#banancreamphi

[fireflysummers]

Mob Psycho 100 Fanfiction Broken Promise

Serizawa tries to find his way home.

Part of The World Keeps Turning Series

A Little Tragedy || An Honest Assessment 

@bananacreamphi​ brought this upon your heads

Serizawa gets the news in the middle of a case.

The client is tearfully explaining a ‘haunting,’ and Serizawa’s phone goes off.

That’s rare, in and of itself. Despite the strides he’s taken in the past half-decade, it still takes him time to work up to calling people over the phone, with text messages as the preferred form of communication. Nobody is too critical of this. After all, social anxiety is an ugly thing with no real cure.

Serizawa’s phone rang so rarely that he never bothered turning off the sound, and even then was quick to silence it.  The few calls he got were either telemarketers or appointment reminders, neither of which were of extreme immediate importance.

But instead of taking his normal course, Serizawa starts at the number, recognizing it without having it registered in his phone. He scuttles off into a back room, leaving Reigen to handle the client on his own.

Reigen does well. He’s already gotten the hint from Serizawa that there is no actual spirit this time around, and that should be business as usual.

It isn’t.

Not even a minute passes from Serizawa’s sudden departure, before Reigen hears a crash in the back room.

“What’s going on?” demands the client, more startled than alarmed.

“My business partner has simply taken on the job of exorcising your spirit independently,” Reigen replies, without missing a beat. “It may get ugly from here, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave. No, no don’t worry about the payment this time. If you don’t see immediate signs of improvement, come back later and I’ll give a go at it.”

The woman is ushered out of the office just as the first items begin to float.

It’s been a long time since this has happened—Mob did it a couple times when he first started as a child, and Serizawa a few when he first joined up. Despite that, Reigen has long since become accustomed to keeping breakable objects stored where they are not so easy to pick up.

Reigen sighs, a sinking feeling in his stomach, then goes in after his employee.

Serizawa is in the corner of the room, curled into himself. He hasn’t noticed the various things floating around, and Reigen can see the shards of one of his teacups spinning gently in the air.  He avoids the sharp fragments before sliding down besides Serizawa, resting his back and head against the cool wall.

And they wait.

Reigen is not afraid. Has never been afraid, not since the strange, scruffy man with the umbrella had saved him from certain death.

Eventually, his arm wanders over Serizawa’s shoulders, grounding him in a half-embrace. Ignoring the shuddering gasps and telling sniffs from the much taller man.

Eventually, the objects come back down. Nothing crashes in any part of the office, so Reigen assumes his psychic-proofing has worked once again, but Serizawa isn’t done yet.

“Reigen-san,” he whispers at length, voice barely audible despite the silence of the back room. Reigen hums in recognition. “I think I have to quit.”

And just like that, Reigen’s brain shorts out.

“I’m sorry,” Serizawa says, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

“Serizawa, what’s this all about,” Reigen interrupts. Some awful shock must have come, for Serizawa to revert back to this pattern. His concern for his employee overrides the general feeling in Reigen’s stomach, like somebody has snatched a rug from under his feet. “What happened?”

“My…my mother’s in the hospital,” Serizawa replies, “She had a massive stroke, and she survived, but…they just don’t know how much…”

Serizawa continues to babble, trying to relay the bad news that he had received not long before in a coherent manner. Reigen lets him, barely listening. His mind is already racing away, steps ahead in the entire process.

“Okay,” Reigen says, a little surprised at the resolution in his own voice.

“What?” Serizawa asks, clearly surprised at how well Reigen was taking the news. “I mean…are you going to be okay? With Kageyama-kun at University, who will you have to help you run the consultation?”

“Serizawa,” Reigen tells him, gently now, “That doesn’t matter right now. I’ll find a way to manage, trust me, but right now we have to take care of you and your old mother.”

And suddenly Reigen is buried in a hug, the other man drawing him as tight and close as physically possible. It’s been a long time since Reigen’s found himself in this situation—almost a year actually, at a bus station as he said his (temporary) farewells to his first pupil before seeing him off to university. ‘s a little surprised at how…not awkward it is.

“I don’t want to leave you alone,” Serizawa says into his shoulder. “I’ll come back. I promise.”

“I know,” Reigen lies.

(They almost never do.)

  Serizawa goes home.

It’s a little weird, because despite spending so many years in the same house, in the same room, seeing the same people day in and day out…he couldn’t exactly say that he had been homesick.

Terrified, maybe, in case the President’s promises turned out moot (and they had, but that was beside the point).

But homesick?

He isn’t sure he knows what homesickness feels like.

At first, the weeks pass by in a blur of activity, so busy that he barely has time to unpack. His mother is still in the hospital when he arrives, and his time is consumed learning everything he needs to know about her current condition.

“She survived,” a doctor tells him, “But we don’t know if she’ll ever recover full movement on her right side. Her ability to walk, talk, and eat…everything will have to change now.”

“I understand,” Serizawa replies, and he does, truly, for the first time understand.

He understands that it will be a long time before he returns to Spice City.

But he thinks of his room, now dusty with misuse, and the many patient years his mother waited outside his door for his powers to calm down. He thinks of the comfort she gave him as a boy, and as he failed to grow into a man.

She had enabled him, perhaps, but that had been beyond her. Neither of them had been lucky enough to find somebody like Reigen at that phase in his life, and she had done her best.

And now he must do the same for her.

Serizawa goes home, but after a few months there he realizes why it feels weird.

When he thinks of home, he sees a small but tidy office that smells of incense and occasionally of stale cigarette smoke. He thinks of getting ramen at the same restaurant. He thinks of a confident voice, showing him that the future is indeed bright.

For the first time in his life, Serizawa realizes that he’s homesick.

  At the beginning of the third year, Serizawa gets a new job.

His third one.

His mother’s savings only go so far, and there are medical bills and care professionals to pay. That aside, being in his house for long periods brought unpleasant memories and a fear of relapsing into what he once was. So he dons his suit and tie (the one Reigen had bought for him), and goes out looking.

Even though she doesn’t say it, he can tell his mother is proud.

It’s a lot easier than he expected it to be.  He’s channels his ‘inner Reigen,’ although he is sure that the other man would laugh if he ever said it to him.  But the question of what Reigen would suggest or do keeps him going, when the anxiety threatens to swallow him whole. And in the end, it works.

It’s mostly manual labor, but with the subtle use of his powers he finds it to be enough. However, his earnest commitment doesn’t go unnoticed by the management, nor his unusual but effective leadership style.

By the end of the third year, Serizawa has been promoted twice.

  By the end of the fifth year, Serizawa is finally secure enough in his job and his mother’s stability that he takes an entire month off, to go home to Spice City.

It would have been nice to say that nothing has changed, but that would be a lie. Despite acting as young and spry as ever, Serizawa can see that time marches forward even for Reigen Arataka. He wonders if, as two years older, it’s begun to etch lines into his own face too. He’s been watching the gray hairs for a while now, and he expects to wake up any day with a head as white as snow.

So yes, things have changed by now. And yet they haven’t.

Kageyama-kun graduated with his undergraduate, and then to the surprise of everybody went on to pursue a Master’s Degree abroad.

Perhaps to an even greater surprise, though, was after all that—when the young man had apparently showed up on the doorstep of Spirits and Such Consultation, soliciting for a job.

(Reigen had refused, insisting that Mob go out and get a real job, one that paid him more than 300 yen an hour. Mob had agreed, finding a suitable desk job in his home city.)

As they recount the stories of the past couple years, Serizawa wonders if he’s ever seen Reigen so…happy. There’s a gleam of absolute pride every time Kageyama-kun—still shy and reserved, but holding himself with an incredible poise and confidence—so much as speaks or looks his way.

He’s happy for Reigen. Deeply.

And yet, he can’t shake the faintest thread of…envy? For Kageyama-kun’s great fortune of keeping his promise to return to Reigen. And perhaps a bit of resentment, for how the fates have not allowed him to do the same.

Envy and resentment. As he downs his drink, he wonders if it’s possible to rip those feelings out of him altogether. But that self-examination could wait for a while. For now he plans to toast to the success of his friends, and the future set before him.

He wonders instead if it would be cruel to Reigen, if Serizawa confessed his feelings for him now, not knowing when he would be able to return.  

He decides to risk it anyways—promises himself he will—before his vacation comes to a close.

Serizawa never gets the opportunity. That night he gets another phone call, informing him that his mother is again in intensive care, this time due to a mini-stroke.

He leaves Spice City the next morning.

  His mother dies at the end of the eighth year.

It’s a small ceremony, and Serizawa wonders if he’s a bad person to feel…relief, at her passing. The eight years acting as caretaker had drained them both, likely her more than him.

He couldn’t begin to imagine the torture of being trapped in a body that no longer worked—barely able to speak, struggling to eat without choking, resigned to a wheelchair and mindless hours of television.

And then, after so many years, Serizawa is once again free to do what he wishes.

And yet, for a reason he can’t explain, he doesn’t.  

He wonders if he’s haunted.

He knows he isn’t, because he can see spirits, plain as day, and his mother had passed on in peace. But that doesn’t stop the heavy weight pressing down on his shoulders. Can’t stop the feeling that he’s trapped, more than ever before.

This goes on for two years before Kageyama shows up at his door.

Serizawa is almost immediately ashamed, before he even fully registers the man’s presence.  After all, he is wearing his comfy clothes, lying around the house. Admittedly this is a Saturday, and he dresses smartly come the week days, but he fears that Kageyama will think he’s regressed back to the state he had been when they’d first met.

There was nothing to worry about, of course.

It was Kageyama after all.

“You should have called to tell me you were coming,” Serizawa tells him as he makes tea. He’s managed to keep the house clean, a habit carried over from years of acting as a responsible caretaker. There is nothing in this home for him to be ashamed of, he realizes.

“Sorry,” Kageyama replies, “That was rude of me. But I was…worried.”

“Whatever for?” Serizawa replies. And he’s honestly shocked, because he can’t think of any reason why he wouldn’t want to see the young man—his first true friend.

“Master Reigen is afraid that he’s done something to upset you,” Kageyama replies, “You stopped replying to us, after your mother’s death. Master Reigen supposes that you’re too afraid of hurting his feelings, and don’t want to tell him that you won’t be returning.”

Serizawa splutters into his tea, torn between shock and shame. This wasn’t Reigen’s fault in the slightest, but he should have expected his former employer to assume it was. He was too kind.

(It was one of the things Serizawa loved about him.)

“No,” Serizawa says, with greater determination than he has managed to muster in a while. “I promised I’d return, and I intend to keep that promise. It’s been hard, these past few years. I was afraid.”

“Of what?”

“It’s silly, but I was afraid that there would be no place for me to return to.” Serizawa can’t look into Kageyama’s eyes, despite knowing that there would be no judgement. “I was afraid, after so long…”

He can’t quite put to words the irrational thoughts that had chained him to this house once more. There was no excuse for his actions.

“I understand,” Kageyama replies at length, his stoic confidence wavering for a moment. Suddenly, Serizawa swears he can see the uncertain 14-year-old sitting before him once more. “I was the same way, when I came home from abroad.”

“That’s foolish,” Serizawa counters, “Reigen loves you. He would always have a place for you!”

“I know, but that doesn’t make it any easier, does it? For people like us, that is.” Mob falls silent for a moment, then continues. “He loves you too, you know. In a different way from the way he loves me. But he loves you enough that he wants you to live your life, free of him, if that’s what you want.”

Serizawa finds his head shaking of its own volition, tears brimming in his eyes as he listens to Kageyama’s words. “No. I don’t want that at all.”

“Then come home, Serizawa. Everybody is waiting for you.”

 Kageyama doesn’t stay for more than the afternoon, catching a late train back towards Spice City. Serizawa has barely said his goodbyes before running back into the house, mind suddenly abuzz with the things that must be prepared.

It wouldn’t be as simple as it had been before—he has a job to quit, an old house to care for, and new housing to search out. But for the first time in a while, he feels that the future is again bright before him.

  Serizawa never makes it home.

At the beginning of the eleventh year, the Spirits and Such gets a phone call without warning. There are no customers around, so Reigen takes the call.

When Mob visits that afternoon, he finds Reigen missing from his usual place. Instead, he finds his master tucked into the corner in the back room, every teacup he owns smashed to pieces against the floor.

Stroke runs in the family, after all.