Years of working as a so-called “psychic service expert” had made Reigen comfortable with lying straight to his clients’ faces. Business only really started to pick up after Mob—an actual psychic—joined him as his apprentice. Reigen never did any of the heavy lifting himself, but he made it a personal rule to at least pretend to try when the problem was something Mob, a quiet and socially awkward student, didn’t quite know how to handle.

It had been a long week—and a scorching one at that. Even with the blinds drawn, the sunlight leaked stubbornly through the cracks, heating the room until it felt like the blazing star outside might explode at any moment. Reigen fanned himself with a stack of papers, grumbling under his breath while casting impatient glances at the silent phone. An ice-cold soda would taste like heaven, but he resisted the temptation; no sense setting a bad example in front of Mob, who was enduring the heat with the composure of someone born in the desert.

Reigen’s mood soured further at the sight. How was it that a teenage boy could withstand the sweltering air better than him—a supposedly responsible, capable, and tough adult? He knew full well he wasn’t any of those things, but lying to himself had always been easier than facing the truth. Confidence, even when faked, was its own kind of armor.

Minutes dragged like hours. Just as Reigen was about to doze off for the umpteenth time that afternoon, the office door creaked open and a figure stepped inside—you.

After some small talk, Reigen learned why you’d come. You claimed a “bad aura” had been trailing you, and you wanted it gone as quickly as possible so you could live your life without the constant weight of unease.

Reigen and Mob exchanged a few words in low conversation, though the truth was obvious: Reigen was only filling the silence. Mob was the only one who could truly sense and dispel something like this.

Tap. Tap. Tap. The sound of Reigen’s finger striking the desk echoed through the room, the only noise in the heavy air. His eyes locked onto you, narrowed and calculating, as if sheer focus alone might reveal the truth. Come on, Reigen. This is supposed to be your job, he told himself, squinting harder, though the effort only seemed to blur his vision further.