Chapter Text
reigen had made a grave mistake hiring you.
when your parents first came to see him, they left raving reviews — a wonder for business, and naturally an incentive to keep them happy. not long after that, on their next visit, they told him that their daughter would be more than glad to work here in the summer. said you were interested in what he did, in stuff similar to it. only if it was something he was looking for, they’d reassured, and you wouldn’t even have to get paid for it! so being the awesome, charming and extremely keen business man that he was, he’d said of course they could bring you and there was no problem at all. and there shouldn’t have been, but then he saw you.
reigen expected you to be a bit older. started wishing that you were, too — well, not like there was anything wrong! sure, his main worker was only in primary school, and it wasn’t like he had any problem with him — but around you, it was different. terribly so. looking at the daughter your parents had so highly described, had so adoringly spoken of filled him with an emotion he couldn’t put into words. he could never tell whether he was opposed or too eccentric towards being around you. he paid you, even though he didn’t have to, and it was more than he usually did with mob. he even let you take really long breaks to talk to your friends on the phone or even play video games when you technically should have been working, because you’d just ask so nicely, and how could he ever deny you? he’d even offer to drive you home, let you sit up front, even though you were probably too young to.
it was a terrible mistake. now, as he sat down writing more praise than was probably appropriate on your performance report for the week, he forced himself to come to terms with how terribly disgusting he was. what a pervert! looking at you like he was in love with you all the time, bending to your every whim like he didn’t have an ounce of common sense or couldn’t think for himself like the adult he was. it was terrible, so utterly terrible and disgusting that he started swearing up and down he would stop. promised himself that even if you looked up at him or grinned or begged him to sit up front because you were ‘old enough’ (something that gave him a disgusting feeling of nausea when he thought about it at night) that it wouldn’t happen again, that he’d control himself. get himself in check.
all his resolve was lost when you opened the door to his office. you were nervous, it would seem, avoiding his gaze to busy yourself with your nails instead. it made him hate himself even more for looking, so he went back to looking over the report.
“did i do bad?” your voice, all quiet and uncertain, forced him to look up (or maybe down?) at you where you stood by the door. “you seem like you’re upset with me.”
“why would i be upset with you?” the question sounded sarcastic, but he didn’t bring himself to change the tone. still clinging on to the false hope of resolve, he continued. “you did just fine. great, even. do you want to see it?” you nodded, closing the door and making your way to the chair in the front of his desk slower than you really needed to. he pushed the paper over to you, trying his best not to look at you and ultimately failing. you sat there biting back a grin, looking up at him when you finished reading. “you really think i have…” a pause, as you visibly sounded out the words. “…an exceptional work ethic..?” the grin widened, full-blown now, and his resolve went out the window.
he reached forward to put his hand on your shoulder, then started overthinking the inappropriately romantic implications of the gesture and settled for an eccentric thumbs-up instead. “sure, kid. the greatest,” he admitted, trying his best to smile back at you even though he felt certain he’d be immediately whisked away to hell any second now. you looked back through the report, grinning again before delivering the final blow — “so, i get a reward, right, mister reigen?”
his already-shaking smile faltered. it took him a few seconds to regain his composure, but he was sure you’d already seen it, too. seen how he had to sit up straighter, suck in his breath, and look away before he could talk to you. “a reward?” he propped up his head with his fist, pretending to think about it. “i’m sure your parents would be happy to do it for you. why don’t you ask them?” you pouted, sighing exaggeratedly before your next attempt. you made sure you were looking up at him — for whatever reason, it seemed to always win him over — then tried again. “no, i mean, with you. i wanna get a reward from you.”
he looked away almost instantly, rubbing the back of his neck. “you want a reward from me? like what?” you huffed. why did he make things so difficult?! “you said you’d take me out, like how you do with mob sometimes. that’s what i want.” reigen’s gaze didn’t shift in the slightest when he responded. “i don’t think that’s… don’t you want your parents to take you? you sure you wanna go with me?” you nodded, suddenly finding yourself more interested in the fabric at the bottom of your shirt. did you make him mad? fighting back the urge to start sniffling, you responded best you could. “yeah! ‘cause you’re the best boss ever, mister reigen.” that seemed to get him to look at you! he gave a soft sigh, shaking his head. “if it’s what you want, i’ll take ya. but you gotta ask your parents, though, kid.”
you didn’t waste any time scrambling to your feet once he agreed, hurriedly showering him with a stuttered ensemble of thanks and praises before you walked out. if you could call it walking, at least. then reigen was left alone with his thoughts. thoughts about how he’d made another terrible mistake. maybe he could get out of it? stand you up, magically be busy with something. but the prospect of how upset you’d be as a result quickly put an end to that.
he was stuck, so terribly stuck. and the problem he was facing, all revolting and distressing as was humanely possible, seemed like it’d never go away.
after he was sure you’d left, reigen lit himself a cigarette.