his mouth. “You... Brother...”
“I pushed him,” Mob says, hugging himself. “I ran and I, and I pushed him. I don’t remember after that. I don’t know if… I might have saved him. I don't know. I don’t remember.” He clenches his eyes shut. “I hope…he’s okay.”
“I’ll look up any news reports,” Reigen says immediately, scrambling to get his laptop.
“I, I don’t remember anything after that,” Mob continues as if Reigen hadn’t spoken. “Just waking up to Hanazawa kneeling in front of me, and, and me not being in control anymore. And, and you, Ritsu, and... Tsubomi… It was me, it was all me...” It’s too painful. He can’t continue. "I didn’t... I hurt...” He opens his eyes to look at Hanazawa with glistening eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m-- I’m so sorry, I…”
“Don’t you dare be sorry,” Hanazawa says back with an intensity that makes Mob’s heart leap. He looks deadly serious. “I won’t accept an apology from you; you have nothing to apologize for. I confronted you because you’re my friend, and I would do it again and again no matter the risk.”
Mob feels his chest swelling with an unrecognizable emotion. He bows deeply, tears dripping from his eyes to the floor. “Thank you, Hanazawa…,” he manages to say through quiet sobs.
Hanazawa scratches his neck with his good arm, a little nervous. “You really don’t have to thank me either,” he says. “I’m really just…. This is what friends do, right?”
Mob leans back up, wiping his eyes and sniffling. “I, I…” He can’t get the words out. He doesn’t really know the answer anyway, though.
Putting oneself in danger of losing one's life for the sake of a friend... Is that normal? But...yes, of course. Everyone had been so ready to do exactly that for Mob. The body improvement club, Ritsu, Hanazawa, Dimple, Reigen... They'd all been there to stop him. And of course, Mob himself had done the same for them so many times.
Ritsu steps closer, reaching up to take Mob’s hands away from his eyes, cradling them with his own. “Brother, it’s alright. It's over now.” He squeezes Mob’s fingers warmly. “How did Takane take your confession?”
“She rejected me,” Mob says quietly. Saying it out loud makes him want to burst into tears again. How many times has he cried today? Is this what it's like for everyone else? "She said that she's never seen me that way."
Ritsu sighs, but he doesn't look surprised. “Ah, I see... So it goes.” He lets Mob’s hands go to hold his shoulders firmly. “Don't worry about it too much, Shige, you'll find someone else! Plus, you can focus on yourself now. Getting fit, using your powers, getting good grades... Where's the fun in any of those things if they're all to make someone like you?"
After a quick, shaky breath, Mob smiles in response. “You're right. And... and I’ll be okay, soon,” he says. “I-I’m hurting now… but! That’s okay. I’ll be okay.”
Proudly, Ritsu pulls Mob in for another hug, arms wrapped tightly around his older brother’s torso.
“By the way...” Ritsu says after a minute, voice muffled against Mob’s gakuran. “...did you happen to see the face of that driver?”
Mob glances down at his brother’s face. There’s fire in his eyes. Mob begins to sweat.
“I must admit, Kageyama, I have to agree with your little brother on this one,” Hanazawa speaks up. When Mob turns around, he sees the same fire in his friend’s eyes. Mob sweats harder.
“No, no, no,” Mob says frantically, waving one of his arms. “I didn’t think to, but even if I had, I wouldn’t help you track him down! That wouldn’t solve anything.”
Neither Ritsu nor Hanazawa look convinced, but they concede anyway.
“Alright, well, this has been an experience!” Reigen finally speaks up. “Why don’t you kids lighten up a little? Let’s watch a movie or something.”
Hanazawa brightens up at this. “Can I pick?” he asks hopefully.
“Sure, since you’re our crippled guest,” Reigen says, waving an arm dismissively. “What do you want to watch?” He holds up a few DVDs. “I don’t have that many options.”
Hanazawa attempts to sit up using his hands, but fails, palms slipping and falling back down. Mob rushes over to the couch and puts an arm around Hanazawa’s back, supporting him. Ritsu does the same on his other side. They view the list of movies together.
“These all suck,” Hanazawa says with a flat expression. “Let's do this one, since it has a cool cover.” He leans into Mob, who has taken a seat beside him.
Reigen puts his hands on his hips. “You sound like the kind of kid who likes talking about how bad a movie is instead of actually watching the movie.”
“I’m definitely not that kid.”
He ends up doing exactly that.