Chapter Text
Reigen Arataka.
That’s the name of the man you’ve been joking about with your friends online for the past few weeks. You saw him make a total fool of himself on live TV and added him on Friendbook as a joke—something funny you could laugh about with your buddies.
To your surprise, he actually accepts the request.
This can’t be real, right? Maybe it’s an accident, and he meant to hit decline. You pick up your laptop in disbelief and lift the screen to get a better look. Your eyes aren’t deceiving you; he definitely added you back.
You click on his profile and scroll through endless advertisements for his shady business. Promotions, coupon codes, photos with him and his customers. You click on some to read the comments, snickering at a few trolls before resuming your snoop session. After perusing through seemingly hundreds of public posts, you reach his life before Spirits and Such.
Photos with his loved ones, silly selfies he’s taken. Old images with an iconic yellow timestamp in the bottom right. These are only available to those he’s added as a friend, and since that happens to be you, you have full access to all of it. Did he just add back anyone who requested him? Why would he let a stranger look at all of these?
The more you scroll, the more you find yourself smiling. You notice little things about him in his pictures. He tilts his head down and looks up at the camera, unable to refrain from putting his hand on his hips or making some sort of pose. Wait, why are you smiling? You wipe your grin off your face and exhale. It’s just photos of some guy you and your friends laugh about. A foolish guy at that.
Your laptop pings, and your eyes immediately shoot to your Friendbook inbox. A red circle with a white number one hovers over the envelope icon. Your finger drags across the computer's trackpad and taps the notification. It’s a message request.
From Reigen Arataka.
You shriek, immediately shutting the screen of your laptop. Did you accidentally like any of his posts? Could he see profile visits? Post views? You breathe heavily, fidgeting with the sheets on your bed, trying to catch your breath. Social anxiety has always been something you dealt with, but it’s never an issue online.
To be honest, you’re kind of a shut-in. A loser would be an apt description. You don’t have a job, sit in bed all day scrolling social media or watching anime, and rely entirely on your parents... despite being an adult. It’s something you’re keenly aware of and insecure about, but not enough to make any changes.
You’ve never really dated anyone. Only a few crushes here and there, maybe a single instance of infatuation. You have zero self-confidence, so it’s not like a relationship would work out anyway. Other people may have complimented you in the past, but in your eyes, you’re ugly. No dancing around that. You promised yourself you would never have another crush again after high school, and you’ve held true to it since.
Speaking of school, god, what a hellscape. You weren’t popular in school—quite the opposite, actually. Lack of social skills and severe anxiety didn’t help your case. The internet has been your safe haven for as long as you can remember, a way for you to connect with like-minded people and get away from all the bullying you endured at school. Unfortunately, though, it’s jaded you.
The internet is home to a lot of things, and most of it isn’t sunshine and rainbows. You have a group of friends you’d call and chat with over Psycord, but as soon as you step outside of that space, it feels like a digital warzone. You try to stick to Friendbook and occasionally lurk on forums. You never would have guessed that watching that stupid psychic broadcast Reigen was on with some friends online would lead to this.
You look down at the laptop, still shut on your bed, and exhale. Gathering your senses, you lift the screen, waking it from its slumber. Entering your computer password again, you look at the notification glaring at you and click it.
“Hey! Thank you for adding me. If you’re interested in setting up a Spirits and Such consultation, call this number!
666-666-SUCH
Reigen Arataka”
You scoff. Did he just advertise to you in DMs? That’s pathetic, point blank. Is he stupid or something? Is business really that slow?
You take a screenshot to send to your friends, already laughing, picturing their reactions. They’re going to get a kick out of this for sure.
You giggle, imagining him being added by his mother and sending her the same desperate message. How embarrassing for him. It’s not like you’re actually going to call him.
Right?
The thought lingers.
What if you did call him? You could tell your friends, and they’d get a kick out of it. The idea becomes more and more tempting. If you can bite back your anxiety, it might just be worth the trouble to have more material to laugh at with your buddies.
Internally, something flickers. Is it guilt? The guy is a widespread meme, a laughing stock, and for seemingly good reason. He allegedly scams people! You’re not a bad person for partaking in this, right? After all, it’s all in good fun. You’re definitely not compensating for your own failures by kicking someone while they’re down. At least, that’s what you tell yourself to justify whatever nonsense you’re about to do.
You stare at your phone, your finger hovering over the numbers to dial him. It quivers. You haven’t phoned anybody outside of your online friends in years. You haven’t engaged in your community in quite a long time either. You click your phone to sleep and put it face down on the sheets.
“This is insane,” you whisper to yourself. “Why would I call him? I can’t be this bored..."
But the curiosity gnaws at you. What if he says something ridiculous? Or tries to scam YOU? Then you could finally have something interesting happen. Something to make your otherwise monotonous days more exciting.
You glance around your room, the same four walls that have been your world for too long. Posters of anime characters, shelves filled with manga, and the soft hum of your computer. This is your sanctuary, but it also feels like a prison at times. Maybe this call could be a break from the routine. You bite your lip, contemplating.
Finally, with a deep breath, you pick up your phone and dial the number. Each beep seems to echo in the room, amplifying your heartbeat.
“This is stupid,” you mutter, your thumb hovering over the call button.
But before you can change your mind, you press it. The phone rings once, panic washes over you, and you immediately hang up. Your face flushes with embarrassment. You enjoy watching others troll people online to their heart's content, but you don’t have the confidence for that. What were you thinking?
You bury your face in your hands, cursing your impulsiveness and rolling over. The cheap bed frame squeaks as you adjust yourself. How desperate are you for entertainment, anyway? You could just throw on an anime and waste the day away like you always do. Maybe mom got more instant ramen at the store today; you could go heat some up and screen-share a show with your friends.
Seconds later, your phone rings. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you had a heart attack. You sit up, faster than ever, and snatch your cell. You look at the screen, hands shaking, and your heart skips a beat. Reigen Arataka is calling you back.
The horror sets in. What should you do? Ignore it? Answer it? Your mind races, filtering through all the possibilities you could pursue—but your body acts on its own.
“Hello?”
His voice is confident and smooth, catching you off guard. It sounds just like it did on TV. You try to respond but find your throat dry and constricted.
“Hello? Is someone there?” Reigen asks again, sounding slightly concerned.
You manage to force out a sound, but it’s more of a squeak than a word. Embarrassment washes over you, and you feel like hanging up again, but you’re frozen in place.
“I noticed someone called from this number a moment ago. Is there anything I can help you with?”
You take a deep breath, trying to steady your voice. Are you hyperventilating? Oh god, what if he hears how hard you’re breathing?
"...Is this a prank call?"
“I… I got a message on Friendbook,” you finally manage to say, your words tumbling out in a rush. It’s as if your tongue is racing to get the sentence out faster than he can hang up. Why are you so worried about him misunderstanding you?
“Oh, right! You must be one of the people who added me,” Reigen replies, sounding both surprised and embarrassed. “You called pretty quickly! How can I help you? Are you interested in a consultation?”
Reigen sounds almost too excited—desperate even. Your anxiety lessens a bit hearing the tone in his voice. What are you so afraid of, anyway? This guy is a grade-A loser. At least… That’s what the media is saying. What do you have to fear?
“Um, yeah. I mean, maybe. Just thought it might be… interesting?” You cringe at your own words, hoping you don’t sound stupid. Who are you kidding? You definitely sound stupid. 'Interesting' is putting it nicely.
Reigen chuckles. “I get it. It can be a bit daunting to reach out for help regarding this type of stuff. Tell you what, how about I set you up with a free consultation? No strings attached."
You bite your lip, considering his offer. A meeting with him? Is this business actually legit, then? No, that’d be ridiculous. Everyone and their mom knows the guy is a bona fide scammer at this point.
"Okay,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “Um, would I be going in person, or...?”
"Great! Let’s schedule it then. How about tomorrow afternoon?” Reigen suggests. You can practically hear his pride over the phone.
“Sure,” you agree, feeling annoyed that he didn’t answer your question.
“Perfect, I’ve got you down at that time. I’ll see you then,” Reigen says.
"Wait, wait, see me? This isn’t an over-the-phone type situation?" You panic, your voice raising a bit out of fear. There’s no way you’re actually going to walk all the way to his office to see if anything funny would happen! It wouldn’t be worth it; if anything, it’d be a total waste of time.
"Sorry, but if we tried to help all our clients out over the phone, nothing would get done," he begins. You hear two subtle 'clunks' and a creak on the other end. Did he just kick his feet up on his desk? "So, if that’s not an issue, I’ll see you tomorrow?”
"Uh, okay." You absentmindedly agree, too focused on the image he put in your head of him doing that. When he was on TV, he wore that grey suit with the pink tie. You wonder if that’s what he has on today. Is the material cheap, or is it soft? Does he have more ties?
...Why are you thinking about that?
If he replies, you sure as hell didn’t hear it, and the call already ends.
You stare at your screen, the reality of what you just agreed to sinking in. You throw your phone onto the bed and bury your face in your pillow, letting out a muffled scream. What have you just done? The embarrassment is overwhelming.
You? Going out for the first time in years, meeting face to face with a guy who’s famous, but for all the wrong reasons? The man who practically owns your gif folder? Reigen "Greatest Psychic of the 21st Century" Arataka?
God, what are you going to wear? Your wardrobe is embarrassing—corny anime shirts, old stained jeans, dirty hi-tops... Maybe you could throw a hoodie over a graphic tee and call it a day, just like in high school. For some reason though, the idea makes you wince. You know you’re a loser too, but any high ground would be lost if you show up in something embarrassing.
You look back at your laptop and gaze at the image you stopped scrolling on. It’s a photo of the man himself, at a bar. The post is stupid, just a dumb selfie he obviously took when he was drunk. Good thing this is private, but if a journalist happened to add him, they’d have a field day for sure. You smirk at the idea of news outlets using this image to smear him.
You’re beside yourself, gazing at the selfie. Underneath it all, there’s a spark of something else. Something you want to shove down, a speck of interest you want to stomp out before it can grow. Why is he kind of...
No. You shut your laptop, roll over, and sigh. Pulling the blankets onto you, the cool material helps ease your tension.
The rest of the day passes in a blur. You try to distract yourself with your usual activities—binge-watching anime, scrolling through social media, chatting with friends online—but your mind keeps drifting back to the upcoming consultation.
What will it be like? Will Reigen be as ridiculous in person as he seems online?
That night, you toss and turn in bed, unable to sleep. Your mind is a whirl of anxious thoughts, a never-ending stream of worries. All of a sudden, it dawns on you.
"Shit, I don’t have any clean clothes."