An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
"It's gotten quiet." Reigen's voice cuts through the warm silence of the car and Serizawa looks up from his book. With the sunset fast approaching, light streams through the windows, casting a golden glow around them. He turns around in his seat, eyes sweeping over the other passengers of the car. Just hours earlier, it was chaos with shrieks of laughter, snacks being thrown, and arguments over music. Now, Tome's DS rests in her lap as she slumps against the window. Shigeo leans against a snoring Teru, paper bag still clenched in his hand. Even without straining his neck Serizawa can tell that Ritsu and Shou's whispers have faded into silence.
or
On a Spirits & Such roadtrip, Serizawa considers what home is, Reigen deflects, and Dimple adds GPS to his resume.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Shimazaki poor meow meow chapter! This whole fic is about Minegishi and Shimazaki suffering The Emotional Consequences of their Actions but things do get better later :)
Here ya go! Judging by these prompts, you’re all gonna love Divine Intervention
I’m still doing these, by the way: Writing Prompts
It had been a long day. Shigeo can see it in the set of Teruki’s shoulders and the heaviness in his own chest. He feels ragged, fraying like the bits of string on the cuff of his sweater. He usually feels like this after one of his explosions, so it is nothing new. He tries not to be discouraged by that. That he is so familiar with the feeling of emotional and physical weariness was a sign he had yet to change, after all.
He scrubs at his eyes, still red and puffy from the overflow of emotional energy that perhaps saved their lives, but also left a swath of destruction in its wake. He swallows and pushes the disappointment down. He won’t fail because of his own lack of self-control again. Instead, he turns his gaze toward Teruki.
The boy beside him is strung tight, limping slightly as he walks. His shoulders are stiff, and his mouth is a thin line. Something about the confrontation today had set him on edge, made him sloppy and erratic. The near miss that nearly cost him his life is what set Shigeo’s explosion off in the first place, though Shigeo could hardly blame him for it. Teruki had yet to recover as well, which only had Shigeo worrying with more fervor. Teruki had been deeply disturbed by the ghost they were sent to exorcise. Considering his experience, his shaken demeanor had passed the threshold of being odd and moved on to being troubling.
“Teruki,” Shigeo hazards to ask, snapping the silence they had been trapped in since the chaos from Shigeo’s explosion had died down. Teruki jerks around to face him, still tense, but attempting a sad, wobbling smile.
“Y-yes, Shigeo?” he asks, voice wavering. He stops walking, but doesn’t seem to register his continued momentum and nearly knocks himself off his good leg. He puts too much pressure on the injured one and hisses as it nearly collapses underneath him.
Shigeo reaches forward immediately to steady him. “Are you okay?” he asks needlessly. It is very clear that Teruki is not okay, and it is almost as obvious that Teruki will deny not being okay.
“Of course,” Teruki blurts automatically. Despite his words, he still uses Shigeo’s wrist to brace himself. “I’m… I’ve never been better,” he continues, though his voice is still strained and high.
Shigeo tilts his head as if the new angle will give him insight into what Teruki is thinking. The boy’s hands are as shaky as his smile, and his breath keeps stuttering. The ghost had not been that powerful, despite the trouble she had caused. She had been fixated on Teruki and made him the epicenter of most of the destruction. She had grabbed him more than once, screamed venom and vitriol in his face and sent objects flying constantly in his direction. Teruki was powerful, but there was only so much someone could defend against. He inevitably took a bad hit and fell hard to the ground. Though now it is not his physical state that Shigeo is particularly worried about.
“That's not the truth,” Shigeo surmises. Teruki’s smile does that odd wobbling thing before it stabilizes again, but he refuses to say anything. Shigeo figures he can speak for him this time. “Something she said really bothered you,” he adds, “I might be bad at… at reading people, but I know that much.”
Teruki’s smile almost falls, but he saves it by jerking his head to the side. He takes a harsh breath through his nose and turns away from Shigeo, pressing a hand to his face. “I’m fine,” he murmurs, “I’ll be fine.” He takes a few more deep breaths and his shoulders quiver under the strain. Shigeo is more than familiar with the curve of Teruki’s back and the stiffness to his posture. It is the kind of tension that results from trying to hold oneself together when hopelessly crumbling apart.
Shigeo takes a step closer, perplexed. Teruki has no reason to be holding it all in. Though his powers may ebb and flare with his emotions, they are not so intrinsicly tied as Shigeo’s. Teruki does not threaten much if he were to let the emotions run wild inside of him. He places a gentle hand against Teruki’s back, feeling the muscles tense and twist painfully under his hand.
Shigeo chews on his next sentence thoughtfully, allowing it to sit on the edge of his tongue for a breath before he speaks. “You’re not fine right now,” he says carefully, “You might be fine later, but right now you’re hurting.” He stops it there, unsure of what solution he can offer.
Teruki’s fist clenches at his side, though it still shakes. “You don’t need to comfort me, Shigeo,” he whispers on a breath, “I know it was very stressful for you too.” Shigeo believes that is what Reigen might call an understatement. Though for Shigeo, the stress is gone, released along with all his other pent up emotions in a destructive torrent that exorcised the ghost and blew a crater into the ground. Shigeo is fine now, if a little disappointed in himself.
“I’m okay,” Shigeo says, “And that’s the truth.” He gently takes Teruki’s hand and tries to maneuver the boy to face him, but Teruki is stubborn and Shigeo is hesitant to push. “Teruki, will you look at me?” he asks instead, leaning forward to peer at Teruki’s hidden face.
“No,” Teruki says. It is the first hard refusal that he has given Shigeo in a long while. “As... As I said, it must have been stressful for you and here I am making you worry more.” He presses his face almost violently into the crook of his arm, clenching and grinding his teeth. It takes him longer still to formulate another sentence. “Really… I’m being very selfish, aren’t I?” he mutters.
It doesn’t sound like the question is directed at Shigeo, but he answers anyway. “I don’t think so,” Shigeo says truthfully, “Did she tell you that?” He gives up on trying to physically move Teruki and just walks around to face the boy again. It is tough holding a conversation with his back. Teruki peeks down at him and tightly shuts his eyes again. Shigeo can make out teardrops sitting at the corners of his eyes and wonders why Teruki would try to hide them from him.
Teruki deliberates for a few moments, before letting a harsh breath out through his nose. He shakes his head, then nods it once. “Yes and no,” he says haltingly, “She said a lot of things.” He shakes his head again, this time harsher, and slaps his own cheeks once. “I don’t know why it got to me. She’s a ghost. She’s dead. What does she know?” he questions, eyes fixated just over Shigeo’s shoulder.
Shigeo nods along, because he agrees. She was just a someone that knew nothing about Teruki or Shigeo or their situations. However, he can still understand why it would bother him. “Words can still hurt,” Shigeo says reassuringly, “Even if that person doesn’t know what they’re talking about.”
Teruki nods and scrubs determinedly at his eyes. “Look at this,” he says, frustrated, “This is pathetic. You should be the one crying, Shigeo. I caused you such trouble out there, after all.” He gives his face another rough scrub, trying to erase the remnants of his near cry. However, try as he might, the tears won’t stop collecting at the corners of his eyes and on his lashes. “Weak,” he spits under his breath. Shigeo thinks that, perhaps Teruki didn’t mean for him to hear that.
Shigeo catches his hand before it can cover Teruki’s face again, bringing it down and looking the boy in the eyes. “Teruki, it’s okay,” he says gravely. He remembers all of the lessons that Reigen taught him, redefining what the words ‘strong’ and ‘weak’ mean. He thinks that perhaps Teruki needs some of that redefinition as well. “Teruki, it’s okay to cry,” he continues, looking up into Teruki’s red face.
The noise Teruki makes is halfway between a cough and a sob, high pitched and painful. It wrenches at Shigeo’s soul the same way that the boy hanging his head does. Shigeo takes another bold step forward, and directs Teruki’s head to rest on his shoulder with a gentle hand on his neck. Teruki sniffles and presses his nose into the crook of Shigeo’s shoulder.
Teruki isn’t pretty when he cries, Shigeo is quick to find out. He isn’t subtle or delicate. With that simple assurance, Teruki’s wavering facade falls and is replaced by a wave of emotion that practically washes over Shigeo. Teruki’s whole body shudders as he pulls Shigeo close and he lets out a loud sob that echoes through the clearing they stand in. It sounds like it holds more than just sore feelings from a few angry words behind it and Shigeo is realizing that perhaps he isn’t the only one that attempts to keep careful, perilous control over himself.
“Shige,” Teruki says on a breath before letting it out as another sob. Shigeo can feel his tears soaking through his sweater, making his skin clammy and sticky underneath. He doesn’t care, content to hold Teruki just as close as the boy holds him, reassuring and firm like Teruki needs. “I’m sorry,” he says once he has breath to do so.
Shigeo remains silent, only pats a hand down his back. Teruki doesn’t need to apologize and it isn’t Shigeo’s place to grant forgiveness for whatever slight he thinks he has committed. Teruki seems to understand the silent message as he continues to sob openly against Shigeo’s shoulder, holding him close like he might be lost in the torrent of his own emotions otherwise. Shigeo weathers it, perhaps not with pleasure, but with happiness in the knowledge that he can provide this kind of comfort for Teruki. It is good to give back after being the one to always take, even if the circumstances are not ideal.
“I love you,” Teruki whispers, so close to Shigeo’s ear that his lips brush it. If romance was the intended goal, the effect is somewhat ruined as his voice shakes and his face is wet and cold from his own tears. Shigeo leans in to the words, however, taking a handful of Teruki’s shirt.
“I love you too, Teruki,” Shigeo says. Teruki embraces him one last time before setting him free. He straightens a bit, looking bashfully at the wet spot on Shigeo’s shoulder. Before Teruki can apologize, Shigeo speaks. “Are you feeling better now?” he asks. He knows after one of his explosions, though fatigue weighs on him like lead, his chest feels lighter.
Teruki nods, wiping tears and snot from his face with the dirty pink sleeve of his sweater. “I think so,” he says, hiccuping after the sentence. Shigeo nods and gives him a gentle smile, taking Teruki’s hand in his own. “I-I’m sorry,” Teruki hiccups again.
“You don’t have to apologize,” Shigeo says, “Sometimes you have to cry.” He starts leading them towards the bus stop. He walks slowly, so that Teruki might have a chance to collect himself before they are seen by other people. Teruki might be more willing to show his raw, unfiltered self to Shigeo, but he still holds a careful mask in front of others. Shigeo is almost honored to have seen him like this. It isn’t beautiful, but the trust is something intimate that Shigeo thinks he will treasure for the rest of his life.
“I’m… I’m not happy that you felt like crying, but… I’m glad I could be there for you,” Shigeo admits, a little bashful himself, “If… If you need that again, I’ll be glad to help you. That’s what I’m here for, after all.”
Teruki nods, then leans down as they are walking and pecks a kiss onto Shigeo’s nose. “The offer extends to you as well,” he says, his voice regaining some of its usual charm.
Shigeo can feel his ears grow hot and he knows his face is pinkish. “I… I think I’ve taken full advantage,” he says haltingly.
Teruki laughs and swings an arm around Shigeo’s shoulders, allowing him to take some of his weight. Shigeo is happy to bear the burden, both the emotional one the physical.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Reigen learns how to help fight psychic battles with his own skills and Joseph tries to figure out how to deal with this annoying overprotective conman.
hi everyone i can’t stop writing mp100 fics (two chapter published,,more to come later this week hopefully)
Aaaa I love your writing and I specifically love your stuff with takenaka, teru, and mob (together and separate you write them all so well) so if you're still doing prompts could I request 3, 44, or 67 with... literally any combination of those three?
FINALLY I have finished it! I hope this strikes your fancy. Of course I went with 3, but hopefully I’m not too predictable with it.
Momozou Takenaka is quickly finding out that one doesn’t always need telepathy to read someone like a book. It isn't as if he didn't know this before, but with near constant mental chatter cluttering his ears, reading someone’s actions and postures came hand in hand with reading their thoughts.
It isn't like that with Teruki Hanazawa. The other esper has been absolutely determined to block Takenaka from reading any thought or feeling any emotion with a carefully crafted psychic barrier. It hardly matters. Takenaka can read him just the same as he can anyone else. While he is seven hundred layers of pomp over a perilously fragile ego, they are each just as manufactured and duplicate as the last. Figuring out the construction of one is enough to break all the way through to Teruki’s core where he is just as predictable and average as everyone else. Teruki knows it too, his desperate attempts at hiding it are more telling than any internal monologue.
It is when that masquerade begins to crumble that Takenaka finds a new enigma in Teruki Hanazawa. It is like night and day, one afternoon he is picking Shigeo up from school to walk to Spirits and Such, composed and proper as anyone pleases, and the next morning he nearly trips over his own feet on his way to school as Takenaka passes him in the street. The wide-eyed, fear stricken look he gives Takenaka is almost comical, especially when he is stumbling into an adjacent brick wall, but the entire interaction throws Takenaka for a loop.
“Good morning, Takenaka!” Teruki nearly shouts, much too cheerful to be interpreted as natural and not anything approaching the usual reserved tone he uses with him.
“‘Morning, Hanazawa,” Takenaka replies with a little bob of his head. Teruki nods back, then pushes himself from the wall and continues a more wobbling gait in the opposite direction. Their schools are on two different sides of the city after all. Perhaps he was just surprised to see Takenaka walking this way in the morning, even though Takenaka walks that way more often than not. Whatever the reason, Takenaka shrugs and ignores it. He has a hard enough time wrestling with the thoughts he is already capable of reading, he doesn’t need to expend more time and energy trying to read Teruki’s.
Though the whole thing is made exponentially more bizarre by the fact that Shigeo is also acting oddly. It is by no means the strange break in character that Teruki displayed that morning, but there is definitely something off about the boy. He greets Takenaka with that same pleased expression and accepts his company easily as always, but his thoughts are silent. When Takenaka goes prodding, he finds them blocked off and that is when he begins to worry.
“Shigeo,” Takenaka begins at lunch, pulling one of his earbuds out. Shigeo looks up from his lunch, chopsticks still poised delicately in one hand, but thankfully empty of food. “I can’t--” Takenaka tries to say, then reformulates his approach, “Not to seem… nosy, but I’ve noticed you’re not letting me read your thoughts anymore.” It still comes out stilted and awkward, but at least it gets to the point.
Shigeo jumps like Takenaka had slapped him, blinking once then twice before his mouth even begins to formulate an answer. “Uhm…” he hums. The barrier he has up between Takenaka and his thoughts wavers, but not enough for Takenaka to make any sense of his behavior. Takenaka wrinkles his nose. He tries not to feel hurt at Shigeo’s sudden secrecy. It wasn't really his business after all.
Shigeo eventually comes up with an excuse, though a weak one. “I just… have been thinking about a lot and I don't want it to get too loud for you,” he says quietly. It would be believable if it ever seemed to matter to Shigeo before.
Takenaka just nods, but is sure not to hide his distaste. It really isn’t his place to push the point, but Shigeo has never been like this before and Takenaka doesn’t know what he could have done to deserve it. He pushes it down, turning his gaze back to his own lunch. He roughly shoves his earbuds back into his ears, and hunches his shoulders as he sits back. He ignores Shigeo’s faint, probing worry as a result. It isn’t any of his business after all.
The days continue like that for a while. Both Teruki and Shigeo stumble around him like children hiding their mother’s accidentally broken vase. The fact that they are doing it at the same time leads Takenaka to one conclusion; that whatever it is they are hiding, it is something they are in on together. It cannot be the relationship they both have. They have been together far longer than the odd behavior has persisted, and Shigeo never hid it from him, even if they never discussed it. They still spend time together easily when Takenaka isn’t around, so it can’t be that their relationship is in jeopardy. That leads Takenaka to reason that not only is the secret something they hold together, it is something that concerns Takenaka himself. Rather than being bitter or betrayed, he just wonders what it could be. What could have them both so secretive and what about it concerns him?
Eventually, Takenaka grows tired of it though. It would be easy enough to ignore if the two of them ignored him, but they still go out of their way to interact with him. Teruki doesn’t change his morning route, and Shigeo still sits next to him in class. If anything, Takenaka thinks that he sees them more often. Teruki changes his afternoon route and walks beside Shigeo and Takenaka on their way home, even though his apartment is farther away. Shigeo likewise makes changes to his own schedule, making himself more available during lunch periods and loitering in the halls near where Takenaka usually hides when the voices become too much. All the while, it is as if they expect Takenaka not to notice their odd behavior. Teruki is insistent on making awkward, halting conversation and then stubbornly denying anything is wrong. Shigeo pretends unconvincingly like their behavior has been the status quo since the beginning.
He notices it, though, and unlike the other two he is unwilling to let it lie. He waits until they are all walking home together again before he brings it up. He waits for a lull in the forced casual conversation taking place on either side of himself before he strikes. He can no longer take the artificial friendliness and the forced nonchalance.
“Alright,” he says, pulling the others into complete silence, “What is wrong with you two?”
“Huh?” Teruki says, a little too strained and high. He heard exactly what Takenaka said. Shigeo doesn’t say anything, but there is a subtle curling of his hands into fists that tells Takenaka he heard him too.
“The both of you,” Takenaka clarifies, refusing to repeat himself, “You’ve been acting weird for two weeks now and I’m tired of it.” He keeps walking, but soon finds that his companions have stopped, both staring at him with twin expressions of shock. Takenaka pauses, turns and crosses his arms. He quirks a brow and cocks his head to the side.
“We haven’t been acting weird. Why would we be acting weird?” Teruki insists, rather than providing the requested explanation.
“You have been,” Takenaka maintains, “And that’s what I’m asking. What is your problem?”
“There isn’t a problem,” Shigeo says, sounding much more level than his companion. It soothes Takenaka’s aggression only slightly because he knows Shigeo is lying regardless of how sure he sounds. “I’m sorry if we’ve been acting weird,” he adds.
Takenaka lets out a gusty sigh, watching the two of them sweat under his critical gaze. “Alright,” he allows. Shigeo and Teruki look momentarily relieved before Takenaka’s next words. “If you’re not gonna tell me, then leave me alone,” he demands.
“What?” Teruki nearly chokes, stumbling for good measure, like he has received a physical blow.
“It’s one thing to have you two acting strange and not hanging around. It’s another when you seem insistent that you stick close by,” Takenaka explains practically, “I don’t have the patience for this.” He is not at all upset that whatever the anomaly is, both Teruki and Shigeo are in on it and then seem to think Takenaka is dense enough not to notice.
Shigeo sweats profusely and that mental block wavers for a moment and almost gives way. It is back up in place before Takenaka can even scratch the surface of what he might be thinking, though. “I-it doesn’t have anything to do with you though,” Shigeo says quickly while Teruki seems to reel from Takenaka’s outright banishment. Shigeo might be preventing Takenaka from reading his mind, but Takenaka can sense the lie there. “Us acting weird, I mean… and we were trying to hang around more because we didn’t want you to notice anything,” he explains honestly.
“Good job. I noticed anyway,” Takenaka says testily. Shigeo winces and looks away. Takenaka tries no to feel bad about that. “Still, If you’re not gonna spill what this is about, then I want you to leave me alone,” he insists.
He turns away from them, ready to walk away, even if it means going in the opposite direction to where his home is. Before he can make it more than a few steps, however, a hand wraps around his and holds him back. “Momozou, Wait,” Teruki calls him.
Takenaka whips his head back at the name. He doesn’t allow it to sway his resolve, however. “If you don’t have an explanation, then let go of my hand,” he snaps.
Teruki’s expression hardens, his lips drawing down and his eyebrows together. He chews his lip momentarily before he speaks. “I’m in love with Shigeo,” he announces with all the authority of a king declaring a new law, “That’s why… we’ve been acting weird. We’re dating and we didn’t want you to feel left out… or know, for that matter.”
Takenaka blinks at him and Teruki tries for an uneasy smile. Something annoyed and ugly twists in Takenaka’s gut and he growls. “That’s not a surprise,” he spits, “Or an explanation.” He wrenches his hand away from Teruki’s grip and spins on his heel only to be restrained once again. This time as Shigeo grabs a handful of the back of his jacket and reels him back. Takenaka wonders why he is so insistent that he stay and twists around so fast that he nearly knocks Shigeo backwards on his ass.
“I don’t have to read your minds to know you two are an item,” Takenaka says, glaring down at Shigeo’s slighter form. The boy’s uncanny ability to remain stoic in tense situations is doing nothing to assuage Takenaka’s boiling temper. “I know you two are in love and you have been since way before you started doing this shit,” he fumes, voice just barely lower than a yell, “Like I said, not an explanation. It’s not even a half-decent excuse.”
Shigeo averts his eyes after the rant, looking unsure. It is almost worse than when his expression wouldn’t change at all. “I… uh... “ he stutters. His mental block makes another dangerous wobble, so tantalizingly close to falling and revealing the true reason.
“We didn’t want you to feel left out,” Teruki repeats himself, coming swiftly though uselessly to Shigeo’s aid, “Or feel jealous.” It sounds weak, like Teruki is grasping at straws and it sets off all the warnings in Takenaka’s head.
“Jealous?!” Takenaka mimics, offended and incredulous, “I am not jealous. Why would I be?” Perhaps if he did not already know that the two of them were already so caught up in each other, he would be. As it is, Takenaka knows better than to concern himself with feelings like that. He doesn’t have even an ounce of a chance.
Teruki, instead of looking relieved, looks offended himself. He makes an aborted gasping noise and clenches his fists at his sides, possibly to keep from pressing one to his mouth like an insulted housewife. “Why wouldn’t you be?!” he shouts. It snaps the tense atmosphere like an errant foot on a dry twig.
Takenaka blinks at the sudden release in pressure, feeling like a rug has been pulled out from under his feet. Shigeo looks between the two of them and sweats. Takenaka can feel his mental wall crumbling almost brick by brick as he fidgets with his shirt. Takenaka determinedly ignores it. “What?” he asks after a long pause, looking between the two of them.
Teruki turns beet red and presses a hand to his face. Shigeo reaches over and tugs at his sleeve, trying to make very obvious, subtle eye contact with the other. Teruki resists, bringing his other hand up to hide his face completely. Takenaka watches the whole scene with a small amount of amusement, the earlier heat of his anger all, but forgotten.
“Yes, you are,” Takenaka agrees with a nod, though he isn’t entirely clear on what the two are talking about.
Teruki pulls his hands away from his face. “Don’t be rude,” he scolds, but it is as weak as his knees look.
“I thought… I thought for sure!” Teruki continues on to say. He groans and buries his head in his hands again, hunching his shoulders.
Shigeo looks between his distraught boyfriend and Takenaka, biting his lip. There is a moment of confusion, a flash of indecision on his face, and then the wall blocking his thoughts drops abruptly and Takenaka is bombarded with a cacophony of thoughts that Shigeo cannot quite put words to. It is an explanation, an apology and a confession of disappointment all in one chaotic package, and Takenaka finds himself pressing a few fingers to the side of his head, trying to massage away the pressure.
“Sorry,” Shigeo blurts, shutting off the flood as abruptly as he opened it, “Sorry. I thought it’d be easier to think it than explain it.”
Takenaka winces and blinks again. “I didn’t get anything substantial from that,” he admits, disorientated. Teruki looks up from his embarrassment exchanging the glance with Shigeo that the boy originally sought.
“How do I explain this, Shigeo?” Teruki asks the other. Shigeo makes a weak shrugging motion in reply, looking sheepish. They both turn their eyes back to Takenaka, and Takenaka straightens under their contemplative gaze.
“You better figure it out, or else I’m leaving,” Takenaka says after Shigeo and Teruki have exchanged a series of harried hand motions and expressions. Shigeo’s thoughts are still a confusing flurry of barely contained emotions, mostly nerves, but something more complex underneath. Takenaka cannot parse it, nor does he want to with the headache that resulted from the first onslaught.
Teruki’s barrier is just as strong as ever, even as his expression softens into something hesitant. He bites the inside of the his cheek thoughtfully. “So you’re already aware of Shigeo’s and my relationship,” he says levelly, forcing even breaths in through his nose, “But there is something additional that you evidently do not know.” He eyes Takenaka critically before speaking again. “... or will likely care about,” he adds regretfully.
“Tell me anyway,” Takenaka insists, making his frustration clear in his tone, “I’ll decide if I care or not.”
Teruki visibly steels himself while Shigeo moves around to brace him. “We thought…Well, I thought, I should say, that you maybe had feelings for Shigeo,” he says as a preface. Takenaka feels his face abruptly heat with the wash of Shigeo’s confirming thoughts. Takenaka wasn’t the only one good at reading people, it seemed. “And well,” Teruki begins again, a fond arm wrapping around Shigeo’s shoulders, “We realized that, perhaps those feelings were returned.”
Takenaka’s heart gives a lurch at the same moment that Shigeo goes pink from his neck to his ears and looks away. “Regardless, you know I—“ Takenaka cuts himself off. Perhaps Teruki didn’t know, after all. “I’m not gonna get in between you two,” he says after a deep breath, “Whatever my feelings or Shigeo’s are… he obviously likes you, so I wouldn’t…”
“I wasn’t finished,” Teruki interrupts his rambling, “I am perfectly fine with whatever Shigeo feels, as long as he’s happy. This isn’t about that, clearly, or we’d be avoiding you, don’t you think?” He sounds just a hair more put together and Takenaka tries to follow his lead.
“As I said, when we began our relationship, I was worried you might be jealous,” Teruki continues, “And I didn’t want you to resent me any more than you already do.” He takes a breath, like the idea of Takenaka hating him is honestly more painful to him than Shigeo having feelings for another person.
Takenaka blinks at the reaction and stuffs his hands in his pockets. “I don’t resent you,” he says honestly. Teruki looks doubtfully at him and Takenaka sighs to release some of the built up tension in his chest. “Alright. I know I’m not the most friendly, but it isn’t that I don’t like you. I just don’t get you,” he explains, “Since when do you care what I think, anyway? It’s not like I’m gonna damage your reputation… as if I could.” Even if Takenaka professed Teruki to be the most horrible bastard that ever lived, he would be disbelieved at best. Teruki had much more sway than Takenaka ever hoped to have. Takenaka had no interest in defaming Teruki anyway.
Teruki makes a melancholy face, his shoulders slumping in defeat. His arm unwinds from around Shigeo, and Shigeo braces his shoulder with a hand. “Because I care what you think about me, Takenaka,” Teruki says. Takenaka feels like there has been a distance reestablished with the use of his last name. He tries not to feel the loss so viscerally. “You’re someone Shigeo holds in very high esteem,” he explains, “And… despite what you may think I think about you, I respect you, Takenaka. A lot.” The last part of that sentence seems almost choked, and Teruki looks down at the admission, pinking at the tips of his ears. He mimics Takenaka’s posture, hunching his shoulders and stuffing his hands in his pants pockets.
“What does that mean, Teruki,” Takenaka demands, looking down at him. He looks shorter with his head down and his back hunched, even if he is about averagely sized for someone his age. Takenaka feels cruel for causing him to look that way.
Teruki doesn’t reply, eyes still trained on the ground, struck speechless. Shigeo comes to the rescue, however. “I’m not the only one who likes you, Takenaka,” Shigeo says. He winds his arm through Teruki’s like it might grant him strength as he wrestles with his words. Takenaka stares at him, bewildered and disorientated by his words and his thoughts.
Despite himself, Takenaka shakes his head. “Nuh-uh,” he says firmly, “Nope. That’s too--”
A small crack opens up in Teruki’s mental block and gives Takenaka a meager, but dizzying taste of Teruki’s thoughts and feelings. Underneath all the turbulence are genuine feelings of fondness in Takenaka’s direction, along with no small amount of exasperation.
“It isn’t like I was supposed to know!” Takenaka defends himself against the thoughts, “You keep yourself closed off all the time and you treat me like a threat. I was surprised you didn’t outright hate me!”
Teruki snaps his head up, eyes wide with surprise, but soon narrowing in anger. Takenaka reels at the flare of disbelief and indignation. “I have done no such thing!” Teruki shouts, “Only recently did I begin shutting you out, and I have never treated you like a threat! What is threatening about you?!”
“Hey!” Takenaka shouts back, ignoring the throbbing in his head at the combined emotional catharsis and tumultuous turn of events, “I’m plenty threatening!” Takenaka is more than aware that is besides the point, but he poses just as much of a threat even without telekinesis or pyrokinesis or any other kind of kinesis there is. He takes a deep breath, calming himself. “I’m just saying, you were being pretty damn standoffish before… all this,” he snaps, motioning helplessly at where they stand.
Then what Teruki said finally registers and Takenaka gasps loudly, cutting off Teruki’s own answering tirade. “What do you mean you only began shutting me out recently?” Takenaka asks in the ensuing confused silence.
“Just that!” Teruki says, “I didn’t even know you could block your thoughts until you said something to Shigeo about it.”
“What?” Takenaka asks, more shocked surprise than a request for confirmation.
“I said, I haven’t been blocking you out. I didn’t even know how until Shigeo showed me,” Teruki repeats himself, but his ire quickly fades into confusion as his brows draw together. “Are you telling me that you haven’t been able to hear my thoughts at all?” Teruki asks, his tone much softer than it was.
Takenaka shakes his head dumbly. It feels like his mouth has been glued shut and Teruki suddenly seems less hostile and more of a blank. “Oh,” he breathes.
It is very quiet for a long while as the weight of the revelation settles. Teruki then lets out a groan and drops into a crouch, pressing his hands to his face again. Shigeo follows him down, inquiring about his health while Teruki just shakes his head. “I can’t believe this,” he says after a few moments, “Out of all the abilities I could have without thinking about it… it’s that.”
Takenaka slumps. “That explains a lot,” he says, at a loss, “At least its useful.”
“Against one person,” Teruki says mournfully, standing up again. He leans heavily on Shigeo who is watching the two of them cautiously. “Against the one person I wanted to hear them,” he repeats, using two of his fingers to squeeze the bridge of his nose.
“At least…” Shigeo breaks in, “At least we know now.” There is an apology floating in the back of his thoughts. Takenaka cuts him off before he can voice it.
“At least we know,” he agrees, though he can’t help, but feel bitter about it.
“Now that… now that that’s cleared up,” Teruki says, regaining some modicum of composure where Takenaka and Shigeo have failed. He looks up at Takenaka and projects his thoughts in a way that is almost forceful, like he is pushing them onto him. “What are we going to do about it?” he asks, looking up at Takenaka and holding his gaze fearlessly. He is naked in a way that is new to Takenaka, but apparently not to him.
Takenaka swallows, resisting the urge to stumble backwards. His gaze flicks between the two of them. He knows what he feels for Shigeo, has known since the time they climbed that mountain together, but Teruki has been a stubborn, albeit unintentional enigma to Takenaka. He knows from Teruki’s thoughts how he feels and what he is offering, and the whole thing sets his mind spinning with the suddenness of it.
“Uh…” Takenaka chokes, “I’ll… I need to think about it.” Though it draws disappointment out of Teruki, he knows he has to remain firm. “Teruki, I don’t… You have to understand that I don’t know you that well,” he says.
The projection of feelings slows to a trickle and then stops completely as Teruki spares him from his disappointment. “I understand,” he says reluctantly. The only tell to the true depth of his discouragement is the way his grip tightens on Shigeo’s hand. Shigeo pats his shoulder gently, his own sadness apparent, but not nearly as concentrated as Teruki’s had been.
“I suppose we will be seeing you tomorrow?” Teruki asks, looking up hopefully.
“If that’s alright with you,” Shigeo adds.
Takenaka nods, and the two of them turn to leave, both slumped in a way that sits heavily in Takenaka’s gut.
“That wasn’t a ‘no,’ by the way,” Takenaka adds before they can get too far. Shigeo’s head turns first, followed by Teruki’s, and Takenaka tries not to stiffen or blush when their eyes meet his. “I just… I need to think about it first,” he repeats his earlier statement, “Get to know you better.”
The smile Teruki gives him is by no means the blindingly bright one Takenaka is used to, but it is comforting all the same.
81. Terumob.. plz.. +points if theyre older and not quite together but together ;u; LOVE U KASI
Coming right up! Also how many points are we talking here for ‘not quite together, but together ’?
I’m still doing these, by the way: Writing Prompts
It had been a long time since Teruki had last gotten caught in the rain, longer still since he had gotten caught without an umbrella. He would have felt foolish at any other time; he had no excuse, after all. Teruki was almost always prepared, rain or shine, for any outcome. The storm had not come without warning either, having been predicted that morning at almost the exact time that the clouds clustered in. Today is different, however, today he has Shigeo with him.
When they were younger, this would not have been so monumental. Despite Shigeo’s club activities and his part time job with Reigen, he still had plenty of spare time to spend with Teruki. Yet, as they grew older, the academically easy, but psychically chaotic days of middle school faded away and high school brought with it new challenges of a less supernatural nature. There was less time spent exorcising and more spent studying. It always felt as if there was no time for anything besides obligations and just like the need for their shared psychic abilities, Shigeo and Teruki’s relationship began to decay. Teruki could feel their connection slipping through his fingers like sand and for a time, he did nothing about it.
Now with graduation and university looming, Teruki is regretful and desperate to rekindle that connection with Shigeo. Teruki knows that the transition between highschool and college is when close friends become acquaintances again and Teruki is loathe to lose all the ground he gained with Shigeo. He never wants to return to a time when he doesn’t know Shigeo. He finds that he treasures that warmth fiercer than he does anything else, not his reputation, nor his studies. They all pale in comparison to this hard won prize.
Luckily, Teruki has been successful thus far. If only he had known at the beginning that Shigeo’s time is his if only he asks for it. The knowledge that the relationship deteriorated due to Teruki’s own inaction serves to feed the anxiety in his chest, but it also fuels him to once again begin to selfishly, shamelessly fill Shigeo’s free time with himself.
Once again they are spending time together like they had in their youth, snatching moments between applying for universities, studying, and still working for Spirits and Such to grab a snack and chat. It is perhaps more difficult, but worth every ounce of effort spent. Shigeo is more than happy for the excuse to procrastinate on the stressful decisions of the future, and Teruki is glad for the opportunity to spend more time with his friend. Though even with the return to old times, there is still an odd, foreign distance between them. It is a small stretch, but one that no matter how Teruki tries, he cannot step over. He wants to pull Shigeo back to him, recapture that familiarity they had, but it feels like even an eternity couldn’t bridge the gap. Though Teruki devoted every afternoon to shattering it, there is still a wall, paper thin, but frustratingly elastic.
Today, in his eagerness to make the most of his time with Shigeo, however, it seems Teruki has inadvertently cut their time short. They are sitting in the grass at a park like they had countless times as children, watching the clouds roll by. Shigeo is sitting so close, yet so terribly far away, and Teruki has been wracking his brain for an explanation for the longing in his chest. Today is the day he will broach the subject, if only he could find a smooth way to do so. His thoughts are put on hold and the anxiety in his gut grows when Teruki sees the clouds gradually darkening, blocking out the sun and banishing the ardor in his heart. At the first drops of rain, Teruki sighs, knowing without even checking his bag that he has left his umbrella on his desk at the school in his hasty departure. He thinks they will be able to linger for just a moment longer, but then the clouds open up fully and dump what must be gallons of water on them all at once. Once again, Teruki will be left wrestling with the barrier between himself and Shigeo, unable to address it.
He puts up his own barrier, a protective one to stave off the rain for a little while longer. Eventually though, the grass around them will become slick and their shoes will sink into the now loamy earth. Without thinking much of it, Teruki grabs Shigeo’s hand and pulls him up. He spots a covered bus stop just down the hill from them and although the jog will be perilous in slick grass, Teruki is willing to risk it to save Shigeo the burden of wet socks, muddy shoes and a possible cold. He tugs Shigeo down the hill, making quick, but careful progress as Shigeo silently trails behind him. They are almost there when there is a flash of lightning so bright it nearly blinds Teruki followed quickly by a roll of thunder that shakes the ground and has Teruki’s ears ringing. He pauses for a only a moment, then readies to keep trekking down the hill, however, when he tugs on Shigeo’s hand, he receives more resistance than he thinks he ought. For a moment, his chest fills with dread. Has Shigeo developed a new fear in the time that Teruki had not been as close? Had Teruki inadvertently exposed him to it by forcing him out when there was threat of a storm?
He turns his gaze reluctantly to Shigeo, expecting to seem him scared, perhaps cowering away from the bangs of thunder and flashes of lightning. However, what Teruki finds is almost the opposite. Shigeo is serene, eyes turned towards the sky, uncaring against the pouring down on them. He brings one hand up, the one Teruki is not clasping and pokes it out from under Teruki’s barrier. “Teru,” he says quietly. Teruki snaps to attention, chest clenching with how much his heart swells at the familiar name. “Can you take your barrier down?” Shigeo asks politely, still not turning his face from the sky.
“Ka-” Teruki begins, but pauses and backtracks. Shigeo had just used his name, did that not also mean he could use Shigeo’s? He decides to try, less due to courage and more because Shigeo might not hear him in the rain pounding unforgivingly against the earth. “Shigeo, it’s pouring. You’ll get soaked,” Teruki says.
Shigeo nods in understanding. Teruki just tilts his head, wondering at his reasoning. “It’s been awhile since I’ve stood out in the rain,” he says by way of explanation.
“We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm… and you want to stop and feel the rain?” Teruki asks. It should hardly be surprising. Shigeo is like this, slow, careful, thoughtful and sometimes horrendously irrational. He places value in odd things like change, and now, apparently thunderstorms.
“Please, Teru,” he says softly. He gives Teruki a little smile, just a slight quirking of his lips, and Teruki doesn’t take his barrier down so much as drop it in a psychic facsimile of fumbling. Once the barrier is gone, the rain hits them as if someone has overturned a bucket on them.
It is shockingly chill, sliding down Teruki’s neck and sending a shiver up his spine. Shigeo only sighs in relief, tilting his head back and letting the rain patter on the pale skin of his face. His grip tightens around Teruki’s hand, ensuring that their hold on each other won’t falter even as rain slick as their hands are. His eyes are now delicately closed against the rain, dark lashes holding droplets of water on their spiky ends. His hair, already jet black, sticks against his face, looking much like someone had come at him with an ink heavy paint brush. With the rain misting around him, he looks almost like a Muromachi painting, monochrome and precise. Teruki stands, sopping, and just takes it in. Despite the cold of the rain, Teruki can feel something rising in his chest, filling him with warmth from his core to the tips of his fingers and toes.
“You’re using my name,” Shigeo says after a few moments. His eyes open to slits, his dark irises turning to peek at him behind his lashes. That smile is still there, just a gentle line tilting ever so slightly upward. It is so inherently Shigeo’s smile, yet looks so new on his face.
“You’re using mine too,” Teruki says dumbly. There is a questioning lilt to his voice that he can’t help. Shigeo is such a conundrum sometimes, and he never fails to stump Teruki. He is always changing, yet so stubbornly himself at his core. He wonders if Shigeo would be happy to hear that from him.
He is so caught up in his thoughts that he does not realize that Shigeo is now startling close to him, nearly nose to nose. This kind of nearness is nothing new to their relationship. With Shigeo, most kinds of physical contact were entirely allowed with Teruki. Holding hands, leaning against each other, even now Teruki could wrap his arms around Shigeo’s shoulders and he knows it would be allowed. This seems novel, however, standing face to face and toe to toe with Shigeo. He realizes distantly that he and Shigeo are the same height now, or perhaps Shigeo is a little taller. Shigeo holds his gaze unflinchingly, and his other hand seeks out Teruki’s so that they are both clasped. He holds so tightly, as if Teruki might slip away from him like the rain sliding off the blades of grass at their feet. Teruki returns the grip, feeling as if he is reaching forward and dragging Shigeo back to him, close the physical distance as well as the emotional one.
“You’ve seemed really far away lately,” Shigeo says, “I’m glad we started spending time together again.”
Though it isn’t an accusation, Teruki still feels guilty. “I got caught up, I suppose,” he says, by way of apology, “But… I did some reassessing and I remembered what was important.”
Shigeo’s head tilts to the side, his bangs sliding sideways with the movement. “What is that?” he asks, genuinely perplexed.
“Friendship,” Teruki says, looking down at their clasped hands, “Ours, specifically.” He doesn’t want to admit that Shigeo and his friends are really the only people Teruki has remained close to after all this time. “I realized that no matter what happens, I don’t want us to grow any farther apart,” he admits, then turns his gaze back up to Shigeo’s. He is shocked by Shigeo’s calm, but earnest gaze, fighting the urge to take a step back. He chuckles nervously, a smirk curving his lips, but he knows it won’t reach his eyes, he can still feel the furrow between his brows and the tension threatening to pull his mouth back down. “Us… us espers have to stick together, after all!” he says, his voice high.
Shigeo takes a step forward, coming impossibly closer. Teruki can feel that phantom barrier pulling, stretching, still holding them apart despite being so close together. “Even if we weren’t espers,” Shigeo says, “Or you weren’t an esper and I was, or if the opposite were true… I’d still want us to stay… like this.” He nods towards their hands, and Teruki swallows. His heart stutters and he blinks harshly as the rain gets in his eyes.
“Do you get it, Teru?” Shigeo asks after a pause.
Teruki stares at him, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. He can taste the rain on his tongue and feel the heat of Shigeo’s skin against the palms of his hands. He takes a harsh breath. “I–”
Another flash and another boom of thunder rockets Teruki away from Shigeo and sends him sprawling in the mud. Shigeo isn’t far behind, falling forward before Teruki catches him, saving him from the same fate. They slide the rest of the way down the hill, coming to rest where the water is pooling by the sidewalk. Teruki sighs and rest his head in the muddy water, hands bracing Shigeo’s sides where he has tumbled overtop of him. “Bad timing,” Teruki breathes, shutting his eyes and feeling the clammy water soak into his hair.
“Sorry,” Shigeo apologizes automatically, “Maybe I should have waited.” He stays where he is, braced over Teruki, shielding him, but also dripping water from his hair onto Teruki’s face.
Teruki wonders what Shigeo is talking about, but his mouth moves before he is consciously aware of what he is saying. “No, don’t apologize,” he says. He sits up, careful not to slide Shigeo off of him. Despite all of Teruki’s efforts to keep him from getting muddy, the knees of Shigeo’s uniform pants are smeared brown and green from their slide down the hill and his hands are filthy from where they were braced by Teruki’s head. “Well, we’re a mess,” he says.
Shigeo nods, but there is that smile still on his face. It still makes Teruki’s heart flutter and he wonders at it, wonders at what Shigeo meant before the thunder sent them tumbling. “Why don’t you… why don’t you come to my apartment?” Teruki asks, an unneeded nervous fluttering jumping in his chest, “I’ll lend you some clothes and we can wait out the storm there.”
Shigeo nods, standing from where he was leant over Teruki’s legs and offering him a hand. Teruki takes it, and Shigeo pulls him up easily despite the muddy ground slipping under their feet. “You can also…” Teruki begins once he has stood up. He doesn’t bother wiping the dirt from his pants. They are a lost cause and something to be dealt with later. “You can also explain to me what you meant by what you said earlier,” he suggests, peeking at Shigeo through the corner of his eye, “I don’t think I got the whole meaning… and I want to.”
Shigeo nods in understanding. “Master Reigen says when I try to be subtle, I am just very vague, so I understand,” he says ponderously, “That… explains a lot. I’m sorry… I’ll be more direct this time… from now on.”
“I– what?” Teruki asks, but Shigeo is already taking his hand and leading him in the direction of his apartment.
“I’ll tell you once we get there,” he promises. For now, that is enough for Teruki.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Teru’s bedroom looks exactly the same as before it was destroyed. The door creaks as it hits the doorstop, Teru standing in the entrance taking it all in. Sturdy floorboards. New windows. Replaced furniture. Homely messes instead of smashed-through walls and floors where, were Teru someone different, he might have died.
Hey there! I’m new to the fandom and was wondering if there were any good fics to read? I’m an anime-only fan at the moment, so no manga spoilers past the Mogami arc please!
