Chapter Text
He is a liar and a coward.
Serizawa swallows thickly as he holds Reigen’s gaze. His boss-turned-best-friend-in-the-world is looking at him with an absolute trust, his picture-perfect business smile just about reaching his eyes. He thinks with a fondness pooling deep in his gut about how often Reigen’s smile softens when it’s aimed at him, the mask slipping carefully to reveal a fragility and an uncertainty.
It makes him feel all the worse for what he’s about to do.
“Uhm.” Serizawa tugs at his tie, his eyes now darting to the tips of his shoes. He clears his throat guiltily, feeling both the clients’ and Reigen’s eyes on him. “This place is… very much haunted.”
It isn’t. If he wasn’t as anxious as he is now, his aura would just be smoothly rippling under his skin. There’s nothing here apart from him.
Maybe he’ll be pulled up on it, he thinks, maybe Reigen will narrow his eyes questioningly and he’ll clear his throat again and come clean…
But that’s all it takes. Reigen gives him a silent nod, before spinning on his heel back around to the worried owners of the inn they are standing in.
“Oh god.” The woman draws her hands to her face. She nods at her husband. “We told you.”
“Have no fear, ma’am.” Reigen placates with a smooth tone and a shiny grin. “We’re professionals.”
The pit in Serizawa’s stomach grows as he aches with the amount of blind trust Reigen must have in him.
“Yes,” Serizawa manages to choke out.
He can’t believe himself.
He never thought he’d be selfish enough to trap Reigen in a situation like this.
Their trouble started a few days back.
It had been raining all day – bad for business, Reigen tuts, burying himself in whatever his newest hobby or business proposal is. Serizawa stays busy making tea and tending to the office plants, until he huffs to himself and decides to crack on with homework.
The rain is pleasant. Serizawa has long enjoyed both the sound and the feeling of it on his skin – a reminder of how large and powerful the natural world could be, and how necessary to life all of its functions are. It is a small comfort he recalls from even his youngest years. A reminder. A way to ground himself.
Serizawa crosses the room and opens a window, sticking his head out to feel the droplets on his face. His eyes flutter shut, and he inhales the sharp smell of wet concrete and dust. His breathing deepens; his shoulders drop, a modicum of the usual tension leaving him.
He turns and closes the window only to find Reigen watching him with a strange curiosity on his face, unusually open and unguarded. It seems like he’s searching for the right words to ask a question, but it’s one he cannot phrase.
Of course, it’s then that the telephone rings.
Reigen jumps, his expression morphing into what Serizawa affectionately calls his “business call face”. He takes great pleasure in trying to work out the call contents simply from the dramatics that Reigen undergoes throughout his conversation – full-on epics enough to rival Beowulf, with all the acting skills of the campiest of telenovelas.
God, he’s got it bad. Serizawa bites the inside of his cheek and forces himself to turn back to the window before Reigen notices him staring.
He glances over once more as Reigen leans back in his chair, twirling the phone cord coquettishly. He notices him staring now, and flashes one of his fast, sweet, genuine smiles, the ones that always catch Serizawa off-guard and make him feel like a hot knife is twisting in his gut.
His aura surges, burning off the raindrops off the window pane he’s leaning up against. A sharp frown gets it back under control.
“Spirits & Such Consultation Office, Reigen Arataka speaking.” Reigen kicks his feet up against his desk. Serizawa pretends to be very interested in the weather outside.
“Uh huh, hm.” He stops to note something down. “How far away are you?” Another sound of the pen being picked up from the desk. “Got it. And you say you’ve only had this happen to - ”
A silence. It drags on long enough that Serizawa decides it is now safe to turn back around and pretend to make tea.
Reigen is frantically scribbling on a pad of paper, the phone pressed up between his ear and his shoulder. The tip of his tongue peeks out between his lips in concentration.
He jerks up suddenly, clearly reacting to the speaker on the other end. Serizawa is watching him closely enough now that the motion itself makes him jump, tea spilling over and hovering where his powers instinctively catch it.
“Do I have a girlfriend, you ask?” Reigen’s tone is incredulous.
Serizawa should have known then, this was going to be a troublesome case.
The train station is empty, the morning mist curling in through the open doors; a beautiful late-winter morning shakes off the remainder of a cold night.
Serizawa shudders. The wind is still biting. He watches as his breath steams in the morning light; a twitch of his fingers has his aura poking and prodding it into fantastical shapes. He’s fidgeting, anxiety flaring in anticipation of the journey – and the job.
Serizawa bites his lip as he recalls the details of Friday's conversation after that fateful phone call. Reigen had written down some details, thanked the speaker, and then sat very still, and very quiet, for an uncharacteristic amount of time.
It had become almost disconcerting, a careful blankness smoothing his features.
“Serizawa.” Reigen finally speaks, drawing out each word in anticipation of something worse to come. He inhales and exhales slowly. “Are you free this weekend?”
The tea cup rattles in his hands. “Um. Yes. I believe so.”
And he is, of course, beyond some calculus worksheets he’s pretty sure he’ll have to redo later anyway. He was anticipating a weekend quietly chipping away at those questions in between bouts of MMO games and maybe a few episodes of a new K-drama he had been itching to sink his teeth into…
But here’s Reigen, looking at him with a sharp flare of panic in his eyes, covering it up with a threadbare smile that doesn’t reach the upper half of his face. His hands are tightly gripping the notepad and pencil in an attempt to stifle his usual anxious ticks.
“What was the call about?” Serizawa decides that the direct approach might break down more barriers than beating around the bush. With Reigen, he’d learned to swing between the two extremes – brutal honesty, or a long-winded and sneaky entrapment were the only ways to coax things out of him, either by sheer surprise or by fostering a sense of security discreetly enough that he didn’t bristle at Serizawa’s slow, tender prodding.
“We have a job. It might take a few days. Out of town.” Reigen adjusts his tie, pulling the knot away from his throat.
“That’s… good.” Serizawa finds himself swallowing as he watches the other man unbutton his collar. His aura bristles hotly. “We can charge your ‘Special Spirit Patented Travel and Lodging Perks’ fee.”
“Yes,” Reigen still looks like he might throw up or choke on whatever information he’s trying to stifle. “A nice bonus to keep the lights on and us fed.”
“And you did mention needing a holiday..” He trails off again, enraptured by how Reigen is now rubbing a self-soothing thumb over his collarbone.
“I did.” He wheezes. “I ask the universe to provide and well…”
A grin, finally, and their eyes meet again. It’s a little too much teeth, practiced for dazzling television and not interacting with real people. Something behind the smile lurks, vulnerable and paper-thin. It makes something in Serizawa explode like a lightbulb under high voltage.
“I guess it did.”
“I guess so.”
This doesn’t clear anything up.
They close up the office in silent unison once the streetlights come on. It’s not an awkward silence, but it is a strange departure from their usual Friday banter. Even Serizawa’s aura responds to the shift in atmosphere, enveloping him and the teacups as he washes the dishes to prevent them from clinking together too loudly. They tiptoe around each other, clearing up papers and shuffling chairs.
He finds it strange thus that when he turns to grab his coat, Reigen is holding it out for him with a resigned look on his face.
“I’ll walk you home?” A question, one he’d never expect. But it breaks the silence between them.
“S-sure.” Serizawa takes the coat gingerly, slipping into it a little less gracefully than he’d like.
They walk side-by-side in the narrow street, feet kicking through melting snowdrifts. The world around them is quiet.
Serizawa watches Reigen – he’s walking slowly, dragging his feet almost to delay the inevitable. They both know that whatever conversation Reigen was planning to have has to take place soon, if he’s to have it before they reach Serizawa’s apartment.
“The job.” Reigen indeed takes the plunge.
If not for the months of working with Reigen day-in, day-out, Serizawa would be bothered by this turn of events. The first few months he spent out of CLAW were in a state of constant fear and wonder at the world – and by extension, Reigen.
He’d learned to manage the issue of hero worship and years of self-loathing and self-deprecation much in the same way one would dam a river – a lot of it thrummed behind a barrier, and every so often a hydroelectric issue would result in an outpour of energy and emotion and tears. A lot of them.
What made it easier though, was the increasing knowledge that even the worst day he could possibly have would not phase Reigen as much as he expected it to.
The first time he had a panic attack in the office resulted in all the spoons in the kitchenette turning into forks, and Reigen hanging on for dear life outside the window, held by the ankles by a whisp of Serizawa’s anxious aura.
Once Serizawa had calmed down enough to pull him inside, expecting to be fired forever, Reigen had simply tsk’d at his missing shoe and expressed that he was more annoyed about the spoons.
After that day, Serizawa had to internalise the fact that saving Reigen’s life once meant he would pretty much stick with him forever.
So he hums patiently, watching as his boss struggles to arrange phrases in his head. His brow is furrowed, and he’s doing something fidgety with his hands again.
“The job should be simple.”
“An exorcism?” If it involved them both going, Reigen must have been convinced there was a grain of truth behind the call, or at least enough to bring along someone with real ESP.
“Most probably.” He stops suddenly, and sighs. He swipes a hand over his brow.
“The job – it’s an inn up in the mountains. They’re having major financial issues ever since - ” Reigen pulls a face, unable to explain it in any other terms. “Well. Since one of their guests died in the honeymoon suite…”
His cheeks flush as he avoids Serizawa’s curious gaze. “While in the throes of passion with their partner.”
Oh, a sex ghost. Serizawa feels a weight lift from his shoulders. He knows Reigen gets a bit… embarrassed would be the wrong word, but in the right ballpark, especially whenever his mother emails asking about girlfriends.
“That shouldn’t affect the exorcism.” Serizawa aims at a reassuring tone. “Beyond the usual need to assess the situation and get acquainted with the spirit.”
“Yes. I know.” Reigen pinches the bridge of his nose. “Unfortunately, it’s not that simple.”
“Oh?”
“Y-yeah.” A sigh. A determination to wade through this conversation. “They’ve sought advice from our competitors… and apparently, the spirit will only manifest and wreak havoc for a couple staying in the honeymoon suite.”
“Ah.” He doesn’t quite follow.
“Not a single person. Not two people who happen to be in the suite.” There’s a pained edge to his voice now that was much better concealed before. Reigen balls his fists up in the pockets of his coat. “A couple-couple.”
“Oh.” The cogs have not quite turned. He doesn’t understand the strain behind the words.
“So I told the Inn owners. That we can deal with this situation. Because.” His mouth is so dry now, all the witticisms of his profession dying on his tongue. “Because we’re dating?”
The truth is out. Serizawa feels his cheeks begin to burn – was he that obvious? Was he not careful enough with his wandering eyes, not platonic enough with his lingering touches –
Before he can think of a reply, Reigen starts walking again and continues babbling. “We can quit, though! Quit while you’re ahead. Hah.” He gesticulates wildly. “I mean, I would never want to put you in such an uncomfortable position as to have to pretend to date me of all people, although I have been told I’m not too ugly for a roll in the hay in my time, haha, that was a pretty bad experience though at the time, and I only said yes to the job because they seemed so desperate on the phone and - ”
“C-Client knows best, right?” Those are not the words that Serizawa expects to find himself sputtering out, a half-formed confession-apology swallowed awkwardly and backpedalled faster than he can say sorry.
His response short-circuits Reigen, partway through what sounds to be the most miserable college experience of his life mixed with a list of all the ways he would fail Serizawa as a colleague and mentor and a lot of buzzwords about the psychology of power dynamics. He turns sharply towards him.
“You’re not mad?”
Serizawa blinks.
“It’s a premium job at a premium price.” He bites his lip at the phrasing, recognising that he’s falling back on so-you-want-to-start-a-business self-help book lingo he’d tried to memorise before his first day at Spirits & Such.
“Right. You’re right.” Reigen snaps out of it. “It would be a few days. In the mountains. Free lodging and hot springs. There are worse things in life.”
Serizawa risks a small smile. Then almost trips over the curb in front of his apartment.
“Ah, we’re here.” Reigen looks relieved. “Alright.”
He dips his head. “Alright. Y-yeah.”
“Let’s meet at the train station on Sunday morning.” Reigen pulls out a notebook from his pocket. “We should get there by Sunday night. Best time to travel.”
And cheapest, Serizawa thinks. But he doesn’t disagree. He nods softly and avoids looking his boss in the eyes.
Reigen continues. “Leave the details to me.”
And then, completely out of the blue, he pats Serizawa on the shoulder like he’s just won some sort of sporting award, before scrambling off in the opposite direction to his apartment.
That’s all that Serizawa hears from him until late on Saturday night, when his phone buzzes with the train time and seat reservations made.
And reality, like melting ice, slowly sinks in.
The morning mist has mostly cleared by the time Serizawa notices Reigen in the distance, approaching the station in meandering loops. Their train isn’t for another half an hour, and for some reason the fact that they both arrived much earlier than they’d agreed to has caused a feeling not unlike heartburn to lodge itself in Serizawa’s throat.
At first glance, Reigen is wearing practical hiking gear – a dark, waterproof coat, visibly mended in several areas; sensible, thick-ankled shoes, and long trousers. However, on closer inspection there are some finishing touches Serizawa did not expect. A deep blue wool-knit jumper clings to Reigen’s waist and upper body, and he’s wearing tasteful, gold-rimmed glasses. He looks –
He looks soft, and domestic. The overall effect is of a well-put-together man in his early thirties about to relax on a languid train ride before a weekend filled with long walks in the forest while holding hands with his partner.
Said partner did not get the memo.
He suddenly feels quite self-conscious in his comfy trainers (really, you’ll break an ankle on the first slippery rock!) and fun t-shirt and zip-up hoodie combo (and you’ll freeze to death!). He looks better suited to a school trip to a museum than someone who’s about to go on a romantic escape with their partner…
And oh, if that thought doesn’t make his head spin. Serizawa had not yet fully internalised the extent of their plan until this second, and the thought of being around Reigen for several days, in the same rooms, perhaps even the same bed –
It’s that moment when he’s contemplating a quick and bold escape that Reigen finally notices him too, and gives him a shy wave.
Serizawa swallows. No backing out now.
He can do this.
For the greater good of keeping his friendship with Reigen intact and unchanged. Perhaps this could be a bonding experience, even if their romantic relationship will be fraudulent. Good co-conspirators make better friends.
And I guess we get paid and help some people, Serizawa shrugs as he watches Reigen peer over the top of his glasses as he grabs a soda from the station vending machine.
Reigen grins, showmanship sealing away all his true emotions. “Let’s talk details on the train.”
“Sure.” That’s another thing. They’ll have to work out a backstory to sell to the inn owners – to lure out the spirit, it would be best to ensure that everyone on the premises believes them to be hopelessly devoted to each other.
“Alright.” Reigen’s façade drops for just a second as he takes a steadying breath. The brilliant, effortless smile creeps back. “Come along now. We don’t want to miss the train, honey.”
If Serizawa were a better man, he would have ended the farce then and there and not let his heart soar to new heights. If he were more in control of his emotions and what is and isn’t appropriate in the workplace, every other soda bottle in the vending machine would not have shattered at that moment.
Reigen quirks an eyebrow.
“…I’m coming,” Serizawa mutters as he follows his friend into the waiting train car.