Chapter 6

It was quiet and dark when Oliver returned to the office. The rest of the team had left for the day, with the possible exception of Lin—the door to his office was closed and the light was off, which may seem like a probable indication the other man had left, but Oliver knew it wasn't a certainty. He didn't keep track of Lin's schedule and the other man had a propensity for unusual work hours and habits.

He turned on the kettle in the kitchenette first and then retreated to his own office. Oliver let out a sigh as he closed the door behind him, hand reaching up and loosening the tie that had felt too-tight all day. He normally didn't wear ties, but he'd taken a donor out for an early lunch and for some reason the tie yielded an approximate 75% increase in donations. It was so tiresome, these meetings. Always at some posh restaurant or café, the same small talk and pleasantries, forcing himself to smile and laugh at their jokes, allowing the women to sometimes flirt with him. Trying to show their latest finds to people who weren't all that good at listening. It was exhausting.

And if that hadn't been enough, he'd gone to Cambridge and visited his father in the afternoon. This wasn't a bad thing in itself, but it always unnerved him how many people at Cambridge knew and recognised him. There were the professors: either Martin's colleagues he'd met in passing or those whose classes he had attended himself, now over a decade ago. He didn't mind being greeted by the professors or being stopped and invited into an office or passed along some grad student's paper they wanted him to read.

It was the students whose attention he disliked. Of course there was Martin's extracurricular parapsychology group, the students who had come to BSPR to either watch or participate or occasionally—very occasionally—undergo testing of some kind or another. There were the fans and the sceptics, those who came up to tell him they'd seen the ghost of their grandmother or chased after him so that they could call him out on something or other. And there were those who knew him because Martin was their advisor and had seen the family photos on the wall during Martin's office hours. And then there were those who had merely taken one of Martin's classes and had somehow, somewhere, heard a whisper of who he was. These were always the students who would whisper to their friends as he passed. Who is that?

You don't know? He's Professor Davis' son.

What, really? The psychic?

No, it's the other one. The one who—

No way, I heard he died—

And even the students who didn't know him, the students who didn't have anything to whisper about, they would always stare.

He sat down at his desk and his computer screen flickered to light with a tap of his finger. The most irritating thing about the day was that he'd been entirely busy but didn't feel like he'd actually gotten anything done. That, he admitted to himself, and that he had wanted to call Mai in the afternoon and hadn't had a chance. He'd emailed her the data from their last case, as promised, that very morning. Mai had written back straight away. I'll sit down and have a good look tonight. Any chance you're free to chat?

He hated that he had to turn her down. Sorry. I'm meeting one of our donors and then I have to catch a train to Cambridge. How about tomorrow?

Don't worry, tomorrow's fine. Hope it goes well with the donor! Good luck!

He actioned some of the emails in his inbox, sending a reply to some questions on the Witham case to Madoka (had she actually read his report?), approving some accounts Lin had prepared and forwarding the thank you note received from a client on to the rest of the team. Luce had put in a month's notice for two days' leave, which he approved, and Hamish had emailed him following yesterday's staff debriefing. To this he drafted a reply but did not send. He'd talk to Lin about it first. There was a small amount of tension between Hamish and Katya, which Oliver saw as a manifestation of Hamish's insecurities that Katya was clearly the most competent of the team, despite being their newest hire, while Hamish had been with him the longest. Oliver recognised he wasn't always the best at dealing with staffing matters—depending on what Lin thought it might even be worth a phone call to Madoka, who knew Hamish well.

Standing up, Oliver stretched and remembered his earlier intention for a cup of tea, so he left his office for the kitchenette. Luce must have done the shopping, because there was only Lady Grey—her favourite—and an old box of PG Tips in the cupboard. While the kettle heated again, Oliver went to his office to retrieve his personal stash of roasted houjicha green tea. Mai had once mentioned how she preferred this tea in the evening, and once he'd picked it up at the Japanese grocery on Salisbury the tea had become part of his own routine.

Oliver had just returned to his desk when his phone rang, and he hurried to pick up his mobile where he'd left it next to his laptop. He frowned as he answered, puzzled she would be calling him. "Hello?" He answered in Japanese.

"Hi there." Mai sounded sheepish. "How are you? Do you have a minute?"

Oliver glanced at his watch. It was already nearly seven. "Isn't it three o'clock in the morning there?"

"Sorry." She giggled nervously. "I couldn't sleep. Are you still at work?"

He sat down at his desk, holding the phone in one hand and his cup in the other. "I am, but it's after hours, so I'm free to talk."

"How'd it go today?"

"Not.. that bad," he said, searching for words. "Considering."

"Considering?"

"The donor in question."

"Did you wear a tie?" She teased. "Which one?"

He looked at the article, now discarded and hanging over the back of a chair. "Green."

"Naru," she protested, dragging out the syllables of his nickname as pronounced the Japanese way. "You should have worn the blue one! You said you get the highest contributions when you wear your blue tie."

"I get the highest contributions when I wear a tie, full stop." he corrected, though his lips had curled upwards in a smile. "The data on the colour of the tie is pretty inconclusive."

"So you say. But wear a blue tie with this old woman next time and I bet she'll give you more."

"I never said it was an old woman," he pointed out, though he felt somewhat pleased that she'd picked up on that fact without him even having said so. Was it her intuition, did she really know him that well?

"In so many words." Mai laughed. "And you had to go to Cambridge, too? Isn't that a long trip?"

"Just—about an hour and a half by train. I'm usually able to work through the commute. It's not that I dislike going to Cambridge, but…" But what? He didn't want to say 'I hate it when they stare at me' because it sounded lame and immature, and people stared at him everywhere—just not quite so openly as they did at the university. Not to mention he'd never said anything to Mai about his appearance. It seemed too arrogant, even if it was a fact. He knew he was perceived as handsome, knew there was something about his appearance that generally had persons of either sex doing double takes or approaching him and trying to start a conversation when he was clearly busy doing something else.

Gene experienced the same thing when he was England, probably even more so, which was why he often took to wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses when he went out. But Oliver hated wearing caps, and why wear sunglasses on a cloudy day? Gene had often said it was a good enough reason to live in Japan, as people were never quite as blatant there and the societal pressure to be polite was that much higher. "When you visit, you'll understand," his twin had promised. "You'll never want to go back to dreary old London again."

"It was… tiresome, that's all." Oliver finally finished.

"I get what you mean. It just interrupts your work, right?" Mai sighed. "I had kind of a rough day today too, actually. It was a bad day at the office."

"Clients?"

"Basically. Sometimes it really bums me out to see the situation people are in. And people get rude when they're under a lot of stress, the stress of going to court, of being involved in legal proceedings."

"You give them too much credit," Oliver said, frowning. Mai wasn't usually very forthcoming about her work, maintaining professional discretion even with a friend located halfway across the world. She didn't let on very often, but he knew she dealt with difficult clients on a day-to-day basis, sometimes even being on the receiving end of what he would consider verbal abuse. Even his clients were like that to an extent, and he could only imagine it would be just as bad or worse in a legal office. "People should be courteous, no matter the circumstances."

"Maybe. I think everyone's like that to some extent, though." She sighed. "And I get overwhelmed, sometimes. With the amount of work that's expected of me. I can do it," shesaid, a hint of pride in her voice. "It's not that I can't do the work. It's just that you can only do one thing at a time. Sometimes it's impossible to do the amount of work in the time that's required. One person can only do so much." Mai laughed lightly. "Funny, I was lying awake thinking about it, but I feel so much better having just said that."

"I'm glad I can be of assistance." Oliver realised the words probably sounded sarcastic, but he meant it sincerely. "Sometimes it's better to articulate things out loud rather than keeping it to yourself." He wasn't sure he would ever take this advice himself, but if nothing else being Gene's twin had taught him that sometimes all he needed to do was listen.

"Yeah. I guess now that that's off my chest I can think about more important things."

"Such as…?"

"Your visit, of course! I'm super excited to meet you in person." As she said this, Oliver felt his mouth go dry, but she kept talking. "I understand you have other stuff you need to do, but I'll be free outside of work hours. Just—just let me know." Her voice wavered a little bit, and for a moment Oliver wondered if she was as nervous as he was. "It was probably presumptuous of me to ask if I could come to Mount Koya and Nara with you, you probably wanted to go with your brother, I guess I just got excited when I thought about showing you around—"

"No," he interrupted. "I—would really like it if you could show me around, actually. If—if you're free, I'd like you to come with me."

"Really?" He could hear the smile growing on her face. "Well, then… yes, I'd love to. You can count on me." She made a happy, humming sound. "I meant what I said about asking my friend, if we could stay with his family at Mount Koya. Are you okay with that?"

"Yeah, that'd be fine."

"Oh, good." She let out another relieved laugh. "Because I'm not sure we could find accommodation a month out, anyway. I was kind of worried about that, actually."

"What about Nara?"

"Nara should be okay. It'll be busy but there will be something." She paused, seeming distracted by something. "Maybe… you let me know what days you'll be free to go to Mount Koya and Nara? Once you do I can request a couple days off work."

Oliver thought for a moment before responding, wondering if he should even try to iron down his plans with Gene and Madoka at SPR when he knew they would be starting their next case imminently. Then he decided it could wait.

"I'll let you know by tomorrow." He cleared his throat, hesitating about what he was going to say next. "If you don't mind, perhaps I could arrange for a lunch or dinner at a time my brother could tag along. The two of you would likely get along and I'm sure he'd like to meet you. Actually, he'd be devastated if he didn't."

Mai laughed, a gentle, almost musical sound. "Of course I don't mind! Anything you want. You talk about him a lot so I know you must be close. Is he a lot like you?"

Oliver let out a short, sharp laugh at the thought. "No. Completely different."

"Really? Is there much of an age difference between you? You've probably said before and I've forgotten like a dope. Are you younger or older than him?"

"It's a negligible age difference because we're twins."

"What? Okay, I would have remembered that. You never told me you were twins!"

"I wasn't hiding it, I just didn't realise it was pertinent."

"Well… you're right, I suppose it isn't, is it. It doesn't actually change anything about who you are."

He couldn't help himself from laughing out loud. This time, it was a relaxed, soft laugh. It was so like her, and so different from everyone else. Everyone saw his identity as dependent upon his brother. When they were children and now as adults, he had been, always would be Gene's twin. Even he himself couldn't think of himself as his own individual person, try as he might. Everything about him was always in comparison to Gene. Gene, who had always been the favourable twin. Bright when he was dark. Even when their looks had been the same they'd never truly been identical.

She was right, of course, but he understood the paradox in her statement. No, it did not change anything about him. And yet it had influenced every aspect of his life. He shook his head to himself, still chuckling. Perhaps Mai could only see him for himself because she'd never met his brother. So what was he doing, intending to introduce them? And yet, there was no way around it. It was inevitable.

"What's funny?"

"Nothing, I'm just.." he paused, searching for the right word. He didn't know if he could explain it, in Japanese or English. It wasn't right but it would have to do. "Relieved. That's all."

"I don't understand." She said honestly, then hummed. "But I'm glad. I'm really looking forward to meeting you in person, Naru."

"Me too." He traced his finger around the handle of his cup, now empty but for the lump of the teabag in the bottom. "I'm really looking forward to meeting you too, Mai."

…

Lin opened the door to the office quietly. He had seen the light from the street in Oliver's office and did not want to disturb him, knowing the other man preferred working in the uninterrupted silence of the after-hours.

It had been a long day. He had spent most of it travelling to an aged care centre in Brighton, paying a visit to an elderly man accompanied by his daughter and one of the resident nurses. While Oliver usually thought house visits out of town were a waste of time, Lin thought he would be pleased to read his report on the interview, and may even want to pay the man a visit himself. The man's daughter and most of his carers thought the man had dementia, but the young personal care assistant had recognised the signs of possession and contacted BSPR.

The man was ninety three, could not walk without assistance and had looked as brittle and frail as a baby bird. It was perhaps one of the most bizarre conversations Lin had ever held. In hindsight, he should have asked to record the conversation so that he could have made an accurate transcript of what was said. After the daughter introduced him and polite greetings were exchanged and pleasantries about the weather, the man's demeanour and countenance suddenly changed and the introductions were repeated—as if he hadn't recalled what had happened only five minutes prior. After this round of pleasantries about the weather and complaints about the quality of meals, it happened again. The man was a medium but no longer had any control over when the spirits took control of his body, and at times the spirits were obviously competing amongst themselves for possession.

At least three different spirits seemed to step in and out of the man like a revolving door. One moment he was himself, the next he was someone else. Two of the spirits were previous residents of the centre, both having passed in the previous year. These spirits were eager to tell—albeit very different—stories of their past. Stories of surviving London during the bombings; stories of emigrating from Kolkata during the early Thatcher years. They complained about how their children and grandchildren no longer visited them in the home. They recognised the man's daughter, but did not see her as family. The third spirit was not one the carers had been able to identify. She did not recognise anyone in the facility and grew extremely agitated to find herself there. She would not tell the good-natured stories of her past the way the other spirits did.

Lin could not ascertain if the man's daughter was relieved to know it was possession, not dementia. In the end, did it matter? His mind was no longer that of her father. They would be able to cleanse the first two spirits quite easily. The third would perhaps be a bit more difficult, but they could do it. But would they be able to stop it from happening again?

Lin rubbed the bridge of his nose, unable to keep the thought from rising up, unwelcome as it was. Would Gene end up like that someday, he wondered. Preternatural abilities were that much more common in adolescents; it was rare for adults to retain these abilities as they grew older. To his knowledge, the man in Brighton would be the first time something like this had been documented. Was it the inevitable fate of a medium, or was there something about this man which made him particularly susceptible?

Lin shook his head to himself. There was no point thinking such things. Perhaps in the next few decades they would know more, would be able to study mediums who were already middle-aged. Perhaps Gene would end up like that. Perhaps he wouldn't. It was still fifty or sixty years away.

Lin rose to his feet. A cup of rooibos would be in order before he typed up his notes.

He stopped as he crossed the main office on his way to the kitchenette, hearing the sound of Oliver's voice just audible through the closed door of his private office. He was on the phone. A client? He wondered. No, even Oliver did not take calls from clients this late in the evening, and he could hear the relaxed timbre of his voice. Family, then: Gene, perhaps, or Luella.

Lin cocked his head. Something about the sound of the conversation wasn't right—until he realised Oliver wasn't speaking in English. Once he identified it, the distinctive rhythm and intonation of Japanese speech became obvious. This was most unusual.

Then he heard the distinct sound of a laugh. Coming from Oliver, it was a soft, light chuckle—almost undetectable through the door. But it was there.

Lin couldn't believe his ears. Who on earth could Oliver be so relaxed with outside his own family? Who could make him laugh? Who he spoke with in Japanese over English?

Lin shook his head to himself. It was not his business, but there was something comforting about the fact that there was something he did not know about Oliver's private life. That he had a private life, despite Gene's, Luella's, and Madoka's insistence he did not. That Oliver had proved them all wrong, yet again.

A smile twitched on his lips as he returned to his own office, closing the door silently behind him. If he were a different man, he would contact Gene or Luella, even Madoka. Reassure them that their worries were unfounded. The shell they were all so concerned Oliver had retreated into, the barriers he had always constructed around himself and had done nothing but reinforce, ever since that time—there was at least one gap where an outsider had been able to get inside. Or perhaps Oliver himself had created the opening.

But he was not that kind of man. Oliver's secret—whatever, whoever it was—was safe with him. And he was proud to be the one to hold Oliver's confidence.

Lin sat down at his computer and slipped his headphones over his ears. Sipping his tea, he resumed his playlist and Debussy's Sunken Cathedral began to play.

He had been at work for some time when his phone vibrated twice in his pocket, indicating receipt of a text message. It would have to be family, meaning it was most likely his mother. It couldn't be anyone else: Gene would text him, but only when he was in the country, and Oliver would only text him during cases for non-urgent matters. And it would be his mother, as his father was more the type to call and demand you drop everything so that you could have a conversation.

Lin pulled out the offending item, reading the text from, indeed, his mother: requesting if he could come to his father's offices Friday afternoon. They were meeting the Hsieh family of the Hsieh Steel Corporation and she was hoping he would be available to join them for dinner afterwards. It was a minor business deal, but it would be good to show a what a strong family unit they were. And, his mother added, the daughter of the family was just a little younger than him, very becoming, and reportedly still single.

Unwritten in the message was how his father would have to explain to the Hsieh family that his only son, the son who held a business degree from a prestigious university, who had graduated magna cum laude at the top of his class, had left his father's corporation five years ago to pursue his previously part-time hobby of electronics at a small research firm. There would be no mention of the influence of his maternal grandmother, who had taught him the art of qigong along with so many other things that should have remained buried in the past. He would not mention what else his son did at the research firm nor what kind of firm it was.

Lin sighed and returned the mobile to his pocket. There was already enough going on without his own family dramas. It would be better if it stayed that way.

…

It had been another euphoric day. When Mai woke up that morning, phone still in her hand, she felt so light despite not getting enough sleep the night before. She had a vague memory of Naru telling her he was going to say goodnight so she could get some sleep. I hope your day today is much better than yesterday.

She'd dreamed of him, of meeting him in Tokyo. She'd opened the door and there he was, he didn't have to introduce himself for her to know it was him. Even though it was absurd, it made sense to her in the dream when he'd held up his hands, cupped into the shape of a heart. She'd done the same and they had touched the two shapes together, fingers just barely touching. Look, he'd said. Our hearts are the same size.

It was absolutely ridiculous. But it made her happy all the same.

As if he'd predicted it, it had been a much better day at work. Not only was Mai able to plough through her mountain of work uninterrupted, but Misato the office manager had been in a good mood as well and treated all the staff to a box of macarons. A little sugar always raised the spirits in the firm, bringing everyone out of their respective offices even if only five minutes for a chance to socialise over a cup of tea and to escape the stresses of their day. It was times like this that Mai was grateful for some of the English traditions of her firm: she had a feeling not many other office workers in Tokyo had a morning and an afternoon tea break.

Naru had emailed his dates for a proposed visit to Nara and Mount Koya in the morning and Mai had promptly put in her request for leave that afternoon. In the end, she decided to take one additional day: she had the time, after all, and she had a feeling that something would undoubtedly come up the day before their trip that she would need to take care of. Mai hadn't even realised it until Hiromi mentioned it as she handed in her form, but she hadn't taken any leave since her onsen hot spring trip with Keiko the year before—last January to be exact, so it had been almost a year.

"You need a break, Mai." Hiromi had said warmly. "I know you think Gill will fall apart without you here, but don't be afraid to take time off for yourself every once in a while to recharge. Shiho will help with the urgent stuff, even Pat can help out in an emergency. Remember you're no good to him burned out, okay? We support work-life balance here."

Mai had said yes, she understood, she would keep it in mind—but as she left the HR Manager's office she thought not only did she not understand, but Hiromi didn't understand, either.

"Work-life balance," Mai murmured to herself, pausing in her typing as she watched the clock on her computer tick over from 5:00 to 5:01. Even though her working day was over, Mai knew she would feel much less stressed if she worked the extra half hour to an hour, as she did nearly every night. It was for her own well-being and sleep that she worked after-hours without pay. Hiromi couldn't understand, not really: while the HR manager certainly had plenty of work to do, none of it was as deadline driven as the rest of the firm. Hiromi didn't have court dates to worry about nor the thought of parents losing custody of their children or massive sums of money that might be on the line if the secretaries didn't get the lawyers' work done on time. Mai frowned, remembering the distinct lack of work coming from Gill today relating to the Ikeda matter. Their client had come in that afternoon and she'd been expecting some work as they prepared for the court date. Had she missed it? Or, more likely, had he not done it yet?

Mai took her empty teacup from her desk as she stood and took the long way to the kitchen, pausing at Gill's open door. He was leaning back in his chair, glasses low on his nose as he studied a piece of paper. He looked up and she held up her cup in pantomime. "Need a cuppa?"

Gill smiled and motioned her inside, taking his cup and passing it to her. "You know me too well. Thank you."

"And a biscuit? There might even be some macarons left."

"I shouldn't—but yes please. Oh, those macarons—just to die for." Gill laughed, taking off his glasses and setting down the paper. "Couldn't refuse even if I was serious about this diet."

"How's Ikeda coming along?"

"Just finishing some revisions to the affidavit now. It'll be there waiting for you tomorrow morning." He glanced above her at the analogue clock on the wall. "I hope you're not working much longer? It's after five, you know."

Mai smiled. It was always the same—him telling her it was time to go home and not work late, and yet then coming in with one last request: Could you just…? or I know it's late, it'll only take a second— Do me a favour? "Your cuppa and then I'll be on my way," she promised.

Five minutes later she was back in front of his desk, passing him his steaming cup and a plate with a chocolate macaron. "If there's any left, take them home," Gill said, smiling his thanks as he took a sip of the tea. "It'll prevent me from doing the same. And heaven knows you deserve a little extra reward for your hard work. You plough through more work than any of the others here."

Mai felt a small rush of pride at his acknowledgement. "Thank you."

"Thank you. There are times I don't know how I ever got along without you." Gill smiled and took the macaron with one hand, and passed her a sheet of paper with the other. "Have a look at this. Just came in ten minutes ago."

Mai took the paper, a pit forming in her stomach as she saw it was a letter for the Davis matter. "Don't tell me they're already chasing us for his disclosure."

"Oh no, not yet," Gill leaned back in his seat and took sip of his tea, waiting as she scanned the paper.

Mai frowned as she reached the end of the letter. "Don't they usually wait for disclosure to be produced before they state their position? If they're going to ask for it in the first place, anyway."

Gill nodded thoughtfully. "Indeed. I would almost think Beck is getting sloppy. Even if their client insisted, they should have waited to send this letter. He did say she was impatient, so it's definitely possible their client pushed the matter." Gill shook his head and gestured toward the letter. "But even then, this is very unlike Beck. Very unlike Robert Jones if you ask me."

"Did you speak with the client?"

"No, haven't gotten a hold of him yet. He did say he'd be travelling for his work. " Gill paused, setting his cup down on the desk as he pivoted the subject. "What a peculiar line of work. Although, I suppose it's only peculiar in that I've never met a psychic researcher before. Otherwise it might seem very ordinary." He glanced up at her. "Do you believe in that sort of thing?"

Mai shrugged. "There are a lot of things in this world which lack a good explanation. Whether you say it's supernatural…" her voice trailed off and she shrugged again.

Gill smiled broadly. "Couldn't agree more. Aiko would say it's just a waste of effort, but there is plenty of research within so-called legitimate sciences which are a waste of effort if you ask me. And if their work brings people some measure of solace, who am I to judge? And after all, we understand so little about the world." He picked up the letter again and shook his head. "Sometimes I don't think we understand any of it."

…

Takigawa Houshou stood in the narrow street, sizing up the house and the surrounding area. Madoka and John had already gone inside, but he'd lingered outside, as he always did at the beginning of a case.

Nothing about the house was out of the ordinary – it wasn't particularly old, or a new build; nor was it more run-down or posh than any of the other houses around it, at least what he could see of them. The laneway was only wide enough for one vehicle to pass through, lined with decorative cement block walls and a tall hedge which provided privacy to the homes. The front of the house had a typical open area and trimmed hedges, and the car Madoka had rented was the only vehicle parked in the drive. There was a rusted corrugated metal shed behind the house and a vacant, undeveloped lot across which he could see the dark silhouette of mountains which rose south of the city under the darkening sky.

"Doesn't look like much, does it?"

Takigawa turned, raising a hand in greeting as Gene stepped out of the house and crossed the open area toward him. Their assistant manager had already been on site for a day, setting up their base and the necessary equipment. Takigawa was grateful to be spared the task, although he much preferred setting up the equipment over packing up. Disassembling the equipment was always his least favourite part of their job.

"From the outside, you'd never think this place would have an angry spirit roaming its halls."

Gene smiled thinly. "No, you wouldn't."

Takigawa eyed the other man at his response, wondering if he should ask outright. If Gene had been on site for the day, he might have an idea what they would be up against, might be able to give an indication of how long they'd be there or if the client's claims had any truth to them.

But if Gene hadn't brought it up yet, he didn't want to press the issue. Takigawa respected the other man, trusted his judgement, and admired him deeply. Madoka ran SPR with an iron fist and in comparison one might think Gene as soft, lackadaisical or even full-on lazy. But he'd quickly realised that Gene was just as dedicated to the work. While he'd never seen Gene reading the case materials, Takigawa knew he put just as much research into the cases beforehand as Madoka, was always just as prepared. And his quick thinking had gotten them out of a bind or two, or three or four. Once he'd discovered he was related to Oliver Davis, it all seemed to make sense. Genius and preternatural abilities must run in the family.

"Is the client here now?" Takigawa asked instead, the two walking toward the house.

Gene shook his head. "I recommended he take his family to stay with his parents, since they live nearby. He'll be back in the morning."

"That's right, they have young children, don't they?"

Gene nodded, sliding open the front door. "Three. All under the age of ten."

"It'll set their mind at ease. And at least we don't have to worry about tripping over them."

Gene nodded again with that same thin smile and Takigawa followed him inside. They took off their shoes in the entryway and Gene led the way down the hall, past two dimly lit rooms and into the brightly lit third. This room was buzzing with bright lights and the hum of electronics, a folding table set up with laptops and a tangle of cords.

"Rooms are upstairs," Gene said, easing himself into a chair. "John and Madoka must be up there now."

"No rush." Takigawa set his overnight bag down out of the way and bent to look at the displays on the laptops. "Woah, don't tell me you set up all the cameras already?"

"More or less." Gene gave a yawn and stretched his hands behind his head. "Didn't have much else to do all day."

"A hell of a job to do on your own."

Gene grinned then, a lightness reaching his eyes. "Not too bad when you can enlist the client for some extra manpower. I lucked out that he's a bit of an electronics fanatic. Quite keen to see what we're up to and to help out."

"Lucky indeed." Takigawa glanced around, noticing the paper wards adhered to the four walls of the room. No doubt their rooms upstairs would be the same. "Hope your stash of wards hasn't run out yet? Remind me to draw up some more if you're getting low."

Gene waved a hand. "Plenty for now. Don't worry, I'll let you know."

"Right," Madoka announced herself as she entered the room, John a few paces behind her. "How are we all feeling? Our client has generously left food in the kitchen and Gene was kind enough to time the rice for our arrival. Do we want to eat some dinner? Or wait until after a briefing?"

"I'm happy to hold the briefing during our meal, but I'd like to know if Matsuzaki will be joining us?" Gene asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Didn't Chiaki text you?" Madoka frowned. "Ayako will arrive either tomorrow morning or in the afternoon. She promised she'll be here as soon as she's able."

Gene nodded. "That's fine. No worries."

Takigawa turned, considering the other man. "Any particular reason you ask?"

Gene shrugged in his chair. "You won't have seen it from the front, but there are some massive trees at the back of the lot. Just trying to gauge what resources we might have available to us, should we need it."

"Good to know." Madoka nodded. "Alright, I'm starving so let's take this to the kitchen and see what we can scrounge up."

"I'll keep an eye on the monitors if you want," John offered.

"Cheers mate."

"Would be nice if we could get an app on our phone that would feed the live data when we step away from the base like this." Madoka said, leading the three further down the hall away from the entrance. The kitchen was the last room, after what looked like a laundry and a closet. Madoka switched on the light and grinned as she searched the room, finally turning and waving to the camera when she found it set up in the corner. "Don't worry John, we'll bring the food to base."

"You secure some funding and I'm sure I could find someone who could design an app like that for us," Gene said with a grin, checking the oven. There was a tray of food under the broiler and Takigawa's mouth began to water at the promise of hot food. "But are you sure you'd really like that? You know you'll just have Noll watching and backseat driving the case."

"Ugh," Madoka shuddered. "Actually, yes, we'll just stick with what we've got, thanks."

"Hard to imagine Oliver Davis being a backseat driver," Takigawa laughed, checking a few cupboards and drawers before he'd procured plates, bowls and chopsticks.

"It's exactly what he's like," Gene said seriously, taking an oven mitt sliding out the tray from the broiler. "At least when it comes to work. Maybe not actual driving."

"Thanks for the hot food. What's for dinner anyway?"

"It's not much – hope you're happy with croquettes and mackerel. Oh, and there's salad in the fridge too."

"Sounds great."

Takigawa's mobile vibrated and he fished it out of his back pocket. The screen blinked to life, showing a new message. It was Mai – he'd met her through Ayako years ago, even before he and Ayako started working together at SPR. They'd become close over the years. Mai was one of the kindest, most generous person he'd ever met. The kind of person anyone couldn't help but love. She was like the little sister he'd never had.

It's been a while, how you been? I got a favour to ask you~ my friend and I are going to Mt Koya over New Years, any tips on where to stay? Would it be too much of an imposition to pay a visit to your family?

Takigawa smiled to himself as he keyed back a reply.

Young lady, you know my parents would love to have you and any friends you might bring along, you must stay with us! Never an imposition.

She responded with a grin and a thumbs up. I can't wait! By the way, will I see you at Ayako's Christmas party or do we need to meet up for coffee? It's been ages!

I'll be there, but if you're offering coffee… ;) ;) ;) Next week Saturday? We're on a case right now, won't be back by this weekend.

Sorry! I should let you go if you're at work. Next week then.

Takigawa slipped his phone back into his pocket and turned his attention back to Madoka and Gene, who were getting the last of their dinner ready.

"Sorry. Anything I can do to help?"

"Think we're just about ready," Madoka said, balancing bowls and plates in one hand and the salad in the other. "If you could bring the pot of rice, we'll serve it up in the base. Gene, you have serving utensils?"

"All good."

"Smells fantastic," John said, eyes lighting up as they returned to base, quickly hopping up and clearing away some space on the other table.

"I'm not so sure about fantastic…" Gene said dryly.

"Hush, we're hungry and it's hot food." Madoka said, lifting the lid and spooning rice into a bowl no sooner than Takigawa had set it down.

Even though Gene had said they'd hold the briefing during dinner, the four were all hungry and therefore silent while they ate, glancing out of habit at the monitors. Takigawa was filling his bowl for a second helping of rice and another piece of mackerel when Madoka cleared her throat.

"Alright, let's run through this briefing and get on with it, shall we? Gene, would you like to lay out the situation?"

"Situation is: our client purchased the house approximately fifteen years ago and has been in residence since then, joined by his wife and started his family—currently the couple and their three children live here, two daughters and a son. The children are still quite young, the eldest being eight or nine and the youngest I believe is three." Madoka nodded her confirmation at this and Gene continued.

"Our services have been requested due to some unexplainable events which have begun in the past three months. What started as minor, bizarre occurrences—" Gene waved his hand ambiguously. "Doors closed or locked when they shouldn't be, items showing up in places the couple believes to be simply impossible. It has escalated in that the events have increased in frequency and severity, no longer simply inconvenient or annoying but actually posing danger to the family."

"Dangerous in what way?" John asked softly.

"In the items being misplaced, for one. It started with simple trip hazards, but more recently Satomi found a kitchen knife in the youngest child's bed, not once but several times, and even after she started locking the drawer. And doors have slammed while those passing through are still in the threshold. So far, they've only sustained bruising." He nodded to the door, which only then Takigawa noticed was propped open with a crate of books. "With the exception of the toilet and the front door, you'll find all the doors are like this. From what we've been told, it may not stop the door from closing on you but should give you a second more to react."

Takigawa set down his empty bowl, waiting for Gene to continue. Something told him that wasn't the extent of their case here. "But wait, there's more?"

Gene nodded. "Within the last month, all three children have reportedly seen the figure of an old woman, and always in the same circumstances—standing at the top of the stairs to see her figure at the bottom landing."

Takigawa frowned. "What else do they say about this figure? What is she doing?"

"She just looks at them, as far as we've been told. Makes eye contact and stares until they run away. Of course, whenever they've brought a parent to the stairs she's disappeared."

"Do the parents believe them?" John asked.

Gene tipped his head. "Difficult to tell, to be honest. Satomi is obviously very freaked out by all of this, she jumped at the chance when I said they should spend the rest of the week with Umino's parents. Umino—who actually engaged us—" He paused, considering his words. "He takes it seriously, so it's not exactly disbelief. I think it's more so he would rather not consider what it means if it were to be true."

Madoka sighed. "They've spent years building a life for themselves and a home for their children here. I would be terrified of seeing all my hard work slip through my fingers."

Gene nodded sombrely. "They've started looking for a new home. No matter how this case resolves, they aren't planning on staying here."

"Any ideas what happened three months ago?" John mused.

Gene shook his head. "We haven't been able to identify any particular cause. Nothing changed as far as our client can recall, they didn't purchase anything or receive any gifts which might have brought it into their home."

"I thought we had a lead, the other day," Madoka frowned, crossing her arms across her chest. "An uncanny similarity reported in a newspaper, here in Oita. The children in a family reporting this woman at the base of the stairs. They claimed she disappeared when they got rid of their grandmother's antiques. But I found a follow up article the next day that claimed they'd made it up."

"Do you think this is just a copycat, then? And the kids made that up?"

"Hard to say." Madoka turned back to Gene. "And what about in the day you've been here?"

Gene exhaled slowly. "Since I've been here? Nothing."

"That's to be expected," Takigawa said, glancing at Madoka's frown. "A new presence often disturbs any set patterns."

"What I should say is, nothing that lines up with what they've told us." Gene continued quietly.

The expression on Madoka's face shifted. If anything, Takigawa would have said she looked worried.

"There was a child spirit outside. I only caught a glimpse before it ran away." Gene glanced at Madoka. "Before you ask. It was looking in the window."

Madoka nodded and tapped her chin. "Right," she said again, straightening in her chair. "Ground rules. I know I say this every case, but once the sun goes down, no one goes on their own except to the toilet, and even during daylight hours we'll stick together as much as possible to minimise all risks. We take shifts in pairs tonight and we'll work it out when Ayako gets here tomorrow. Takigawa and John – either of you prefer to take the night shift with me? We all had a sleep on the train today, so I'm giving Gene the night off."

Both Takigawa and John spoke at once. "Happy to."

Madoka smiled. "Nice to make an arbitrary choice. John, I'm giving you first shift with me tonight. Takigawa, hope you wouldn't mind waking up early?"

"As early as you need me."

Madoka nodded. "Good. We might switch around 2 tonight. We'll see how we go."

Gene rose to his feet and began stacking the empty dishes. "Takigawa and I might clean up then and turn in."

"Thanks for that. Try to get a good night's sleep."

"I don't know why she always says that. As if any of us ever sleep well when we're on a case," Gene chortled, once he and Takigawa were in the kitchen, putting away the dinner leftovers and loading dishes into the dishwasher.

"I think she has to say it," Takigawa laughed. "Someone has to look after the team, after all."

"Like a team mother. Is that right?"

Takigawa shook his head. "Nothing like my mother, that's for sure."

They had just put the last of the dishes into the dishwasher when the kitchen lights flickered. A moment later and Gene's walkie-talkie sounded. Takigawa had thought the devices ridiculous at first, but not after all their mobile phones all went offline during a particularly harrowing moment in what his phone company described as 'unanticipated interrupted service' when he rang to complain about it later.

"Gene, there's something happening in the room next to you. The thermograph is picking up a temperature dip and the motion detector is going wild."

Gene frowned as he picked it up to respond, exchanging a glance with the other man. Takigawa knew Gene was feeling the exact same things as he in that moment— curiosity, excitement, anticipation.

"The laundry, right? We can't hear anything from the kitchen. We'll check it out."

"I know I don't need to say this, but be careful. Something about these readings isn't right, I've got a bad feeling about this."

"Righto, Madoka. We're on our way."

a/n

and hello! -_-; here we are, some two years since my last update(?) It's definitely one of those things where the more time passes the more ashamed I am for not having updated that I actively avoid it. I'll be honest that I had three quarters of this chapter written back in 2019 but haven't been able to write much since then. First life throws a wrench. Moving house a few times, job change/uncertainty, general upheaval etc. And then same as a lot of people I suppose on the edge of natural disasters and global pandemics, getting back into the habit was really hard. Anyway – enough of me. Time to pull my head out of the sand. Fingers crossed things are more stable now and you'll find (somewhat) more regular updates from me, should you wish to follow.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I do, and I sincerely hope you, dear reader, have been—and continue to be—safe, happy, healthy, and well. Until next time,

abbq