Archive of Our Own ^beta

Mob holds onto Shishou’s cold hand tighter as they approach the checkpoint entrance. What used to be a hotel is now a safe haven for survivors, a place to stay and get their bearings together. The line spans an entire block and Mob would have probably had to wait quite a while longer if he hadn't been able to convince that nice older lady to give up her spot to him. It wasn’t hard to bring out the waterworks, given he’s been close to crying for a long time now.

Mob is relieved to finally be inside the building. It’s shockingly normal, given the state of most of the outside world. The electricity is still on, giving the air a crisp, cool feeling and a warm atmosphere. If it weren’t for the guy with a pistol sitting in the corner, he’d feel very at home. Mob swallows, pulls Shishou along a little faster. His heart is in his throat by the time he reaches the counter. The woman behind it smiles, but her eyes wander to examine Shishou a little too intently.

“My dad is sick,” Mob says quickly, “and he’s very self-conscious about how he looks right now.”

Her eyes linger for another moment, but then her smile brightens and she reaches for a room key. Mob tenses up as she goes to hand it to Shishou, only to relax as soon as he holds out his hand to take it. It stays curled tightly in Shishou’s fist while they are both guided through the hotel to a two bed room. After being told where they can get food, clothes and supplies and when they’ll need to leave, the two of them are fortuitously left alone.

Mob makes triple sure the door is locked, then drags Shishou to the bathroom and locks that door too before he finally goes to remove the helmet from Shishou’s head. Though he tries to be as careful as possible, the straps snag on a piece of dangling flesh and tears his cheek further open. Mob winces. He tries his best to put it back, only to leave it dangling as he realizes it’s a futile cause. Shishou blinks his one functioning eye, the only sign he’s even conscious. Mob gingerly sets the biker’s helmet down on the sink before continuing. First to go is the shawl wrapped around Shihou’s shoulders, hiding the ugly brown stains all over the collar of his suit. Mob loathes to have to get rid of Shishou’s favorite suit, but it’s practically unwearable at this point. The reason they’re even here is so that they can stay clean and healthy, so the suit will have to go.

With a little hope and determination, Mob pockets the tie. With the internet, he might be able to look something up to get the bloodstains out. Then the disrobing process gets complicated. Shishou won’t seem to cooperate with him. It’s like he’s a limp ragdoll that Mob has to maneuver around to get his clothes off. He barely manages to catch Shishou with his powers when he topples after having one leg lifted out of his pants. Mob huffs. Instead of setting Shishou upright again, he sits him on the floor under the showerhead. “You have to take a shower, Reigen-Shishou. I’m sorry, but someone has to tell you that you smell really bad. How are you going to go back to work like this?”

Shishou blinks slowly. His eyes are following Mob’s movements, but he’s otherwise unresponsive. Mob looks down at his feet and zips his hoodie up. He’s sure he doesn’t smell much better, not that he can tell after going nose-blind to the scent of rotting flesh. The zipper comes back down so he can shrug it off. It’s probably salvegable, so he folds it neatly and sets it apart from Shishou’s suit.

“I don’t like my body that much either, but I’m taking one too, okay? Good hygiene is important. You told me that.” Without looking, his powers work to undress Shishou the rest of the way while he peels his own dirt covered clothes away from his body. The shower is turned on, cold because he’s not sure if the heat would hurt Shishou’s state right now. It’s unpleasant but bearable, he just has to be fast. Shishou sits still while he scrubs away all the nastiness they’ve gathered from wandering aimlessly through abandoned buildings. Mob pauses once Shishou’s back becomes clear enough to reveal the tapestry of bruises along it. He runs a hand down Shishou’s spine, wincing at how he can feel the bumps of each spinal column through his skin. “We’ll get you something to eat,” he mutters, “We’ll find a way.”

Once the dirt and grime has all gone down the drain and Mob is relatively satisfied with the smell of soap’s strength, the water comes off and Mob pulls two towels out of the cabinet. One he uses to gingerly dry off Shishou with his powers, and the other is for himself with his hands. Once done, he wraps the towel around himself and goes to the door. Shishou’s feet pat along the floor behind him, so he turns around.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” He keeps an eye on Shishou, who stands still as a statue, until he’s out and the bathroom door is closed behind him. He first checks the closet, only to find nothing, which he should have expected. They said the clothes would be in the laundry rooms. He doubts any clothes set out beforehand would fit him anyway. Instead, he pulls on a robe, ties the sash tightly as he can, and leaves the room with the room key in hand.

With his eyes glued to the floor and no sense of direction, Mob wanders until he runs into someone who looks like they know what they’re doing. “Uhm, excuse me,” Mob raises his hand, only to pull it back to his chest when they look at him. “Do you know which direction the laundry room is?”

After getting some more solid instructions, Mob eventually finds his way there. Everyone is so much more friendly than they are in apocalypse movies. It makes sense, he supposes. When he gets there, there are a few people chatting with each other while folding clothes. He looks around a bit, only to give up and approach them. He doesn’t want to interrupt the conversation, so he stands off to the side and waits. Eventually, one of the women turns to look at him.

“Oh, I didn’t see you there!” The conversation stops and now everyone is looking at him. “Can we help you?”

“Uh, y-yes, I just… needed some clothes to change into and… do you think there are any that would fit…?” He pulls the robe ever tighter against himself, face red. Maybe if he shrinks into himself enough he’ll sink into the earth. Finding clothes has always been rough on him and his parents, and that was before the dead started coming back to life and the world devolved into chaos. He wishes he could just get Shishou to talk to them.

“I think we do, actually.” One of the girls turns and pulls some things out of the way to retrieve a box from somewhere in the back. She sets it on a table, opens it up and begins pulling out clothes. “A lot of stores are going out of business, so we’ve been getting donations left and right. I think the fat clothes shops were some of the first to fail. I mean, those people are already rare, and now with so many people dying and starving and…” She trails off before handing him some clothes with a breathless laugh. “Well, here you are. Try those on, see if they’ll work.”

Mob nods and swiftly exits the scene with his loot pressed tight against his chest. His face feels hot with embarrassment, eyes blurry with tears. He’s not sure why it’s upsetting. She was being nice. She was being nice.

He’s in the room and halfway dressed when he realizes he didn’t get any clothes for Shishou. He peers in the bathroom to find Shishou squatting on the floor, back to him. Mob will have to take his own clothes back down to the laundry room to be washed anyway, but maybe it can wait…? Shishou’s head moves, and for a second Mob thinks he’s been caught, but Shishou is turning the wrong way. Mob can see his empty eye socket now, as he stares at something unseen.

Slowly, Mob steps into the bathroom. “Shishou?” Shishou doesn't move. Mob steps further in, only to freeze when he sees what's there. There's a cockroach on the wall. Somehow, there is a cockroach on the wall, and Shishou is staring right at it.

Mob rushes over and grabs the thing off the wall, cupping it in his hands. He holds it away from Shishou, who is now staring very intently at him.

“Sh-shishou! It's a roach!” Mob holds the tiny creature close to his chest, careful not to crush it. “I'll take care of it, don't worry.”

Shishou continues to stare blankly at him. Mob shuffles his feet awkwardly.

“I know you're scared of them… remember, Shishou? Cockroaches give you the creeps, you always freak out when one gets in the office.” Mob uncups his hands, letting Shishou see the cockroach again. He's not sure what he expects to happen, he just needs some sort of reaction. Shishou's eye lands on the roach. He takes a good look at it before he moves. Faster than Mob has seen him move in a while, Shishou grabs the roach and attempts to stuff it down his open throat hole.

Mob cries out, grabbing for Shishou's hands to stop him from accidentally killing the poor thing. He manages to get Shishou to release it, but before he can do anything else the roach scuttles somewhere he can't reach, disappearing between the exposed muscles in Shishou's neck.

Silently, Mob grabs his dirty clothes and leaves the room once more. He doesn't think about whether Shishou could have brought the roach in with them. That would be ridiculous. The outside is filthy and no matter how careful you are, bugs are always getting into places they don't belong. The image of it crawling into Shishou plays on loop in the back of his mind.

Thankfully, by the time Mob gets back to all the washers and dryers, those women seem to have left. He might have some trouble finding clothes for Shishou on his own but it's better than having to deal with that again. He throws the tie in with his clothes, hoping against everything that that's all it takes. While the washer runs, he moves over to where the donated clothes are all stored. It takes him a while to realize what he's looking for, but he knows, suddenly, when he finds it. Among the many racks full of practical and plain-looking clothes, there hangs a somewhat worn but still acceptable grey suit. Mob gingerly turns it to look at the back, and finds that there's a just barely there seam running diagonally across the jacket. He would not have seen it if he hadn't already known it was there. Something occurs to him, then. All of Shishou's clothes were donated a while ago. Now the spare suit that he kept even after it kept getting ruined has found its way back to him. With a new sense of determination, Mob takes it off the rack and guards it like someone might steal it away from him if he lets go. When he finally gets the rest of the clothes from the dryer, all he can think about is how excited he is to show Shishou.

He finds the man laying on his back in one of the beds. His good eye is closed, the other as close as it can get. He almost looks peaceful, if not for missing his lower jaw and a good chunk of his throat. Mob shakes his shoulder, practically vibrating with anticipation. “Shishou, shishou look! Look what I found!” Shishou's eyes flicker open, and Mob holds up the suit. Shishou stares at it for a minute, then his gaze drifts back to Mob. Mob holds his hand and pulls him upright so that he can begin dressing. It's not much easier than undressing him, but Mob's too excited to care. Finally, he buttons the suit jacket closed, just the way Shishou likes it. All that's left is the tie. He takes it from the pile his clothes are in. It's still dark with brown stains that may never come out but that's unimportant. Mob wraps it around Shishou's neck and folds his collar down around it. Then, he begins to tie it.

Tying a tie is harder than Mob thought. Shishou makes it look easy, with his deft hands and slender fingers. He tries to remember how to do it, but only comes up blank as he tries again and again to get it to set right. The knot seems to come out messy no matter what he tries. Mob bites his lip and undoes his work again. His vision is going blurry but he's determined to get this right.

That's when he hears a scream. With a start, Mob turns toward the door that he forgot to close. Everything that had been floating around the room without his knowing crashes to the ground. There's a woman in the hallway, staring wide eyed with terror at Shishou's mangled face. Mob wants to say a million things to make this better, to convince her that Shishou isn't dangerous, but he can't. He can't use his words like a weapon like Shishou can- could, before he… before.

So, Mob takes Shishou's hand and makes a break for the window. He pries it open, then pushes Shishou through, making sure to lower him with his powers. He follows shortly after, as someone rushes into the room behind him. As soon as their feet are on the ground, Mob starts running. He can't be worried about if he's pulling Shishou's arm too hard, they have to get as far away as fast as possible. The sound of a gunshot echoes through his mind.

When Mob is sure they're far from danger, in the middle of the woods where nobody ever goes anymore, Mob finally stops running. Shishou has been just behind him the entire time and as Mob lets go and falls to his knees, Shishou keeps moving forward. Mob tries to call out for him, but he's panting so hard he can't find the strength to. He falls forward again, planting his forehead on his arms crossed on the ground. Salty droplets fall down onto the sleeves of the brand new shirt, and on the ground where they leave dark wet spots. He feels like sobbing, but all that comes out are wheezing desperate gasps.

A pair of slick dress shoes moves in front of him. He buries his head further into his arms. Everything he wants to say to Shishou- I'm sorry, This is my fault, Things weren't supposed to turn out like this, You should still be alive- is trapped behind his burning lungs. He doesn't have to say anything, though, before Shishou takes his head in his hands and tilts his face up. Mob sniffles. A blotchy, once pink tie is draped around his neck and a pair of hands move quickly to tie it. The knot sits perfectly and the tie is just the right length. Then Shishou hooks his finger into the knot and pulls it undone. For a minute, they both sit there in the dirt, staring at each other. Shishou starts to tie it again, slower this time, looking up at Mob every now and then. He pulls his work undone again and gestures toward the dangling tie. Mob looks down. With shaking hands he grasps both ends of the tie and begins to tie it. It turns out crooked, so Shishou pulls it undone again. This time, he takes Mob's hands in his and guides him to tie the tie himself. After a few tries, Mob finally manages to get it right. He looks up at Shishou, whose one eye seems to smile brightly at him.

Mob tackles Shishou into a hug that ends with both of them on the ground. He buries his face into Reigen's chest, more tears threatening to spill. “Thank you,” he whispers, and he feels a hand ruffle his hair.