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It feels like the summer heat, he decides. That, and he must be sick or coming down with something. He doesn’t bring it up when it starts. He puts his hand on his stomach when Hanazawa-kun laughs, and stares at the ground with his cheeks tingling. He makes sure there’s a couple inches of distance between them - he doesn’t want his friend to catch whatever he’s got.
He stumbles a little when he reaches his master’s office, and Hanazawa waves goodbye. He almost forgets to say it back. Words falling over themselves in ways that don’t manage to form a coherent sentence. But when Mob tries to apologize, Teru only waves his hand again and says it’s fine.
Mob stares when he leaves, and spaces out. He doesn’t realize he’s been staring for several minutes too long until Reigen comes out and asks him what he’s doing.
He doesn’t have a response to that. He says, “Ah,” and tries not to stutter when he feels his cheeks tingling again.
“Oh, Mob. Are you running a fever?” Riegen asks, and presses his hand against Mob’s forehead, bangs brushing out of the way and over his fingers. Mob feels embarrassed in a way, with no reason for it, but doesn’t move back. “Hm, you’re warm,” his master says, pulling his hand from Mob’s head and back into his pocket. “You feeling okay?”
He doesn’t know how to answer that either. Mob nods, and lets his fingers brush against his stomach, which doesn’t quite hurt. The movement isn’t lost on his shishou, but Reigen doesn’t say anything, only blinks. He holds the door for Mob to enter, still look at him with curiosity that Mob tries to avoid.
Reigen changes gears once the door is closed. They have a client coming in.
Mob only hears half of what he’s saying over the rush of waves in his ears. His mind is fixated on the still picture of Hanazawa-kun’s smile.
The pressure in his stomach comes back, aching like it never left. Shigeo squirms as it summersaults, the image of Teru never quite leaving his head, like the spots that linger in front of his eyes after a camera flashes. It takes a few seconds of blinking to get it to go away, and he rubs his arm, sheepish, overcome with the sensation that he wish he’d stayed with his friend a little longer. His shishou would let him, he knows - he’s fifteen, getting ready for entrance exams for high school, and Reigen-shishou has become more lenient and even encouraging when it comes to his friends.
But Hanazawa-kun must be at home by now, and there’s no good excuse for calling him back out. Mob feels a startling moment of guilt, and embarrassment, although there’s really no reason for him to feel either, and he knows that.
He really must be coming down with something.
He charges and checks out the client Reigen-shishou has given a massage to, only half-there, and stares blankly at the wall in front of him when he’s finished. It occurs to him too late that there’s talk surrounding him, bouncing off the wall he’s staring at. The customer is gone, so it must be that Reigen is talking to him.
And there’s that concerned look again. His shishou stands in front of him, hands in his pocket, head slightly tilted. “What’s going on, Mob?” he asks.
Mob blinks at the surface of his desk, but he’s unable to push Teru’s face from his mind. “I just haven’t been feeling very well recently, shishou,” he explains.
Reigen doesn’t move. “Oh? What kind of ‘not feeling well’?”
Shigeo looks down at his small desk again. He can feel his cheeks flushing as he walks through the symptoms again in his mind. “My stomach started hurting, walking here from school with Hanazawa-kun. And my heartbeat keeps accelerating, too, and I feel I’m overheating even though it’s not that warm outside.”
He thinks he sees something flicker behind his master’s eyes, but he isn’t given time to ask what it is. “And when did all of this start?” he asks.
Mob thinks he hears amusement, but he could be reading the situation wrong, as always. “Well, it’s been happening mostly after school.” He pauses. “But, not every day… and sometimes it happens on the weekends, too.”
“Ah.” Reigen rubs his chin, and Mob knows for certain now that he sees some kind of smile. It’s not altogether unusual - his master enjoys solving peoples’ problems, so perhaps this is fun for him. “Most often you walk home from school with Hanazawa-kun, right? Do you see him on the weekends too?”
Mob isn’t sure what the connection is supposed to be. “Yes.” Oh, wait . “Do you think he’s contagious?”
He swears his shishou almost laughs this time. It’s not meant to be mean, but Mob still knows the reason is that there’s something about the situation he just isn’t getting. Reigen mutters something under his breath, but it I guess you could call it that doesn’t really explain anything to him. So again, he doesn’t ask, waiting for Reigen to turn his attention back to him. “Ah, Mob, let me ask you something.”
Mob nods.
“Do you still have feelings for your old friend, Tsubomi?”
He isn’t sure what that has to do with anything. He hasn’t even thought about it in a long time, about those feelings he has or used to have. He stares at a blank part of the wall for a minute or so, thinking about Tsubomi and her soft voice and pretty hair. But the feelings he used to get - the twirling in his heart, the…
Pressure… in his stomach…
“No,” he says.
Mob feels an urge to start chewing on his nails, something he hasn’t done since he was much younger.
The office is quiet for a moment as Mob puts the pieces together. “Do you want to leave early?” Reigen asks, eventually. Mob looks up at him, not really responding. “To go hang out with your friend, I mean. We don’t have any other appointments today.”
Mob goes back to looking at his desk. “He’ll be at home by now,” he explains.
“So? I’m sure if you ask him, he’ll go out.”
It takes Mob a couple more seconds of staring at his desk before he stands, a little dizzy, and says goodbye, almost tripping as he hurries out the door.
Behind him, he knows his shishou is laughing.
Hanazawa-kun answers his text in about thirty seconds, enthusiastic about doing anything that Mob wants to do. Which for Mob, is something of a problem, as he hasn’t really thought that far ahead.
He walks slowly to their meeting spot, mind racing about what he’s supposed to say or do once he gets there. He hadn’t realized how eager he was to spend more time with his friend, and now he felt stupid for not actually planning something out, anxiety rising in his chest and making his hands grow cold. Maybe he should say he’s changed his mind, come up with some kind of excuse and head back to the office.
Except it’s too late now. Teru is standing on the corner of the street about a block closer than where they were supposed to be meeting, waving him over.
Hanazawa-kun is really very cute .
The shock of his own thoughts makes him trip over his own shoes, almost landing on his face. His cheeks are burning again, this time with embarrassment and frustration. This thought couldn’t possibly be new to him, but he doesn’t remember having it echo so loudly in his head before.
And for a split second, he’s worried he’s said it out loud. Hanazawa-kun is staring at him. “Kageyama-kun, do you need help standing up?”
Oh. He’s still on his hands and knees, from where he tripped. Mob shakes his head and pushes himself up. Hanazawa-kun is smiling at him softly, hands in his pockets. Mob knows he should say some kind of greeting, but his mind is completely blank.
Hanazawa-kun does it for him. “Does Reigen-san not have many clients today?” he asks.
“Oh,” Mob says. “No.”
Teru nods, leaning back until he and Mob are standing in the same concrete square. “So, what would you like to do?” he asks.
Mob tries not to stare at his friend’s face while he’s thinking. “U-uhm,” he stutters, trying to pull his eyes away. “We can - can we, walk?”
Teru shrugs, and says, “Sure.” And even though he’s smiling, Mob still feels a little lame. Teru turns halfway. Like he wants to walk in unison.
Mob feels his face go bright red, and stares at his feet as he moves closer to his friend. He can feel Hanazawa-kun looking at him, and the resulting blush makes his cheeks hurt. He can feel the heat from his friend’s body, and must unintentionally move closer; their arms brush together, and it feels electric. Mob jumps slightly, startled, and Teru tilts his head questioningly. “You okay?” he asks.
Mob nods, but looks away. “I have just been feeling jumpy lately,” he says. And before he can stop himself, he adds, “Especially around you.”
He doesn’t know how he doesn’t stop in his tracks, or how Hanazawa-kun doesn’t stop. He does seem a little removed, more reserved, as he says, “Oh?” There’s a minute or so long pause, in which Mob doesn’t say anything in answer. Then he starts up, “Kageyama-kun, I realize I have never apologized for - that time, when we first met -”
“Oh, no, it isn’t like that at all!” Mob blurts. “It’s just that I -”
Hanazawa-kun does stop this time, and Mob feels his stomach disappear entirely. He guesses he should stop now, too, still a couple of steps ahead of his friend. “Oh?” he asks again.
His eyes are so bright, and so blue . And they’re holding Mob in place, making it hard for him to look away. It’s a repeat, the same feeling from earlier, when he couldn’t get Teru’s face to leave his mind, and felt his limbs and fingers tingling. “I’ve - just been feeling, my uh...my heart, uhm.”
Why does he look so amused?
He knows he’s trapped now. Shigeo isn’t very good at lying, and he would feel terrible doing it anyway to his friend. He can feel the sweat breaking out on the back of his neck again, cold, and he can hear himself stuttering -
But then Hanazawa-kun is standing right in front of him, head a little tilted and smile soft. “Kageyama-kun,” he asks. “Would you like to hold hands?”
Mob almost jumps. His face is absolutely burning now, but he still manages to nod.
Hanazawa-kun’s hands are warm, and soft, and Mob’s face is still on fire and his heart is still beating way too fast. But instead of heavy now, he feels light. And this close to Hanazawa-kun, he can feel how hard his friend’s heart is beating, like they’re perfectly in synch.
“You can call me Teru-chan too, if you want,” Hanazawa suggests.
Mob’s heart rate spikes again.