A/N: Glad to see the fandom is still alive! Thanks for all the favorites, follows, and reviews, you guys! I'm super grateful, especially considering this is my first step back into writing in years. Fun Fact: This story started off as a one-shot, but the original was too bare for my liking, so I fleshed it out into a two-shot. It had gotten better, but then I saw the holes, so I fleshed it out even more. Now it has multiple chapters, one of my greatest fears. I had always had big plotlines running through my head, but I could never see them to fruition (as evidenced by some of my discontinued works and preference of one-shots). I really liked the premise I had thought up, so I decided not to publish anything until it was complete.

I can safely assure you that this fic won't be discontinued or abandoned. I'm committed AF. I'm just polishing it up before posting the chapters. I'm sifting through the chapters to make sure everything makes sense, constantly questioning… are my characters properly motivated in their convictions? Are the dialogue and descriptions redundant? Is everyone staying in character throughout the story (I apologize for any OOC-ness if not)? Is there consistency between each chapter? Are there any elements that I introduced for convenience's sake only to drop them later? And the most important question: DOES EVERYTHING MAKE SENSE?! Constructive criticism is always welcome. I will try to keep a constant update timetable/schedule, but no promises. There will be seven entries in total – the prologue, five chapters, and the epilogue. With this, I removed the suspense for some people, and in others increased it, I'm sure.

An OC will be introduced in this chapter. She is not one that will be mentioned in any future Ghost Hunt fics I intend to write (I'm actually in the midst of outlining a second one now, not a sequel). She is vital to this story alone, but don't feel bad if you don't like her. Forewarning: there will be excerpts of exposition on her in the first two chapter, so I apologize if that bothers you; I'm currently trying to trim it down. I tried my best, but she still might come off a bit Mary Sue. Meh, enough of my ramblings! Ghost Hunt BINGO cards (or any fanfiction or literary BINGO cards, really) at the ready, please! It's time to dive into the first chapter!


Chapter 1:
Their First Encounter

Yamasaka Shinobu believed in facts. She believed in science and research. Conversely, ever since she could remember, she had been capable of… supernatural feats. They were the sort of things that neither science nor logic could explain. She had begun to study texts on the parapsychology in her first year of junior high and secretly conducted some research into during her third year of junior high. She had found both experts and scammers in her search for someone to help control her powers. The years passed with her attempting to solve the puzzle of her own self, alone. And, although she was still far from complete mastery of her powers, Shinobu had had sufficient enough control to not use them unconsciously during her graduation ceremony. However, she had quickly learned that with this newfound control came gnawing curiosity. She had wondered if she could see a person's history as well as she could an item's. It was on a balmy night that Shinobu had used her powers to jump into her slumbering sister's memories.

It was entertaining at first, reliving their days together, seeing her workplace persona and drunken side that she never brought home. Then it became unsettling as her sister's recollections abruptly dropped away and became another's. It seemed as if it were by Frankenstein's hand that the memories were so crudely stitched together; the flow clipped short at one place and attached to a separate one. Shinobu had seen her sister living another life with other people, another family. Was it some sort of past life? Did everyone possess such memories? The gnawing curiosity returned, amplified with anxiety. The high schooler had used her powers on animals and classmates the next day, but each of their memories were their own. It had only happened with her sister…..

Nosing through the woman's "past life" had made Shinobu aware of so many feelings she had never before experienced – jealousy and envy for having her, but not being able to have all of her, and a horror that stemmed from the fear of being abandoned for her sister's past family.

The high schooler bitterly hated everyone her sister seemed to have loved in her "past life," especially the man with whom she seemed so inexplicably infatuated. He was a man that had made her sister angry countless times and had pushed her to tears half as many. Her heart had hardened against him upon seeing him. However, more than all his transgressions against her sister, he had been the reason why Shinobu saw a beautiful smile light her sister's face; something that she herself had yet to witness in the waking world. Shinobu's heart further hardened against such a hateful man.

After that night her sister had begun to act strangely. She had dug up an old wallet and worn shawl that had somehow survived the fire. The ratty wallet was kept on her nightstand while she slept, and she mended the shawl to look more presentable. There had been many instances in which she would forget where she was and who Shinobu was. The confusion and the loss of her memories had concerned the high schooler and broke her heart. Her sister had begun to wander around in her bemusement, increasing the worry she felt.

The first few times it had happened, Shinobu had found her wandering the streets of their neighborhood, lost, clutching to the wallet and wearing the shawl like a scarf. She would get further and further away each time. She had been close to the train station the last time she had found her, and Shinobu's heart had nearly stopped at the thought of losing her sister on a train packed with people, buried under countless other emanations. Upon her sister's retrieval, she had noticed that the woman's body would be mottled with various cuts and bruises, so Shinobu had taken her to a doctor like the good little sister that she was. Her sister had been prescribed sedatives. The doctor had also encouraged Shinobu to frequently speak with her sister, remind her of who she was, so she had done just that. She had given her sister two pills each evening and would reminisce with her before bed and while they breakfasted. She would bring up a memory in her mind's eye and try to convey it to her as best as she could.

This method had worked at first. Her sister had calmed enough that they had been able to leave Yokohama without the high schooler having to worry about her wandering off. They had been halfway into the bottle when Shinobu had stopped giving her sister the pills and shoved them to the back of a kitchen drawer. Instead, she had simply continued to talk with her sister every morning and evening about their pasts – who they both were, and how much she adored her. It had been so nice seeing her sister's smile, to have helped alleviate her of her affliction.

A week later, her sister had started sleep-talking. Sleepwalking had come after the third week, and her limbs were once again peppered with small injuries. With tears in her eyes and emotion coloring her voice, Shinobu had successfully helped her sister call in for an extended sick-leave from work. The high schooler had locked the doors and windows from that point on – at night and when she left for school. She had taken her sister's keys and usually kept the ill woman confined to her bedroom for her own protection.

The stress of keeping her sister safe and by her side had been draining, still was, but she had been sure that it was only a matter of time until she recovered. By the end of the month, furniture had begun to move around, lights flickered, trinkets would be broken or go missing, and the high schooler had found papers strewn about her sister's room. Each line had been filled with hasty scribbles of the same, disturbing statement.

That when things had slowly begun to spiral out of control – chairs moved, cups broke, and the house rattled. Shinobu had consulted her old reference books about the paranormal and had posted on the parapsychology forums that she frequented. She did not know how to deal with the supernatural outside of herself. She had searched for exorcists, but had been directed to the scammers she had found back in middle school.

Desperate, the high schooler had taken her sister to Shinto shrines, Buddhist temples, and Christian churches, but she had no trouble stepping on any of the sacred grounds. On top of that, none of the various priests or priestesses hadn't sensed, or probably just couldn't sense, a spirit possessing her. More and more pages filled with those hasty, terrifying scribbles had turned up, and more and more things had been found either displaced or broken in the house.

When the forums had mentioned a certain famous professor making his one of his regular visits to Japan, she had swallowed her pride and registered for attendance at the university he was speaking. From what she knew of him, he was a hard-nosed man who would take more to incentive than persuasion, so that evening, Shinobu had fished out her sister's old pills and mixed some into her sister's nightly tea. While she slept, the high schooler dove into the woman's memories. In her most recent recollections, she saw her sister find the charred wallet in a locked box in their attic. She watched her open the raggedy thing to stare at a picture of two boys, identical in face and hair. Recognizing it, Shinobu had cut the connection and had immediately taken the barely intact wallet and glared at it, as if it were the source of all her grief.

Going to see Davis-hakase was the first time she had ever skipped class since elementary school, and she couldn't even pay attention. The buzzing in Shinobu's ears deafened her to the lecture, although her black eyes were pinned on the speaker.

Davis-hakase was pointlessly handsome for a man of his age and occupation, and she was surprised at the lack of lady-admirers there were in attendance. Little about him had changed in the past five years, from what she could see. How her sister had fallen in love with him years ago was a mystery to her. She brought a notebook and pen but took no notes, too fixated on the man who had probably forgotten all about her sister. At the end of his lecture, the high schooler clapped out of courtesy but was the only one not to stand. She watched as people left the auditorium, watched as they approached him with questions. She felt glued to her chair. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her sister and stir up any sort of unnecessary drama at her house, but he was the only person who could help her, and she was desperately desperate.

As the room emptied and he began tidying up, she stood and went down the stairs to speak with him. Getting a closer look at him, his unreasonable handsomeness winded her. Black hair was slicked back to show off his intelligent-looking forehead. The black-rimmed rectangular glasses perched on his nose complimented his facial shape and did nothing to curb the intensity of his eyes. His face resembled that of a marble carving – beautiful, unmoving. He was taller and more broad-shouldered than her sister remembered and wore a bespoke black suit of costly material. A steel-faced watch with a black leather band wrapped around his left wrist, glinting handsomely in the harsh auditorium lights.

"Do you need something?"

She gave a quick bow. "Yamasaka. Yamasaka, Shinobu. I'm an… avid reader of your books, Davis-hakase," she worded herself carefully as she pulled said texts from her bag.

The professor held up a hand and frowned. "I don't give autographs."

Shinobu glared at him. "I don't want an autograph." She put the books away. "I want help. Actually, I need it." The professor said nothing; he ignored her and continued packing. She began pleading, "Onee-san's been acting strange lately, and none of the doctors seem to know why." Panic threw itself against the cage of her ribs as she noticed there was nothing left for him to put away. "I can pay you!" she insisted.

At this, he turned to her, the frown still firmly on his face. With his hands clasped behind his back, he shook his head slowly, condescendingly, as he talked down to her, "If you've read the forewords of my more recent publications, then you'll know that I'm not in that business anymore. I suggest you find someone else. Besides," – the smirk he gave her was decidedly unpleasant – "even if I were still working in such a field, you wouldn't be able to afford me." The spiteful curve in his lip fell, and that dispassionate frown was back on his disgustingly beautiful face. "I come to Japan for a specific reason, and I cannot afford to waste my time here with you, so I'm afraid this is good-bye."

Shinobu slammed her hands down on the desk in front of his bag and leaned forward to look deeply into his eyes. The boom rung out, occupying the silence and masking the sound of silent shuffling. "I will never know what she saw in you," she hissed lowly, vaguely. She stared him down and fell back first with a scowl, dragging her sticky fingers back to her side and behind her back. The high schooler climbed the carpeted stairs, but paused when she heard the quiet zip of his bag. She turned around with a mean-spirited smirk of her own. "Oh, and one more thing, Hakase" – his expensive oxfords clicked as he started towards the exit on the ground floor, ignoring her – "since you don't seem to want to help me, I'll just be borrowing some of your notes!"

He stopped. Davis-hakase stiffly turned to face her. When he saw the unlabeled binder she waved around, he gave a glare so penetratingly hateful that not even with the considerable distance between them could stop the chill buzzing down from the top of her skull to the tips of her toenails. However, she refused him the satisfaction of seeing her reaction and ignored the urge to drop the binder and flee back home.

"I'm sure there's something in here that'll be of use," she stated as she flipped open the cover. She was bluffing of course, she had no idea what was inside the binder, but from his reaction, it must have been something important. Perhaps research on some scientific breakthrough of his? The title page was blank and obviously had nothing to tell her. Her brow furrowed as she turned another page. Blank – there was no table of contents either…. Shinobu turned another page and stopped. Finally, she found something! It was a copy of a newspaper clipping that had been thoroughly examined if the lines, circles, and annotations had anything to say about it

LOCAL HERO, TANIYAMA MAI
19XX/06/03-20XX/01/19

Taniyama Mai, 18, lost her life to a fire that consumed a house
in which she was a guest. She helped the Satous to escape
from
their burning house, and even returned inside for a trapped
family
member. Taniyama Mai was an orphan, but Satou Daichi, her
ass-
ociate and the homeowner, identified her body at the hospital and
hailed her as his family's hero. Due to the condition of Taniyama Mai's
body and her unfortunate familial circumstance, neither a wake nor a
formal funeral were held. However, to show his gratitude, Satou Daichi
covered the cost of her cremation and helped to have her ashes interred
in her beside her mother and father, who are undoubtedly proud of what
she had accomplished, the lives she had saved in exchange for her own.

The smirk on her face fell when she saw the picture attached to the obituary. Her eyes widened, "W… What?" She flipped through more pages. More notes, copies of official documents, pictures of familiar faces… the blood drained from her face. Oh, god… is Davis-Hakase stalki–?

"Return it."

The deep, almost menacing, voice broke Shinobu out of her horrified reverie, and she snapped the binder closed. He had put his bag back on the desk in anticipation of having the stolen item returned to him. She childishly hid the binder behind her back to hide her shaking fingers and quelled the trembling of her lips with a large and mocking grin. "What's that? You're offering to help me at no charge? Well, Hakase, I must say that this is a wonderful surprise."

He adjusted his glasses before reiterating his demand, "You will return those papers." The room literally vibrated with tension, and the air echoed with the rattling of the chairs and fold-out desk tops. None of it scared her. She was more shaken by the binder in her hands. The high schooler scoffed through her nose as she looked down at him from her superior height on the stairs. "You have no idea with whom you are messing, little girl," he warned, practically threatening her.

Desperation drove people mad. Shinobu knew this well; she had read about it both in fiction and non-fiction books. It seemed that she was becoming more and more unhinged herself because, although she knew what this man was capable of, she did not see him as a threat, just as a means to an end. His rejection had cornered her further in her desperation, and her kindness and patience had deserted her. She needed his help; her sister needed his help. She had no qualms if she had to play a bit dirty. "Oh, I know exactly who you are, which puts you at quite the disadvantage… Naru." The room dropped several degrees, and she could see her breath, but she still stood un-phased – impressed, but un-phased.

"How—?"

"Tell you what," she cut him off impatiently, "since I got such interesting notes from you, I'll give you something in return, something you lost a long time ago." She opened her bag and pulled out the burnt wallet. "Here, my sister and I don't need the thing you put in there. In fact, keep the whole wallet since it doesn't belong to anyone in my family." The high schooler threw it down to him and was not surprised when he was completely unresponsive. She waved the binder around once more. "This should provide more than enough incentive, if I've read your reaction correctly. Safe to assume that I'll be expecting you within a few days, yes?" she spoke confidently, turning around and waving a careless hand. Shinobu tossed one more smirk over her shoulder. "Now… this is good-bye, Hakase," she mocked his earlier, premature parting words and left the freezing auditorium with a hop and a cheery hum.


There were no words that Dr. Oliver Davis could use to express himself in that moment. That binder was the complete accumulation of his investigation on Mai. All of his findings, his case notes, and his research were in that binder. Losing it dealt him with an indescribable feeling. At least I know the details of this theft, he thought scornfully. He had but the original and usually kept it safe-guarded at all times, lest someone find it and try and have him committed, but his plan backfired.

Oliver was probably the only person in who believed that Taniyama Mai was still very much alive. The researcher had been able to follow her trail to Aomori Hospital, but without access to their records, he was shown her death certificate and the door. By then, everyone had been emotionally exhausted, and getting an official confirmation on Mai's death basically sealed the deal in his team's minds. They had quietly accepted what they had been told, although he had tried to convince the idiots otherwise.

But the grief had been so fresh, so deep, that they had not, could not, believe him, not even Lin. Their sorrow had evolved into acceptance, and they had tried to convince him to follow suit. He had quietly raged at their surrender, their self-emancipation from Mai's case. Oliver had announced the closure of the Japanese SPR office; there was no longer a need for it. He had thanked them all for their services, but told them to never contact him again. His relationship with Lin had become strained, to say the least.

Anticipating his return to Cambridge, he had gone to Mai's apartment to try and salvage her things before they were thrown out. The landlady had given him access to her room with a somber face. She had been familiar enough of Mai's circumstances enough to know that no one else would come to collect the girl's belongings, and she wasn't so cruel as to sell the possessions of a dead girl.

He remembered little of her apartment, only being able to clearly recall her nightstand. On it, he had found the picture he had given her framed nicely beside another, more ornate frame that housed an old photo of her late parents. He had posted the boxes back to his home in Cambridge and set everything of hers in Gene's old room for safekeeping. His brother wouldn't have minded and would've probably preferred that there was some use coming from his old living space. Gene had been annoying like that.

Working as a paranormal investigator under his parents had given Oliver little freedom and little power. He enrolled in university to earn a traditional degree. Four semesters and two summers saw him with a bachelor's degree, another year yielded to him a master's. He already had his honorary doctorate and was beyond the age to take on his professorship by that time. Oliver had used his newly acquired affluence to gain access to the patient files at Aomori Hospital under a few false pretenses. There were thousands to search through, but he had one major lead on the case: Satou Daichi. With that, the thousands reduced to hundreds, which unfortunately still required hours of dedicated manpower.

The hospital had also only allowed him access to their files with his physical presence at their authorized computers. The researcher could not check their records in England, and he could not go to the hospital with Lin for obvious reasons. He required more time in Japan than was given under the watchful eyes of Luella and Martin. It was when he had offered to speak at a seminar in Japan, did the news spread: the reclusive Dr. Oliver Davis had voluntarily reached out.

The invitations to speak, teach, and demonstrate in Japan had flooded in. He had and continued to refuse anything long-term, lest he risk his parents hunting him down and dragging him back to lock him up, and stuck to guest lecturing, conventions, and other events of the like. Oliver always visited Aomori Hospital, but, so as to not arouse any suspicion, he never stayed for more than an hour each time. Unfortunately, with each leave, with each interruption, came another entry or a file update. The limited time he had allotted for himself sometimes gave way to the risk of system updates, wasting precious opportunities of research. Regardless, through this process, he had steadily made some headway, adding more and more pages to his binder, and yet he had felt stationary. He had spent years progressing in the right direction while uncertain of the distance.

It was purgatorial.

Oliver restrained himself from throwing his bag at the door and screaming until he coughed blood. It was far too undignified and would be uncharacteristic of him. Instead, he set his glasses on his desk and rubbed at his eyes. He breathed, deep and heavy, in his attempts to regain his calm. Spotting what the girl had thrown at him, he bent down to it. He suppressed the urge to throw the ratty wallet away and undid the button that held it closed. He only caught a glance of its contents before dropping it in shock. Mai's student ID was inside; the plastic cover was slightly charred and melted into the card. He quickly picked it back up and checked through it all. Her student ID was still there, a Suica card, and...

If the researcher were anyone else, his hand would have trembled as he wiped the old ash from the plastic protecting a wallet-sized photograph. She had copied and resized the picture he had given her of him and Gene as children. Of course she had made a copy; Mai had always been a sentimental idiot. On the other side of the flap was a copy of the picture of her parents he saw on her bedside table. He checked the rest of the wallet; there were two pockets for loose change. One actually held coins, while the other had nothing but an old key. Didn't Mai once say that she had a "lucky key," or something of the like? Oliver rifled through the cash pocket and found a square of paper next to some banknotes. Yamasaka Shinobu's name, address, and phone number was on the paper when he unfolded it, and he committed them to memory. His eyes concentrated on the short message: My sister is being possessed. Just bring the most suitable exorcist.

It was an effort to restrain himself. The temptation to give in and see through the wallet was real and present, the false promises a seductive taunt. But he didn't know what would happen with everything inside the wallet – the pictures, the key, the ID; the money itself could prove to be a nightmare. The thought of emptying the wallet crossed his mind, but he didn't pursue it. Judging by the ash still adhering to most of its surface, the wallet probably hadn't been used since the fire. He could assume that the thing probably wouldn't provide any information he didn't already know. But wasn't it worth a try? Did the benefit outweigh the risk?

His inner war jerked him in all different directions. In the background, he heard the opening and closing of the room's doors. "Oliver?" The researcher was still breathing deeply, loudly, when Lin approached. His assistant, really still more of a keeper, sped over to him and took hold of his shoulder. "Oliver? What's wrong? What happened here?" he asked in English, referring to the cold inside the auditorium.

Oliver shook his head, and his breath finally evened out and quieted. His head bent forwards, as if the weight of his thoughts were suddenly too much for his neck to bear, and he gave a low chuckle. "What happened? I found a lead, a fresh lead that will take me directly Mai." The corners of his lips twitched, like he wanted to smile, but the stretch never made it quite far enough. He looked as if he were grimacing.

Lin's hand fell away from Oliver's shoulder. The assistant didn't know whether or not he could be believed, and he honestly leaned towards the negative. The years without Mai had been turbulent and ungracious towards the researcher's mental and social health, especially after he had, quite aggressively, burned all bridges between himself and their former teammates upon her death. Where Eugene could now be remembered fondly, Mai was still a touchy subject, and Oliver's parents knew to never bring her up. None of his current associates even knew of her.

The assistant remembered when they had gone to Aomori Hospital, and the researcher had claimed that her traces had all but vanished there, or, in his words, "was buried under the countless emanations brought about by the high traffic that the hospital faced." Still, the dead end hadn't stopped him. He had been, and still was, just as determined to find her as he had been to find Eugene, if not more due his enduring belief in her survival. Lin himself had accepted the loss, mourned, and moved on years ago like the others. Because of this, it was difficult seeing the researcher so dogged, so hard-headed about the matter, and Lin worried about how he would react when he finally accepted the truth.

Still, he thought, if Oliver says he's found her, why not humor him? Perhaps it'll help him to properly come to terms, at long last. Dr. Oliver Davis was still considered a genius and a man of many talents, but he was not known to change stances without proper evidence to convince him of his error. Lin pulled out his phone as he asked, "Should we notify the others?"

Oliver's head shot up, his glare piercing. Lin swore that the room's temperature just dropped another centigrade or two. "No," he nearly spat.

"But-"

"Absolutely not." He stood up straight this time. Oliver hid Mai's wallet in his bag and held tight to Yamasaka Shinobu's note. "Taniyama Mai is dead to them. They have no right to this case," he stated firmly. Oliver slid his glasses back onto his face and pulled out his phone. An exasperated sigh rushed out through his nose when he saw that he only had one bar in the auditorium. "I'm leaving."

The volatility in his emotions was stunning. There was so little and yet so much happening that Lin could only ask dumbly, "Where to?"

Oliver made his way to the exit. He had already begun to punch in the numbers he had memorized just minutes before. "To a place with decent reception. I have a call to make."


She spent the ride home flipping through his binder. Fear welled inside her with every turned page. She had to stop reading about a quarter into the text, unable to stomach everything inside. The contents inside it greatly disturbed her, and she almost regretted her little theft. Why didn't I try for the watch? It had the same name on it that Ojii-san's watches all had, so it must be expensive. The reasoning was there, but she knew that the watch probably wouldn't have garnered as big of a reaction from him as the binder had. Shinobu put the binder on her desk, not wanting to touch it any longer than needed.

It was about ten minutes since she had gotten home that Davis-hakase's call came in, hardly even an hour after their little "chat". When she picked up her phone, there was no greeting, no introduction, just an impolite and brusque, "Your case has been accepted at no charge. Expect us tomorrow morning at nine o'clock, sharp. Have two empty rooms prepared, and inform your electric provider of a surge in usage for the days we are there." Before she could even take a breath, he hung up. His bad manners annoyed her, but she swallowed her ire. She hoped the exorcism would take one day at the most.

The next day, a large, black van pulled up beside the front gate. Shinobu felt no small amount of triumph at the sight, but it was tempered with apprehension. The fear chilling her blood had nothing to do with the haunting and everything to do with the professor. If she had conducted her research properly, and the high schooler definitely believed that she had, then Davis-hakase shared her ability and was capable of even more. The high schooler wasn't excited to invite him into her home, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and if the precautionary measures she had taken before Davis-hakase's arrival counted for anything, it was proof enough of her desperation.

Shinobu just hoped that her sister would just stay asleep all through the exorcism. The high schooler pushed the woman's bangs into her closed eyes, and put a surgical mask on her, so that the bottom half of her face was covered. It was from her sister's bedroom window that she saw the researcher leave the van with another, taller man. It seemed that the good professor was taking his sweet time opening the gate, and his just-as-dark companion did nothing to prompt him forward. They slowly came to the front door, and he splayed his hand over the heavy wood. Shinobu hadn't felt the scowl on her face until it deepened at the corners. She didn't know how much information he would be able to leech from her current home, but she was more comfortable with less than more.

Her life didn't need the interference of a ghost from her sister's past life.

Shinobu needed her big sister the most. She didn't care what anything or anyone else told her. However, these people, this man, could pose a serious problem if they, if he, saw her. She closed the window and drew the powder-blue curtains closed. Leaving the bedroom, she locked the door behind her and tested it with a satisfied nod. She tucked the key safely into the breast pocket of her dress. The high schooler practically flew down the stairs. Her short braid flew up behind her in her rush to open the front door. The frown on her face was replaced with a congenial smile as she reluctantly welcomed the irritating man and his companion into her home, "Thank you for coming, Hakase. I see you've brought someone. Will he be performing the exorcism?"

The professor was not a warm man by any means, but the look he gave her frosted the morning dew. "Where is Taniyama Mai?"

If Shinobu had been anyone else, she would have cowered, especially considering the menacing-looking man standing behind him. However, she was no stranger to either the paranormal or strong-arm tactics; she would not budge. The high schooler pouted and shook her head. "Haven't seen her, so I don't know. Like I said on the phone: it's just me and Onee-san in this house." The smile jumped back onto her face, and she opened the door wider. "Please, come in. I will go and prepare tea and snacks for you and your companion while you wait in the living room."

Davis-hakase held up a condescending hand. His face was perfectly blank. "No. You will show us to the empty room that I requested. After that, we will collect data and fit your house with cameras and microphones in each room with the exception of the toilet and bath," he commanded.

The pleasant smile on Shinobu's face shook at the corners as she tamed her scowl. She spoke in a measured tone, attempting to maintain civility, "But I've already told you Onee-san is being possessed. Any further investigation isn't required. We just need an exorcism."

Davis-hakase's face was still expressionless, but she felt that his dark eyes were laughing at her in the way that they were narrowed from behind his glasses. "You came to me, Yamasaka-san. If you want my help, then I will be operating under my own terms. You should have known that this is how I used to conduct myself if you are indeed such an 'avid reader' of mine."

It was a bluff, of course. She knew that if he had expected to hit such an obstacle as this, he would not have accepted the case without proper incentive. The fact that he was standing at her door, was proof enough that he wanted to take her sister's case. However, she also knew that he was manipulative, as evidenced by his empty ultimatum. If the high schooler denied him this, he would try to pull something else, like overstay his already unwelcome welcome.

"Fine," Shinobu spat. The smile had fallen from her face, and she was glaring at him quite unhindered now.

He did not revel in his victory as she had expected, but simply nodded to the taller man who took his cue to return to the van. He removed his fine shoes and set them neatly to the side before stepping into a pair of guest slippers that went unused for the most part. Shinobu was surprised that he had the base etiquette to change his shoes. The professor turned back to her, the laughter gone from his eyes. "Lead the way."

"But-"

"Lin is only retrieving the equipment. He will be joining us soon." He looked down at her from his nose. "I really am beginning to doubt the supposed ardor you proclaimed to have felt about my books, Yamasaka Shinobu." He stared her down as he took a step deeper into the house. "Lead the way," the way he over enunciated each syllable with his reiteration was infuriatingly condescending. However, she said nothing and turned on her heel. Though she could need see him, she could hear his steps lagging behind hers, and the high schooler knew he was collecting information. Everything in the house had a memory, held some sort of emanation, and Shinobu wished that the man she hired was less competent. She took him to the guest bedroom on the ground floor, the farthest room from her sister's.

She waited for him before opening the door. He stepped in without a single ounce of politeness and looked around with a quick flicker of his eyes and an adjustment of his glasses. "This is sufficient," he said in a tone that did nothing to reflect his apparent approval.

A tense silence followed as they both stood in the room, staring at each other. Shinobu did not like him, and she was suspicious of his actions. Nevertheless, her sister had taught her how to receive guests properly, and she was aware of how inhospitable she was being. She looked away, towards the door, and recalled her manners. The high schooler cleared her throat uncomfortably before asking, "Ah… Can I get you anything?"

"Tea."