Chapter Text
The mission that Suguru Getō was assigned to had been one of the more peculiar varieties, with non-sorcerers being the ones to have noticed strange happenings and, as the killing started and the body count racked up, had been desperate enough scouring for a solution to have found the school and reach out for help. Suguru had understood why before the village came into view, which seemed to have been suffocating under a miasma of negativity.
With this amount of cursed energy congregating in one place, it’s a wonder that no one from the association had noticed a problem earlier.
The first order of business was to meet up with the caller, not to obtain more information but rather to reassure; except, the non-sorcerer acting as a representative was saying that they’ve detained the cause, which Suguru just needed to take care of, before proceeding to guide him to a house containing two bright spots of cursed energy — but not potent enough to belong to a curse.
He was led inside.
Suguru Getō was not a fool.
The pieces were falling together, creating an ugly picture, but Suguru had refrained from assuming, had hoped — needed — to be wrong.
Because what would have been the point of being a sorcerer?
Every curse he endured consuming — letting that awful energy coat his mouth with a foulness that knew no equal, to grate through his flesh like being eviscerated alive — the gruelling, harrowing, never-ending work, and the mountain of sorcerer corpses that just grew and grew and grew—
But he was not wrong, the door opening to reveal a wooden cage, an empty cage—
"What—" The representative had cried out.
"Salt Splash!"
Suguru instinctively covered his face with an arm, causing the powder to bounce harmlessly off his sleeve. The representative was not so lucky, tipping over to flail like a worm on the floor.
Two girls rushed by him, who Suguru had let pass because he knew what was going on — what atrocities had occurred within these walls — and he was extending out an arm, planning to twist that filthy monkey to shreds, but a hand stopped him.
"Don’t," another monkey — no, he had been rescuing them; shit, what the fuck was going on? — man said, covered in fear but with steel in his eyes, "You’ll only end up hurting yourself in the process. They’re not worth that, and they’ll get their comeuppance another way. We need to get out of here."
The hand that stopped him was tugging, trying to lead him away, and Suguru obliged.
***
Finding the children was easy.
The second they burst out of the door, the man shouted, "Nanako! Mimiko!" And two girls appeared from behind an alcove and barrelled into him, each latching onto a leg. There was a flash of pure, unadulterated panic on the man’s face, of someone feeling entirely out of depth, before he gathered himself up, dropped his grip on Suguru, and bent over to pat the pair on the head. "You did well. You were so, so brave. We’re almost there now. We need to get to the car, and then we’ll never have to see this wretched place again. Can you do that for me?"
The pair nodded and reluctantly let go.
"Okay," the man said, visibly bracing himself, and started towards an old but well-kept green car parked on the side of the dirt road, far enough away to be inconspicuous. "This way."
Distracted, Suguru did not sense the second-grade curse until a dark, hulking centipede-like form surged out of the forest, quick as lightning, heading straight for the man and children.
Somehow, the man noticed the imminent danger, spinning around, but instead of running away screaming like any sane person, he straightened his spine — shoving Suguru back with surprising strength, arms spreading wide, firm on his ground, shouting, "Run!" — and Suguru did not realise why until after he had exorcised the curse with a call of his own, that the man had been trying to protect them, protect him, with his life.
The thought struck Suguru dumb, leaving him watching blankly as the man fretted over the children before, seemingly satisfied, he turned around to shoot Suguru a beaming, lopsided smile. "That was you, right? You really saved my hide. Thank you, I owe you big time," there was a touch on his shoulder – the man had patted him, "Let’s get out of here."
Suguru was helpless to follow the man into the car.
He sat, scrutinising the man as he buckled the children in and handed a water bottle to both, cautioning them to take slow sips lest they get sick. Then, he got into the driver’s seat, and they were off without a hitch.
As the man turned onto a lane, Suguru had arranged his scattered mind enough to ask, "Who are you? And where are we going?"
"Arataka Reigen," the man answered. "The best psychic of the 21st century."
A psychic, not a sorcerer? In any case, the man had no control over his cursed energy, which wafted from his skin, a twisted knot of anxiety-horror-anger tempered by warmth and care, a rare occurrence Suguru had come to know.
"I can read your scepticism," Reigen told him, smiling and unperturbed. "Anyway, I’m driving us to the hospital—well, not a hospital, but there’s a doctor here. They’ll treat the girls with the right incentive and enough money."
The thought of letting those children — Nanako and Mimiko, he reminded himself — interact with anyone from this village repulsed Suguru, and he blurted out, "No." That got him an eyebrow raise. "I have a friend who’s a reverse cursed technique user," a hint of confusion, which, impossibly, meant that Reigen knew next to nothing about sorcery, "She can heal. I only need to make a call. And then to my school to get these girls pulled out. They are like me. They can use cursed energy. They probably have already developed their techniques."
"Huh." Reigen looked fixedly at the road for a drawn-out moment, outwardly calm while his cursed energy fluctuated with confused distress, then his emotions suddenly reigned in, nodded. "Okay. We’ll find someplace to wait, preferably far from this village."
Suguru found that acceptable and pulled out his phone. He hesitated, thumb hovering over Shōko’s number, the gravity of everything he had been considering — massacring an entire village, forsaking the school and his title as a sorcerer — crashing down onto him like a freight train. The temptation was still there; despite having been smothered, the repugnance and rage he felt was the sort that burned and burned and left a deep, nasty, festering mark. Shōko would be able to detect his change, would know how fucking close he got — was — to breaking apart.
"Hey, you good there?"
Reigen’s voice hit Suguru like a bucketful of cold water, causing him to jerk out of his daze.
"I’m fine," Suguru said, too forceful to be convincing. He tapped the dial button, partly to avoid further probing, partly to spite the apprehension he felt for the interrogation he was inviting.
The call, fortunately, or not, connected right away.
"Shōko, I’m in a bit of a pinch. Are you free to..."
***
Arataka Reigen did not know what the fuck he was doing or how he ended up here, in the process of kidnapping two children from a bunch of abusive cultists alongside another teenager he had picked up on the way out. Who apparently was a psychic of some kind, one with abilities Reigen had never observed before — and the man had seen a lot.
Everything, like usual, started with a call.
The prospective client this time was a woman, her voice old and frail, worked up to an agitated, paranoid cadence, talking nonsensically about dreadful monsters and of people dying violently or vanishing without reason. She had wanted to hire him for an exorcism, and Arataka was preparing to write down her information, already planning to take Serizawa with him, when the woman had said, "Those terrible, vile, little beasts. We knew they would bring nothing but disaster. We should have gotten rid of them sooner."
Arataka had paused, the image he obtained beginning to transform.
He had made an understanding noise to the woman, and a few well-placed questions later, he had the general idea of a horrifying situation, one he had no choice but to go into entirely alone.
He told Serizawa to hold the fort down for the day, mentioning vaguely a personal problem. He rented a car, headed to the nearest supermarket, and called in a favour from Sakurai before unceremoniously departing.
Although Arataka had an inkling, that did nothing to prepare him for the sight of two children, faces swollen and mottled in bruises, stricken with fear, stuck in a fucking cage that stank of blood, piss and whatever else that did not bear thinking about. His heart had plummeted sickeningly into his stomach as the world had shattered around him, ripped off anything right or sacred. But he was there for a reason — could do something.
Arataka got down to business, scaring off the old hag who had shown him inside with an evil spirit he made up on the spot — selling the lie home with his dramatised display of fear and impending self-sacrifice — before taking out his trusty lock-picking kit, unlocking the door, and coaxing the two girls out.
He was in the middle of ushering the two out of the room when he heard people walking, talking, not far from outside the door. He warned the children as much before making both stay back and promise to run at his cue.
His hand was in his pocket, clenched around salt, as the doorknob turned.
Luckily, the door swung open quickly and all the way, letting him hit the two newcomers — a stout, middle-aged man and, bizarrely enough, a high-schooler still in uniform — in a single throw. Not as fortunately, the teenager negated his attack by throwing up an arm, protecting his face, but no matter — the children were already disappearing down the hallway, and Arataka was more than capable of taking down one person on his own.
That was when he glimpsed at the high-schooler’s face, contorted and looking at the stout man he came in with.
Arataka had recognised that look — of someone betrayed and broken, unfettered by morality and murderous, at the brink of unleashing devastating destruction — and Arataka had been terrified of the teenager, somehow knowing that he was dangerous, filled with a visceral fear that addled his mind and reduced him to some bumbling babe, but, at the critical moment, seeing that hand reaching out, threatening to mete out irreversible harm, Mob had crossed his mind, and he thought: would I let Mob go through with this?
The answer was a resounding no, so Arataka intervened, half-expecting to die for the trouble but somehow managing to drag the teenager behind him.
Now he was here, driving while trying to listen over said teenager on a call, barely understanding anything the other said. What the hell was his life coming to?
"—tell Yamato-san I apologise for acting without explanation. I’ll meet up with you tomorrow. Thank you for this, Shōko." The disconnect tone, and then the high-schooler was letting out an exhausted sigh.
Arataka was reluctant to check, which was evident in his voice as he said, "Everything all sorted then?"
The teenager turned to him and inclined his head. "Yes, my friend is leaving for the train, and she’ll take a taxi from there."
"All right. There’s a motel I saw, I think…" Arataka tapped a finger on the wheel, trying to recall, "Maybe two hours away? We could go there. Unless you have a specific place in mind where we could stay?"
The high-schooler shook his head.
"Okay, we’ll go there then." Arataka thought about what the children might have needed. Water, food, warmth, a bath, medical care to prevent infection. The last two would have to be handled at the motel. He cranked up the heater and said, "Nanako, Mimiko, is there anything you can’t eat?"
"No," Nanako replied.
"Okay." Arataka hoped that was true. There was no way for him to confirm, unfortunately. "In the white plastic bag, there’s a thermos flask with broth inside and a container of fruits and boiled eggs that you can share. Try not to eat too fast — you’ll upset your stomach — and stop as soon as you feel full. I promise to get you something better later, okay? Also—" Arataka glanced at the teenager.
"Suguru Getō," he supplied.
"—Getō-kun, there’s also onigiri. If you can eat that, it’s yours."
"I’m fine," Getō said, and Arataka was not having that.
"Please eat," Arataka insisted. "The onigiri was something I brought for myself, so take it. Nanako, Mimiko, could one of you give him the onigiri?"
There was a twitch in Getō’s expression before a placid smile settled over his face. Arataka shuddered.
"Anyway," Arataka said, bulldozing through his discomfort as he usually did, observing through the corner of his eye as Getō accepted an onigiri, "we’re not going to get attacked by another one of those spirits, are we?"
Arataka tried not to let his apprehension show at that prospect. Almost dying once was one time too many, and neither Serizawa, Mob, nor Ekubo were with him.
"We won’t," Getō responded with a frankness that swiftly convinced Arataka of his truthfulness. "I’m handling them right now."
"…You are?"
Getō was not covered in the colourful sheen that Arataka associated with psychic use. Then again, he had not been when he employed that evil spirit earlier. To know that the teenager had been using his abilities the entire time while boxed in a car and carrying a conversation like normal…
"That’s pretty amazing."
Getō only smiled.
Arataka was starting to notice a pattern. "Right. Well, I’ll let you concentrate on that."
***
For a long moment, the ride was spent in uneasy silence, broken up occasionally by the rhythmic tap-tap-tap of Reigen’s finger against the steering wheel.
The man was a coiled ball of anxiousness, glancing between Suguru, the road, and Nanako and Mimiko through the rear-view mirror. The whole time, that undercurrent of concern and warmth remained, which had made his outpouring of cursed energy tolerable and was the single reason stopping Suguru from hurling him out of the vehicle.
Suguru did not know what to make of Reigen. Other than the fact he was a contradictory mess, of course.
The man felt fear and was evidently more than a little perturbed by Suguru, but that seemed to have no bearing at all over his behaviour. Rather than freeze or flee from a curse that clearly outmatched him, the man had voluntarily stayed in a futile attempt at protection, and, despite knowing that Suguru was more than capable of looking after himself — he was seventeen, for fuck’s sake, and a special-grade sorcerer, which showed — the man was still concerning himself over him.
Reigen was some blend between an ordinary human and a sorcerer; his knowledge of sorcery was close to zilch, and he had no cursed energy control. Yet he could see curses — albeit only those above third grade, a fact Suguru had checked; something which in and of itself was unheard of in the sorcerer community, either one saw or didn’t — and he was taking Suguru’s technique in great stride.
The last point was significant. That meant some measure of exposure, maybe not with the sorcerer world exactly, but certainly with curses and using abilities to exorcise them.
With that thinking, Reigen being a psychic with supernatural gifts was becoming increasingly likely, although acknowledging that as a possibility further confused Suguru.
Why had no one caught onto Reigen’s existence or of those like him? Why was his capacity to see curses so selective? What else was he capable of? Was he dangerous? Why was he here? What were his motives?
Reigen was a big fat question mark, and Suguru was wary.
"Finally," Reigen muttered, sagging in relief the moment the car breached the village border.
As though fate had been tempted, a phone began to ring, coming from Reigen’s general direction.
"Damn," Reigen cursed before he indicated to the left and stopped on the side of the road. "Sorry, that’s probably my co-worker," he explained, grabbing his phone and sending Suguru an apologetic expression, "It’s better if I get that now than later." Reigen did not wait for an answer before he pressed on the screen.
Immediately a voice was heard. "Reigen-san, is everything okay?"
"Yo, Serizawa," Reigen replied with a calmness he did not feel, "Sorry about rushing out earlier. A family member of mine collapsed and was hospitalised, so I had to step out." There was guilt in the air, alongside apprehension.
A muffled thump, like something had fallen. "Is your family member okay?! Are you okay?! If there’s something I can do, all you need to do is say the word."
Reigen smiled, one bursting with fondness even as the guilt intensified. "Nothing that can be helped, I’m afraid, except for lots of rest and proper eating. My mother is notoriously bad at looking after herself, you see, and she ended up fainting. I'll stay with her a bit, so I won’t be coming in. You should take the rest of the week off, Serizawa."
There was a thoughtful pause, then Serizawa offered, "I can manage our clients for a few days."
A trace of uncertainty. "Are you sure that’s a good idea?"
"I can do it. Please let me do this much for you, Reigen-san."
Reigen’s cursed energy descended into a complex storm of emotions, too complicated and changeable for Suguru to comprehend. "You’re a great help, Serizawa," Reigen stated. And there was pride in his tone, intermingled with a bit of sadness, "I’m counting on you."
"Yes, Reigen-san! I hope your mother gets better soon. Please don’t be afraid to call if you need anything!"
A huff of breath, fondly exasperated, quiet enough to unlikely have been carried over the call. "See you Monday, Serizawa."
"See you then. Please take care of yourself in the meantime, Reigen-san."
"You as well." Reigen promptly ended the call and slid the phone back into his pocket. He sighed deeply before changing gear and flicking on the right indicator light.
"Ask away," he said with a quick look at Suguru, merging back onto the lane, "You’re practically bursting with questions."
"You work as a psychic?" Suguru questioned.
"Yep," Reigen affirmed. "We help people who come in with supernatural problems, and even when they don’t too."
"But you don’t—"
"Have a presence, right?" Reigen cut in. "I’m not an esper. Psychokinesis and the like are beyond me."
Suguru paused for a moment. Esper? Was that another term for a sorcerer? Then, the last sentence fully sunk in. Psychokinesis. And by Reigen’s wording, that was likely an ability shared among all espers. From that, Suguru felt safe tentatively concluding that espers were likely distinct entities from sorcerers.
He pointed out, "You can see spirits, though."
"Ah, you see, these," Reigen said, tapping a finger under an eye, "are the result of my former disciple using his psychic abilities on me. Not for nefarious reasons, to be clear. Otherwise, I’m just your average person with no supernatural ability."
Amazingly, Reigen was not lying.
His inability to see curses over second grade probably meant he did not know his negatively valenced feelings were being broadcasted for Suguru to parse. Much less was the likelihood of Reigen even getting the idea to manipulate that cursed energy to conceal or mislead. As such, Suguru had a means to reading into Reigen’s emotional state, and the lack of change in nervousness, and the absence of guilt or anticipation, all indicated that he was being truthful.
Reigen was not a sorcerer. He was not a genuine psychic or esper. He was, for all intents and purposes, an ordinary person.
"Isn’t that risky?" Suguru asked rather than examining the wealth of thoughts that knowledge dredged up.
"Well, yes," Reigen admitted. "But I had Mob with me and my co-workers now. I may be unable to deal with malevolent spirits, but they can. I handle everything else for the most part."
"You’re here now," Suguru said slowly, "doing fieldwork in a village infested with spirits."
"I am," Reigen said, and the laugh that followed had a hysterical, daunted edge. He seemed to catch himself, calming down, and elaborated more softly, "I got a call this morning at the office. From a careless remark, I figured something shady might be occurring, so I prodded her. When I got her to clarify—"
Reigen did not finish his sentence, grimacing.
After a second, he continued, "My co-workers... They are good people. If they had seen what was happening in that village, they would have been wrought with devastation, overcome by fury. Especially Serizawa, who is crazy powerful. If he lost control of his psychic abilities… I don’t really care about what would happen to those villagers, but he would, whether they deserved it or not, and the guilt—the guilt would’ve destroyed him," a fierce, protective glint entered his gaze, "I can do this much for them on my own."
Suguru hummed, mouth thinning. He took a good look at Reigen.
The man was slight, frame lean and of middling height. He had soft pale skin that would tear easily, a body that would bend and break readily and heal sluggishly, without the reinforcement of cursed energy.
Had Suguru not been there…
A picture flashed into his head of Reigen torn asunder, reduced to scrapped meat, limbs contorted, his eyes dull and lifeless.
An icy feeling crept inside Suguru, which he ignored, focusing on Reigen’s voice as the other asked, "Before you mentioned a school. Is that where you’re taking Nanako and Mimiko? To train them as espers?"
Suguru hummed, considering.
"We’re not espers," Suguru finally disclosed, "We’re sorcerers."
The floodgates were opened, and words spilled from Suguru’s mouth in a steady stream, first telling Reigen about cursed energy, building upon that and expanding. His explanations were concise and blunt, never shying away from the dark and gory aspects of being a sorcerer.
Reigen listened quietly, becoming paler with every sentence, his cursed energy ramping up to the max, unsettled and growing protective.
Eventually, Suguru tapered off, and the car descended into a thick, heavy silence.
The quiet did not last long. "So Nanako and Mimiko will become wards of your school, correct? They’ll be looked after there?"
"Yes," Suguru answered. "Food, housing and basic education will be provided. They’ll be cared for and prepared to the best of our abilities."
Reigen nodded. "Good. That’s good." But the tight grip around the steering wheel, the brittle strength to his tone, like he was trying and failing to convince himself, belied his conflict.
Reigen said no more, and Suguru did not either.
In the distance, a cluster of buildings approached.
***
Now and again, an idea would enter Suguru’s mind — of killing Reigen and then slaughtering the villagers before taking the twins and disappearing into obscurity. But then he’d remember Nanako and Mimiko, looking up at the man in quiet reverence. Or of Reigen himself, the small expanse of his back shielding him — and the thought would slip away like water off a board.
***
"Wait in the car for a bit," Reigen said, unbuckling his seatbelt as a hand reached for the latch, "I’m going to get us a room." He got out and stood for a moment, gaze travelling from the two children to Suguru, before he shut the car door. Suguru watched as the man walked and disappeared behind the glass door to the reception area before twisting in his seat to look behind him.
Nanako and Mimiko sat quietly, observing him with open curiosity and no perturbation.
"How are you two feeling?" Suguru asked, genuine concern colouring his voice.
There was no answer for a long moment, long enough that Suguru began to expect none, but one of the twins spoke up. "Getō-sama, is Reigen-sama not coming with us?"
Suguru paused, not expecting the question. "No," he settled on saying, "As he said, Reigen-san is different from us. He can’t go to the same place we are. He’s a non-sorcerer."
Both children wilted in disappointment. Nanako fisted her tattered dress, "But—"
"Nanako," Mimiko warned. She was frowning in disapproval, leery of crossing a line. Not that she needed to worry about that from Suguru. But, he supposed, that was something that had to be learned.
Nanako pouted, unhappy, and forged on, "Then will we at least be able to see him?"
Suguru suppressed a sigh. These children were certainly attached, not that Suguru could blame them.
"Of course," Suguru said. He would make that the case. After confirming the man could be trusted with the twins, that is. Then, whether Reigen took up on his standing invitation would be his decision.
Thankfully, Nanako was mollified.
At that moment, Reigen stepped out, seeming put out as he put away his wallet. The man ambled over, a hand in his pocket, mouth worrying at his lip, before he took a deep breath and visibly steeled himself, his stride lengthening.
"I got us a room," Reigen said after opening the door to the backseats, grabbing a bulging plastic bag. "Come on, Nanako and Mimiko," he urged and helped Nanako with the seatbelt when she struggled. The man moved to get out but caught his gaze and paused long enough to tell him, "We’re in room number three."
It was not far, located a few metres away. Reigen brought up the key and let them in.
The sorcerer surveyed the room and noticed a problem.
"…There are only two beds," Suguru said.
"I know," Reigen replied nonchalantly. "I could only afford one room. Don’t worry, the other bed is all yours. I can take the car for a night." Reigen shuffled inside, ushering Nanako and Mimiko in and switching on a light.
Suguru hummed, closing the door behind him. He stood back, observing for a moment, as the man placed down his plastic bag and took out a medical kit. Suguru had met many people, but none as inscrutable as Reigen.
What sort of person dropped everything to find two mistreated children in some backwater village in the countryside? What kind of person made a living out of lying, boosting himself up as the finest psychic when he had no psychic power to speak of?
Two different questions, both about the same person. And they led to differing answers.
Supplies assembled, Reigen brought his attention to the bathroom with the air of someone embarking on a perilous journey.
"Okay," the man said, more to himself. He looked to Nanako and Mimiko. "To the bathroom, we must go, Nanako and Mimiko. I need to rid any wounds of dirt and other muck before disinfecting and covering them. I’m sure neither of you are fond of how you are smelling right now, yeah?" The two nodded. "And I’m sure you two would like a change of clothes, right?" That got him a more enthusiastic response. "Great," Reigen said with a clap, "Who wants to go first?"
Nanako volunteered immediately.
Suguru clenched his jaw, clamping down a scowl. He would prefer he treated the twins himself, but his medical knowledge was abysmal, having grown to rely on Shōko for healing.
"Let’s go in," Reigen said, leading Nanako inside before shutting the door — or he would have had Suguru not intercepted.
"Getō-kun," Reigen said, a furrow between his brows. "Do you need the bathroom?"
Suguru shook his head, "I would prefer that the door is kept open, is all."
That got him a spike of horror that quickly became wrapped in protectiveness. "I don’t think that is a good idea."
"No," the sorcerer insisted, "Please keep the door open."
Reigen straightened up, his face tightening. He really did not like that idea. "Look, I may not look like much, and I’m certainly not a doctor, but first aid? That I’m decent at. These two are in good hands. I promise you that. Trust me?"
No — Suguru did not trust him, but the sorcerer did not want to make a scene. Nanako and Mimiko were already distressed by the disagreement, and the man had yet to do anything shifty.
"Fine," Suguru conceded but manifested a third-grade curse, unseeable by Reigen and perfect for surveillance. He stationed the spirit in the bathroom — the second Reigen tried anything funny, Suguru would know, and the man would die.
Reigen relaxed. "Thank you."
The door closed.
***
Arataka felt like he could crumble with relief. He understood where Getō was coming from in wanting to keep Nanako and Mimiko within sight and not trusting them with anyone else, but there were some things Arataka would prefer not to let a teenager bear witness to if he could help it. It was not as though Getō knew first aid anyway — or else he would have volunteered — so no reason necessitated his presence.
"Do you need any help with your clothes, Nanako?" Arataka asked and received a shake of the head.
Reassured, he busied himself with setting up the first aid kit and organising his various bottles and containers that stored soap, disinfectant, and ointment.
"I’m done," Nanako informed him.
"Okay," Arataka said. He shrugged his blazer off and placed the article out of the way before rolling up his sleeves. Thankfully, Arataka noted, the shower came with a detachable head.
"I’m going to give you a shower," Arataka said, kneeling so he was on eye level with the girl. "The pressure will hurt, but the grime needs to get off you. I’m sorry to ask this of you, but bear with me, okay? I’ll try to be as fast as possible."
"Okay," Nanako said, nodding solemnly.
Arataka turned on the shower and fiddled with the knobs until the water ran warm. Without further ado, he started with her hair and broke into a story of a case, keeping his voice light and stable even as his heart shattered inside at how quiet Nanako was, stoically enduring the pain. Horror pressed down on him suffocatingly before the evidence of the barbarity that humanity was capable of, laid out in excruciating detail, but Arataka was now an expert at compartmentalising.
Mechanically, Arataka worked: wash until the water ran clear, dry off, disinfect, suture any cut too long or too deep, rub ointments onto burns and bruises, and bandage up. All the while, regale her with stories and pray the pain might become duller. At least, he succeeded in getting her to laugh — a sound like chimes that soothed the frayed edges of him.
What felt like not soon enough, Arataka had done what he could and handed Nanako a bundle of clothes, which she wore as he cleaned up the bathroom.
When everything was over, he ruffled her hair. "Nanako," he said, looking at her squarely in the eyes with all the warmth he could muster, "I’m very proud of you. You were extremely courageous and strong."
Arataka watched as the girl preened and managed a sincere smile.
***
"I’m going to go get us something to eat," Reigen said after he had donned his jacket, face distantly polite despite the way his cursed energy thrashed, horror and sadness and fury, all tied together by the heavy, writhing need to do good, to be enough, to fix this. "Is there anything in particular you want?"
Suguru shook his head. "Not that I can think of."
Reigen directed his gaze at Nanako and Mimiko. "How about you two?"
The pair of children mulled over his question.
Unexpectedly, Mimiko was the one who spoke though hesitantly.
"Before… My hair… Could you tie it up?"
Reigen nodded his head quickly. "Of course, you can count on me. I am the great Arataka Reigen after all." Suguru wanted to snort, bemused despite the bitter nostalgia the statement brought forth. He wondered what Satoru was doing now…
"I saw a convenience store earlier. I’m sure there’ll be brushes. And maybe, if we’re lucky, some hair ties available." Nanako and Mimiko brightened up. Reigen patted each twin on the head. "Be good for Getō-kun, yeah?"
There was a brief touch on his shoulder as Reigen passed by him. "I’ll be back in a bit—oh," he removed his hand, searched his jacket, and pulled out a notepad and pen, "If anything comes up," he said as he wrote, "here’s my number." He ripped off a page and held the sheet to Suguru, who accepted.
"Thank you."
A nod and Reigen was sweeping out.
Suguru settled on the cushion at the table. There was little more inside the room than an eating area and a place to sleep. Nanako and Mimiko had taken up a bed, bundled inside a blanket that Reigen had wrapped around them. They both had noticed the curse but said nothing. All they did was look at him knowingly.
"Getō-sama, do you not trust Reigen-san?" Nanako asked.
Reigen had requested the pair to change the honorific the first time one of them called him by name, his curse energy souring with self-loathing. Suguru suspected that his distress had swayed the twins because even after the sorcerer had said the same, the two continued using sama for him.
"No," Suguru admitted.
"But why?"
Suguru was not sure how to answer.
He had felt as though he was drowning, dragged down by the grasping hands of those powerless and desperate and voracious, into oceans of the most perverse, the most heinous, the most wretched of thoughts, polluted with the blood and rot of all he loved.
Suguru had been faltering, his conviction flagging under the pressure of the merciless march of time, mission after mission after mission, coming back to fewer people than there were before, and questioning: are non-sorcerers worth this?
Before that cage, for a moment, Suguru had his answer. Had known precisely where he stood, that he was going to betray his oaths and principles as a sorcerer. And that certainty had been euphoric.
Then Reigen appeared and forced him back to square one. Again, Suguru was floundering, and a part of him resented the man for that. The sorcerer knew he was searching for affirmation — for some darkness in Reigen so grave and detestable that Suguru could forsake him without guilt.
Was that unfair?
Maybe, but he had little care to spare.
"I have to be careful," Suguru said, which was the closest to the truth he allowed himself to get.
The pair exchanged a glance, and then Nanako changed the topic. "Could you tell us about where we’re going, Getō-sama?"
His mouth quirked up, touched.
"Well…"
Reigen returned as Suguru was in the middle of ending his recount of that time Satoru catapulted him up to the third floor during a spar, and Yaga had them kneeling for hours because he had landed in the playroom and terrified little Panda into bawling.
"I come bearing goods!" Reigen announced.
His face was flushed from the cold, and his eyes were rimmed with redness, but his cursed energy was muted, hanging around him like mist, there but elusive, conveying nothing.
Nanako and Mimiko shot up and crowded the man, the two welcoming him with a hug. Reigen grinned, cupping each softly on the head. "I’m glad to see you too."
"What did you get?" Nanako pressed impatiently.
Reigen gave her an amused look. "You’ll see. Let me get to the table, and I’ll show you." The pair stepped to the side immediately and trailed after the man, openly curious.
"Since the broth went down fine," Reigen explained as he emptied the plastic bag he had been carrying. "I thought that miso soup would probably be okay. A nice man allowed me to use the kitchen of his restaurant after I explained a bit of the situation to him. There are also some more eggs and fruit. Eat slowly and stop the moment you’re full."
Nanako and Mimiko dug into the food while looking at Reigen expectantly.
As demanded, with a histrionic "Ta-da! ", Reigen presented a brush and bundle of hair ties, causing the twins to light up. "I’ll do up your hair later. I’ll even teach you how to braid if you want."
"Yes!" Nanako exclaimed, bouncing in her seat. Mimiko nodded more reservedly, but she leaned closer, interested.
Hairbrush and accessories put out of the way, Reigen grabbed out a plastic container, which he slid to Suguru. "This I did not make myself. I forgot to ask if you had any allergies or dietary restrictions, so I got something simple."
Suguru looked inside.
"It’s zaru soba," the sorcerer said. "This is fine." More than that, actually — Suguru was pleased. Not that he would admit that. "And there is nothing in particular that I cannot eat."
Reigen slumped a little. "Good, good. Eat up." The man had an onigiri, and between bites, he said, "I also got some painkillers and toothbrushes. Getō-kun, do you think you could help them with taking the medication and freshening up?"
"Of course."
"Thank you," Reigen said, taking his last bite and wiping his face with a tissue. The man was apparently a messy eater. "I’ll be out for a bit. I rented the car I brought and would like to get all the blood off." And to the twins, "Nanako, Mimiko, listen to Getō-kun, okay?"
Both managed out a muffled "Okay."
"I’ll be at the front," Reigen said, and he was gone.
After the meals had been eaten — and Suguru had managed to get the children to take the medication, and they all had brushed their teeth — the three of them were piled on the bed, Suguru in the middle as they all looked through the gallery on this phone showcasing various hairstyles.
When Reigen let himself back in, Nanako jumped onto her feet, grabbing the man by the sleeve and tugging him inside.
"Reigen-san, look!" Nanako exclaimed. "I think Mimiko will suit this." Suguru turned the screen around, and Nanako pointed to the picture she was referring to. "See?"
The man rubbed at his chin thoughtfully, bending down slightly to get a better view. "A waterfall braid, huh?" He gazed at Mimiko. "What do you think, Mimiko? Do you want to try it? I think this style would suit you."
The girl nodded, hope gleaming in her eyes.
"Let me wash up first, then we can start." Reigen went into the bathroom, toiletries in hand.
"I don’t think the four of us can fit on the bed," Suguru noted. "Mimiko, do you want to sit on the other bed while Reigen braids your hair or at the table?"
The twins answered as one. "The table."
Suguru guided Nanako and Mimiko to sit on the cushions and pulled out a blanket which he draped over the two children. The sorcerer was settling next to Nanako when Reigen came out. The man immediately sat behind Mimiko, legs crossed, and brought up the brush. He began untangling her hair with care.
"It’s been a while," Reigen mused. "Let’s hope that I haven’t gotten too rusty."
"How did you learn to braid hair?" Nanako asked, watching the process with great interest. Suguru noticed that Mimiko had her eyes closed, seeming content.
"From magazines and from what we could find online," Reigen said, gathering sections of Mimiko’s hair and weaving them together. "You see, there was a time my sister aspired to be a hairdresser. She did all sorts of things, from begging to bribing and badgering, to get me into a wig so she could practice doing the hairstyles she saw and liked. Once, she had me sitting for hours. And bored and uncomfortable, I asked her what took her so long. Frustrated, she said, ‘Well, how about you try.’ I did not see any appeal in hair arranging, but I didn’t like my sister implying that there was something I couldn’t do, so I did. Somehow, we ended up locked in a competition, challenging ourselves to try harder and harder braids, too prideful to let the other win. I remember studying and practising a lot."
"Who won?"
"Well…" Reigen grimaced ever so slightly. Suguru doubted that Nanako could tell. "We never got a second opinion. We were both convinced we were the best."
"Did your sister become a hairdresser then?"
"Nope," Reigen popped the word. "She works in a bank." He tied off the braid and said, "There we go. All done."
Mimiko opened her eyes, seeming a little disappointed. Meanwhile, Nanako was bursting out a feeling, "Wow!" She got up and did a half circle around the pair. "Mimiko, you look so pretty! Me next!"
Reigen patted the cushion Nanako vacated, and the girl listened to the wordless instruction.
"What do you have in mind?" Reigen prompted as he scooted behind her and started to brush her hair.
"I can show you," Suguru said. He pulled up the image that Nanako proclaimed she liked the best. "Nanako, is this what you want?" He showed her the picture.
"Yes!"
Suguru moved the screen closer to Reigen.
"A beaded braid," Reigen hummed. The man was about to set the brush down when he stilled. "Mimiko, do you want your hair un-braided?" The girl perked up and gave a quick bob of the head. He turned his gaze to Suguru. "Getō-kun, do you want to help?"
Suguru looked at Mimiko. When her eagerness did not wane at the prospect, he said, "I would love to."
Reigen handed him the brush.
They spent a while like that: Reigen painstakingly made a braid as he answered Nanako’s many queries about his childhood, Mimiko listening contently next to them as Suguru brushed and played mindlessly with her hair. Then, Mimiko yawned, and the children were coaxed to bed.
***
"Are you really going to sleep in the car?" Suguru finally pushed himself to question.
"Yep," Reigen said as he cleared out the table.
Suguru stared at the man from where he stood awkwardly between the beds, torn. Impulsively, he threw out, "I don’t mind sharing."
Reigen stopped and looked up at him blankly. "I think I misheard you. Could you repeat that again?"
"I don’t mind sharing."
The man let out a heavy sigh. "You should take more care of yourself, Getō-kun. What if I was a murderer, a pervert, or a paedophile?"
Suguru nearly snorted, finding the notion that Reigen could think he posed any harm to the sorcerer ridiculous. He briefly wondered how the man would react upon learning that one of those options applied to Suguru, that he was one of the three only special-grade sorcerers that currently walked the earth. Out loud, he challenged, "Are you?"
Reigen bristled, affronted, then slumped. "No," the man said tiredly.
"Then, what’s the problem? I doubt the car will be comfortable, and if anything happens, you’ll be right here."
The man cast a longing look at the bed. "Are you sure, Getō-kun?" He turned to Suguru, expression holding a weight that had the sorcerer pausing to think.
"Yes," he eventually decided.
"Okay," Reigen said, focusing back on his previous task. "Go sleep. You’ll need your energy for tomorrow."
***
Suguru breathed.
Reigen was right next to him.
This close — even with his eyes shut — his presence was large. Suguru could smell him: the scent of orange bergamot and wood, of an ocean breeze. He could feel the warmth of him and the whir of his worry and horror. There was no doubt that Reigen was lingering on the circumstances the Nanako and Mimiko were found in, sleep too eluding him.
His mind stirred again; to kill or not to kill.
Would Reigen cry? Beg? Curse him?
Something in him goaded at him to move, to find out, but Suguru remained rooted.
Between one moment and the next, he fell into an uneasy slumber.
***
Suguru came slowly to a whimper, which had him drowsily turning over to see Reigen standing over the other bed.
The sight zapped Suguru of his grogginess, and he started to move, silent, thinking the man was doing something unsavoury and planning to murder him for the mistake — but then, Suguru registered the familiar low tenor, murmuring, "Wake up. Mimiko, wake up." Suguru stilled. A sharp gasp. "There you are. You’re okay. You’re safe. You’re at a motel with me and Getō-kun. Do you remember?" A pause. "Good. You were dreaming. You’re okay." Sobbing. Reigen shifted to the left. "Can I lift you?"
Suguru heard no reply, but Mimiko must have conveyed an affirmative because the man was picking her up off the bed and settling her on his lap, positioned to the side so that Suguru had a decent view. He hugged her gingerly, likely trying to not press on a wound and hurt her. Mimiko seemed to not have the same reservation, immediately burying her face into Reigen’s shoulder, weeping, and clutching onto him desperately with strength, like she was afraid the man would disappear.
Reigen continued to murmur, his voice a steady, lulling hum, assuring her. A hand was carding through her hair, purposefully gentle.
Suguru watched, lying silently as the crying gradually tapered off, Mimiko drifting into an exhausted sleep. Reigen quickly noticed, standing up and putting her on the bed carefully. He tucked her in, taking a second to brush her hair back before straightening up. He stretched, sighing as his spine cracked, and then turned around.
"Oh," Reigen said, spotting Suguru. "You’re up."
"You’re pretty good with children," Suguru commented.
"Am I?" Reigen said, and his smile was rueful. "Well, I had a disciple. Met him when he was very young. He tended to get hurt and cry a lot, and I found that that was one of the better ways of calming him down." He lost that wistful look in his eyes and stared at Suguru for a prolonged moment. Tentatively, he asked, "Hey, are you okay?" Reigen clicked his tongue, annoyed at himself. "How stupid, of course, you’re not. An experience like that would mess anyone up."
Reigen sat on the floor and met him squarely in the eye, gaze limpid and piercing. "You don’t want to be a sorcerer, do you?"
Suguru froze.
"That’s okay," Reigen said, so fucking effortlessly, as though the welfare of countless people did not depend on his contribution.
Not that Suguru cared anymore, all the significance, the meaning, was drained from the work that he had once applied himself to wholeheartedly, naïvely believing that he was doing good, that making the world a safer place was worth the sacrifices, standing idly as the people he grew to treasure suffered, literally running themselves into an early grave.
And for what?
A rotten world populated by human monstrosities that destroyed and violated and plundered, ever so greedy, quick to hate and to fear; the sources of the very curses that ravaged society, protected, as innocents laid their lives down in a perpetual war.
Fuck that.
Suguru would very much like to let the world burn — but Reigen, he was a non-sorcerer; he should care.
Instead, Reigen continued by saying, "Whether you use your powers, how you use your powers, for whom you use your powers — that is all decided by you and only you. If being a sorcerer brings you pain, if it brings you no fulfilment, then it’s fine to step back. Take a break, explore your options, and ascertain what you want. You can even find something else to do. Some other way to do good."
The strong should protect the weak a part of him continued to cry. But did that mean the gifted should be reared from birth for the violent, harrowing, tumultuous path of sorcerer? Did that justify the lives lost, often so young and unfulfilled, having yet to experience the full breadth of wonders life offered?
How could he change that?
Take a step back.
Reigen was telling him to be selfish.
But compared to the alternatives…
A beat of silence was enough for Reigen to start regretting, growing nervous, fearing that he had overstepped. The man attempted to wave off the feeling and offered jokingly, "Well, you’re welcome at Spirits and Such," before embarking on a tangent about his agency, sounding increasingly suspect as he went on, brazenly deflecting.
Suguru let Reigen talk, contributing enough — a question or a hum here or there — to make Reigen believe he was engaged and keep the man chattering. Privately, his thoughts whirled away, flipping the proposal over in his mind. He found the notion not so unpleasant.
Take a step back.
Maybe Reigen was onto something.