Reí wasn't sure when he noticed it. Maybe it had been happening all along. Maybe the weight of Shigaraki's presence had just been background noise—something he'd grown used to, like the hum of danger that always lingered in Villain VA.
But now, he couldn't ignore it.
Shigaraki was still watching. Still following. But there was something different—something forced about it.
Reí wasn't stupid. He knew when someone wanted to be there. And Shigaraki? He didn't.
The realization hit like a slow burn, and tonight—when he rounded the empty hallways of Villain VA and found Shigaraki lingering just a few steps behind—he decided he was done pretending not to notice.
Reí stopped walking. Shigaraki stopped, too.
"You don't have to do this," Reí said, turning fully to face him. His voice wasn't challenging, just quiet.
Shigaraki exhaled sharply, head tilting, gaze heavy. "You don't get it."
"Then explain it to me."
Shigaraki's fingers twitched near his collar—his usual tell when irritation ran beneath his skin. "It's not about wanting to. It's about having to."
Reí studied him for a long moment. "Who put you on babysitting duty?"
A humorless chuckle. "Who do you think?"
Reí's chest tightened. Shigaraki didn't need to spell it out. Of course. Of course it was someone bigger than him. Bigger than both of them.
Shigaraki took a slow step forward, his presence pressing down like a storm cloud. "You think you understand me, but you don't. This isn't some twisted obsession. It's not me playing games. It's orders."
Reí swallowed down the strange bitterness rising in his throat. He had never asked for protection. Never wanted it.
And neither had Shigaraki.
They stood there, locked in a silence heavy with things neither of them could say.
"Then what happens when you don't follow those orders?" Reí finally asked, voice quieter now.
Shigaraki's lips curled slightly—not in amusement, but something closer to resignation.
"You don't want to find out."
Reí had been dealing with Shigaraki's constant presence for days now. It wasn't just annoying—it was suffocating.
At first, he had ignored it. Everyone in Villain VA had someone watching their back, whether they wanted it or not.
But this? This was something else. This was Shigaraki being his assigned protector. And judging by the perpetual look of disdain on his face, he wasn't any happier about it than Reí was.
Tonight was the breaking point.
Reí was attempting to eat dinner—a cold, probably-stolen meal in the dingy Villain VA cafeteria—when he felt it. The stare. The unrelenting watchfulness.
He sighed heavily, didn't even look up. "You're hovering again."
Nothing. No response.
Slowly, with the exaggerated exasperation of a man over this nonsense, Reí dragged his gaze up to where Shigaraki stood—just standing there, arms crossed, radiating something between obligation and loathing.
"Seriously?" Reí muttered, shoving a bite of food into his mouth. "Are you gonna watch me chew, too?"
Shigaraki gave an unimpressed glance. "You eat like a feral dog."
"Yeah? And you follow me like an obsessive ex."
Shigaraki's fingers twitched near his collar. "I'm not following you. I'm fulfilling my role."
Reí snorted. "A role you hate."
Shigaraki didn't even argue—just stared at him with the kind of blank exhaustion that said he had given up fighting this battle.
Reí leaned back, crossing his arms. "So. Protector, huh? What exactly does that mean? You jump in front of bullets for me? Tuck me in at night? Bake me cookies when I've had a long day?"
Shigaraki's expression didn't change. "No."
"What about emotional support? Do I get a daily pep talk? Words of affirmation?"
Another flat, "No."
Reí smirked. "Then what do I get?"
Shigaraki sighed, pressing his fingers to his temples like this conversation was physically paining him. "You get alive. That's it."
Reí pretended to think. "Alive, huh? Sounds a little basic. I was hoping for at least a cool catchphrase or something."
Shigaraki exhaled sharply—maybe a laugh, maybe just frustration. Either way, he shook his head. "You're annoying."
"And you are stuck with me."
Silence stretched between them, but there was something lighter in it now—something reluctant, something a little less hostile.
Shigaraki turned away first, muttering under his breath as he strode off to keep his mandatory watch from a less conspicuous distance.
And Reí? He grinned.
Shigaraki hated this job.
But something told Reí he wasn't getting rid of him anytime soon.