Chapter Text
*
Read panels right to left
*
*
Word on the street is pretty unreliable, but when a whole country has heard of the same rumour, there’s usually some truth to it.
In twenty something years, Reigen’s heard enough stories about ‘Black T Poison’ to fill a lifetime of nightmares. It always involves murder, and some form of ‘telekinesis’ and maybe two or three dead kittens for extra flavour. Doesn’t help that Poison’s story has just the right amount of shōnen-esque tropes to run wild on the internet. An active fourteen year-old serial killer? With psychic powers? Hell, he even has the whole ‘accidently killed his parents’ tragic backstory.
Still, there’s hearing it once and hearing it over a hundred times over. You get a little desensitized after a while. So he really isn’t expecting it when he walks into an abandoned building and sees a figure with a black mask, a hoodie in a beat-up gakuen uniform, and a bowl-cut, of all things.
…Huh, his eyes really do look deader than a fish’s.
"Um, I'll just be going—"
He’s suddenly three steps away from a very powerful psychic— Holy shit, that was real, he just pulled me over, what the hell— who could probably kill him with a single flick of his finger.
“Who are you?”
He’s not sure what he expected, but it’s definitely not ‘soft-spoken’. He literally has to strain his ears to hear him.
The hold on his throat became the slightest bit tighter and Reigen panicked.
“Reigen Arataka!” Shit, why’d he go and tell him his real name? Now he could track him down—scratch that why did he go into this abandoned complex again?
Telepathy club thought they saw some ghost in here. Right.
“Why are you here?”
“Er, well, see,” Look, he might be a conman, but that doesn’t mean he wants a bunch of kids to die in his wake. Damned telepathy enthusiasts. “I was, uh, following a lead on ghosts!”
Smooth, where’d your silver tongue go? His massage skills ain’t getting him out of this one.
Poison continued to stare at him with that disturbingly blank expression. “There aren’t any here.”
“Yeah, I, eh, didn’t know you were here, so if you don’t mind, I’ll just leave…”
Reigen did not like the way Poison twitched.
“Are you part of Claw?”
What? What’s he talking about— oh shit the grip’s tightening, it’s getting harder to breathe—
“Answer me.” His vision starts blacking, stars in his eyes—
“No! I don’t even know what—” He chokes, the grip releases a little. His vision stabilizes enough for him to see the black holes for eyes Poison levels on him. “I don’t know what that is!”
Poison’s still staring at him, his grip doesn’t tighten, but it doesn’t loosen either. Reigen’s suddenly aware that he’s actually floating because if Poison was holding him around his neck he definitely should still be choking right now.
"You'll tell everyone that no one's here?"
"Huh?” He stares, before his tongue catches up with brain. “Y-yeah, sure! I will.”
Poison stares at him. Stares long enough that it gets just to the point of uncomfortable before he sets Reigen on the ground. Gently.
"Go."
Reigen’s so shell-shocked that he just stands there for several seconds. Then his feet caught up with his brain and he bolts.
*
After that enlightening experience, he’d pulled some bullshit story to the Telepathy kids about a really terrible demon in there and they should definitely never do not ever go in there, I’m being serious here. You will die. He’d went home, showered, then decided he needed a very, very strong drink.
Which he’d had. And passed out over.
Now that he’s thinking clearly again, he’s feeling… he’s not sure what to feel really. He’s just survived a meeting with the psychic murderer of Seasoning City.
…That gakuen uniform was beat as all-hell.
He really should put it out of his head. For his own sake. He’s nearly thirty, there’s only so much sanity he has left, and he’s got an office to man. He should get ready.
He showers fast and struggles into his clothes, throws his favourite (only) tie on, and walks into the office. He looks good today, great even. Professional despite the heaps of everything he’d drunk yesterday.
Then he sits down in front of the laptop and starts searching for anything named ‘Claw’.
He gets next to nothing on the net, and for all his professionalism he gets no clients either. It’s around 4 in the afternoon when he finally finds something, past the conspiracy theories and random pictures of sharp and stabby bird parts. A small, obscure blog. With no names and no faces, talking about some psychic organization planning to take over the world. With a number that literally said ‘Call to join us today!’ like a cheap advertising poster.
Right then.
There’s a knock at the door. He gets up automatically, a greeting on his lips. The customer doesn’t open it and he tried not to sigh.
One of those kids playing pranks again?
There’s a second knock. He frowns, readies a scolding or a half-hearted glare and pulls the handle, the words already on his tongue—
…Fuck.
Poison is standing there. With the same hoodie and black mask and beat as all-hell gakuen and Reigen is wondering if this is karma for shoving his cards into everyone’s face at last week’s business party.
“Reigen-san?”
He froze. “Uh, yes?”
Poison looked away, the bowl-cut covering his eyes. Caught from the back by the sunlight, Reigen’s suddenly aware that this murderer was shorter than him, and very thin. Why hadn't he called the police again?
Shōnen villain nigh-invulnerable psychic powers. Of course. Weren’t shōnen anime supposed to be where the good guys win? How much did that help the police?
“You’re in danger.”
He blinks and answers intelligently. “Eh?”
“Sorry, I need you to come with me.”
“Eh?”
Poison grabs him by the arm, and he almost jerks it off before realizing Poison might take offense. “We have five minutes, we need to go.”
“What— wait—”
He flinches hard when what sounds like a meteorite lands outside. When he blinks, Poison’s looking away from him, facing two guys. One of them is carrying a jar for some reason, and the other looks like the kind of man Reigen tries to be, professional slicked-back black hair, dressed in the sharpest black suit you’ll ever see with even sharper black glasses.
And a katana. Shit.
Poison wasn’t kidding?
“So, you’re Black T Poison?” Professional Katana man says. Said murderer lets go of Reigen’s arm. “It’s true then, you two know each other.”
“Uh, no, we don’t.” Reigen cuts in.
“He’s right, we don’t.” Poison agrees.
“And trying to protect him.” Katana man pointed it at them. (Hang on, is that sword plastic?) Ah damn but this is bad, this is really bad, they think he’s friends with Poison? The one with the jar has a downright nasty grin. He has this sudden feeling he really doesn’t want that jar opened.
“Hey wait—"
“Reigen-san.” He snapped his mouth shut. Poison still isn’t looking at him, pacing forward towards their guests. “Stand back please.”
Is he going to fight? Why was he protecting Reigen? No, wait, are they going to kill each other—
He doesn’t get much of a chance to think. In the next second, Jar man’s grin turns into a full-out snarl as he rips the jar open with a “Candy-chan!”
Something rushes out into the air, like a shiver you see above a burning flame. He suddenly feels like he's covered in slick, black oil, and Reigen does not appreciate the gross warmth going down his neck. That something forms in front of them, turns bright garish pink and neon blue. It's eyes grow out like blisters, and he counts four, no, five heads on a single giant one and wow isn’t that the ugliest thing he’s ever seen in decades.
More importantly, the… whatever is bigger than his office and just as hostile as his business ventures. It roars, raising it’s six arms and stumbling forward on stubby feet. Next to it, Katana man has one leg knelt, the other pulled back with his hand holding the sword next to his thigh (It is plastic, what the hell?) He lunges forward, drawing it out like there’s an invisible sheath there, so fast Reigen can barely even see it—
Poison raised a hand.
And everything...stopped.
They’re both clearly struggling, faces twisted into distressed glares. Like angry puppies, he thinks distantly. The giant ghost, spirit, whatever, is hissing, just as frozen before it’s excessive number of faces warp, turn inside-out and inwards into a neat little neon circle that pops right out of existence.
Then the two guys get slammed into the ground, strong enough to leave a crater.
They’re dead. He thinks. They’re dead, he killed them—
No. They’re breathing. Just barely, and the blood running down their faces can’t be good but they’re alive.
“We need to go.”
He nearly jumps out of his skin. Poison’s right beside him again, looking at him with those empty eyes. How does someone that powerful have so little presence?
“Reigen-san.” Poison says a little more insistently. Reigen looked at him, then at the giant crater in the ground. And the two alive guys on top of that.
“…Ah ok.”
*
Poison doesn't explain while they fly through the air. Reigen was too preoccupied with the fact that people looked like ants from this height and the only thing keeping him from falling was a gentle palm on his shoulder.
That, and the fact that Poison had destroyed his office, literally tore it right apart after Reigen grabbed what valuables he had. He did the same to Reigen’s apartment too, after politely asking for directions like he was some middle-schooler asking to use the loo. To keep Claw off any of Reigen’s family members Poison had said.
He would have done something, but well, it’s not like he can actually stop him. Poison said he would rebuild it with his powers anyway, and he’s pretty sure those telepathy kids’ story about the ‘ghost’ tearing apart the abandoned building and then rebuilding it to chase them out is true now.
Little late to start believing actually.
They’re finally, finally set down on the ground and Reigen could have kissed the dirt right then and there if he didn’t feel like he was standing next to a sparking live wire. They were in a different abandoned building, one he’d seen maybe once while walking to a client’s place across the city. It’s barren, so he’s slightly surprised when Poison crushes a wall and there’s a whole stash of supplies hidden inside.
He’s handed a foldable chair and invited to sit. Poison pulls out a dingy looking portable stove, two packets of something and some water that he starts boiling. What comes next is an explanation. A very interesting explanation.
“…So Claw really is a crazy psychic organization. Trying to take over the world.”
“Yes.”
“And they’ve been kidnapping kids with psychic potential to brainwash them into becoming soldiers.”
“Yes.”
“And they’ve got a hundred odd espers or more.”
“Yes.”
He takes a long, enduring breath.
“Okay.” The universe has decided to flip itself on its head and apparently bad guys with world-domination dreams don’t just exist in manga and comics. Okay.
“Chicken or kimchi?”
What.
He looked up in confusion. Poison was staring blandly at him, the two packets in his hands.
“Which do you prefer?”
“Kimchi.” He stammers.
Poison nodded and put one of the packets (Oh it’s instant noodles.) down. He resumed cooking.
When he’d woken up today, he hadn’t figured he’ll end up in an abandoned building with a rumoured serial killer cooking instant noodles for dinner.
He takes another long breath to stave off the screaming.
Okay.
He still has a billion questions, why Claw was after him, how long he had to stay here, could he ever even go back now, what the hell was he supposed to do with his probably obsolete wallet now, why he hasn’t just gone to the police or the army already, did Poison have a phone charger for android phones he could borrow. He’s cursing his own luck and wondering what god of misfortune he pissed off to end up like this.
Reigen tried to decide if he wanted to risk his life by asking Poison. For all that this kid’s technically saved him, he’s still called a psychic murderer.
He spared those guys though. It could be a fluke, maybe a one-time thing. Who knows, Reigen might get stabbed in his sleep tonight.
A bowl is suddenly shoved under his nose and he flinches back to avoid the steam. He accepts it with a confused thanks, and Poison nods politely, walking back to his own folding chair and opening the second packet. It doesn’t take long for the scent of salt and noodles to fill the air again.
…Well, no time like the present.
“Hey uh, do you know why they came after me?” One, two, three, oh good, his head’s still connected to his neck.
“Claw saw you that day.”
“That day?”
“They found out I was hiding at that abandoned building, so they sent someone there to watch me and saw me letting you go. They thought we were allies. My friend told me they were going after you.”
…Huh. They must have caught the tail end of that conversation, after Poison was done holding him by the neck.
“And they didn’t attack you?”
“Whoever they sent wasn’t very strong.” It’s said without inflection, not a trace of arrogance, factual.
So they were posted there to try and find out who’s working with him, without Poison knowing. And I got lucky.
Ice suddenly goes down his spine. If Claw caught me— they’ve got no qualms about killing and kidnapping people, shit, if Poison hadn’t stepped in…
He didn’t have a reason to step in, didn’t he? Poison had no reason to save a random civilian who’d stepped into his ‘house’. So why?
He wondered if asking so many questions would make him fly off the handle. Poison hadn’t seemed annoyed at all, but he’d seen about as many emotions in his eyes as a glass doll’s. Said person was currently facing away from Reigen, with his mask pulled down and eating straight from the pot. It’s so utterly normal he forgets he’s in an abandoned building for a second.
“Why did you save me?” Ah. He said that, didn't he?
Poison didn’t answer, continuing to eat his noodles. He finished the last strand, putting it back down on the stove and pulling the mask back into place.
He turns around. Reigen notices a scar across his left eye before he catches on. Those dead eyes don't look so dead now, no, they look dark, swirling with something. It makes him feel like he’s on the precipice of a cliff, wind and rain lashing his face, lightning on the horizon as he looks down at a storming, raging sea.
And then it’s gone, like it was never there.
“I don’t like Claw.”
Reigen didn’t ask any more questions.