Chapter Text
Something was making noise. A shrill jingle that was entirely unwelcome.
Shigeo huffed and turned away from it, pushing his face into the dark softness he laid on. He scrunched his eyes shut, willing the sound to stop so that he could go back to sleep. His body felt like it was made of lead, sapped of all energy. When was the last time he had been this comfortable? He could never sink into his futon at home like this.
There was a groan that wasn't his. He could feel the noise on his cheek.
What?
His pillow shifted and stretched away from him, paired with the dull pattering of hands on wood. The pillow returned with a sigh.
Then a breathless, "Oh, shit," followed by a "Moshi moshi," that was strained with barely concealed panic.
Teruki extricated himself from his very groggy boyfriend, sitting up quickly. Blinking against the light in confusion, Shigeo rubbed his face. He squinted. Teruki was frantically mouthing something at him, but Shigeo's brain was taking its sweet time in joining him in the waking world.
"Huh?"
"No, no! Everything is fine! We fell asleep, nothing happened." Teruki covered the speaker to the cell phone and hissed at him, face flushed. "It's past eleven! It's Otouto-kun!"
Oh.
Oh dear. Shigeo's curfew was ten.
He heaved himself upright and slumped to his knees, yawning and gesturing for Teruki to give him the phone.
"Uh, hang on a sec. Shigeo's up and he wants to talk to you. Here."
He dropped the phone in Shigeo's hand, leaning away from it like it was liable to explode. Judging from the fact that Shigeo had been able to hear his brother's garbled shouting, Ritsu was less than pleased.
"Ritsu?" he croaked. Oh, his voice was wrecked.
"Nii-san? Are you still at Hanazawa's? He said you fell asleep, but you sound awful. What's going on?" Ritsu's agitation was palpable, though watered down with concern.
Shigeo nodded to himself, looking down at his knees.
"Yes, we fell asleep. Sorry I worried you."
A resigned sigh came over the line.
"It's okay, I'm sure you didn't mean to. Mom and Dad have been calling you, though. You didn't hear your phone?"
"Oh… um, no." His phone had been in the pocket of his uniform. It was probably still in the bathroom.
There was murmuring on the other end.
"Are you going to head home now? Dad said he can meet you at the station here, so you don't have to walk in the dark," his little brother passed along the offer. His voice turned sterner. "Make sure to have Hanazawa take you to the station there, okay?"
That…
Shigeo didn't want that. He didn't want to move at all, let alone go outside in the dark and ride the train by himself. His stomach cramped just thinking about it. Teru's apartment felt separate from the rest of his life. It felt safe here.
The outside world could be scary.
And it was okay to run away sometimes.
He glanced upwards, his eyes meeting Teruki's questioning ones. Shigeo mustered up his courage (and exhaustion) and whispered his request.
Teruki smiled like Shigeo had gifted him the moon. The eager nod was perhaps unnecessary.
"Ritsu, can I talk to Mom?"
Teruki's hand rested on his, stopping him from picking the comforter apart.
"Nii-san are you okay?"
Shigeo bit his lip, moving his hand out from under Teruki's to brush his fingers over the his instead. Teruki used a lot of moisturizer.
"No. I don't think so."
"Nii-san?" Ritsu sounded distressed.
"I had a bad day." That was the most explanation he could muster for the time being. "Can I talk to Mom, please?"
"I- Yeah, of course. I'll get her…" Ritsu trailed off like he wanted to say more.
Shigeo waited patiently.
"I'm glad you're safe, Nii-san."
It was nearly a whisper, but Shigeo heard the message loud and clear. A smile teased at his lips. He threaded his fingers through Teruki's and peeked up at him through his bangs.
He was so, so lucky to have such kind people around him.
"Thank you. I love you, Ritsu. Goodnight."
"I love you too, Nii-san. I'll get Mom."
The line went quiet. Shigeo blew out a long breath. He'd never asked his mother for something like this. He didn't know what he would do if she said no. He curled inwards. Switched to sitting with his legs crossed. His knee bounced as he listened to hushed voices on the other end.
Teruki leaned in and kissed his temple, staying close after and dropping his head on Shigeo's shoulder. The weight was solid. Warm and grounding.
A rustle.
"Shige?" His mother sounded frazzled.
"Hi, Mom."
"Shigeo? Honey, Ritsu said you had a bad day? What's wrong?"
Teruki puttered around the kitchen, talking about everything and nothing. He'd dragged Shigeo out of the bedroom only moments after he'd ended the phone call with his mother, declaring that neither of them had eaten dinner and therefor Shigeo must be starving. He would be a poor host if he let his guest suffer like that, after all. Teruki had draped the throw blanket around Shigeo's shoulders when he shivered, tying the ends in front like a cape "so he could keep his hands free for eating".
The tea was almost ready, Teruki informed him, shooting a carefree grin over his shoulder. The clink of new cups sounded too loud in the quiet of late night.
Shigeo sat at the table, his eyes half-lidded. He stared down at his bowl of instant ramen, watching the steam curl up towards his face. This feeling was new. His old explosions used to leave him feeling like he'd overflowed. Like he'd been emptied, all his emotions poured out. He was used to an excess and then a lack. Of feeling hollow.
This wasn't like that.
This felt more like someone had attempted to scrape his insides out and done a poor job of it. Ragged hunks had been left behind and his insides were irritated and raw. His head hurt. His eyes hurt. He felt fragile. Worst of all there was something lingering about it. This was not something he would be able to shake off overnight.
Was this really better? It certainly didn't feel like it.
Yet he hadn't destroyed anything. He'd broken a few glass items in Teruki's room, yes, but the room was intact once more. The building hadn't crumbled to dust around him. And Teruki… He hadn't hurt Teruki. He hadn't hurt anyone, but most importantly, he hadn't hurt Teruki again.
That was his answer. Yes. This was better.
It still hurt though.
He watched in muted surprise as a tear dripped into his bowl. He hadn't even realized he was crying again.
Shigeo sniffed as quietly as he could, but Teruki spun around, two cups of hot tea hovering beside him. His face crumpled in sympathy.
"Oh, Shigeo…"
Shigeo pushed his bowl away, not wanting to ruin it. His stomach was churning too much for him to have had more than a few mouthfuls. He stared at his hands gripping the edge of the table. Thought of a throat under his fingers. He jerked his arms back to his chest, squeezing his eyes shut against the image. Another tear traced down to his chin.
The chair beside him pulled out slowly, and a hand started running up and down his back.
"I did something bad."
The hand paused, and Shigeo looked over at Teruki. There was something skeptical in the way his brows quirked, but his boyfriend didn't interject. After a moment his face relaxed into something milder. More open. The lack of verbal judgement was encouraging.
"I hurt someone," he whispered. It was strange that it was easier to tell this part of the story. Maybe a cruel part of him thought Teruki might understand what he'd done. "It wasn't… real? But it doesn't matter. I hurt someone."
"Was it in self-defense? Or was it a bad guy?"
Shigeo shook his head, eyebrows crinkling together under his hair.
"I wasn't trying to get away. I was angry. I was hurting them on purpose." His words were coming out as dull and flat as ever.
Teruki frowned, considering.
"Did they hurt you first?" The question was phrased so innocently, but it felt like Shigeo's world had just tilted off its axis.
He bit his lip, watery eyes trailing over the seam on his sweatpants.
"Shigeo. Did they hurt you first?"
A tiny nod. Yes, they had. For a long, long time. So badly.
"And did you ask them or tell them to stop?"
Another nod, just as minute.
The hand on his back resumed its rubbing, staying close to his neck and shoulder blades. Warm circles.
"But they didn't stop," Teruki prompted.
A shake.
"But I-" Shigeo's voice was quivering so much it was a wonder Teruki understood him. "They weren't psychics. They were just regular kids. And I hurt one of them."
There was a heavy sigh, and Teruki's hand slid down his arm to hold his hand instead. Teruki scooted his chair closer, leaning his elbow on the table and his cheek in his hand so he could look Shigeo in the eye.
"I thought you were the one to tell me that psychic powers were just like any other trait? It doesn't matter if you had powers and they didn't. They hurt you. You asked them to stop. They didn't, so you acted to stop them. That's self-defense, Shigeo, powers or no powers."
Oh.
His chin trembled. It had been like some kind of twisted, dirty little secret. The part that he'd been most ashamed of, when he felt like he'd thrown his own moral compass out the window. He'd been pushed, sure. Pushed and pushed and pushed to get to that point, but he ended up there nonetheless. Teruki had pushed him too, way back then, and he had kept himself together all the way until unconsciousness… But then again, Teruki had pushed really hard for five minutes.
Six months was a very long time.
He was nodding. At what exactly, he didn't know, but his head bobbled up and down, hands falling limply into his lap.
"They hurt me a lot." His voice cracked hard. "A lot for a long time. It was actually an hour, but it felt like a really long time for me."
Teruki's hand found his again and held tight. He hummed, mulling something over. He looked a little confused. And a lot like he was trying to not be angry.
After a moment he asked, "It wasn't real?"
Shigeo took a deep breath, wiping his face. He nodded, fixing Teru with a resolute stare. He needed to be firm about this for his own sake.
"It wasn't real. That doesn't matter though. I thought it was real and it was scary and it hurt."
Teruki was close enough now to lean over and press his arm against Shigeo's. Shigeo liked how tactile his boyfriend was. He always had to build himself up to make gestures like that. Teruki made it look effortless, however Shigeo wasn't jealous. He was grateful.
"If you don't mind me asking, was it a hallucination? Like a psychic power to make dreams? I just want to understand what you mean when you say it wasn't real."
Ah. Huh, well it was probably okay to explain that part so long as he didn't get caught up in the details. Shigeo tapped his toes against the floor, chewing the inside of his cheek while he came up with the words.
"It um, I was inside someone's head."
Teruki blinked.
"What?"
Okay, not enough details.
"There was a girl. She was possessed, and nobody could… I couldn't- The spirit was too strong to exorcize. So, I did an out of body experience to get rid of the spirit from the inside. It worked, but it took a long, long time."
Teruki's mouth was hanging open.
"Wait, you what? Like astral projection?"
"I guess."
Teruki couldn't seem to wrap his head around that. He sat up and turned in his chair so he could face Shigeo fully, bewildered.
"Since when have you been able to do that?"
"That was my first time trying, but it wasn't too hard." Shigeo shrugged a little.
He jumped when Teruki burst out laughing, burying his face in his hands. He chuckled breathlessly, leaning back in his chair and letting his head thump against the wood.
"Oh my God. Of course it w-" The rest of Teruki's sentence was lost to another round of snickering.
Shigeo had no idea what was so funny.
"Teruki?"
Teruki let his hands fall away, his face rosy. He was holding in something bright. Something gentle and warm and dear.
"Shigeo," He was smiling so widely his eyes were almost shut. "You never cease to amaze me, and I hope you never stop."
It turned out that waking up and having dinner at eleven thirty made going back to sleep difficult, no matter how exhausted you were.
It also could have a little to do with the fact that falling asleep earlier had been an accident, and that Shigeo was now laying down beside his boyfriend in his twin bed with the lights out.
Shigeo wasn't sure his mother had quite given him permission to do that when she said he could sleep over. But Teruki didn't have a spare futon and there was no way either of them was going to spend the night on the living room couch. Teruki was sick. And Shigeo was feeling… delicate. Being alone was not an option.
"Sorry the bed is so small," Teruki mumbled, barely audible over the distant whirring of the washing machine. "Felt bigger before, right? I dunno why we don't fit anymore…"
An awkward laugh switched into a dry cough.
Shigeo fisted his hands in the blankets, blinking into the dark. He was very self-conscious of the fact that he was getting sweaty again. Partially because he didn't think he could handle having nightmares and potentially another meltdown. The other half of it was definitely due to the fact that Teruki's elbow kept bumping his, and their bare toes kept leaning together and jumping apart again.
Were all sleepovers this stressful? Shigeo had never been to one before, but if they were, he didn't think he was missing out on anything.
Teruki shuffled around, kicking the bottom of the blankets out from where they were tucked too tight.
"Could you…? I mean, um. What if we both laid on our sides?" Teruki sounded uncharacteristically shy.
That made sense.
Shigeo nodded, turning to face the room. Ever so slowly, Teruki rolled over, his knees pressing lightly against the back of Shigeo's. Shigeo's heart jumped. A hand came up to press feather light against his side. Everything was tentative. Cautious. Shigeo felt kind of lightheaded, but in a fuzzy, not so bad kind of way.
Teruki waited, holding himself still until he was sure Shigeo wasn't going to protest the touching. When he didn't say anything, Teruki relaxed, snuggling just a bit closer and releasing his breath in a big huff.
And then suddenly everything was bad.
Shigeo had no idea why the feeling of hot air on the back of his neck made his heartrate rocket past 'mildly alarming' and jump straight to 'imminent danger', but it did. Which didn't make any logical sense. No one had been close enough to him in that six months for him to feel their breath. Their fists? Yes. Their feet? Also yes. But anyone's mouth? No.
Maybe it was just the uncomfortably familiar feeling of something there. Something lurking. Always there. Always watching.
Whatever it was, it sent Shigeo scrambling to sit up, a frightened cry on his lips. A sweaty hand clamped to the back of his neck, eyes wide and searching the corners of the room. Around the lamps. The windows. He was practically wheezing.
"Woah! Shi-Shigeo, hey…" Teruki pulled his legs in, away from Shigeo, sitting himself up against the headboard. His movements were measured. Deliberate. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you… Was that me, or-?"
Shigeo couldn't tear his eyes away from the window. The shades were pulled, but someone could see in the cracks if they tried hard enough. It didn't matter what floor they were on, spirits floated. He wanted to hide, yet he could not move.
"No- not you," he stammered.
His boyfriend slumped, boneless for a beat, and then he crawled over to where Shigeo was stuck. He kept an even few inches between them, joining Shigeo in looking at the window.
The washing machine switched cycles.
"He was watching me," Shigeo whispered. "He was always there. Watching them hurt me. He wanted them to. He made them. He wanted me to do bad things-"
He choked. It was too late to start talking about Mogami. It was too late in general.
"Do you want me to block the window?" Teruki asked, looking up at him.
Shigeo curled in on himself. That was silly. He was safe here. Mogami was gone.
"I can if you want. I don't mind. Sometimes the light comes in really early in the mornings and bothers me anyway."
He nodded.
Teruki smiled at him, visible even in the dim light of the bedroom. He flicked a hand out and his wardrobe shifted a handful of feet to the left. If Shigeo didn't know any better, he never would have known there was a window there at all. A second flicker of yellow-green aura shut the door to the room, the click of a lock sounding as well.
"Nobody here but us," Teruki said confidently.
Shigeo dipped his head, glancing at Teruki's reassuring presence before assessing the window and door. Mogami had been powerful enough to blow up the whole block plus some. A lock was not going to stop him, and yet Shigeo's thundering heartbeat was slowing.
"Thank you, Teruki."
Teruki beamed.
"So long as it makes you feel better," he pulled back the covers and climbed back into bed, gesturing for Shigeo to join him. "I promise I won't do that again."
Shigeo twisted his fingers in the hem of his sweater. It wasn't like Teruki had done anything wrong.
"It wasn't you-" he protested weakly.
Teruki shook his head, adamant.
"I won't do it again."
Shigeo hated that his anxiety lessened at that.
He got back under the blankets, squinting at the bedcovers through the near pitch-black gloom. Teruki had rolled onto his side, away from him, leaving a significant portion of the bed open.
Well. That was generous, but it wasn't quite what Shigeo wanted.
Shigeo curled himself behind Teruki, pressing his hands to his boyfriend's back. Teruki startled, but then hummed happily, so Shigeo didn't move them. He bent in and let his forehead press to Teruki's spine. The fabric of his pajamas tickled his nose.
His heart slowed some more. Better. This was better.
A dog barked somewhere outside and Shigeo flinched.
Better, but not perfect.
In a fit of childishness, Shigeo pulled the blankets up over his head, blocking out the world entirely. It was a little hot, a little stuffy, and a lot better. For the first time since he woke up that morning he didn't feel the oppressive weight of phantom eyes on him.
With Teruki's steady breathing settling him down once more, Shigeo found it really wasn't that hard to fall asleep after all.
"What. The Hell. Happened?" Ritsu growled, keeping his voice low so that Shigeo wouldn't overhear while he changed his clothes upstairs.
Teru couldn't help but grin at Shigeo's little brother. Everything about this situation screamed that something highly traumatic had happened, but the Teru had to appreciate how many people Shigeo had in his life that honest to goodness loved him. It was endearing and Teru was grateful his boyfriend had so much support.
"Hanazawa, seriously." Ritsu's arm was blocking Teru from entering the house any further. He was one step away from spitting mad, a hissy kitten not afraid to sharpen his claws on the object of his displeasure.
Crossing his arms, Teru stared up towards the second floor. His brows furrowed.
"Did something happen back in September?"
That seemed to throw Ritsu for a loop.
"September? Shit, a lot of things happened last fall. What do you mean?"
Teru grunted, frustrated that he had very little to go on.
"I just didn't know if he'd told you anything. Or anyone at all, actually. He hasn't said much, but it sounds like there was an exorcism that went really badly back then. It- I think he's been pretending it didn't happen, but it messed him up. Now that he's being more open with his emotions it may all be hitting him at once."
"Nii-san doesn't tell me a lot…" Ritsu mumbled reluctantly. "We're working on talking more, but back then… Even though that would have been after the Claw base, he wasn't always telling me when he was struggling."
"Hm."
Ritsu lowered his arm, letting Teru step into the hall. They made their way to the kitchen, the younger Kageyama tapping his thumb against the back of one of the chairs.
"Teru-san?"
Teru straightened, looking at Ritsu with his full attention. It was rare for him to call him that.
"I know that Nii-san went to you because he trusts you. And whatever he told you was in confidence. I don't want to force you to betray that, but I need to know some of what's going on. I don't want to accidentally make him feel worse by saying or doing the wrong thing out of ignorance."
Shigeo may be good at getting people to understand him, but it was clear that Ritsu had inherited an emotional eloquence Shigeo may never achieve. Teru did not want to just blurt out all the things that Shigeo had worked so hard to explain to him, but Ritsu had a serious point.
He pursed his lips, not sure how much longer Shigeo was going to be upstairs.
"Did you know your brother can astral project?"
The unblinking confusion on Ritsu's face was enough of an answer.
"It sounds like there was a strong spirit possessing someone and Shigeo used that technique to get rid of the spirit from the inside. A lot happened when he was in there, but not to his physical body. It seems the evil spirit tried to… break… your brother and get him to resort to violence." Teru's hands balled into fists. "Shigeo only told me a couple bits of what was going on. I don't want to push him. But you-"
Teru took a bracing breath, hating the pained look he was putting on Ritsu's face. He continued on even quieter, looking down to the table.
"Don't offer him milk. I don't know why. I asked if he wanted some with breakfast this morning and he froze and wouldn't eat any more. Which is bad, because he didn't really eat anything last night and he mentioned skipping lunch at school too. And then- This I really don't understand, I thought he loved cats. But on the way here I saw a cat and pointed it out to him, I thought- I thought it would cheer him up, right? Don't. Just don't bring up cats."
Teru shook his head harshly, trying to physically banish the memory of Shigeo's terrified face. Of the way he bolted, panicked, to the nearest alley. Of his breathless heaving, not enough food in his stomach to bring anything up. Of Teru's useless words and fluttering hands and broken, racing heart.
Ritsu looked like he was approaching overwhelmed, fingers tapping out random patterns on the chair.
"What- What do we do?" Ritsu swallowed loudly.
Teru scrubbed his hands through his hair. He wasn't a therapist. He was fifteen and could barely take care of his own shit most of the time, let alone someone else's trauma. He was confident in a lot of his abilities, and he needed to be honest with himself, this was not one of them.
He opened his mouth to answer but cut himself short when footsteps started padding down the stairs.
Teru and Ritsu shuffled to the kitchen doorway. Shigeo came around the staircase, eyes wide and uncertain. They landed on the two of them and relief flashed across his face.
"Hi." A tiny smile lit him up then, bright as a lighthouse. Joy and appreciation for their presence.
Teru's heart broke a little bit more.
Shigeo was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. Now that wasn't really a problem, per say, it just was. He was squeezed between Ritsu and Teruki on the couch, curled into Teruki's side with his arm around his shoulders. Ritsu had one of his hands in a vice grip. Two of his fingers had pins and needles after so long, but Shigeo didn't care.
The third movie of the day played on the TV in front of him. He'd lost track of what they were watching some time ago. The images on screen smudged together into blobs of color. Shigeo was tired.
He let his eyes close, his head lolling further off Teru's shoulder and down onto his chest. It made his bangs ride up on his forehead, sticking into the weave of Teruki's sweater. His boyfriend pressed a kiss to the top of his head and told him very quietly that he had cute eyebrows. Shigeo went beet red and Ritsu made fake gagging noises but didn't let go.
Every loving touch and every soft word gave Shigeo the strength to reach down and pick a cracked piece of his ruined dam out of the water. He'd surrounded himself with the crumbled masonry. A tight circle of brittle stone.
Despite everything, the floodwaters were stirring. They inched upwards the longer he was awake. He soaked in love and comfort. He built his wall. The waters climbed.
Sometimes they overwhelmed him, spilling through holes, over the uneven top, splashing his feet. When the water spilled, words spilled from his mouth. Nonsensical. Disjointed. Shigeo was well aware that neither his little brother nor his boyfriend could make a coherent story from what he was revealing. It was causing them stress but he did not control the words anymore.
"They took my shoes."
"The teacher told me to keep standing."
"The Body Improvement Club said no."
"I lost a tooth."
The house was empty.
The house was empty.
"The house was empty."
His mother came in to chide them for forgetting to call when Shigeo had come home.
"You're a responsible boy, Shige. I trust you to make good decisions, and your father and I aren't going to punish you for this. Just don't make it a habit, alright? Let me or your father know if you need anything." Her words were steady, but the tilt to her brow and the way she picked at her nails while she spoke told a different story. She was as worried as the rest of them.
Shigeo hauled up a giant, unblemished section of the wall from that.
Someone on screen chopped up vegetables. Shigeo's half-lidded eyes traced the knife.
It had been a boxcutter.
Water slopped over the top of the rickety wall, pouring in and splattering his knees.
"She stabbed me," he choked suddenly, hot tears dripping off his chin and onto Teruki's leg. His eyes were getting so sore. His stomach cramped.
Their reaction was slow, a dawning horror that had no words.
Teruki moved first, his arms coming around to engulf Shigeo as much as they could, pulling him into his lap. For once Shigeo wasn't the one that was shaking. One of Teruki's hands roved Shigeo's back, searching around as if the wound were still there. The other reverently wiped the tears that fell to his cheeks.
"Shigeo, what…?"
The water rose and spilled over and over.
Ritsu's hand was gone. Shigeo hiccupped.
"Nii-san… who? Who did what? I. Someone- Who?"
"And then he had a brick- And there w-was so much blood," Shigeo stuttered, shifting hurriedly to cling to Teru's neck.
Through bleary, tear filled eyes, Shigeo watched Ritsu grow pale. His little brother was stammering, but nothing was getting out. Ritsu reached out towards his older brother, drawing back before he made contact.
"Teru-san, I don't-"
Shigeo's sob stopped him from hearing the rest of what Ritsu said.
No.
No.
No.
There was a crow on the fence outside.
The water rushed in, filling the space in an instant.
Shigeo gasped, the TV crackling behind him. Something popped. He couldn't do this again. He was too tired. Burnt out. He didn't know people could even have this much emotion come out of them. Did people run out of tears? Was that a thing that could happen?
"Shigeo, hey. Come on, look at me." Teruki pushed him back enough to see his face. "You're here with us. Shit. I, God please don't cry like this- Ritsu?"
Shigeo loosely gripped Teruki's sweater, too exhausted to do anything more. This wasn't the earlier panic. This was despair. Everything hurt. He'd been so lonely and so hurt and so scared all the time. He had felt all of that the first time, why did he have to do it all over again now? That was so unfair.
"Nii-san?" Ritsu sounded so small.
Ritsu shouldn't have to see him like this. He was supposed to be the big brother. He was supposed to be the one helping Ritsu when he was upset.
A picture fell off the wall.
Ritsu fled.
Teruki's hands cupped his face gently. Shigeo squinted at him and was startled to see that Teruki was fighting back tears as well.
"Shigeo, I'm so sorry. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to help you. This is really big…"
Shigeo reached up and held a hand over the one on his cheek. He didn't know what to do either.
Two pairs of hurried footsteps sounded down the hall.
"Oh, Shige…Kiddo…"
Ritsu hovered by the doorway. Shigeo's eyes went wide, turning to see his father getting to his knees beside the couch. Strong arms took him from Teruki, folding him into an all-encompassing embrace. No matter how hard Ritsu held his hand or how tight Teruki hugged him, it could never compare to how this made him feel.
"It's alright, son. Let it out."
Shigeo had a lot of appreciation for his dad. The man took everything he did in stride. Never flinched when he broke things. Laughed when he bent spoon after spoon. Always gave him the benefit of the doubt. Told him he had other talents when he got poor grades in school. He gave the best hugs.
When he was in Mogami's world Shigeo did not remember that he had parents. The loneliness that pervaded the world did not allow for happy memories of the past. They were simply gone. For the first time, Shigeo was glad for that. He didn't know if he could have stood such loneliness if he actually remembered how wonderful his father was.
It had been such a long time since he had been held like this.
So, so long.
Shigeo drifted.
Muffled discussion was what roused him. His head was pillowed on someone's leg, a familiar, smoky smell forever embedded in the fabric.
Dad.
The heavy hand on his brow confirmed it. It sat with a weight that would have been unpleasant if not for the thick waves of nostalgia it brought. Checking for fevers. Wiping away dirt. Holding him in place for haircuts.
Awareness crept over him like molasses. His back pressed against the back of the couch. Someone sat in the space he was curled around, their much smaller hand thumbing circles on his shoulder blade. It caught slightly on his shirt on the way up in a way that could only mean one thing. Sparkly nail polish.
Teruki.
A fluctuating aura was incredibly close by. It coiled and released continuously, never quite lashing out far enough to reach him. Shigeo peeked one eye open just enough to see dark, messy hair in his peripheral vision.
Ritsu must be sitting on the floor. There was something in his hand though, and the curiosity was enough to get Shigeo to blink both eyes open.
Ah.
Like a psychic's stress ball, Ritsu held a spoon in his hand. It twisted and straightened. Warped itself into a pretzel and back.
Shigeo didn't have the energy to smile, but a surge of affection warmed him all the way through.
"-since September? I don't understand-"
That was his mother's voice. It was easy to follow, Shigeo tracing it around the room with her pacing footsteps. He wasn't listening, really. He knew they were talking about him.
Teruki's voice joined the conversation most often, Shigeo once in a while catching his own words repeated. He wasn't upset with Teruki for telling his family. It had been too difficult to do himself, so if this was how they had to find out… It was unfortunate for them, but so be it. Teruki may not have the full story and Shigeo knew that he would have to get it all out eventually, but for now this was enough.
He had so much support in his life. So many people he loved who loved him back.
The house had been empty, but his heart was full.
The waters rose around him, but Shigeo wasn't afraid. He kicked the remnants of the dam away. Shigeo would not drown.
He would learn to swim.