Archive of Our Own ^beta

1

The bell above the door jingles as Etho holds it open, awkwardly extending his arm to let his companions in beside him. Mob walks in with a reserved smile, his neatly trimmed bowl cut blown back by the air conditioning of the restaurant. Right after him, Reigen struts in, his own golden hair ruffled and mussed in the way that implies wanted to look like he just got out of bed looking like that when really he spent twenty minutes in front of a mirror with hair gel.

Etho follows behind them both, letting the door shut slowly behind and the hot air from the quiet street behind them dissipate into the pleasant chill of the ramen shop. Little curtains hang in front of the counter, and Mob carefully orders his food while Reigen waits with a credit card in his hand.

Etho hadn’t so much as found the odd pair as they had found him… passed out in the middle of the street after getting hit so hard during Ravager Rush maintenance that he crossed a dimension. The third dimension, specifically, because he’s still not used to the feeling of being 2D animated. (Pivoting is weird, not to mention talking. (He can’t even feel his mask!))

As much as he’s figured, he’s somewhere in Japan, if Japan had psychics and a surprising amount of ghosts. In another life, he would’ve made a great animated Japanese ninja, but not this one. In this one, he’s… psychic. Maybe.

“So, Etho,” Reigen asks conversationally as he leads their entourage to a small table in the corner of the shop, “how did you meet Mob?”

“Er,” Etho starts, glancing sideways at Mob. “You both found me in the street?”

Reigen laughs. “Of course! I remember that. My question would be how you got there in the first place.”

Well, that’s awkward. “A ravager ran into me,” Etho explains plainly. Over his bowl of ramen, Mob nods solemnly in agreement. “It’s a sort of… big bull?”

“I know!” Reigen cuts in with annoyance. “I know what a ravager is,” he repeats quickly, hands waving as he speaks, food abandoned, “and I’ve probably exorcised more than you have.”

Exorcised?

Maybe ravagers are like… ghosts in this world?

Mob sets his chopsticks down carefully. “I thought he might have important information about the case,” he says to Reigen. Etho doesn’t really know what to thin about the kid. He’s definitely a weird one, but most kids are in his opinion. “Dimple thinks he’s important.”

At that comment, Etho risks another glance at the floating green spirit above them, rosy red cheeks turning up in a devilish grin as the tiny ghost drifts closer to look Etho in the eyes. Dimple’s said about three words to Etho so far, but they’ve all been vague and somewhat horrifying, so he’s tried not to think about him at all.

Reigen waves a hand flippantly. “Is he even a real psychic?” he scoffs, flapping his other hand in Etho’s direction. Technically, no, but Etho’s not really sure what qualifies a psychic in this world. He hasn’t ever exorcised a ghost, nor read anyone’s minds, but he can see ghosts. So maybe?

Mob swirls his soup around with his spoon. “I can feel his aura,” he says simply, then takes a long sip. Etho frowns. He has an aura?

“So, not as powerful as me, obviously,” Reigen comments. Reigen, Etho has gathered, is an extremely insecure psychic. That, or he’s not really a psychic at all and is trying to cover up that fact.

Mob picks up a napkin and wipes his face, then excuses himself to the bathroom. Dimple floats nearby, drifting into Mob’s vacated spot and fixing his unnerving smile on Etho.

“Don’t think that you can trick me!” Reigen says lowly as soon as Mob disappears around the corner, pushing a single finger into Etho’s chest and narrowing his eyes. “I know what you are.”

“Psychic?” Etho tries.

“A fake!”

2

One thing that this world also has, other than ghosts, is Ravager Rush. Or, not really Ravager Rush, because there’s no ravagers or mortal peril, but there is a video game version of it. It’s called Frogger, and Etho might be a little bit obsessed with it.

He restarts the game again, navigating his little frog across the road and avoiding the cars. Cars instead of ravagers makes sense, but it’s missing the certain charm of a creature several times the size of you barreling towards you at railway speed.

The arcade that Mob brought them to has nothing to do with the supposed case he’s supposed to be helping with, but Etho didn’t have much else to do, considering he was just thrown across dimensions into this world. Across the aisle, Reigen sits cross-legged on a folding chair with a notepad, surreptitiously stealing glances at Etho and scribbling with a pen.

“Niisan!” calls a voice, gesturing for Mob. Behind him, Mob’s younger brother sits and watches one of their friends from school demolish another kid at Street Fighter. Ritsu is only a year younger than Mob, but taller then him by several centimeters.

After Etho’s frog gets crushed by a car for the nth time, he decides to abandon his Frogger mission and explore the rest of the arcade. He walks by the kids to see what they’re watching, appreciatively congratulating them on their wins, and meanders through the aisles of flashing lights. He’s not really the biggest fans of arcades, with the strobe lights and distracting noises from every direction, but it’s nice to play some games every once in a while.

“Going somewhere?” says a voice from behind him. Reigen, of course. He’s a little bit shorter than Etho, but not by much. Somehow, the three centimeter difference seems to bother Reigen, if his new shoes with lifts are anything to go by. Reigen wasn’t this tall the last time they met.

Etho shrugs. “Just exploring,” he tells him. “You want to come with?”

“I was already heading this direction,” Reigen tells him, flipping his notepad closed and tucking the pen behind his ear. “But sure.”

“So…” Etho begins, trailing off. It’s kind of hard to make conversation with this guy without feeling like he’s either going to get personally attacked or scammed out of several diamonds. A little bit like Scar, then. “You’re a psychic, too?”

“Obviously.” Reigen tucks a business card into one of Etho’s vest pockets before he can object, procuring another one out of thin air like a magic card trick to display. “Spirits and Such Consulting,” he says, “the premiere consulting service for all thing paranormal.” He pauses. “We’re not hiring.”

Etho frowns. “Doesn’t Mob work there?”

“He’s interning.” Reigen turns around, walking backwards alongside Etho, flipping the business card between his fingers. Every time he speaks to Reigen, Etho feels a little bit of his sanity slip away, like he’s talking to someone who lives in an entirely different dimension as him. Which is… true, admittedly. “He wants to learn from me, Reigen Arataka, the best psychic of this generation!”

“What do psychics do?” Etho asks curiously. “Other than exorcise spirits.”

Reigen lifts up several fingers. He hesitates. “You’re trying to do corporate espionage!” he accuses, dropping all fingers but one and leveling it at Etho. “Spirits and Such will keep our trade secrets, thank you very much.”

He pauses. Etho tries to look suitably cowed.

“But, if you wanted a private psychic lesson,” Reigen starts again, slowly, “I’m sure I could work it into my very busy schedule… not that you’re a real psychic, anyway.”

Dimple laughs loudly, right next to Etho’s ear. Startling, he jumps backwards and into a pinball machine, coins jingling as he collides with it. Reigen looks at him oddly, not sparing a glance at the neon green spirit cackling beside Etho.

“Dimple!” Etho despairs. He tries not to engage with the ghost, but that just made it worse.

“Oh, that,” Reigen says offhandedly, “the tiny little spirit that follows Mob around. It’s too weak for me to see it.”

Because he’s so powerful, Etho assumes. Or because he’s faking. Well, that’s none of Etho’s business!

3

Drops of water splashing down from the cracked concrete above them echo loudly within the cavern. This abandoned water reservoir has sat untouched beneath Seasoning City for… probably a while, if Etho had to guess. It’s dark down here, lit only by the faint glow that emanates from Mob, and the flickering flashlight in Reigen’s hand. And Dimple, of course, casting a sickly green light as he floats around exploring.

Up ahead, Reigen kicks a pebble, splashing the shallow puddles as he meanders along in that specific swaggering walk that he tends to like. Mob walks slowly and carefully, scanning up and down for evil spirits and the like.

This is the case that Etho is supposedly supposed to help with. There’s little to no details on it, but mostly it’s just been Mob doing work while Reigen kicks rocks and shoots glances at Etho.

“Ravagers, huh?” Reigen drawls, loping back over to Etho. Another drop of water splashes down, right between them. “I’m an expert in them. I have a special move devised specifically for ravagers!”

“A move?”

Reigen tuts. “No corporate espionage, please.” He waves a finger in Etho’s face. “So! What’s the scam? What’s the job? Why do you need to fake being a psychic?”

Etho steps back, trying to make more space. “Uh, no job, really. Just trying to get home. I figured if I get hit by another ravager, I’ll pop back to my dimension.”

“Hm.” Reigen shrugs. “Okay!” What?

“…Yeah,” Etho finishes. “So. Ravagers.”

Echoing in the abandoned reservoir, Mob’s voice bounces back towards them, calling them over. Reigen saunters over, hands in his pockets as always, Etho following behind.

“There’s something down here,” Mob says passively, pointing down a darkened tunnel. Reigen shines his flashlight, but it flickers one more time before giving up the (metaphorical) ghost. He hits it once, twice, thrice, but it still refuses to work.

Reigen looks sideways at Etho. “Why don’t we let Etho take this?” he says, stepping aside. “I’d love to see his psychic skills in action!”

“Okay.” Mob shrugs, then nods in agreement.

Etho awkwardly steps into the tunnel. A strange sort of sweet smell emerges from the unknown depths, like honey mixed with something Wrong. He tries to picture what a ravager would look like in this world.

“What am I looking for, exactly?” he asks, inching further into the darkness.

“A ravager,” Reigen says helpfully.

“An evil aura,” Mob chimes in, “it feels like a hot day in the swamp.”

Humid, then. A gust of warm air blows gently down, ruffling his hair and reminding him that it’s actually still summer here, and summers are hot in Japan. Including this weird, alternate, paranormal Japan.

Reigen’s voice sing-songs down the tunnel, echoing slightly. “Let me know if you need some help from the 21st century’s greatest psychic!”

…He might want to call in some help.

From the darkness, a pulsating verdant glow begins to build, crawling towards the light like racing vines. As they grow closer, Etho starts to back away, the heat suddenly becoming overwhelming and sticky, a sweet nectar smell filling the air as the spirit claws its way nearer.

Like mangrove roots, the spirit erupts from the concrete, pushing Etho backwards and out of the tunnel, towering in a mass of vines and glowing eyes, emanating heat and rotten honey.

Reigen’s eyes widen. Mob passively raises his hand, his hair growing staticky and lifting with a blue glow. Wind starts to pick up around him, and Etho backs away from Mob, too, just for good measure.

The spirit stares at Mob as he waves his hand and evaporates it without so much as flinching. It vanishes into a tiny little wink of light, then drops a single withered leaf in the place that it once was.

Reigen clears his throat awkwardly.

“Obviously",” he says, “I let Mob take care of ravagers. They’re too easy for me to deal with, so I let him get some practice in with them.”

“Thank you,” Mob says politely. “There will be more. Ravagers don’t stay alone, they infest whole areas.”

There’s his ticket home! Etho turns to look at Mob.

“Do you think I could take the next one?” he asks, shooting a glance down the crumbling tunnel where the first ravager had crawled out from. “Since I’m… also psychic.”

Mob shrugs. “Okay.”

This time, now that Etho knows what he’s looking for, he walks a little bit faster down the hall, careful to watch his step. He’s not really sure how to do this, but he figures that getting tossed around by a ghostly ravager is kind of the same as getting run over by a speeding “car”.

It doesn’t take long for the next one to come slinking out towards the light, a little bit too eager considering what happened to the last one. For one, deeply embarrassing moment, Etho pauses and raises a hand, just like Mob did two minutes ago, trying to… summon psychic powers? Something like that. He figured if he could see ghosts, he might have flashy powers like that.

“I knew he wasn’t a real psychic!” Reigen bursts out from behind, echoey in the distance.

When nothing happens, and the ravager extends its viney appendages nearer unimpeded, bringing the scent of rotting flowers closer, Etho decides that maybe this was a bad idea. (And, again, he’s had a lot of those in the past.) He drops his hand.

Despite his flourishing reputation as a coward, he stands his ground and looks up into the unblinking golden eyes of the creature above him, the humid heat making him want to shed his vest.

“So,” Etho says conversationally to it, “nice day out, huh?”

In response, it wraps its vines around him and slams him into the concrete.

+1

Etho wakes up sprawled in the center of Ravager Rush, rails ground to a halt around him. His head is pounding, almost like he got hit by several ravagers.

“Oh snappers,” he murmurs, climbing to his feet. The world spins for a moment, but he steadies himself on an obstacle and glances around. Everything looks normal here…

He holds out an arm and examines it closely. Definitely not two-dimensional anymore, and Etho’s never been so happy to feel cubic and squared. Was it all a dream?

Carefully, Etho reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tiny rectangle of paper.

Spirits and Such Consulting, the business card reads. Maybe not a dream after all.