Reigen stared at him, his expression stern in the way Serizawa had learned it was when he didn’t have to keep up his customer service pleasantries. He stepped close to him and rested his forehead against his shoulder, hiding his expression. His quiet words, however, Serizawa could hear loud and clear.
Teruki’s bag is waiting for him outside his front door when he
gets home, a small bundle of fresh wildflowers nestled carefully on
top – and as he comes closer, he can feel the powerful impression of
Shigeo’s affection as clearly as if Shigeo is standing right next
to him, wrapping the sentiment around his shoulders like a borrowed
“Oh,” he whispers for absolutely no one to hear, handling the
flowers as carefully as spun glass; breathless with a feeling too
heavy for him to hold on his own, and too precious for him to put
down. “He’s always two steps ahead of me.”
It’s more of a comfort than anything else, and Teruki crouches
right there in the outer hall even though his muscles ache and
even his eyes are sore, digging his phone out of his
bag to send Shigeo a text that says Thank you.
And then, before he can rethink it, because Shigeo deserves better
than a second-rate coward, Teruki sends another text right after the
first that says Can I see you tomorrow?
The flowers go in a glass of water by the window, his dirty
clothes in the hamper – and Teruki should shower, at the very least
wash his face or do something with his hair, but he’s too tired to do
more than climb into a pair of pajamas and fall into bed. His body is
exhausted and his head hurts. There’s an unnatural heat curling under
his skin that probably should worry him, and a jittery feeling
keeping him on the wrong side of consciousness, keeping his fingers
curled around his phone.
It’s almost ten o’clock on a school night, but the reply he’s
waiting for comes after a few minutes:
Teruki rolls over, pinning the phone to his chest in the cradle of
his hands, and laughs breathlessly. He’ll make things right –
he will. He can’t make a whole field of flowers
bloom for Shigeo, but he can make a gesture of his own, one just as
beautiful, he knows he can. It’ll be the most
romantic thing in the world, because anything less than that wouldn’t
be enough to convey even a fraction of these
He falls asleep riding the backs of bright and brilliant ideas,
and sleeps straight through his alarm in the morning.
Reigen’s credit, when he opens his front door late on a Tuesday
night, to be met with a disheveled and mildly-hysterical teenage esper
– whose brilliant idea of a polite greeting is “Please I need
your help I am losing
– he doesn’t so much as bat an eye.
“It was only a matter of time at this point,” he says blandly, and stands back to let Teruki inside.
now they’re sitting on the sofa and the armchair respectively; Teruki
curls his fingers around his usual mug, breathing in the steam and
the scent of sweet cocoa as it drifts up to him
(and it’s amazing, he’s never had a usual anything at someone else’s home before). It’s calming, more
calming than a warm drink and familiar cup have any right to be, and after he’s managed
a few sips and a few deep breaths, Teruki no longer feels like he’s on the verge of
Reigen is waiting patiently for him to sort himself out, but surely that won’t last much longer. “I’m very sorry for showing up like this,” he begins with, hesitantly lifting his eyes.
Reigen raises a brow and gestures with his own mug for Teruki to get on with it already. Okay. Fair enough. He’s danced around the subject long enough.
Carefully setting his hot chocolate on the coffee table, Teruki folds his hands together on top of carefully crossed knees, and says, as painstakingly as he had rehearsed a hundred times, “I have feelings for – for your student. For Shigeo.”
The words take a weight off his chest as he parts with them.
It feels better than he thought it would. To say it out loud, where someone else can hear.
Loud, it was so so loud, why did everyone have to talk at once?? Wasn’t it bad enough that he could hear what they weren’t saying??
The earplugs weren’t helping at all, and Takenaka’s ears felt like they where going to burst as he pressed his palms hard into his ears, successfully giving himself a headache and hot ears but nothing more. Hot tears pricked at his eyes and he tried hard to remain stone faced.
He pulled his hair, clawed at his scalp just above his ears, and pinched his earlobes, all the while biting his lip to stay stoic even as the tears slide down his face at a sickeningly slow pace. They were unpleasantly hot and did nothing to help the uncomfortable weight he felt all over his body. His leg bounced furiously, shaking the table and drawing more unwanted attention -and thoughts- his way. He could feel their eyes all over him and just wanted out, why, why did they have to have all grade assemblies??
Everyone from all the grades at Salt ISD, meaning the grade schoolers all the way to high schoolers, were there to hear a special announcement from the “Hero’s Association” and honestly he couldn’t give a damn. He didn’t want to be a hero, he didn’t care about the weird bald guy and his robot boyfriend, or the bike rider, or the kid with the green hair, he didn’t give a shit. He just want this fucking day to be over.
He felt like he was dying and he hated everyone, at that very moment he wanted everyone and anyone around him to disappear, he wanted to disappear, he wanted everything to just stop. And right then, almost as if hismind had been read, it did. He looked around, the only thing he could hear was himself, his own thoughts, suddenly he could breathe.
He could see that everyone was still talking but he couldn’t hear them. That’s when he saw Mob next to him, smiling very softly.
“You looked annoyed.” He mouthed simply and went back to watching the presentation.
Takenaka was stunned, he’d never had this much quiet to himself and his thoughts, and to be honest it was a little scary. He reached up and pulled out his earplugs, he could hear everyone talking now, albeit muted, but not their thoughts, just their voices, just what was supposed to be heard.
He cried. He cried and didn’t care that people were watching because he couldn’t hear what they thought and didn’t care about them anyway, he just cared about how he felt Mob’s calming aura around him. He sniffled, wiped his eyes gently, and he smiled and thanked Mob who simply nodded without looking away from the stage.
He jolted when he saw that Teru had tears running down his face, and probably had for a while if the puffy redness of his cheeks were any indication. “Whoa, hey, hey, Teru?” he asked, kneeling down to be on Teru’s level. “Shhhhiii—ooooot, shoot, did you hit your foot or get hurt or something?” he asked, frantic to find out what he had to apologize for. Teru just shook his head, looking down and sniffing loudly, clearly trying not to cry. “Well, what’s up, then? Use your words, don’t let me just bowl you over,” Reigen said firmly, though he was cringing inside, realizing that he had pretty deliberately bowled over the kid so he wouldn’t have to explain himself anyway.
HEY GUYS @fancyfennekin DOES IT AGAIN EXCEPT THIS TIME THEY WROTE INSTEAD OF DREW!!! please check outtheir fic based on butterfly effect aaa!! it made me cry this morning and is a bright spot in the bleak hellscape of finals!!!
It was just a fairytale. One of those bedtime stories parents tell their kids to make them wary of the surface. Merfolk didn’t fall in love with humans, they didn’t fall for the sweet words of seawitches and they didn’t fall out of the ocean with legs only to fall back as seafoam. It was just a fairytale. It was supposed to be a fairytale.
He prides himself on a quick wit and a
sharp analytical mind, always planning two steps ahead no matter who
he’s with and where they are, and his psychic abilities wouldn’t be
anywhere near their current level without an obscene amount of study.
He knows a little bit about every subject, give or take, and what he
finds he doesn’t know he’s
quick to learn.
he knows, on a fundamental level, that wanting something
and having it are two
very different creatures.
much as he might want Shigeo,
Teruki is aware that he can’t have him.
If you feel that you don’t have enough reasons to want to punch Mogami in the face, go read @phantomrose96‘s A Breach of Trust. If you already want to punch Mogami in the face, then good, go read it anyway.
There’s a common phenomenon in the
a person discovers a unique subject for the first time and then
coincidentally find themselves running into that subject again and
again. Psychology refers to it as Baader-Meinhof,
formally “frequency illusion.”
calls it “psychic magnetism.”
has an odd way of finding whatever he thinks too long and hard about.
All he has to do is start walking and his steps will inevitably begin
to follow an invisible, roundabout path to whatever it is that’s so
stuck on his mind.
science is keen to explain away the paranormal, there very well might
be an explanation outside of ESP for this ability of his –
selective attention, maybe. Confirmation bias. Synchronicity. A
seemingly meaningful but ultimately random series of coincidences,
one right after the other.
the truth may be, Teruki is familiar enough with his touch of the phenomenon to rightly assume, after a few minutes of aimless
strolling, that he’s headed somewhere in particular. A few strides
into the park, a few slow glances around, and suddenly his heart
the muddy mental lines fade into definition. It’s with purpose that Teruki steps off the path into
soft, springy grass and makes his way towards where Kageyama is
sitting quietly on an out-of-the-way bench.