Mob: Psychic Hero

What would I do without someone like you?

"Shishou," Shigeo broke the silence in the office, a rare occurrence. It was a particularly slow day. All he was really doing was preparation for the written exams. "I have news."

"Oh? What's up, Mob?" Reigen didn't look up from his computer, still perfecting the eye strain of a website he made for Spirits n' Such. The tea in his mug sloshed around in one hand, bringing it up to his lips.

"I'm applying for UA."

Reigen spat tea all over his computer. "Oh for God's— Mob!" He didn't know whether to lament at his tea stained computer or celebrate this revelation. He chose the latter. "Mob, that's amazing! You've figured out what you want to do?"

Shigeo nodded, levitating the tea covering the computer back into Reigen's mug. "I don't know for sure what exactly. But at least, by getting a license to use my quirk, I can help people when they themselves aren't capable. Midoriya inspired me. Back when the sludge villain attacked me, he did what I couldn't. His legs moved before his brain did. Meanwhile I could have broken free and incapacitated the villain myself. But I was too afraid, shishou. Of myself. And what I might have done to the bystanders. So I stood idly by and watched my best friend risk his life for my sake."

He took a moment to properly form his next words. "His selfless act woke me up. That I have the capability to act in the same way. I just choose not to. I want there to be a moment where my body moves before my brain. My only instinct to be, save that person. No matter what. For that to ever happen, I need to be in control. Which is why I think that UA would be a good school to learn how."

That was the most Mob had ever spoken in a while, Reigen thought, so this must have been weighing heavily on his mind. He stood up from his desk chair and crouched down in front of where Shigeo was sitting on the sofa, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Mob, I'm glad you told me." He struck a flamboyant pose. "Because this guy is going to make you work so hard to get you a place in that school!"

"Midoriya has a personal trainer. He let me join."

"Ah. Well, in that case, I'll train you... Mentally!" Striking yet another flamboyant pose, Reigen envisioned a schedule for Shigeo to follow. "Right. Well, am I able to meet up with this personal trainer? I want to ask about your training times, so I can plan accordingly for your mental training. As in, for the written exam."

Shigeo hesitated for a second. Because of the identity of said personal trainer, he wasn't sure if he could have Reigen meet him. "I'll ask." He settled for that answer.

Reigen smiled. "I've never seen you be so sure of anything, if you don't mind me saying. I think that heroics could be a good career for you. Save the civilians, be popular with the ladies." Something in the pit of Shigeo's stomach objected to that word. It felt... wrong. He quietened a little at that, shrinking into himself slightly. Enough for Reigen to notice. "What's wrong, Mob?"

"Nothing," He lied. Well, to an extent, it was true, because it's not like he knew why his stomach hurt when someone would talk about his future so... rigidly? As if he only existed to eventually get a girlfriend. Or wife. And it wasn't like he knew the answer to a similar predicament, where his stomach would feel so light whenever Izuku looked at him a certain way. Or why he felt so warm whenever they watched movies on the sofa during sleepovers, and the other would fall asleep on his shoulder. Why he used to stare ever so slightly too long at the shirtless models in his Mom's magazines. Sometimes his imagination would go too wild, and he would have dreams of him kissing someone who wasn't a girl. But, like all his feelings and emotions, he had to keep those locked away. For everyone's safety.

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"I won't press you if it makes you uncomfortable. But remember, I'll always support you. No matter what." Being someone of his... social status, Reigen had the faintest inkling that his pupil wasn't too dissimilar to himself. Of course, he had the sense not to pry. Still, he had to hint at what his reaction would be to a certain conversation that may or may not happen eventually.