Chapter Text
The city was suffocating. Saiki breathed in, but the air didn’t fill his lungs; it felt like he was breathing in shards of glass, each inhale sharper than the last. He clutched onto his hands, his grip tightening in his pockets. His body stiffened, uncomfortable by the lack of personal space available to him. Train rides to Tokyo were always packed, loud, and uncomfortable. But his friends wanted to celebrate a city-wide Graduation-themed Festival and he couldn’t just say no; it was never that simple.
Saiki hadn’t wanted to attend in the first place. But here he was, standing at the edge of the bustling crowd, his senses already fraying under the weight of too many thoughts, too many voices. He could hear them all. Every stray thought from every person within range crashed into his mind like tidal waves—disjointed, frantic, excited. Saiki gritted his teeth. He hated crowds. It was all too much; he couldn’t even hear his own thoughts.
When the train doors slid open, the wave of people poured out. He followed Nendo’s head which peered over the crowd. Despite his near delirium, he continued walking, one step at a time.
Eventually, they made it out of the station. He winced as the city centre came into view. Every light from the tall skyscrapers, LED screen billboards, to bustling stalls stabbed into Saiki's vision, the colours bleeding together into a cacophony of neon. He closed his eyes tightly, hoping for a momentary reprieve.
Instead, the noise intensified. A loud cheer erupted from a nearby stall as a group of students won a prize, followed by a burst of laughter that pierced through Saiki’s focus. The noise pressed against his skull, a relentless hum that drowned out everything else. He could hear the beating of his own heart, buried beneath thoughts that weren’t his own. Everyone was loud—every thought was overlapped, demanding his attention, clawing at the edges of his mind.
Saiki opened his eyes, immediately wincing at the lights. Thankfully, Nendo was still in front of him. He couldn’t hear them anymore; everything was unintelligible. His heart pounded against his ribs and his eyes darted around, trying to find a way to escape, to slip away from the chaos. The crowd moved around him in waves, faceless shapes with voices too loud, too clear. They kept him stationery, unable to manoeuvre like a cage.
"Kusuo!"
That voice—it cut through everything, slicing through the fog in his brain like a beam of light through storm clouds. Saiki blinked, his gaze snapping toward the source. Teruhashi. He turned just in time to see her waving from across the street, separated from the group by a surge of pedestrians.
She smiled brightly—completely unaware of the overwhelming pressure Saiki was trying to keep at bay. But beneath her smile was a hint of fear. Her voice called to him again, but this time it sounded distant, as if filtered through a thick veil of water. He tried to focus, to ground himself in the physical world, but it was like trying to hold onto sand slipping through his fingers. The crowd surged, a river of bodies crashing into one another, and in the chaos, Teruhashi stumbled. Her figure was lost in the stampede.
Instinctively, Saiki reached for her. His focus wavered for a split second, his concentration breaking at the worst possible moment. All he could think about was keeping Teruhashi safe.
Like a violent ocean, the crowd bumped into him. He staggered backward to the ground.
And then— crack .
The limiter on his head fell.
The dam broke. The torrent inside him burst free, spilling out in all directions, manifesting itself into energy—a psychic shockwave.
The impact hit with such violence that the concrete beneath him splintered and cracked, webbing out like fractured glass. Saiki laid at the epicentre, the eye of a storm that rippled outward with unchecked force. His surroundings warped under the immense psionic energy—twisting and distorting the world into something unrecognisable.
It was like the very air had splintered, shattering outward in an invisible blast. It tore through the street in an instant, bending light and sound around it. A deafening, otherworldly howl erupted, as if the atmosphere was pierced by a blade. The crowd that had once been a sea of bustling bodies was swept away like leaves in a hurricane. People were lifted off their feet, hurled back in all directions as the shockwave distorted the space around them, like the surface of water after a stone is thrown.
And then came the silence.
Saiki blinked, disoriented. The world around him was dark. The vibrant lights that had once glared into his eyes were snuffed out, leaving only faint glimmers from distant parts of the city. Everything else—the signs, the buildings, the streets—was bathed in shadow, dust swirling in thick clouds that threatened to hide the stars.
He sat up slowly as his eyes focused on the scene before him. Bodies lay scattered, strewn about like broken dolls, limbs bent at unnatural angles. Blood splattered the pavement in violent arcs, mixing with the debris of shattered storefronts and crumbling stone. Some groaned in pain, others lay still, their breathing shallow and ragged.
A low hum of electricity buzzed somewhere in the distance, the only sound that dared to break the oppressive quiet. He could only hear a few people’s thoughts; they were disjointed—confused, terrified, muffled under layers of shock.
Saiki suddenly feared the quiet.
Saiki’s breath came in short, shaky bursts, chest rising and falling too fast, too erratically. His body trembling as he stared at the destruction his power had wrought. The scene before him slowly sank in; his heart pounded against his ribs as he stared wide-eyed at the devastation, unable to move. He felt like a child again, lost in the chaos of powers he couldn’t control.
What have I done?
He tried to stand, tried to make sense of the destruction surrounding him but his legs failed him. Desperation in his eyes, he looked everywhere, looking for familiar faces. He had to find them. He had to heal them. Please be okay. He repeated the thought like a mantra, like a prayer to anyone who would listen.
Finally, he spotted them—his friends, scattered across the wreckage. Nendo’s hulking frame was crumpled in an unnatural position. Teruhashi’s delicate features were marred with scrapes and blood. Kaido…
Kaido was moving. His eyelids fluttered, struggling to stay open as he lay half-buried in the rubble.
Saiki’s heart skipped a beat, a jolt of relief laced with terror shooting through him. I can fix this. I can fix this. I can fix this. He repeated the words that kept him sane and focused.
With a wave of his hand, he lifted himself off the ground with telekinesis, hovering over the destruction as his breath hitched in his throat. All he could think about was reaching them; he could fix them. All of them. Especially without his limiters. He hovered toward Kaido, his hand outstretched, trembling.
But before he could reach him, Kaido’s eyes flew open, wide and frantic. He lurched back, his body jerking violently away from Saiki’s outstretched hand.
“D-Don’t touch me!” Kaido’s voice was hoarse, trembling with fear, his pupils dilated in pure terror. “Stay away!”
Saiki froze. The words cut through him like a blade.
Kaido’s eyes darted around, barely able to comprehend the scene before him. “What—what are you?” His voice lowered to a shaky whisper, spoken with primal fear. “You… You’re a monster… or… or a god…”
The words hung heavy in the air. Kaido looked up at Saiki with wide, terrified eyes, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. His chest heaved with the effort to speak, but his thoughts were louder than his words. Saiki could hear it all—the flood of terror in Kaido’s mind, the disbelief.
I’m going to die… I’m being dragged away by Death itself. This is the end.
A wave of nausea washed over Saiki. He wanted to speak, to explain, to reassure Kaido, but his throat tightened, and no words came. Instead, all he could feel was the overwhelming guilt—guilt that suffocated him, crushing him beneath the weight of his own power.
He hovered there, unable to move, unable to speak, his hand still outstretched, trembling in the silence. Kaido flinched again, shrinking away from him like Saiki was some kind of nightmare made flesh. And for the first time in a long time, Saiki couldn’t convince himself that he wasn’t.
I can fix this. I can fix this. I can fix this.
The mantra clawed its way into his mind, desperately pulling him back from the edge of insanity. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat, his lip trembling as he muttered the words aloud, “I can fix this… I can fix this... I can fix this...”
With a shaky breath, Saiki turned his gaze back to the crater. His eyes darted across the wreckage, scanning the debris until they landed on the pink antenna, broken and scattered. He drifted toward it, hands trembling violently as he reached down to gather the pieces.
Saiki’s voice registered to Kaido who spoke softly, “Kusuo…? Is that you…?” His voice was soft, uncertain—but there was something in it, something small but unmistakable. The fear disappeared, instead, there was hope.
But Saiki remained focused on his device. His hands shook violently as he pieced the limiter back together, piece by piece, ignoring the way his breath hitched in his throat, ignoring the pounding in his head.
Denial swept over him like a tidal wave, drowning him in the need to undo everything. He couldn’t face the reality of what had happened—what he had caused. No, not yet. Not while he could still change it. “I can fix this... I can fix this... I can fix this...”
Once the limiter was whole again, he gripped it tightly in his hand. He was able to reverse time before. He could do it again. None of this has to happen. He closed his eyes, his mind racing, searching for the path, the way back.
He focused on a specific sensation—the pull, the stretch of time warping under his control. His breath quickened as he latched onto that thread of power, tugging it with all his strength.
Everything shifted.
The air around him seemed to distort, as though the world itself was being rewound. The rubble lifted, broken glass hanging suspended in the air for a heartbeat before flying back to its source. Blood soaked into wounds, sealing flesh back together, while the crater in the ground smoothed over, disappearing as if it had never existed. The sky darkened, only to reignite with the flicker of city lights being restored.
Time peeled itself backward, slowly at first, like the winding of an old, rusted clock. But with each passing second, the scene before him snapped into reverse, a wave of motion and energy sweeping over the destruction, pulling everything back to its original state.
Once he was done, he placed his inhibitor back on.
“Kusuo! Kusuo!” Kurumi Saiki’s voice echoed through the empty hallways of their home. She knocked gently on his bedroom door before cracking it open, only to find the room deserted, his bed neatly made.
A pout formed on her lips as she descended the stairs. Outside, his friends gathered awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot as if waiting for him to appear. Kurumi offered them a soft smile, masking her own disappointment, “I think he’s still out, probably at the store, buying something,” She bowed to them. “Sorry, everyone.”
Saiki watched from afar, using his clairvoyance to keep tabs on his friends. He observed the way their faces fell in quiet defeat before they turned and made their way toward the Graduation Festival without him. As they left, Saiki returned to his own body with a heavy sigh.
His body was hidden deep in a wooded area, far from any large crowds and secluded enough that anyone like Nendo couldn't show up out of nowhere. He laid down on the forest floor, the cool earth beneath him grounding him in the present, even as his mind kept spinning, replaying the events of hours before. The grass tickled the nape of his neck, and the gentle rustle of leaves sang a quiet lullaby.
Sunlight danced above him, peering over the canopies of the forest. It was peaceful, like the events that transpired hours before never happened, like time hadn’t shattered and bent beneath his power. It almost made him forget what had happened. Almost.
He knew better. There had to be side effects–it was never that simple. He couldn’t have rewound time exactly 12 hours ago. His powers had never granted him that kind of precision; it was too specific, too perfect. There had to be consequences, ripples he hadn’t yet seen.
Saiki closed his eyes and breathed in. His hands still trembled, a manifestation of the residual tremors of stress and fear. He caressed his own hand, trying to keep it still. He exhaled shakily.
Whatever went wrong, he can deal with it later. He just wanted peace, if only for a moment. Was that too much to ask?
Saiki inhaled deeply, willing himself to calm down, but as the breath left his lips, a sob crawled up from his throat, threatening to escape. He bit it back, hard. Saiki was never the type to cry; he never cried. He couldn’t allow himself to. But the image of the destruction—his friends hurt, Kaido looking at him like a monster—played in a loop in his mind, repeatedly ripping through his chest, piercing his soul. The weight of it crashed down on him, a tidal wave of guilt that he couldn’t escape. The reality of what he had done, what he had almost done, was suffocating him, squeezing every bit of air from his lungs.
He couldn’t allow that to happen again. He wouldn’t.
With a shallow breath, he exhaled. He fumbled his pockets, grabbing his phone. The screen was cracked, jagged lines cutting across it; a physical reminder of the chaos in Tokyo, the destruction he’d caused. His fingers hovered over the screen, trembling as he scrolled through his contacts. He wasn’t sure who he was even looking for—someone to talk to. Someone who could help. His thumb paused on each name, lingering but never selecting.
He couldn’t talk to any of his friends. Not now. Not ever about it.
He couldn’t talk to any of the PK Psychics. They wouldn’t understand.
He couldn’t talk to his parents. He couldn’t burden them. His mother would panic, his father wouldn’t understand.
His finger hovered around Kuusuke’s name. His older brother. But Kusuo’s chest tightened. What could he even say? What could Kuusuke even do? He already fixed everything, didn’t he? Then why did it still feel like everything was broken?
His lips pressed into a thin line as he powered off the phone.
No. He was alone.
The realisation hit him harder than he expected. In this moment, after everything, there was no one he could turn to. Not really. He felt the tightness in his chest grow stronger, his breath coming in uneven, shallow bursts. He needed someone. For the first time in his life, he wanted— needed —someone. Someone to talk to, open up to; someone who would understand and listen.
But no one was there. No one ever would be.
Saiki pressed his palms into his eyes, trying to block out the world. His heart was racing, panic surging through him again. He wished— wished —that someone, anyone, could be there for him. Someone who could just… understand.
The night passed by slowly. Saiki waited, watching as the sky slowly bled into hues of pink and orange, the dawn breaking over the horizon. Only then did he allow himself to relax, just enough to confirm it. The night was over. His friends were safe. They were alive.
He stood up slowly, his legs shaky, though he forced them steady beneath him. He couldn’t think about it. He couldn’t let his mind wander back to those moments. The chaos, the destruction, the helplessness. He fixed it. It’s over , he told himself. It’s over. I fixed it.
But if he let himself think about it for even a second longer, his heart would start racing again, his hands would start shaking, and he would lose the control he had fought so hard to regain.
It didn’t happen. He forced the thought to the forefront of his mind. It didn’t happen. None of it happened.
He inhaled deeply, then exhaled, his body rigid with the effort it took to suppress the flood of emotion threatening to break through. He wouldn’t let it. Not now. Not ever.
And so, he steeled himself, locking away the fear, the guilt, the panic, and with one final breath, he shut it all away. He was Kusuo Saiki again. Calm. Collected. Unshakable.
It didn’t happen. It didn’t happen. It didn’t happen.
— [ PSYCHIC SURGE ] —
Something in his world had shifted.
Shigeo Kageyama stared out the car window, his tired eyes half-lidded from lack of sleep, taking in the soft hues of the pink morning sky. Something caught his attention outside. A faint yet distinct echo trailed through the breeze. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, like the gentle ripple of wind through the trees, or the faintest of whispers brushing past his ear.
He blinked, focusing on the sensation. It wasn’t a sound exactly, more of a pulse, like something or someone was reaching out in silence. But he couldn’t quite grasp what it meant. He furrowed his brow, trying to follow that trail of feeling. It wasn’t painful or alarming, but it unsettled him all the same, like the sudden realisation that something important had changed, though the world looked the same.
His thoughts were interrupted by a loud thunk sound of the opposite car door opening. Ritsu, his younger brother, loaded another stack of boxes into the back seat. They were loaded with small things, pieces of Shigeo’s old life: toys, photos, things he didn’t want to forget. As Ritsu left to grab more boxes, his eyes wandered toward the house— their house—his old home. It felt strange, knowing that this was the last time he would see it, at least like this. He had taken it for granted, every inch of it. The creaky floorboards, his old room, the small living room. He never thought it could slip away so easily.
The thought hit him like a gust of cold air, and his hands, already cold, seemed to freeze. His chest tightened, breathing growing shallow as his vision blurred with unshed tears. He blinked furiously, trying to keep them at bay. He wiped his eyes quickly with his pyjama sleeve before Ritsu could notice.
Ritsu returned, placing another stack on the space next to his brother. His tired expression morphed into concern when he saw Shigeo crying, “Hey, big brother. Are you alright?”
“Y-Yeah…” He sniffled, rubbing his eyes again, “I just didn’t sleep well last night.”
Ritsu gave him a reassuring look as he sat down and buckled his seatbelt. "I guess that makes sense. Moving is stressful," he said, his voice gentle but direct. "It’s probably just the nerves, right? A lot to take in.”
Shigeo nodded, but the feeling from before hadn’t gone away. He glanced out the window again, sensing the subtle shift in the air, like the world was holding its breath. “Maybe,” he muttered, “but last night felt different. The air was too warm… the wind was too loud.” His voice faltered, unsure if his brother would understand. He felt silly even voicing his concerns.
Ritsu looked at him thoughtfully. "That sounds like stress, big brother. It can mess with your head, especially at night. Don’t worry, though–you’ll probably sleep the whole way there considering how tired you are.”
Shigeo nodded, though he wasn’t entirely convinced. He leaned back against his seat as the car shook, his parents having sat on the front seats. He placed a hand on his cheek as he stared back out the window.
As the car’s engine roared to life, his father turned to his sons and gave a smile, “Well, Shigeo? Are you excited for your new High School? New home, new school. How exciting!”
Shigeo kept his eyes glued to the window. He stared at the moisture which accumulated on the glass, “I don’t want to think about it.”
His mother’s voice came from the front, soft and reassuring. “That’s alright, Shigeo. It’s normal to be anxious.”
The car began to move. A slow rumble filled the gaps of quiet as his parents continued to talk to them. His mother addressed Ritsu, “Are you sure you’re going to stay in Salt Middle School for a while?”
“I’m part of the student council, mum,” Ritsu said. “I might as well finish my elementary life there.”
“You’re alright with taking the train back and forth every day?”
“As long as I have pocket money,” Ritsu said with a chuckle.
Their conversation drowned out into the background when Shigeo put his earphones on. He played some soft, relaxing tunes on his phone, bobbing his head along to the beat quietly.
Their childhood home faded from view. The road ahead seemed to stretch endlessly, unfamiliar, daunting. The various familiar locations passed by him in a blur. Shigeo found himself replaying memories in his mind: walks to school with Ritsu, doing memorable exorcism jobs with Reigen, hanging out with Dimple, and having fun with his friends. The memories appeared and faded as quickly as the car passed them.
He knew he’d visit often, but it wouldn’t be the same. Something about starting over in Wakibara felt… daunting. It wasn’t fear, not exactly. Shigeo was confident enough that he would be fine on his own. But what then? What would he do after high school? Despite actively improving parts of himself, he never really knew what he wanted, and for the first time, he felt the weight of uncertainty.
As the car sped on, the familiar gave way to the unknown—new streets, new buildings, all unfamiliar, all waiting. The question gnawed at him most; where do I fit?
He knew himself well enough. He had friends, a great master, people who cared about him. They taught him a lot of things, gave him confidence in his own skills and capabilities. But now, with the move, he was farther from all of that, physically distanced from the people and places that had shaped him. He wasn’t afraid of losing them, but a part of him couldn’t help but wonder if he’d find the same sense of belonging in this new place.
The landscape outside was now alien to him. Gone were the familiar faces of his past, replaced with buildings and streets he didn’t recognize. It felt like a blank slate—a new chapter waiting to be written, but one where the lines weren’t yet clear.
Soft music hummed through his headphones as he gazed out of the window, watching the world rush by. He let himself sit with the uncertainty, breathing through it, trying to find some small comfort in the unknown. To sit with the uncertainty. He wasn’t lost, but he wasn’t sure where he was headed either. And maybe, that was okay. Yeah, this was normal. Moving, growing, changing, it happened all the time, like in movies or shows. People left behind places and faces. He wasn’t any different, right?
His phone buzzed in his lap, and Shigeo blinked, glancing down at the screen. Notifications popped up one by one—farewell messages from Tome, Teruki, his classmates, each wishing him luck or saying their goodbyes. They were simple, but there was something heartwarming about them, enough to make him smile softly.
"Take care, Mob! Make sure you visit!"
"Don’t forget about us!"
"Good luck with your new school!"
The morning would just be starting back in Seasoning City. Shigeo imagined his friends heading into their classrooms, walking through the same halls he wouldn’t be walking through again. The thought made his chest tighten for a moment. He shifted in his seat, resting his head back and closing his eyes, letting the rhythm of the car and the blur of the road lull him into a light daze.
He wasn’t asleep for long. Ritsu shook him awake as the car left the highway, the scent of fast food wafting through the air. The sun was now high, its light glaring through the windows as they blinked into the brightness. Shigeo squinted, still half-dazed, adjusting to the midday heat as they ate their lunch on the go.
The Kageyama family ate the food with his father driving with one hand on the wheel. His gaze darted from sign to sign, following the instructions of their phone’s GPS.
His mother gleefully piped up, “Oh! We should pass by Shigeo’s new school, hun!”
With a mouthful of food, his father replied, “Mm! Mhmmhmm.” With a turn of the wheel, the car swerved toward a specific road, far from the suburbs.
Wakibara felt smaller than Seasoning City. The air here was lighter, the ocean not far off, and the city centre lacked the oppressive density of his previous home. There was a sense of space—a kind of quiet Shigeo hadn’t expected, despite the urban setting. Commercial buildings rose between residential lots, yet it all felt more open, as if the city itself were giving him room to breathe.
The car took another turn and the roofs of PK Academy came into view.
Then it hit him.
Shigeo froze, a sharp jolt running down his spine. They had passed something invisible—there was a presence in the air, subtle but unmistakable. His powers stirred inside him, reacting instinctively. It was like a sudden pressure in the air, like a dense fog wrapping around his mind, thick and suffocating. Shigeo’s breath caught in his throat, his senses electrified. The presence of something… omnipotent.
A psionic barrier of sorts. They had just passed through it.
Ritsu shifted in his seat, his gaze snapping to the window. “Big brother... did you feel that?” His voice was quiet, but the tension in it was unmistakable.
Shigeo nodded, sitting up a little straighter, his mouth still mid-chew. “Yeah. It… came from a person.” The sensation still lingered, clinging to his senses like a static charge. Whoever had set up this barrier was overwhelmingly strong—far beyond anything Shigeo had felt in a long time. Yet, there was no malice in it, no intent to harm, just raw, overwhelming power.
Ritsu’s brows furrowed, “Do you think it’s dangerous?”
Shigeo shook his head, his gaze fixed on the looming walls of PK Academy as they passed by. “No… it’s someone’s aura.” He wasn’t sure what, but he could feel it pressing against the edges of his awareness, faint and distant, yet undeniably there. Could it be a person? Another esper? Did it come from the school?
As the car slowed down to pass by the school gates, Shigeo’s parents were oblivious to the unease hanging between him and Ritsu. “Shigeo! Look at their uniform!” his mother chirped, leaning over with a bright smile. “You’d look so cute in that!”
Ritsu’s whisper pulled him back into focus. “Big brother… be careful there, alright? I won’t be around to help if… something happens.”
Shigeo’s lips tightened, but he nodded. “I know.”
Their new house was small but spacious compared to their old home, with just enough room for the essentials. The Kageyamas worked quickly, unpacking boxes and settling in, barely noticing the time slipping away. By the time they finished, the sun had begun to set, painting the sky a deep auburn.
“Going sight-seeing, big brother?” Ritsu called out from the window as Shigeo stepped outside. His voice had a tone of concern.
Shigeo nodded, offering a small wave before walking off.
Strolling through the city streets, Shigeo’s anxiety for his new school was fleeting. The city was noticeably bright and vibrant. Unfamiliar faces crowded the walkways but they all seemed friendly enough. Convenience stores and arcade games were scattered around with signages in front of them advertising discounts. People have begun lining up for street vendors.
He noticed something peculiar: no evil spirits or malevolent ghosts in sight. The city seemed clean, almost too clean. Guardian spirits lingered nearby. They hovered around certain people, watching over them. It was strange. Normally, they didn’t bother with him, but now they seemed curious, staring at him as if they were keeping tabs on him.
Shigeo shrugged it off, but a stronger, unfamiliar presence made him pause. There was someone—or something—watching him from the rooftops. He could feel it, but he couldn’t see them. Figuring it was the same person as before, he ignored it, hoping to avoid any confrontation. Despite the tension rising in his chest, Shigeo kept his face calm and he moved along.
He continued walking along when a flash of blue caught his eye. A girl stepped out of a nearby store, her straight blue hair shining in the evening light. She was stunning, with a sweet smile that seemed to radiate warmth. Shigeo’s heart skipped a beat, his cheeks turning red as he was suddenly reminded of Tsubomi Takane, his childhood crush. His eyes quickly dropped to the pavement, shaking the thought away.
But before he could slip past, the girl approached him.
“Hello, dear,” The blue-haired girl greeted cheerfully, “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. My name’s Kokomi Teruhashi. What’s your name?”
Shigeo stammered, the red in his cheeks deepening, “Uh– Ah! H-Hello, um, I’m Sh-Shigeo Kagey-yama.” He bowed quickly, trying to hide his nerves.
Teruhashi giggled with a satisfied smile, “Ah, Shigeo, what a lovely name. Say, what school are you from?”
“Ah! Well, I’m a transfer student to PK Academy.”
Teruhashi smiled, clapping her hands together in delight. “That makes me so happy! That means you’ll be my junior then.”
“Oh! Y-You’re my senpai. It’s very nice to meet you!” Shigeo bowed again.
Teruhashi laughed, “You’re so polite, Kageyama-kun! Since you’re new here, would you like me to show you around the school? It must be daunting not knowing anyone. But since we’ve introduced ourselves to each other, we’re practically friends already, right?”
Shigeo’s anxiety melted away in an instant, replaced by gratitude. “Yes! Thank you!”
Teruhashi clasped her hands together. “Perfect! Look, I’ll have to go now unfortunately but it was lovely meeting you!” She turned and waved back. “See you on Monday, Kageyama!”
Mob waved back, speechless. “Th-Thank you…” He mumbled under his breath.
He was so caught up in the encounter that he nearly forgot about the mysterious presence watching him from the rooftops.