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It’s the first time Reigen has trusted Serizawa with taking a job without him and he cannot mess this up.
Reigen has been swamped lately, and while he’s out on one job with Teru, Serizawa and Shigeo are taking another job on the opposite side of the city, where busses seldom venture and streets run eerily vacant. The houses aren’t as well-kept here and the spaces between them are of greater distance. Dark, swirling clouds above them speak of a dreary journey home, and for once, he doesn’t have an umbrella.
As they walk towards their destination, Shigeo holds out a hand and leaves it raised for a moment or two before dropping it down to his side. He doesn’t say anything; he’d been merely observing, but Serizawa studies his face and knows there’s something on his mind. He isn’t as good at reading people as Reigen, but Shigeo isn’t hard to figure out.
“What are you thinking about?” Serizawa asks after one final contemplation.
Shigeo stares ahead and doesn’t answer, and it’s only now Serizawa realizes his folly. He reaches out and taps Shigeo on the shoulder lightly, and once he has the boy’s attention, he says (quite clumsily),
Are you thinking about something?
Shigeo nods and looks up at the sky before responding.
It hasn’t rained for a while,
he observes.
I hope it does.
Do you like the rain?
Serizawa asks.
Shigeo nods again.
Always have,
he replies lightly.
I think it’s nice. Soothing. Good tea weather.
They come to the crosswalk and Shigeo jabs the button. There aren’t many drivers out today, and barely a second passes before the signal flashes green and they make their way across the street.
What about you?
Shigeo hops onto the curve and falls in step beside Serizawa again, taking two steps for every one of his.
What do you think about the rain?
Serizawa ponders. He doesn’t have to think for very long.
I don’t hate it,
he answers, movements small and restrained.
But I don’t particularly love it.
Shigeo gives him a look that says clearly he isn’t convinced, but his hands remain at his sides and nothing more is said between them.
Serizawa, though a bit flustered and
very
out of his element, did his best to communicate the problem with the client, who took in everything he said like it was the most important thing she’d ever heard in her life. Taking care of the spirit afterward was nothing short of a piece of cake; Shigeo let Serizawa handle it in hopes that it would help him become more confident with his powers, and admittedly, Serizawa was surprised by how smoothly it went. He hadn’t expected that.
They’re on their way home now, and the thunder is closer than ever. It’s practically right on top of them, pounding overhead like muffled stomps on a rooftop. Shigeo doesn’t seem particularly concerned (and Serizawa realizes a bit too late that he physically cannot hear it), but Serizawa can’t help but flinch every time a burst of thunder rolls overhead.
Wanna grab dinner?
Shigeo asks, and his movements tear Serizawa out of his thoughts as viciously as a wild cat tearing into its prey. He tries to hide his flinch, but the slight twitch in Shigeo’s face proves it hadn’t gone unnoticed.
Serizawa looks up at the sky again, wishing he had an umbrella—or really, anything—to clutch. Even though he isn’t reliant on his old umbrella anymore, even though he doesn’t
need
it, having something to hold onto has always helped. It grounded him. Made him feel real.
His fingers have no feeling. His feet are heavy. “I don’t know,” Serizawa admits, looking down. “It looks like it could start raining anytime now and we’ve only got one chance to catch our bus, I’m not sure it’s worth the risk—”
It’s like fate had been grinning down at him maliciously this whole time, because the clouds rupture with a particularly loud burst of thunder, and the rain comes pouring down on them in buckets.
Shigeo barely flinches. Serizawa
does,
no matter how hard he tried to stop it, and the instant the thunder has passed, he knows he’s done it. He’s
really
done it, this time. It’s stupid that a storm could disjoint him this much after so many years. It doesn’t make
sense.
Before he has the chance to try brushing it off with a laugh or a lie, Shigeo has taken him by the elbow and is tugging him down the sidewalk at a brisk pace. Serizawa is so shocked by the suddenness that he almost trips over his feet.
“What are you…?” Serizawa starts, only to stop when he realizes. Shigeo has taken the lead, walking forward with his head held high and Serizawa dragged behind him.
He wonders, briefly, if Shigeo had done it on purpose.
Is there a reason why you hate the rain?
They’re sitting at the bench at the bus stop now; after a short discussion they’d decided to take the bus home instead, and the stop makes for a nice, sheltered spot while they wait. A few droplets find their way through the cracks in the overhang, but it isn’t enough to really bother him.
You don’t have to share if you don’t want to,
Shigeo says before he can fully register the question.
But if you’re alright with it, I’m listening. Or.
He gestures vaguely.
I’m paying attention.
Serizawa sighs heavily, fingers clenched, elbows resting on his legs as he hunches forward. Shigeo doesn’t repeat himself and eventually, Serizawa resigns. He turns on the bench to face Shigeo fully and Shigeo does the same toward him.
“You know the story behind my psychic powers,” Serizawa says. “How I used to lock myself away and hide from the rest of the world. And you know why.”
Shigeo takes a moment to study him—and it’s a moment that lasts a lifetime—before nodding. Serizawa takes a breath and goes on. This time, he remembers to sign what he knows along with himself.
“Well, once—after Claw took me in—” (The name still leaves a bitter taste in the back of his throat), “—there was an incident. I don’t really remember what happened. I don’t even think I knew I was doing it. But I pulled the clouds toward us until they were right overhead, and—well.”
He takes a moment to compose himself, to steady his hands, without daring to look at Shigeo’s face.
“Meteorologists never knew how to explain it, they never could,” he goes on, “but, it was one of the worst storms Japan ever experienced. I still see people talking about it online sometimes, debating how it began and why. It came out of nowhere.”
Shigeo hasn’t moved. Serizawa wishes he could stop, but he knows no good will come out of that. One of the first things Shigeo told him (and Reigen, too, the one time it was brought up) was that bottling things up never ended in anything but disaster.
“... So, I guess I’ve always kinda tied the rain to the old version of myself,” Serizawa finishes hurriedly, desperate to have this over with. “It reminds me of who I used to be, and… yeah. I don’t like it.”
The stillness that follows rekindles every single bad thing he’s ever felt, and they do
not
coexist well.
If there’s one person in the world whose opinion he values more than anyone else’s, it’s Shigeo. Reigen comes at a close, near-tie second, but first and foremostly is Kageyama Shigeo, Serizawa’s first friend, who’s stuck by his side through thick and thin ever since the day they’d met. He’d guided Serizawa through the bumpy trails of psychic powers with patience unmatched, but never in a condescending way. He saw Serizawa’s potential and soon enough, he taught Serizawa to see it too.
Now he’s relinquished this childish fear to the person he respects the most, and for the first time in a long time, he’s
scared.
And then Shigeo stands up.
Serizawa lifts his head and watches as he takes one step forward, then another. One footfall after the other until he’s standing in the middle of the empty street, back still turned, not a vehicle or passerby in sight. The rain has long since soaked his hair and clothes, but when he turns to Serizawa, he’s smiling in a way that hints towards him not being bothered at all.
Can I show you something?
he asks, and Serizawa can do nothing else but utter a small, shaky
yes.
Shigeo’s smile grows in the slightest, before he closes his eyes, draws a breath, and throws out his hand.
All around them, the rain comes to an abrupt standstill. Just like that, in mid-fall, as though time itself had frozen their path. But it isn’t time. It isn’t nature. It’s a seventeen year old boy, with nothing more than a thought and a flick of his wrist.
This would have been enough to leave him dumbfounded, but then something else happens. Shigeo flicks his fingers before curling them into his palm and swiping his arm through the air in front of him. In the span of an instant, the rain has gathered itself into a long, thin ribbon, and it follows Shigeo’s movement as though he’s tied a string to it.
With another swipe of his arm, the ribbon dances, reflecting what sunlight had managed to peek through the downpour. Sunlight unnoticeable until now, as it shines off the surface of the water like thousands of stars.
One more swish, one more swipe. The rain dashes to keep up with him like the tail of a shooting star. In one final swoop, Shigeo throws his hand into the air above his head, rocketing the trail of rain straight upwards, higher and higher, into the sky.
Just when it’s about to break the clouds, it bursts and blasts like a firework, shattering and rejoining its fellow droplets as rain once again. The downpour resumes as Shigeo lowers his hand, with a smile brighter than any firework could ever hope to be.
I’m sure you already know this,
Shigeo says, and Serizawa looks past the awe in order to focus,
but psychic powers aren’t all doom and despair. Even if you make a mistake. Mistakes aren’t the end of the world. And they aren’t a true representation of your character.
Shigeo pauses for a moment, starting once or twice and stopping before Serizawa can make out a word, but eventually, Shigeo moves on.
I still struggle with it, too,
he admits, eyes cast downward towards his sopping shoes.
I still remember things I did, mistakes or otherwise, and I hate it too. Sometimes I hate myself over it. But I’m here now and I’m better than I’ve ever been, and… this might be forward of me to say, but we can walk this road together. And maybe we could be each other’s reassurance…?
He ends with a sort of puzzled look and trails off, frowning down at his sneakers like they’re to blame for this. It earns a small chuckle from Serizawa that Shigeo doesn’t even notice.
But, he thinks about it. And before he can reach a conclusion, Shigeo has started again.
I’m not saying you’ll be able to get over it completely,
Shigeo says, finally meeting his eyes,
or that it’ll be easy, but… psychic powers can be beautiful in the hands of good people. And now that you’re here and you’re moving forward, you finally have the chance prove to yourself what I and the rest of Spirits and Such already know.
Serizawa furrows his brow. “What do you already know...?”
Shigeo beams.
That you’re a good person.
The bus comes before Serizawa has the chance to let it all sink in, and Shigeo pulls a book from his backpack and starts reading as soon as they’ve boarded. While he reads, Serizawa finishes taking it in, finishes taking Shigeo’s words to heart, and he tucks them somewhere safe and close, where they will never be forgotten.
He doesn’t miss his umbrella anymore.