Disclaimer: I do not own Ghost Hunt, or any of the characters from the show/manga. If I did, I would have an editor to torment with last minute alterations.
WARNING Contains Spoilers.
Chapter 4: Bed of Fears
A soft knock at the door causes me to jump, gripping the baseball bat in my hands so tightly that my knuckles grow white. The last thing I feel like dealing with is unexpected guests, especially when the only 'visitor' I am expecting shouldn't even exist.
Only children believe in stories like that, yet here I am, cowering in my own house.
I scold myself, still unable to rationalise away my apprehension as I creep cautiously towards the front door. There is a second, more determined knock on the wood barring me from the outside world, and I curse at my involuntary flinch.
"Y-yes?" I offer, praying that my worst nightmares have not come true.
"Cho…? It's me." A relieved, infinitely recognisable voice returns. I don't have to ask who 'me' is; every night and every day I have longed to hear his voice, but I know all too well that this moment will not last. I have committed too many sins.
"Yutaka? W-what are you doing here?"
My words stumble over each other, and I lean my head against the architrave, frustrated at my inability to control the wave of mixed emotions that consume me. Knowing it is a hopeless cause, I open the door for my husband, taking in his worn appearance, tired eyes and unshaven face.
"We need to talk." He says, and I am tempted to breakdown in his warm arms, confessing the secret that has slowly torn us apart over the last two years through my selfishness and stupidity. It is not until his hand reaches out to gently cup my cheek that I realise I am crying, and he pulls me into his embrace on my behalf.
"I've…I've missed you too, Cho. I want to give us another chance…" He angles my face up to meet his, and I see the doubt in his eyes. They are swimming with unanswered questions, worries that he thinks only the truth can ease – but Yutaka does not know that what I might say would shake his world to the very foundations. The woman he once married no longer exists, unable to give him what he needs, or rather, deserves to know. I cannot tell him the truth.
I cling to him, burying my face in his chest, as if such an action might postpone my inevitable loss, but his hands grow cold on my skin – ever so cold, like ice. Water pools at our feet, dripping steadily from the hem of Yutaka's coat, it's dampness slowly seeping into my clothes.
Strange, was it raining before…?
I don't remember.
"If it's not another man…" He breathes; voice little louder than a whisper, "Then what is it, Cho?"
I wrack my mind for an excuse, any excuse, to appease him and bring my love back to me, but as always, my mind has gone blank with fear. For a moment I glance to the floor, idly noticing that the puddle forming around us is growing unusually large. Shouldn't I have realised if he was soaked to the bone? At least offered him a towel?
"I told you, I merely lost my focus…" My voice pleads for him to believe, "I took you for granted, but I'm not keeping anything from you, I swear!"
His grip on my arm tightens with startling harshness, and the deathly voice that speaks through my husband's lips terrifies me beyond rational thought; all I can do is stare in horror as his once hazel eyes fade to a blue so dark they are almost black, a perfect match for the raven hair and eerily pale complexion of the face now glowering down at me.
"…Liar."
Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I strive to escape his grasp, floor boards giving way beneath me, surrendering to the ever-growing pool of water's violent currents. The cold blue eyes watch without mercy as my body is ripped down into the murky depths, struggling desperately for air, ever fighting for the surface. The more I strive, the more the burning in my lungs threatens to overcome me, and I slowly begin to realise, with sickeningly simple logic, that 'this is it'.
I am going to die…
My mouth opens, the breath I've been holding for so long suddenly released as I accept my fate, allowing the freezing waters to invade me. Convinced of my end, my mind does not take kindly to reality's intervention, reeling as the sudden intake of air causes my head to split with pain and I roll blindly onto my back, trying to make sense of my blurred surroundings.
Little becomes clear, save a lingering awareness that if I had gone without oxygen a mere second longer, I would have passed out in my sleep. Further observation reveals that my feet now rest on the cushion of the armchair I have clearly tumbled from during the all-too-vivid nightmare, a cold sweat beading on my skin as I try to catch my breath.
…Just a dream.
Wiping the moisture from my forehead, I glance down the empty corridor in hesitation. I feel terrible and need to clean myself up, but don't particularly favour the idea of being immersed in water at this point in time. Maybe a shower would be easier to deal with than a bath?
Gingerly making my way down the hallway, my eyes glance fitfully from doors to walls - even as I rummage through drawers and cupboards for a change of clothes and a fresh towel, Yutaka's baseball bat is never far from reach. It is not until the warm, cleansing stream flows over my body, that I allow myself to feel a sense of normalcy.
By the time I step out from the soothing shower, I have convinced myself that the dream means nothing. The nightmare is just one of many others, holding no consequences in the waking world – it does not mean he knows how to find me.
It does not mean that I am going to die.
Towel-drying my hair, I reach out absentmindedly to turn off the sink's dripping tap, silencing the unsettling echo. As I turn to leave the bathroom, the tap begins to drip once more, and I wrench at the knob in frustration.
The sound does not even slow in pace.
Why won't it stop?!
Glaring at the silver contraption, I feel the colour slowly drain from my face, mesmerised by the trickle of scarlet droplets that stain the white porcelain of my basin. No one need tell me what the sickly liquid is, and I jerk away from the sight in disgust, a shadow flickering through my field of vision as I glance wildly around the empty room, eyes inevitably drawn to my mirror's disturbing reflection.
My once clean hands now drip with blood, and there is no face on earth that I recognise quite like that of the decomposing teenager now standing behind me. Clenching my eyes shut, I try to erase the horrifying images from my mind; somehow will them out of existence.
This can't be happening! This isn't happening!
My fingers tremble as I fumble blindly for the bat, too panicked to feel relief as I finally grasp the smooth handle. Clinging to chaos like a life-preserver, I lunge wildly at the mirror with the one, useless thing I have to protect myself. My phase of ludicrous charms and protection spells wore off long ago – I supposed they only helped if you had some kind of talent for it in the first place.
"Stay the hell away from me!" I scream at the piercing blue eyes, their gaze never leaving me even as their reflection shatters, now mere shards of glass clattering to the tiled floor. I have given up trying to calm my pounding heart, tears flowing silently down my cheeks in hopeless despair as the silence of the room is broken by a cool whisper against the nape of my neck.
"Return it…
Return what you stole."
-x-
Kazuo Hayashi glanced from his watch to the splayed bundle of paperwork he had been graced with almost two hours ago. It had already been a long day, and thanks to a co-worker's recent lapse in competence, it had quickly become even longer. On the bright side, he was close to finishing the horrendous fix-up job, and the misplaced files had been found before it was too late.
He paused midway through signing yet another document as his mobile, still set to silent, vibrated in his jacket pocket. Hurriedly finishing the required signature, Kazuo flipped open the buzzing device, wondering briefly at the unfamiliar number before answering.
"Hello?"
The unidentified caller did not respond at first, but he could hear faint voices in the background, along with what sounded like a woman panting for breath.
…Some sort of sick prank, perhaps?
He repeated his earlier greeting, intending to hang up if it failed to prompt some form of response.
"Ka-Kazuo? I – I need help…"
The man's eyebrows promptly shot up at the choked sound of his sister's voice, "Cho?! What's wrong?" He rushed, re-checking the number on the small glowing screen – it definitely didn't belong to her. Where was she?
"You're not hurt, are you?"
"…No." She replied after a pause, "N-not much, anyway – just a few scratches…"
Scratches?!
"Um, C-can I…" Cho continued, the panicked, broken edge to her voice never quite fading, "Can I s-stay at your place for a while?"
It simply wasn't like his sister to ask for help, she usually preferred to deal with things alone - that Cho was even admitting she needed help was cause enough for him to worry, whether their mother might see the change as a positive development or not. The answer to her plea was obvious, so Kazuo pressed on to more important details.
"Do you need me to pick you up? Where are you?"
"…A-at the neighbours…" She replied, a touch of surprise lacing her tone, "Maruyama-san helped me."
That cranky old woman?!
…And just what did she help you with, exactly?
He was dying to ask, but perhaps it was best to wait until she chose to confide in him – knowing Cho, she might refuse his help if he pressed her too hard. Gathering up the remains of the paper work, Kazuo pocketed his keys while heading for the door.
"I'll be there as soon as I can Cho, so just sit tight, okay?"
The drive seemed to take forever, Kazuo's agitation steadily increasing with the practically non-existent flow of the city traffic. He knew things had been hard for his sister, even before Yutaka had walked out – it hadn't exactly been a surprise, considering the couple's seeming inability to occupy the same room without inadvertently offending each other. After a while, Cho had begun to avoid her family, ashamed of the numerous arguments and awkward silences that never failed to dampen the once cheerful atmosphere.
What confused Kazuo was just what had changed their relationship so drastically – true, Cho had never found allowing others to get close to her particularly easy, but Yutaka had been different. She loved him. No matter what anyone said, he knew that much to be true.
When he finally arrived at the Maruyama's, the door opened to him immediately after the first knock.
Just how does the old woman move so quick, that's what I'd like to know.
She reminded him of his fourth grade teacher – the entire class had been convinced she was an alien of some kind, or maybe a robot with sensors that allowed her to know exactly what was going on and when. Needless to say, they hadn't gotten away with anything that year. Kazuo knew without a shadow of a doubt that if their teacher's name was mentioned to anyone who had been taught by her, even if it was only for one day as a relief teacher, recognition would be instantaneous.
"You must be the brother, then." Stated the overly stout, wrinkled woman; eyeing him suspiciously as he nodded in affirmation.
"I'm Kazuo Hayashi, yes."
"Your sister's in the lounge room," Maruyama informed him while handing him a suitcase, "Take this down while I go get her."
Thinking it wise not to question the old woman, he lugged the surprisingly heavy bag back to the car, vainly hoping Cho might prove more informative once they were alone. Maruyama gently guided his sister down the stairs, but not without a firm scowl that seemed etched into her face after years of growling at 'young whipper-snappers' who probably dared each other to run up and knock on the woman's door.
Perhaps that was why she was so quick to answer?
Lots of practise…
Hiding the inappropriately timed grin, Kazuo noticed the tended wounds on Cho's arms as she hesitated before climbing into the passenger seat, and against his better judgement, offered the old woman his thanks. She looked at him like he'd grown a second head, but seemed content with his response.
"You'd better keep an eye on her," Maruyama offered conspiratorially, "When I found her, the idiot was sitting hopelessly outside her front door, bleeding – refused to even step foot inside her own house – I ended up packing her bags and everything! The neighbours say she's finally lost the plot, and after seeing the broken mirror in her bathroom, I can see why."
-x-
Mai had been unusually quiet since Naru had begun preparing to leave for Tochigi, staring out of the window as she played absentmindedly with the no-doubt lukewarm mug in her hands. Her most recent lapse in concentration had lasted significantly longer than the last; the preoccupied teen's splutters hardly surprising the Chinese mage as she unceremoniously spat a stone-cold mouthful of tea back into her cup.
"Want to talk about it?" He offered, a touch of amusement momentarily overriding his concern. The auburn-haired girl grimaced up at him in response.
"I'm that obvious, huh?"
Thankfully, he doubted she'd expected a reply – it was funny how women could often get as irritated with you for agreeing with them as they might with your arguing. While Mai seemed far less likely to take offence than most of the women he had encountered, there were times it was still better to be safe than sorry.
"Lin, what if Naru could claim he was checking out the area for business purposes, rather than personal?" She mused, "It might be seen as convenient, but he'd at least have a cover story, right?"
Lin mulled over the idea's potential for a moment, eventually shaking his head.
"Actually, I think it may be better if he doesn't."
Mai quickly glanced up at him, cinnamon eyes betraying a mixture of shock and confusion, yet Lin could practically see her rationalise her thoughts, silently accepting his judgement.
"Naru will probably be suspected either way, but hiding our intentions could easily backfire." He explained, if for no other reason than to confirm that her trust in him was warranted, "If the Police can't make a significant case against him, there won't be any point in taking it to court – but if they had reason to believe that we felt the need to disguise our actions…"
"…We'd only be making a case against ourselves." Mai finished for him, almost wishing she didn't understand. There was something else she'd realised in the process, and the young woman didn't like it one bit.
"Naru…" She whispered, heart constricting in a confusing medley of loneliness and anxiety, "He's known this all along, hasn't he?"
Lin paused, glancing back over his shoulder at her quiet revelation before disappearing out into the corridor with an audible sigh.
"…Probably."
-x-
She hadn't slept at all last night, Kazuo was sure of it. For someone who tended to make the most of every opportunity she had to sleep in, his sister was simply far too alert, and the darkening bags under her eyes were a dead give away. To say she was agitated could easily be considered the understatement of the year, yet she still hadn't uttered a word of what had caused her to seek his help in the first place.
The concerned older brother's eyes darted once more to the abrasions on her arms, thinking of the mirror Maruyama had mentioned. Had someone tried to attack her? Maybe rob her? No one had brought up the state of the rest of Cho's apartment, or of phoning the police, but then again, no one had said an awful lot about anything.
Could she have simply snapped under the pressure of the last few months, maybe even years, and destroyed it herself? Though if that were the case, why would she be afraid to go back inside?
...She isn't going crazy, is she?
He supposed people had lost their minds over less, but preferred not to dwell on the notion. Crazy or not, she was his blood, and he would find a way to help her.
"Cho…" He began, his intense gaze securing her attention, "Why did you phone me? Just what happened yesterday?"
She froze at the inquiry, turning for a moment to offer him a broken smile.
"I'm…not really sure," Cho admitted, buying time with a pebble of truth as she debated what she could, and could not tell him, "Just too many memories, I guess. I couldn't stand it any more – I fell asleep on the couch, dreaming about him -" She choked out, disguising the terror she felt at the haunting memory as grief for her broken marriage.
Kazuo wrapped his arms around her before she could attempt to continue, regretting the confrontation as he smoothed his sister's ruffled hair and soothed, "Shhh…It's okay, I never meant to upset you…"
He had no way of knowing that the true reason for the relief now spreading throughout her features had little to do with the comforting shoulder he offered, and everything to do with her successful manipulation.
The best lies are always based on truth.
-x-
Omake:
Mai had been unusually quiet, staring out of the window as she played absentmindedly with the no-doubt lukewarm mug in her hands. Her most recent lapse in concentration had lasted significantly longer than the last; the preoccupied teen's splutters hardly surprising the Chinese mage as she unceremoniously spat a stone-cold mouthful of tea back into her cup.
"Want to talk about it?" He offered, a touch of amusement momentarily overriding his concern. Lost in thought, the girl did not answer immediately, silence hanging thickly in the air as he waited for some kind of response.
"Why 'Noll'?" She mused, in a way that caused Lin to debate whether or not she was even aware of his presence. Her voice, barely above a whisper, could easily be directed at herself rather than a conscious answer to his earlier proposal.
"No offence, but the nickname sounds, well…" Mai persisted before gazing intently at the floor, possibly searching for a word, or trying to decide if it was a good idea to continue. It seemed that the auburn-haired girl's strange reply had been directed at him, after all.
"Well, like the kind of name kids usually make up in order to tease someone they dislike..."
Lin almost laughed when he saw the expression Mai pulled as she concluded the sentence, clearly in the process of realising that she may have just answered her own question. The part-timer didn't stop there however; a presumably long held-back rant bursting forth from her lips, as if the words might explode if she tried to hold them within her chest a minute longer.
"How on earth did anyone manage to get 'Noll' from 'Oliver'? About the only similarity between the two words is that they both contain an 'o' and an 'l'! What is he, a reincarnation of the 'second gunman'?!"
Lin watched in odd fascination as the teen's animated face began to flush at her outburst, inwardly chuckling as he managed to recognise her obscure reference to a popular theory surrounding J.F.K.'s untimely demise.
"'Noll' isn't short for 'Oliver'," The tall, dark man corrected simply, features stoic even as Mai's face scrunched up in confusion, "It's short for 'know it all'."