Reigen looked at them, his eyes glazed over as he took in each small face—until he saw one in particular. A blonde kid. His grandpa. A flicker of irritation. “Ah, yeah. Those two…” Reigen murmured and rubbed his head. “For crying out loud Mob, I still can’t believe you—“

Mob.

Mob.

It was like someone dumped a bucket of ice water over Reigen.

He was suddenly watching himself, half-drunk with his client on his arm. Mob. What if he saw this? How could Reigen even explain this? What was he doing?