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#penultimate chapter lets GOOOOOOOOO
thefandomcassandra · 11 months
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Champion (18/19): Deliver Me and Carry Me Away
cham·pi·on — /ˈCHampēən/
(n) - a person who fights or argues for a cause or on behalf of someone else
(v) - support the cause of; defend — "I don't want these powers. They're too much."
Reigen said he would bear any burden too big for Mob.
Beneath the deep aching pain and stress of this horrible day, Reigen could feel multiple reservoirs of shame. Like pockets of oil or natural gas beneath the crust of the earth, beneath the crust of his physical body slowly collapsing to dust from the amount of pressure he put on himself were pockets of liquid shame. Thankfully, as he wasn't an introspective man, he wasn't going to go digging about beneath the surface. That was for later, at home, when he could sob in his shower instead of in front of three kids and Dimple.
Speaking of, as if he was summoned by the combat fully ending, Dimple reappeared as the lot of them walked back to meet up with the ex-Scars of the Seventh division.
"Well look what the cat dragged in," Reigen sniped.
Dimple didn't seem too bothered by his jab, however, as he only replied with a droll, "Glad to see everything's back to normal."
"Where were you?" That got Dimple's attention.
"Matsuo needed some help and he asked so nicely so I went to go assist, why? Did you need me?"
Reigen didn't answer him. It felt like the smarter option and besides, he was running out of brain cells that weren't dedicated to keeping him upright. He needed to fous on not passing out instead of trading quips with Dimple, as much as that might be some kind of relief from the day's activities.
Seiteki and Zenkishi were unconscious on the ground, piled on top of each other. Zenkishi was unmasked, revealing a plain looking young man with a hilariously forgettable face. Seiteki was bruised beyond recognition.
"We took care of them for you, O Great Reigen." Sakurai pushed up his glasses, gesturing at the two unconscious Scars with his sword.
"Th-thanks." Reigen could barely find the energy to deal with whatever hero-worship nonsense Sakurai and some of the other ex-Scars had for him. He just needed to get into a taxi then go home. It shouldn't be that hard.
"Yes, O Great Reigen, we have dispatched them. Also," Muraki leaned close to Reigen, lowering his voice conspiratorially, "Do you think you can find time in your schedule to teach us how to better ourselves? After all, you are so powerful and—"
"No, okay, no. That's enough." Reigen interrupted him. Muraki jolted slightly, surprised at how firm he was being. "Listen, I'm not some great and powerful psychic or anything. I'm just some guy. All that—" he waved at the room they just left "—was because I had essentially stolen Mob's power. I'm at best a halfway-decent masseuse. At worst I'm a big old nobody. So stop calling me that and just...figure your own shit out? I'd like to keep Mob and his brother and Teruki there out of trouble—especially the Claw kind."
Muraki and Sakurai both exchanged a loaded look. Even as un-psychic as Reigen was now, he could feel their unspoken concersation. Confusion, concern, understanding, acceptance.
"Of course...Reigen." The way that Muraki bit down on his name made Reigen flinch, but he would take what he could get. "But still, we would like for you to train us. We are lacking in a lot of fields, not just power, and it would be useful for us to expand our repertoire."
Reigen counted his breaths for a moment before answering, focusing all his energy on staying upright and being kind to these misguided espers. "Can we schedule an appointment? I run a consultation service, after all. You can phone in and we will find a time that works for both of us, hm? Now isn't a good time to try and negotiate things like this."
If they were disappointed, they didn't show it on their faces. They simply wandered off into a corner and began talking to each other in hushed tones.
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