[ right, the little brother. reigen saw a family photo at the kageyama household. that guy probably had no need for an arranged marriage; he seemed handsome, accomplished, a much more polished iteration of the man sitting across from him in this cafe.
still. who cares about polish? if reigen cared about polish he wouldn’t be hopping from job to job. ]
[ reigen meets mob’s dark even gaze for a few moments, then violently and with all his willpower suppresses a flush and stares down into his own tea. it’s probably cooled down a little. it’s tough to slow down when there’s so much to do. but--right. mob’s carefulness matches his carelessness, at least. he takes a sip, more ginger than the last, and that goes down fine. ]
Ah ... speaking of your brother ... I should meet him soon too, I guess. If we’re really doing this thing. [ engagement, he means. he pulls a face suddenly-- ] And you should probably meet my sister too. Though knowing her she’ll probably tell you to head for the hills.
...Don't take it very personally if Ritsu is the same way... he is just very protective.
[Their arrangement was already a bit strange, after all. Shigeo sipped a bit, finishing off his tea - but he'd gotten it a bit early already, and he didn't have as much trouble with heat as Reigen seemed to.]
Ritsu is really smart and cool, though, once you get to know him... hopefully you eventually get along. I'm very proud of him, he's going to a really prestigious school and he's considering a number of different jobs...
[ reigen is never really impressed by prestige or success, but it’s good info to take in anyway. over the top of his teacup he narrows his eyes a little, searching mob’s face for any hint of real jealousy, and comes up oddly empty. ]
You guys must be close, for you to talk about him like that.
She’s ... a lot like my parents. She’s doing well for herself too. Works at a bank.
[ he rubs a thumb idly against the side of his cup. ]
She’s not really the protective type. [ a beat, and then amending-- ] Or, well. She won’t be about this, anyway.
[ there’s subtext there, layered. a lot like his parents--the very parents that set him up in the first place because they were worried he was loveless and friendless. the parents who wished he had stuck it out at his job selling water coolers. the parents who never understood him, not really. ]
But hey, it doesn’t matter. What matters is whether we like each other.
[That seemed sad... Shigeo almost says something along those lines, but... that would be mean, wouldn't it? Instead he stays quiet, watching Reigen's thumb fidget.]
...Well, my parents seem to like you. I think it will all be okay.
[Shigeo sets aside his cup and folds his hands neatly on the table, waiting patiently for Reigen.]
[ reigen glances up at him. it’s a weird thing to state as fact.
but he isn’t wrong, either. it’s all gonna work out. reigen has a plan; he always has a plan. when this guy realizes he doesn’t want to be married to reigen, the business will already be a smashing success.
he drains his cooled tea and stands up, pulling his jacket from over the back of the seat. ]
[He'll leave money for their tea and tag along, letting Reigen do the talking and decision making for what the business needs - it was his idea, after all. They can arrange for the furnishing of the office, and Shigeo will roll up his sleeves and carry up each box with relative ease, even the hefty desk box.]
[ he ... he really did it. he really carried all of that flatpack up a flight of stairs ...
reigen helped, kind of. he led the way, directed, occasionally held up the other end of a small sofa--but he’s still doubled over, panting lightly, his own sleeves rolled up. he is noticeably more disheveled. ]
Yeah ... yeah, that should do it ...
[ and then, to distract from his tiredness-- ]
Didn’t ... didn’t I say something about my given name earlier ...
[ it’s only when he hears it out loud that reigen realizes he may have made a minor miscalculation.
reigen just--he’s good at people, not with them. he can count on one hand the number of friends he’s managed to keep since high school and college and still have fingers to spare. and even the people he likes, the regulars at his favorite and only bar--no one, he realizes, uses his given name outside of his immediate family. and here he is, just a few days engaged, giving this handsome weirdo carte blanche.
he can’t help the slight new sweat on the back of his neck as he accepts the bottle with a neutral sound of gratitude. shit. he hasn’t even been on a date recently,--that must be why this all feels really, really bizarre. ]
[ as soon as he says the name out loud, he frowns. it’s not a severe reaction, though; he huffs out something like a laugh afterwards before he drains a third of his water bottle. ]
I kind of like the nickname, though. Mob. I bet your friends call you that too sometimes, right?
If you don’t mind, I’ll stick with it for awhile. See how it feels.
[ a nickname feels a little like leapfrogging intimacy--a needle reigen wants to thread carefully, given their unusual situation. he collapses back against one of the office chairs and lets out a gusty sigh. ]
Well. If you aren’t too bored yet, we can start putting some of this stuff together ... and then we can get ramen or something later. How does that sound?
[ he rubs the side of his neck as if that can suppress the persistent flush that rises at the sound of his name. jeez, he should’ve tried to get out more before his parents dropped this engagement on him. at least he would’ve been better prepared.
he clears his throat, then reaches for a box cutter. ]
It's the first time in a long, long time that Shigeo was using his powers more openly. Reigen could be frustrating, especially with his lack of consideration for Shigeo's schedule or pacing... but he didn't ultimately mind. At the end of the day, people were grateful, whether they needed a curse expunged from their homes or a simple massage to lift their spirits.
One day, though, not yet a year into their working together, Shigeo was missing for one of the days of work. He didn't answer his phone - the thing went straight to voicemail, indicating it was off. It wasn't until the next day, about an hour after Spirits & Such opened, that the doorknob turned and Shigeo finally entered.
He was looking quite worse for wear. He had ugly bruises all over his face and hands, and a turtleneck only barely hid ugly purple marks around his throat that were already fading faster than should be humanly possible.]
Arataka...
[The esper's voice is just slightly cracked, but it didn't paint a pretty picture.]
[ months of work later, reigen is maybe getting too used to mob being at his beck and call. he mostly assures himself that these impositions aren’t real impositions, that mob doesn’t really have anything better to do, and anyway they’re engaged so they should be spending as much time together as possible anyway.
but it’s gotten to the point where it’s unusual when mob doesn’t respond promptly to a text or call, and after only a single night of radio silence reigen finds himself incredibly antsy. no, not just antsy--anxious, genuinely anxious. he stays overlong at the office and curses himself for not getting the kageyamas’ home number, catches with a passing eye and promptly ignores a broadcast about a train station getting ripped to pieces by seemingly supernatural causes--he barely even sleeps that night, tossing and turning in his low single bed. he checks his phone over and over again, the glow from zero unread messages eventually dragging him into a restless sleep.
with effort, and not a little desperation, he opens the office on time. mob’s never been to his apartment--this is their point of commonality, their shared space. if mob’s going to turn up anywhere it’ll be there.
he’s at his desk, having canceled every pre-lunch appointment, clicking agitatedly on a game of solitaire when the door opens. he bolts up immediately. ]
Mob--! Where have you been, I was--
[ worried--but the word dies in his throat at the sight of bruising all along the side of mob’s face. he scrambles around the desk. ]
Jeez, you look terrible! What happened? Did you fall off a cliff!?
[He's a bit surprised that Reigen isn't more mad at him for not answering, or showing up late, or showing up with this bad of an impression for clients. His head hangs low in shame nonetheless.]
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mediummmuhhh) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
millefolium2023-01-19 06:49 pm
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I helped Ritsu carry his furniture up a few flights, so I know I can help carry some desks up. That'll be easy...
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still. who cares about polish? if reigen cared about polish he wouldn’t be hopping from job to job. ]
With psychic powers?
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Oh! Hahaha, of course, of course. Me too. I’m in shape, I mean. So if we have to do any lifting today it’ll be no problem.
[ well. he’s kind of rectangular. that’s a shape. ]
Alright! Finish your drink and let’s get going.
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[Antsy, isn't he... Shigeo just calmly sipped at his tea, staring at Reigen with no particular thought in mind. Just... staring.]
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[ reigen meets mob’s dark even gaze for a few moments, then violently and with all his willpower suppresses a flush and stares down into his own tea. it’s probably cooled down a little. it’s tough to slow down when there’s so much to do. but--right. mob’s carefulness matches his carelessness, at least. he takes a sip, more ginger than the last, and that goes down fine. ]
Ah ... speaking of your brother ... I should meet him soon too, I guess. If we’re really doing this thing. [ engagement, he means. he pulls a face suddenly-- ] And you should probably meet my sister too. Though knowing her she’ll probably tell you to head for the hills.
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[Their arrangement was already a bit strange, after all. Shigeo sipped a bit, finishing off his tea - but he'd gotten it a bit early already, and he didn't have as much trouble with heat as Reigen seemed to.]
Ritsu is really smart and cool, though, once you get to know him... hopefully you eventually get along. I'm very proud of him, he's going to a really prestigious school and he's considering a number of different jobs...
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You guys must be close, for you to talk about him like that.
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[Funny for a guy to be talking up his little brother to his future spouse instead of himself.]
What's your sister like?
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She’s ... a lot like my parents. She’s doing well for herself too. Works at a bank.
[ he rubs a thumb idly against the side of his cup. ]
She’s not really the protective type. [ a beat, and then amending-- ] Or, well. She won’t be about this, anyway.
[ there’s subtext there, layered. a lot like his parents--the very parents that set him up in the first place because they were worried he was loveless and friendless. the parents who wished he had stuck it out at his job selling water coolers. the parents who never understood him, not really. ]
But hey, it doesn’t matter. What matters is whether we like each other.
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...Well, my parents seem to like you. I think it will all be okay.
[Shigeo sets aside his cup and folds his hands neatly on the table, waiting patiently for Reigen.]
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but he isn’t wrong, either. it’s all gonna work out. reigen has a plan; he always has a plan. when this guy realizes he doesn’t want to be married to reigen, the business will already be a smashing success.
he drains his cooled tea and stands up, pulling his jacket from over the back of the seat. ]
Alright! Let’s go, Mob!
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[He'll leave money for their tea and tag along, letting Reigen do the talking and decision making for what the business needs - it was his idea, after all. They can arrange for the furnishing of the office, and Shigeo will roll up his sleeves and carry up each box with relative ease, even the hefty desk box.]
That should be all of it, Reigen-san.
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reigen helped, kind of. he led the way, directed, occasionally held up the other end of a small sofa--but he’s still doubled over, panting lightly, his own sleeves rolled up. he is noticeably more disheveled. ]
Yeah ... yeah, that should do it ...
[ and then, to distract from his tiredness-- ]
Didn’t ... didn’t I say something about my given name earlier ...
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Right, sorry. ...Arataka.
[It felt a little weird to say it for someone he was still getting to know.]
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reigen just--he’s good at people, not with them. he can count on one hand the number of friends he’s managed to keep since high school and college and still have fingers to spare. and even the people he likes, the regulars at his favorite and only bar--no one, he realizes, uses his given name outside of his immediate family. and here he is, just a few days engaged, giving this handsome weirdo carte blanche.
he can’t help the slight new sweat on the back of his neck as he accepts the bottle with a neutral sound of gratitude. shit. he hasn’t even been on a date recently,--that must be why this all feels really, really bizarre. ]
Hah ... there we go. You’ll get used to it.
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[It did seem to make Reigen react... was that a happy reaction? Well, if things were going to turn out well, then he might as well.]
...'Shigeo' is on the table, of course, not just Mob. Whichever you like.
[That seems fair, right?]
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[ as soon as he says the name out loud, he frowns. it’s not a severe reaction, though; he huffs out something like a laugh afterwards before he drains a third of his water bottle. ]
I kind of like the nickname, though. Mob. I bet your friends call you that too sometimes, right?
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[When he had those, that is.]
Both of them are fine by me. I know you mean me.
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[ a nickname feels a little like leapfrogging intimacy--a needle reigen wants to thread carefully, given their unusual situation. he collapses back against one of the office chairs and lets out a gusty sigh. ]
Well. If you aren’t too bored yet, we can start putting some of this stuff together ... and then we can get ramen or something later. How does that sound?
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That sounds good. ...I'll treat you, Arataka.
[That's what a good spouse would do, right? Especially since Reigen paid for all of this stuff?]
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[ he rubs the side of his neck as if that can suppress the persistent flush that rises at the sound of his name. jeez, he should’ve tried to get out more before his parents dropped this engagement on him. at least he would’ve been better prepared.
he clears his throat, then reaches for a box cutter. ]
Alright. Let’s do this thing.
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It's the first time in a long, long time that Shigeo was using his powers more openly. Reigen could be frustrating, especially with his lack of consideration for Shigeo's schedule or pacing... but he didn't ultimately mind. At the end of the day, people were grateful, whether they needed a curse expunged from their homes or a simple massage to lift their spirits.
One day, though, not yet a year into their working together, Shigeo was missing for one of the days of work. He didn't answer his phone - the thing went straight to voicemail, indicating it was off. It wasn't until the next day, about an hour after Spirits & Such opened, that the doorknob turned and Shigeo finally entered.
He was looking quite worse for wear. He had ugly bruises all over his face and hands, and a turtleneck only barely hid ugly purple marks around his throat that were already fading faster than should be humanly possible.]
Arataka...
[The esper's voice is just slightly cracked, but it didn't paint a pretty picture.]
Sorry, if you called, my phone got broken....
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but it’s gotten to the point where it’s unusual when mob doesn’t respond promptly to a text or call, and after only a single night of radio silence reigen finds himself incredibly antsy. no, not just antsy--anxious, genuinely anxious. he stays overlong at the office and curses himself for not getting the kageyamas’ home number, catches with a passing eye and promptly ignores a broadcast about a train station getting ripped to pieces by seemingly supernatural causes--he barely even sleeps that night, tossing and turning in his low single bed. he checks his phone over and over again, the glow from zero unread messages eventually dragging him into a restless sleep.
with effort, and not a little desperation, he opens the office on time. mob’s never been to his apartment--this is their point of commonality, their shared space. if mob’s going to turn up anywhere it’ll be there.
he’s at his desk, having canceled every pre-lunch appointment, clicking agitatedly on a game of solitaire when the door opens. he bolts up immediately. ]
Mob--! Where have you been, I was--
[ worried--but the word dies in his throat at the sight of bruising all along the side of mob’s face. he scrambles around the desk. ]
Jeez, you look terrible! What happened? Did you fall off a cliff!?
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[He's a bit surprised that Reigen isn't more mad at him for not answering, or showing up late, or showing up with this bad of an impression for clients. His head hangs low in shame nonetheless.]
I'm sorry to have scared you.
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