Beneath the Lilac Tree

by archangelBBQ

"Been there, done that." It's been many years, but Mai and Naru finally meet again. Or has it? Moving forward this time, Naru is determined to change the past, even if he cannot predict how it will shape their future. Together the twins, Mai, and Lin will create SPR from scratch, though things are certain to be much different this time around.

18. Part XVIII

Many thanks to heliotrip for helping me better understand this cast of characters, NotHardlyCharlotte for some well-timed reminders, furiouskittenn for speculations (and a multitude of headcanons) on our lovely psychic babies, and last but certainly not least, Meepyonnee for always listening to my crackpot ideas and helping me sort out this convoluted plot. (You are much more supportive than I deserve, and I am eternally grateful.) Thanks all. xxx

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Part XVIII

Gene opened his eyes, disoriented, blinking blearily into the dim room. It felt like a lifetime had slipped by in his sleep, though he couldn't remember even an inkling of any of his dreams. Only that they'd existed, that he'd seen and experienced a multitude but hadn't actually lived any of it.

It would seem he'd slept in his brother's bed again, though he didn't even recall falling asleep the night before. He rolled onto his side and saw his own bed was empty. It took him a second to notice Noll standing, half-dressed, by the closet door.

"What time is it?" He groaned, rubbing his forehead with his fingers.

"Just after six," Noll replied softly. "You don't need to wake up yet. Martin and Luella haven't been getting up before seven."

"No, I'm awake." Gene mumbled, pushing his face into the pillow and closing his eyes. He obviously wasn't entirely awake, however, because it took him a moment to realize why his brother would be up before the rest of the house. Guilt immediately followed the realization. "I'm sorry, Noll," he muttered. Noll shook his head in response but otherwise remained silent.

Gene opened his eyes again, studying his brother as he buttoned his shirt. "That's my shirt, isn't it?"

Noll's fingers stilled for a moment before continuing to the final button. "I know," he said.

"Don't you have enough clothes without stealing mine too?"

"Just let me take this one," Noll said with a wry smile, adjusting the cuffs at his wrists. He slid a sweater over his torso and walked toward the door, his feet silent against the floor. "Are you really awake?" He asked, half-teasing and the rest genuinely curious.

"I'm awake," Gene muttered. "Just gonna lie here awhile, is all."

"Will you do me a favor?"

"Of course," he replied simply.

"If I'm not back before Martin and Luella get up," Noll began, tilting his head back and forth as if weighing the probability in his mind. "Will you check on me?"

Gene propped himself up on his elbows and gazed at his brother seriously. "I will," he replied. "If you want me to." If you're sure you want to keep the connection open while you're with Mai, he continued silently. He didn't want to insinuate exactly what might happen while the two of them were together but felt obligated to mention it all the same.

"It's fine," Noll replied aloud. "We haven't had much of an issue lately of letting anything extraneous pass through our psychic connection."

"Yeah," Gene agreed dubiously. "But that was always between the office and a library. Looking for books. There were never any strong emotions involved."

Noll pressed his lips together and Gene could see he hadn't fully considered that possibility.

"It's just..." Gene began, unsure of what to say. "I don't want to intrude," he finished, the words sounding like a lame excuse to his own ears. Now's not the time for us to see if you can keep our psychic connection open and not let tidbits of your private life pass along the way if you get adequately distracted.

Adequately distracted? Noll snorted aloud.

You know what I mean, Gene thought, annoyed. "Don't be an ass, Noll. I don't exactly want a glimpse of you and Mai snogging. I'm fine with that, of course, I just don't have any interest in seeing my two best mates going at it."

It'd been his intention to embarrass him but Noll simply smirked in response. "Mai would be happy to know you called her your best mate." He nodded in agreement as he opened the door. We can test this aspect of our connection later. Call her mobile, then, instead.

"Idiot scientist," Gene muttered as the door closed, flopping back down onto his pillow. What part of 'I don't want to test it' don't you understand? But he could feel his thoughts disappear into the void. Noll had already closed off his side of the connection between them and hadn't heard him at all.

...

Oliver could see the light was on in the house when he arrived and waited outside, knowing that Lin was inside. He gazed up through the bare branches of the lilac tree, his gaze focused instead on the pale clouds, moving swiftly across the sky. It was another windy day, he noted, and wondered absently how it would affect the flight. Grimacing, he remembered how the flight back to London was always longer than the flight to Japan. It'd been a long time since he'd taken this transcontinental flight in the western direction.

He turned his head forward when the door slid open. "Well done today," he heard Lin say. "I'll see you tonight." Lin turned forward and paused as he saw Oliver, holding open the door for him. "Naru," he greeted with a dip of his head, but if he was surprised to see him, he didn't show it. "I'll see you back at the apartment," he said. With that, he turned and left the two teenagers alone.

"Sometimes I can't tell if Lin-san is just never surprised by anything or if he just hides it really well," Mai giggled, taking his hand and leading him inside. "The kettle's on. Can I make you a cup of tea?"

He dipped his head in agreement and followed her into the kitchen. "Is your mobile on?"

"Hm?" She glanced over her shoulder from where she stood near the stove, spooning tea leaves into the tea strainer. "Yeah, I think so. It's there, on the counter, if you want to check. Why?"

"I asked Gene to call, if necessary." Out of the corner of her eye she saw him pick up the item before setting it down again. She'd just poured the water into the cups when his arms circled around her waist and he leaned his chin on her shoulder. "In case I lose track of time."

"Maybe I shouldn't bother with tea, then," Mai teased. "If you'd rather...?"

"Not in particular," he said lazily, pressing his lips against her neck and she could tell that he was smiling. "I wouldn't say no if you did. But," he exhaled, his breath warm against her skin. "Mostly I want to just sit next to you. It may be my last chance to relax for a while."

Mai smiled as she finished making the tea and he slid his arms away from her. She picked up the cups and gestured for him to follow her to the living room.

They sat on the cushions on the tatami floor, so close that their shoulders and arms pressed together.

"It'll be so strange without you at the office," Mai said and smiled ruefully, gazing at the tea in her hands. "SPR has always been you. Always cases with you, under your direction. It just seems.. so weird to think you won't be here. Not for my school or Ayami-chan..." Her voice trailed off. "The Yuasa High School case will probably happen before you come back, too."

"It won't matter if I'm here or not for those cases," Naru stated, his tone flat and matter-of-fact. "The objective will be to solve them as quickly as possible without arousing suspicion. We can sacrifice the data from these cases if they can be resolved swiftly." Seeing her surprised look, he shrugged his shoulders. "For the possessed doll, the spirit should be cleansed as soon as possible. We can't risk that child drowning in the pond. Not to mention that case would go very differently if a medium was there from the very beginning."

Mai nodded. It was true. Had Masako been there from the beginning, the first time, she would have sensed the trapped children immediately. Mai bit her lip as she remembered her distress. She'd first thought Masako had been exaggerating her discomfiture, but to sense the spirits of the suffering children was a terrible thing for any medium to experience. It would be Gene, this time, who would have to endure it.

"As for your school, it doesn't matter, of course, what you tell the principal," Naru continued as he sipped the tea. "If your classmate behaves the same as before, things may turn out very similarly to last time. Due to the structure's extreme instability, however, you shouldn't remain there for very long. Looking back, I'm almost surprised there weren't more injuries during our time there. We were lucky to get away with four, and that only two required hospital visits."

Mai nodded slowly in agreement, and frowned. "Four? Lin-san, of course—though that was my fault—and Masako fell, you cut your hand, and...?"

"You," he reminded her pointedly. "As I recall a rather large bookshelf fell onto you."

"Oh." Mai flushed. "I'd forgotten about that." She looked at her hands again, unable to meet his gaze as she remembered her first meeting with Gene.

"But," he conceded with a nod of his head, "with Yasuhara with you, I wouldn't be surprised if he figured it out faster than I did. Gene will know immediately that all the stories of spirits from a war hospital is complete rubbish. He's been around Tokyo enough to know where the hotspots of war ghosts are, and I suspect there's nothing near your school. With Hara's corroboration there would be no doubt. When Yasuhara researches the history of the area, keeping in mind that the problem is not supernatural in nature, I'm certain he'll come to the same conclusion I did."

"You never praised Yasuhara like this to his face," Mai teased. "I never knew you thought so highly of him."

Naru's lips twitched. "Only giving credit where credit is due. Yasuhara is good at what he does. I can respect that."

"Hmm," Mai hummed regretfully, tilting her teacup back and forth in her hands. "It's too bad you won't get to work with him. He'll become friends with Gene instead."

Naru exhaled a quiet scoff. "I'm sure they will, indeed. You'll have to keep them in line, you know."

"What? Me?"

"In some ways, they're too much alike." Naru pressed his lips together and Mai had a feeling he was deciding whether or not to say what he was about to divulge to her, but he continued. "Gene has never had the same kind of motivation as I. He loses interest in things easily. If it doesn't interest him, if it doesn't benefit him, he sees it as a waste of time. Yasuhara, I think, shares similar tendencies. He's clever and bright and tenacious, but when something fails to interest him, he's very straightforward about it."

"You've just described the human condition, Naru," Mai protested. "Aren't we all like that?"

He shook his head slowly. "I don't mean that either of them are lazy, if that's what you think," he said, quirking an eyebrow at her dubious expression. "And I have no doubt Gene will be absolutely dedicated to any case that comes through SPR's doors. But I can't foresee him picking up my translation project to occupy his time in-between. Yasuhara will be a welcome distraction, I'm sure. If you're not careful it might end up just being you and Lin in the office. And SPR should not be your priority. I don't want Gene to keep you from focusing on your schoolwork."

"You're not giving him enough credit."

"Gene decided to come to Japan on his own for his own research, yes," Naru agreed. "Not only did he want to find the links to our grandparents, but he was genuinely interested in the supernatural phenomena of this country. He promised Martin he'd get a paper out of it. If nothing else, that he'd write several essays, illustrating his experiences here. But he was also driven to leave BSPR."

She frowned, setting down her empty teacup. "What do you mean?"

He didn't answer her immediately, and when he did his voice was lowered, tinted with an emotion Mai couldn't quite place. "Gene, he..." He began but his words broke off uncharacteristically. Naru sighed and turned his gaze forward, staring at some distant object she couldn't see. Just as quickly, he shook his head and blinked, as if returning to the room.

"Gene didn't feel the same way I did. I had accepted the life we had, in England. Perhaps I was reluctant to show it, but I was happy to be in a place where our abilities were of interest, not fear or disgust. I was content to read, to study and be studied. We both agreed that our lives were infinitely better than they had been in the orphanage."

"But...?"

He sighed and touched his forehead with his fingertips. "Gene disliked Martin's tests. He didn't have very much interest in school. We started university together but he lightened his course load to one class per term in order to pursue other interests. Martin still expected us to accompany him on cases, however, as well as the routine tests he'd arranged to evaluate our abilities. And then he decided to come here. Luella let him take time off from university completely. Indefinitely."

He paused, eyebrows knitting together in an unexpected, open expression. Mai knew he was remembering something unpleasant, though not directly related to Gene's death—she'd have recognized the pain flickering in his eyes and the unnatural tightness of his jaw. "Martin and Luella fought about it?" She asked quietly. It was hard to imagine, as she'd never seen the couple argue about anything.

He gave a short nod, closing his eyes. "Luella would have let Gene do anything he wanted, but Martin only agreed on the condition that he'd resume his studies when he returned."

Mai pursed her lips together in a confused frown. "And Gene was okay with that?"

"Gene didn't know," Naru said, setting down his teacup and rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingertips. "Not the extent of their row nor the promise Luella had made for him."

Her mouth dropped open in surprise. "Does he know now? That he'll have to go back to school when he returns to England? Is that why he was so set on staying and opening the office?"

"Oh, no," he shook his head quickly, eyes flying open. "I'm quite sure he has no idea."

"I can't believe you're keeping that from him," she muttered, pulling her knees close to her body and leaning forward to rest her chin on them. "And now you expect me to keep your secret for you."

Despite her irritation, he looked amused. "I'm not asking you to keep a secret. At this point, it doesn't matter if he knows about Martin and Luella's agreement. I only ever intended to keep it from him until he went to Japan. Madoka agreed that if he knew he might do something exceptionally reckless."

"Exceptionally reckless?" She repeated incredulously. "As in, leaving your home in the middle of the night and running off to Japan without telling anyone, the way you did? You didn't even tell Lin-san."

He tipped his head. "Yes," he admitted. "There may have been a better way to do it. I acknowledge I wasn't thinking entirely rationally."

That he accepted her retort without a barb of his own threw her off and she sighed, rubbing her forehead with her fingers. "Sorry," she muttered. "I just hate it when you sound like you're lording over everyone." It also bothered her that she resented the fact he'd never been able to talk about Gene; that he'd never confided in her before now. She'd accepted that fact, before—understood that there were some things left better unsaid. And now, being here with Gene and Naru together in this new go-around, she regretted that she'd never pushed the subject. She hadn't really understood anything about Naru's relationship with his twin before. Before and after he'd died. She thought she'd understood but she'd been utterly clueless.

He watched her calmly with a level gaze and she squirmed slightly, uncomfortable to be scrutinized. "Naru, sorry I—"

"Gene was bored," he interrupted. "It took me a long time to realize the extent of his boredom. He wanted an excuse to get away from BSPR but felt trapped and obligated to stay. Coming to Japan was a way for him to pursue something he was interested in for his own sake and justify it to Martin at the same time. He would have hated to know they'd argued because of him. He would have resented Martin, would've thought Luella'd betrayed him. And he was already annoyed that I refused to go." He looked down and folded his hands together in his lap. "None of it would have stopped him. He'd have gone anyway. Madoka thought the same thing. She's the one who asked me not to tell him."

Mai sat quietly, processing what he'd told her. "Why are you telling me all this?"

He exhaled quietly, a resigned look crossing his features. "I don't want you to be misled," he admitted quietly.

"Misled?" She frowned.

He folded his arms across his chest, keeping his gaze level with hers. "To think he's something he's not. I won't be here to tell you."

She knew, of course—knew he was leaving, knew that this would be the last time they would sit together for months, and knew that no matter what he might say they wouldn't have conversations for days or even weeks on end. But to hear him say it, now, somehow reinforced the realization that he was leaving. Leaving. Mai shut her eyes tightly, willing her tears to disappear. Crying wouldn't change anything, least of all his departure later in the day. "I don't know why I'm surprised to hear Madoka's involved," she finally mumbled, resting her forehead on her hands. "I would have thought she and Gene were conspiring together, but you—"

"It usually was." He hesitated. "I think I told you, once, that his trip was Madoka's idea. She suggested it to him in the very beginning, although I'm not sure if she thought he'd take it seriously."

Mai nodded, remembering. He'd told her a long time ago, and it was only the small, occasional instances that had kept the memory alive in her mind. Naru certainly hadn't blamed her, but Madoka had surely felt some guilt of her own. Mai had seen the pained look in the woman's eye whenever Gene's name was mentioned, the look of carrying the burden of guilt for far too long. "Martin and Luella don't know that, do they?" She ventured. "That it was Madoka's idea."

He gave a short nod but said nothing. The two sat in silence for some time and listened to the quiet ticking of the clock, both watching as the second hand advanced unrelentingly around its face.

"Are we doing the right thing?" Mai asked suddenly. He frowned, not understanding. "I mean..." she paused, struggling for words. "You have to go back to England, of course, there's no question about that. You have your work, your studies—"

"I didn't realize you and Martin were in such agreement," he interrupted dryly.

"—But is it really okay for Gene and Lin to stay in Japan?" Mai protested. She laughed bitterly and covered her face with her hands. "I guess it's a little late now, isn't it?"

He looked surprised, and then his frown deepened. "Of course it's fine. What are you saying?"

"I feel guilty," she mumbled into her arms. He put his arm around her, pulling her closer to him, and she leaned her head against his shoulder. "I was looking forward to being able to do another case with both you and Gene."

"We will," he said without hesitation. "We'll just have to wait."

"Yeah," she agreed morosely. "Later. Whenever that is."

He waited before asking. "What is it?"

"It's nothing," Mai sighed and laughed bitterly. "Or everything. Both. I don't know."

He squeezed her shoulder gently. Not knowing how to reassure her, he remained silent.

...

Gene was sitting in the living room, leaning over the jigsaw puzzle, when his brother returned.

How's Mai? Gene thought toward him, glancing up to see him slip off his shoes, a newspaper tucked under Noll's arm.

Fine, came the answer. When Gene waited expectantly, Noll shrugged and shook his head, crossing the room. Placing two puzzle pieces together, Gene hopped to his feet and followed him into the kitchen.

Lin was busy at the stove and Sarah sat at the table, drinking coffee. "Good morning, Oliver," she said brightly, and he afforded her a nod in return.

"Too bad you can't stay, Sarah," Gene sighed loudly as he slouched down into a chair. "Lin would make us breakfast every morning."

"I very much doubt that," Noll muttered dryly as he poured himself a cup of tea. Sarah looked amused, but from which comment it was hard to say.

Lin raised an eyebrow but otherwise ignored the exchange. "There's still some coffee, Gene. Would you care for any?"

"Yes." Gene sat up in his chair. "Please. And thank you," he added, giving his twin a pointed look.

Noll rolled his eyes at the comment but did not look up from the paper, his lips dipping into a frown as he read the headline article.

Lin poured the cup and passed it to Gene. At that moment Luella appeared from the hallway, smiling cheerfully. "Good morning," she said, leaning down to kiss Gene on the top of his head and kissing Noll's cheek as she took the seat next to him. "Sleep well, I hope? Oh, Lin, you shouldn't have gone to all the trouble—"

"It was no trouble at all," Lin assured her, ferrying the food from the counter to the table as Martin joined them. Noll set aside his newspaper and the family sat down for breakfast.

Noll returned to the paper when he'd finished eating, the rest of the table still occupied with their own breakfasts and morning conversations, something he was happy enough to listen to even if he had no desire to participate. He'd only been reading for a minute or two when Gene interrupted him.

"Let me see one of the sections," he said, holding out his hand. This garnered a look of irritation and Gene rolled his eyes. "If you're reading the front page you hardly need the inside stories. Give it here."

"Even four days seems much too short for a holiday, doesn't it? We've come all the way to the other end of the world and now we're going back again." Luella was saying, but Gene wasn't listening. His brother relented and passed him the paper. Flipping through them, he tilted his head back and forth. Financial news: boring. The Tokyo Stock Exchange? Incomprehensible, probably even for Noll. Politics: anything with a mention of the Diet became pretty much meaningless to him. Sport: baseball, which he didn't care for, though under the main headline there was an article on sumo, and that seemed somewhat interesting. Now local: just some article on a transportation upgrade, next—

"Bloody hell," Gene breathed as he turned the paper, eyes growing wide as he read the headline and took in the picture.

"Eugene, watch your tongue," Martin said sharply as he turned his head toward his son.

"What is it?" Noll reached around him to take the paper, straightening it with his hands. "English Psychic Brothers Eugene and Oliver Davis Vanquish Evil Spirit," he read the headline in a disinterested tone. Luella's eyes had grown wide, Gene was making a peculiar strangling sound, Martin dropped his fork with a clatter and even Lin's face had paled.

"Vanquish?" Noll repeated, an eyebrow rising in amusement. "Seems a bit theatrical. Building burned after claims to contain the evil spirit inside," he read, sounding bored as he glanced through the article. "—"Country home haunted by ghost of earlier occupant, claims which cannot be verified after the conflagration. An elaborate hoax or publicity stunt?"— Well," he shrugged. "There's no mention of the Prime Minister, at least. Whoever the source, he did one thing correctly to leave the head of the state out of this."

"Noll—" Gene managed.

"I suppose I should be grateful we can count on the Japanese media to blur our faces adequately," Noll continued, holding the paper up for the others to see. The black and white photo showed two male figures—clearly unaware that they were being photographed, as the angle was from above and from the side—but the faces were blurred and unrecognizable.

"We are going to have to close the satellite office immediately," Martin said, suddenly seeming to snap out of his daze. "I will not have the media descend on you—"

"Now, Martin," Luella began, raising her voice. "There's no need to overreact."

"And on the day we leave! It'd be one thing if we were staying, Lu, but we can't leave Gene here by himself to fend off curious reporters or tabloid journalists—"

"There's no need, Martin," Noll interrupted calmly. "As I'm leaving the country in a couple hours, there won't be any brothers for the media to find. Our direct contact as twins and as psychic researchers has been with a limited number of people."

Martin frowned. "Your client from your first case—the girl with the deceased twin sister—will she be a concern?"

"Even if she saw this headline, I don't think we need to worry about her," Gene said with utter sincerity. "I don't think she'd put two and two together. The English bit and the different names would probably throw her off."

"And the Australian priest you worked with?"

"If—if—Father Brown were to figure it out, I know we can count on his discretion." Noll said evenly.

He probably already knows, he realized we're English, Gene thought.

Noll curled his lip in displeasure. He certainly knows, but there's no need to tell that to Martin.

What about Yasuhara? He hasn't even met me but he already had an inkling about there being twins in the picture. If he saw this...

If Yasuhara sees this headline he'll know immediately, Noll thought grimly. But I don't think he's the type to go to the media. He's more likely to blackmail his target directly. Seeing Gene's face blanch he added, Not that that's something you have to worry about.

Martin rested his face in his hands. "And Miss Hara," he groaned quietly, as if suddenly realizing the most obvious. "We've as good as given you away."

"Hara recognizes the need for discretion better than anyone," Noll said flatly. "Besides, she already knew who we were."

Martin dropped his hands as he looked up sharply. "You're certain?"

"She saw the demonstration video. While she didn't realize at first, after our second meeting it was clear who we were," Naru said. The latter was a bit of conjecture on his part, but if Masako hadn't already connected the dots surely she would soon.

Martin sighed and rubbed his forehead with his hand. "I knew it was a mistake to let them distribute that," he muttered under his breath.

"We can't close the office today, anyway, Martin," Luella reasoned. "We might as well wait and see if anything happens."

Lin nodded. "I have to agree," he added quietly. "Even though I would prefer to err on the side of caution, Martin, I don't think it's necessary to close the office completely. It's unlikely that anyone would start looking for Gene or Noll in a small office such as SPR. And as Noll said: even if someone desperate for a story visited every psychic research office in Japan and happened upon Shibuya Psychic Research, there would be no brothers to even begin to make accusations."

Martin's lips thinned as he contemplated the matter. "Yes," he finally conceded, nodding reluctantly. "We can keep the office open," he began, and Gene gave an audible sigh of relief. "For now," he added sharply. "If this persists—if there's interest from the media, if anyone comes asking questions, we'll have to re-evaluate the situation immediately."

Noll nodded. "That would be the only reasonable thing to do." Throwing a sideways glance to his twin, Gene grudgingly nodded in agreement.

"I would feel more at ease if Lin were to take the role of the president of the office," Martin continued. "Publicly, at the very least. The internal workings of the office can remain the same—but introductions to clients should reflect this and interviews should be conducted as such so as not to draw unnecessary attention to Gene."

"Of course," Lin agreed.

Luella patted Martin's arm gently as he sighed, lifting his hand to press his fingers against his forehead. "I suppose that's all we can do for now."

"It'll be fine, Martin," Luella reassured him. "Lin will keep an eye on things for us and Gene will be cautious not to reveal his identity," she finished, and Gene nodded quickly. "Now then," she said briskly. "Noll, have you finished packing?"

"Last night," Noll replied shortly.

"What about the office?" Martin asked.

"I've taken everything of importance I need."

"Let's do a once-over of our room, one more time," Gene said, standing abruptly and taking his plate to the sink. "Better be safe than sorry. And just leave everything, we'll clean up later," he added as Luella rose to her feet and began to collect the breakfast dishes from the table.

"We're not that pressed for time, Gene," Luella replied.

"But we'd better get a move on," Martin said, looking at his watch, and everyone around the table began to rise.

Noll followed his brother into their room and watched with a raised eyebrow as Gene closed the door quietly behind him.

"What?" he asked.

Are you sure you don't want to trade places? Gene asked him silently. Because if you do, now is the time to do it.

Don't be ridiculous. It would never work, anyway. His brother gazed at him levelly. "What is it?" he asked.

Gene shook himself slightly and averted his gaze. "Nothing," he finally muttered. "It's nothing."

Noll narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure?"

"I should be asking you that," Gene retorted quickly. "You're sure about this? Going back to England for four months? All I have to do is shut myself away and—"

"No," Noll interrupted, his voice quiet but firm. "It's only four months. I'm trusting you, Gene. Just... Don't let Mai do anything stupid on your next case. On any case. And don't you go running into danger either."

...

They said their goodbyes at the office. Martin felt uneasy about the twins appearing in public together with an English couple, as if simply being with them might somehow alert the public to their identities—but it was Noll who insisted Lin and Gene keep the office open in the afternoon rather than accompany them to the airport. In the privacy of Lin's office, while Luella hugged Gene tightly and Martin helped Noll select some additional books to bring back to England, Lin and Sarah were able to say goodbye to each other properly. Martin was adequately distracted and Luella pretended not to notice as the couple disappeared into the room, and as they left she patted Sarah's arm gently as the young woman tried to wipe her tears away discreetly.

"I'll miss you, Mum," Gene said, a little breathless as Luella hugged him tightly.

She squeezed him tighter and kissed his cheek. "Lin, you look after him, won't you?" She said sternly, and Lin nodded with a small smile, the strain behind it hid with years of practice.

"Of course," he promised.

Martin shook Lin's hand and embraced Gene affectionately when Luella finally released him. "Don't do anything Noll wouldn't do," he reminded him gruffly.

"'Course not," Gene assured him with a grin.

"We'd better go," Martin said, pulling back his jacket to look at his watch. "It really wouldn't do for us to be late from traffic."

Luella kissed Gene's cheek one last time and waved as they turned toward the door. "Call me," she instructed. "Regularly. Don't forget."

Noll nodded at Lin but otherwise said nothing, and closed the door behind them.

Lin sighed at the finality of the closing door and stared at it for a moment before turning to glance at Gene beside him. Gene was still staring at the door. His grin from just a few seconds ago had evaporated, leaving his face blank and his eyes glazed. He looked, to put it simply, a little lost.

"I'm going to put the kettle on," Lin said, clearing his throat. "Would you like anything? There are leftover biscuits."

"Hm?" Gene looked up, absently, and shook his head. "No, I'm alright. Thanks, though." He retreated into the office and closed the door behind him.

...

The last time she'd done this, Mai hadn't taken the train to Narita at all—with all of her possessions packed tightly into two heavy suitcases and a stuffed backpack on her back, she'd allowed Naru to persuade her to take a taxi. Since she'd only made the trip once before, she'd forgotten the landscape of the journey, but there was really nothing in particular that caught her eye as she gazed out the window, eyes following the dark evergreen line of the pines and crisscrossing telephone wires, drifting over the car dealerships and shipping containers and storage buildings that lined the road. The images slipped by under her gaze, as good as unnoticed. Afterwards, she wouldn't have been able to say anything she'd seen in particular.

She hadn't known what airline they were using and therefore which terminal from which they would be leaving, but she didn't allow herself to question that fact as her body seemed to move of its own accord. Hurrying through the turnstile, she headed for the escalators, half-listening to the announcement of an arrival from Seoul and the Korean-language announcement that followed.

It was then that she saw them, passing suitcases to the two uniformed men who lifted them onto a conveyer and the luggage disappeared behind ruffling rubber slats. It was Luella who turned and saw her first. The woman's eyes grew wide but she said nothing, simply reaching toward Naru and tugging on his elbow. Mai watched as Naru turned to his mother and followed her gaze to where she stood. Naru excused himself from the group, though whatever he said did not cause either Martin or Sarah to turn to look. As he walked briskly toward her, Luella turned her gaze away, back to her husband and their remaining suitcases.

"Mai," Naru said as he reached her, his lips dipping into a frown and eyebrows lowering in concern. "What are you doing here?"

"Um," Mai shrugged off her backpack and unzipped it, pulling out a thermos first and passing it to him. He held it and waited patiently as she then retrieved a small package, wrapped in an indigo-dyed cloth. He took that from her as well as she reached into the bottom of her bag and rummaged around for something once more.

"You don't have anything of mine," she said, shifting the bag and peering inside. Her eyes lit up as she finally found it and she held out a small, oblong object. "I have been told," she began lightly, only the hint of sarcasm tainting her smile, "that I tend to fall into trouble a lot. That I am careless and don't think things through and have a thick skull and for some reason, add ghosts into the mix and I'm nothing but a disaster waiting to happen."

"Whoever would say such a thing," he murmured dryly. "I certainly never called you a disaster, Mai. And having a thick skull, in your case, is definitely an advantage."

She laughed and took the thermos from him so she could press the small item into his hand. "It's just my pencil case, nothing special," she admitted. "But I've had it since elementary school and I've used it every day. I couldn't think of anything else that was small that might have a strong connection to me."

He turned it over in his hand, feeling the coarse fabric against his palm and eyes tracing over the simple cherry blossom design. He remembered seeing it on Mai's desk, at the SPR office, and years later with her things when she'd lived with his parents in London. "Your mother gave this to you," he recalled quietly.

"Yes." She looked up at him and her lips widened into a genuine smile. "I want you to have it, Naru. So you don't have to worry about me."

He met her gaze seriously. "I won't look in on you unnecessarily. I wouldn't..."

She laughed at that, trying to ignore the tightness in her chest. "I know you won't."

"And you don't mind?"

"Of course not. I'm only lending it to you, after all." She teased. "You'll give it back, won't you?"

He looked at the case again and nodded, slipping it into his pocket. "You're skipping school again," he chastised lightly.

She shrugged. "Gene might be so kind to give me a work-related leave of absence."

"You'll have to convince Lin as well," he noted dryly. "As of this morning, Lin's effectively the operating officer of JSPR."

"Maybe you could put in a good word for me," she suggested sweetly, passing him back the thermos.

"This isn't the first time I've turned you into a delinquent." His lips quirked upwards. "Maybe it's a good thing I'm leaving, after all."

"Don't be silly," she said with a half-hearted swat at his arm.

"And these?" He held up the two items, the cloth-wrapped bundle and the thermos. "Bribes to get you out of school? To tell Lin to give you an excuse?"

"Oh." Mai blushed. "Since I was coming all the way out here and I know you don't like airplane food, and it's hard to find anything vegetarian..."

His eyes softened and he smiled. Shifting the two items to hold them with one arm, he reached toward her and touched her cheek.

"It's just tea and onigiri," Mai protested, averting her gaze as the blush brightened on her cheeks.

"Thank you." He dropped his hand from her chin and took her hand, squeezing it gently. He gazed at her for several moments, silently, but Mai didn't need to hear any words. She knew he would miss her, just as she would miss him. He didn't need to tell her; he didn't need to say the words aloud. She knew, now, knew and understood somehow even better than just yesterday.

Then he released her hand. "You'd better go before Martin sees you."

"Too late for that," Mai said, and Naru glanced over his shoulder. Luella was holding onto Martin's arm, her lips moving as she prevented him from approaching them. It was clearly what the man wished to do, though Mai couldn't imagine what Luella might be saying to convince him otherwise.

Naru smiled wryly. "Then you'd better leave before Martin insists on joining us and we have to go through our goodbyes again. I don't want to see Luella cry again this morning."

"Okay." Mai sighed and squeezed his hand. Were they alone again she would have held him to her tightly and burrow her face in his shirt, but in the middle of the airport with travellers passing by and noise all around them, she couldn't bring herself to do it. "You'll call me sometimes, right?" At his obvious hesitation she frowned indignantly. "You can't work all hours of the day."

"That's right, I need to sleep, too." His eyes seemed to twinkle, even in the bland florescent light of the room.

"Surely you can lose some sleep for me," Mai protested playfully.

"Of course I'll call you," he assured her. "And you know, you're free to call me too. Just give your phone bill to Lin."

"Naru," she gasped. "That's fraud or—or embezzlement of company funds, or grant money—I can't do that."

He smirked and shook his head. "Idiot. It wouldn't be SPR's money, it would be mine. I'd tell you to give it to Gene but that airhead would forget to pay it and you'd probably get disconnected." She looked dubious and he sighed. "Just tell me you'll call me sometime, too. You know... how bad I am."

She couldn't fight the smile that tugged on her lips. "Not as bad as you think you are."

He exhaled as he gazed at her, remaining still despite the increasing noise around them. "Please be careful," he said quietly.

"I will, of course. I'll be careful and you be nice to all the interns," she teased. "Not everyone is as smart as you."

"I love you."

It caught her by such surprise that her mouth dropped open at the unexpected declaration. So much for not needing to hear the words. Instantly her eyes filled with tears. She opened her mouth to speak—

Paging all passengers for British Airways flight 8945, intoned the neutral voice from the loudspeaker directly above them. Mai's lips were already moving of their own accord but the words were lost in the din. British Airways flight 8945 bound for London Heathrow. The departure gate has moved to Gate 35. All passengers please make your way to the new designated Gate 35.

I know, he mouthed, his lips curving into a smile. Turning, he returned to where Martin, Luella, and Sarah were waiting for him. Luella took the wrapped bundle of onigiri from him and Martin handed him the satchel he'd left. Mai raised her hand and watched them disappear into the crowds.

...

Gene was there to greet her as she opened the door to the office. He was sitting on one of the sofas, fiddling with a piece of paper in his hand. "Oh, hullo, Mai. Thought you'd be here early this afternoon. Noll said you met him at the airport."

Lin opened the door to his office as he heard her enter, lifting an eyebrow as he glanced at the clock. "Not going back to school?" He inquired.

"No," Mai said, dropping her bag and flopping down on the couch opposite Gene. "I'll do my homework," she said, even as she closed her eyes, covering them with her arm. "As long as I finish my homework, it's okay," she justified.

Gene said nothing. After several minutes of listening to the rustling of paper, Mai opened her eyes. "Origami?" She asked, sitting up slightly. "What are you making?"

"It's supposed to be a peacock. What do you think?" he finished his last folds and held out the white object for her to take.

Mai leaned over the coffee table and took the symmetrical paper bird from him. "That's pretty cool," she said, a delighted smile lifting her lips as she turned it over carefully in her hands.

"It's the only one I could remember." Gene shrugged. "I thought I remembered the dragonfly, too, but..." his voice trailed off and he tilted his head toward the bin. Mai could see the evidence of his earlier attempts, folded and crumpled pieces of paper. "I must've made a hundred dragonflies, once, but after the first few steps my mind goes blank."

"Where did you learn?"

"Oh, someone gave me a book," he said absently, taking the peacock back from her as she held it out. He adjusted its tail feathers and set it up on the table. "It was a long time ago. Apparently this is all I remember."

"I only ever knew how to make balloons and cranes," Mai admitted, watching him as he began to fold a fresh sheet. "For various projects in school. Isn't that so boring?"

"Do you still remember now?"

"I think so," she began dubiously.

"Show me," he said, taking a sheet of paper from his stack and passing it toward her.

"Gene," Mai frowned, "this is just regular printer paper. It isn't square. You haven't been trimming it?"

"Nope. No need." He continued to work on the next peacock, eyes intent on his hands even as he spoke. Mai stopped to watch as well, watching his hands deftly folding, creasing, and tucking the paper to form the shape. "I didn't realize at first that origami didn't have to be from square paper, but there's a whole tradition of using rectangular paper, you know? It's all based on the aspect ratio of one to the square root of two. And silver triangles, twenty-two and a half degrees."

"What are you talking about?" Mai laughed, looking down at her own sheet of paper and folding it carefully and then making a crease at the edge. She tore off the piece carefully, transforming her rectangular sheet into a square.

"Oh, you know," Gene said blandly. "Just maths." He held up the second completed bird and frowned. "This one's a bit messy," he mused. He tossed it down carelessly onto the table and stood, moving to the other couch to sit down next to Mai. "Hey, wait," he protested as he watched her fold. "How did you get to that point? Start over at the beginning."

"You can make a complicated peacock from a rectangle but you really don't know how to make a crane?" Mai laughed, unfolding her paper and smoothing it out before starting over. He stuck out his lip at her comment but said nothing as he watched her fingers intently.

When she'd finished he picked up his own piece of paper and began to trim it into a square, the same way she had. Mai watched him out of the corner of her eye as she took a second sheet, beginning to repeat the process.

"I didn't get to ask you yesterday, how it went with Masako?" Mai asked him, setting down her second crane and leaning back into the sofa again.

Gene snorted and picked up another sheet of paper to start again. "It was fine. Martin was a little too eager to ask her questions about her experiences, in my opinion, but she didn't seem too put off."

"You couldn't have expected otherwise, though."

"No, of course not." He paused and gazed blankly across the room. "That's just how Martin is. If there was ever such a thing as too inquisitive, Martin would be it." He exhaled sharply through his nose, the sound almost a laugh. "Noll's just as bad. Though he wouldn't talk to her."

Mai frowned. "Why not?"

"She tried making eyes at him, or whatever you want to call it, so he gave her the cold shoulder." He turned his head toward her and met her gaze. "Jealous?"

"Should I be?"

"No," Gene laughed, then, his face relaxing. "I guess not. But I was! Treating Noll like that." He shook his head and looked back at the partially folded paper in his hands.

"Gene, how do you really feel about Masako?" Mai asked slowly.

He looked up, an eyebrow raised, and then turned away with a nonchalant shrug. "I don't know what you're talking about. It's not like I was lying when I said she was pretty, but the only things I know about her are second-hand through you and Noll."

"Do you remember meeting her last time?"

"Oh..." his voice trailed off and he contemplated the thought. "At Urado's mansion, wasn't it? Vaguely, then. I remember, but just barely." Seeing Mai's surprised look, he gave her an apologetic smile. "I remember being dead, Mai, but not a whole lot outside of being around you or Noll. The memory I have of Hara, at Urado's mansion, is kind of like one of those half-memories where you can't tell what you remember and what you remember being told. Like when you've seen the photo of yourself somewhere as a kid so you think you remember being there but all you actually remember is the photograph. Or when someone's told you a story so many times you kind of forget that it happened to them. If it's non-specific enough you might think it happened to you."

Mai looked confused. "I don't understand. I mean," she hastened to clarify. "I know that feeling. Most of my memories of my dad are kind of like that."

Gene turned back to the paper in his hands. "It makes sense, though, doesn't it," he said quietly. Something about his voice sounded eerie, as if repeating a declaration. "After all, how could we be alive and have memories of death?"

...

Mai and Gene were still sitting on the sofas, numerous folded birds cluttering the table when the office door opened again. Both looked up, Mai from her textbook that she'd finally, reluctantly, begun to read, and Gene from the crane on which he'd been drawing with a black pen. To their surprise, it was none other than Hara Masako. As usual, she wore a signature kimono, today's indigo and patterned with red and white blossoms.

Gene rose to his feet. "Hara-san," he greeted her politely. "Hello. I didn't think we'd see you again so soon. Come in, please, sit down. Can I get you anything?"

"I'm fine, thank you. I don't intend to stay long." Masako said as she approached. Mai thought she seemed wary, but for what reason she couldn't imagine.

Remembering her manners, Mai stood as well and bowed quickly. "We met the other day, Hara-san. I'm Taniyama Mai, it's nice to meet you, I don't know if you remember me?" Her words came out hurriedly and strung together.

Masako considered her for a moment before inclining her head. "Yes," she finally said dismissively, and returned her gaze to Gene. Mai sat back down on the sofa, trying not to feel hurt.

"And for what reason do we owe the honor of your presence?" Gene asked, sitting down only after Masako had taken her seat. Despite his half-mocking words, his tone was genuine. Mai couldn't tell if he was intentionally teasing or not.

Masako folded her hands primly in her lap. "Are the others here? Davis-sensei and Oliver-san?"

Gene's eyes narrowed very slightly. "They are both Davis-sensei, Hara-san. But no. They are not. I'm afraid it's only me." He smirked at her, leaning his elbow against the back of the sofa and resting his knuckles against his cheek. "Sorry to disappoint you."

"It is of no concern." On the contrary, Masako did seem disappointed, if only in her hesitation as she spoke. Mai might have believed her if she hadn't known better. "I can return to the office when they are here. I'm not sure it is of much importance—"

"They've left Japan for the foreseeable future, unfortunately," Gene interrupted. "Their visit was not long-term, as I'm sure you can understand." He waved his hand ambiguously. "Obligations in England and so forth."

"Very well." At this Masako seemed even more crestfallen, but she recovered quickly as she smoothed non-existent creases on her kimono. "I only came by because I was alerted to a fact I thought my obligation to share with you."

"If you're talking about the article in the Shimbun, I've already seen it." Not understanding, Mai glanced between the two of them quizzically.

"I see. Then it seems this was a complete waste of time." Masako said airily.

"It's always a great pleasure to see you, Hara-san," Gene said, feigning hurt. "It wounds me to think you don't hold us in enough esteem for even a social call."

Mai would have rolled her eyes but movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention, and she turned her head to look. It was only a wisp of color, shimmering and iridescent. When she blinked it had disappeared, seemingly through the adjoining wall. Lin's office was on the other side of that wall, but Mai knew it was not one of his shiki. Something about it was not quite enough like Lin to be one of his spirit familiars, though she wasn't entirely certain how she could be sure of that.

When Mai turned her gaze away Masako was looking at her carefully, eyes narrowed critically.

Mai gave Gene a sideways glance, but his expression was completely blank. If he'd seen it, he gave no indication that he had.

"My own preferences aside, I'm not in the habit of making social calls," Masako said, rising to her feet and signalling their conversation was at its end. "My busy schedule does not usually allow it."

"Then I do hope we'll be able to work together in the future," Gene said as he stood.

"Work together?" Masako repeated incredulously, raising an eyebrow. "I hardly think that seems likely."

"Oh?" He asked, a sly smile crossing his face. "Why ever not? It may be very helpful for our office to call upon your services. If you are available, of course," he added with a nod. "If it fits into your ever so busy schedule. We can discuss compensation in detail if that is an issue—"

"You are a medium, Davis-san," Masako said, interrupting him and a hard edge coming into her voice. "I can hardly think of a circumstance in which you would need to call upon my services."

"It's Shibuya Ichirou," Gene corrected without missing a beat. "And on the contrary. It is a luxury to have two mediums present at a case, and not one I would willingly pass up. If we were to work a case together we could verify the other's claims. Not to mention, a fact I'm sure you are well aware of, that even the best, most reliable mediums have days when they can't see or sense the presence of the others."

Masako stiffened. Mai noticed that her hands, nearly hidden by her long furisode kimono sleeves, were clenched into fists. Slowly, her hands relaxed.

"Yes," Masako conceded. "That's a valid point, Shibuya-san."

"Then you wouldn't object if we contact you in the future?"

"No." Masako's nostrils flared slightly. "Didn't I say so yesterday?"

"Then we're in agreement." Gene's grin widened. "And we look forward to seeing you again."

"Likewise," Masako said lightly, inclining her head. She then turned toward Mai, gazing at the other girl for a moment before speaking. "I don't suppose you would walk with me to my car, Taniyama-san?"

...

Mai had been surprised at Masako's request but had been quick to oblige her, hurrying to slip on her jacket and follow the other girl out the office. Gene hadn't said anything as they left, folding his arms over his chest and watching them leave. The two young women walked together down the street, the sky darkening into violet hues above while the street lights flickered on, lighting up the sidewalk.

"Er, sorry about Ichirou-kun," Mai began awkwardly. Masako looked visibly annoyed and Mai couldn't help but wonder if the other girl was actually angry. It was almost as if Gene had out-manoeuvred her. Certainly her visit hadn't gone the way she'd envisioned it, and Gene had obviously hit a nerve when he mentioned mediums having off-days. "Usually he isn't quite so... blunt..." she said, the words sounding lame to her own ears. Gene hadn't exactly been rude—not rude the way Naru was sometimes rude to their guests, visitors and potential clients—but it hadn't seemed like him, either. She couldn't stop her mind from wandering back to the conversation she'd had with Naru that morning. It seemed so long ago, already, and her throat tightened as she thought about him. Where was he now? Crossing the Arctic Circle?

"Taniyama-san," Masako said, bringing Mai's attention back to her abruptly. "I hope you don't find it terribly rude of me to ask you so forwardly, but you're a medium, aren't you? I know I'm not wrong to say you saw that spirit."

"Oh," Mai started, surprised by the unexpected question. "Um, no, actually, I'm not... not really. But I did see it."

"Not really?" Masako echoed. It surprised Mai to see the other girl looked amused. "At any rate, you're not a very practiced one. You know you shouldn't look so obvious when you see something. You'll draw unnecessary attention to yourself, from the living and the dead both. It'll only get you in trouble."

Mai looked at her hands, lacing her fingers together. "I get that a lot, actually."

"Trouble?" Masako inferred, and Mai gave a sullen bob of her head. "It doesn't surprise me," she snipped. She stopped at a non-descript black sedan, parked at the side of the street. A man in a suit hurriedly got out of the front seat and came around, opening the door for her.

Masako paused at the door, eyeing Mai carefully. "Would you sit with me a bit? I would like to ask you some more questions."

Mai hesitated, but nodded and climbed inside after the other girl. Masako made a signal to the driver, who closed the door but remained outside.

The vehicle was like a limousine in that there were facing seats inside, though the interior was not at all as spacious as Mai had presumed a normal limousine would be. Masako sat on one side and Mai sat on the other. Mai was suddenly struck by the notion that perhaps Masako remembered her. Why else would the girl have invited her into her car when they had barely met?

"Well, then, Taniyama-san," Masako said, settling back into her seat and yet remaining very straight and proper at the same time. "So you're not really a medium and yet you saw that spirit?"

"It's, uh, latent ESP," Mai admitted. "Naru says it manifests as a form of self-preservation instinct. Er... Kazuya-san, that is," she corrected herself hastily.

Masako nodded thoughtfully, and then arched an eyebrow. "Naru?"

"I was hoping you'd let that one slide," Mai muttered, pouting. "It's just a nickname."

"Strange nickname," Masako remarked.

"When I first met him I thought he was narcissistic," Mai mumbled. "Narcissistic Naru-chan."

Masako narrowed her eyes. "That's hardly a cute pet name, you know."

"It's not a pet name," Mai corrected quickly.

Masako raised her eyebrows. "Is that so? He is your boyfriend, isn't he?"

Mai opened her mouth to protest but she wasn't able to deny it.

"Besides, you obviously don't call him by his real name. Why 'Kazuya-san' but 'Ichirou-kun'?" Masako pointed out.

Mai closed her mouth and pressed her lips together. "I'm not the only one who calls him that," she finally muttered, more annoyed at her own mistake than the fact that Masako had caught it.

"Anyway," Masako waved the question away with a flick of her hand. "It doesn't matter. If you had been a medium I thought I could ask you. You don't seem like the type to hide anything. I won't be able to accept the invitation to work with SPR if I don't know the truth."

Mai looked confused. "About Ichirou really being Eugene Davis? I thought you knew. You saw the video."

Masako's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "How would you know if I saw the video?"

"Well—Naru said he thought you must've," Mai corrected herself hastily. "He... he thought you probably already knew their identities when he met you yesterday."

The answer seemed to satisfy her enough and Masako nodded. "Yes," she admitted slowly. "I didn't make the connection at first, at Meiji Shrine, but it was clear when I saw them with Davis-sensei."

"But if you know he's Eugene Davis, what else do you want to know?" At Masako's level stare Mai added, tentatively, "Maybe... maybe I can tell you anyway?" The thought of not eventually becoming friends with the other girl made Mai's throat constrict and her stomach twist into a knot. "Just ask me," she encouraged.

Masako hesitated and shook her head. "It's probably nothing. And if your animal instinct hasn't alerted you about it, you'll be useless anyway."

"Hey," Mai protested. "I never said anything about an animal instinct."

"You said self-preservation instinct," Masako reminded her coolly. "Isn't that the same?"

"It's not the same," Mai informed her crossly, folding her arms defiantly across her chest with a huff. "It's not the same at all. It's a completely different way of looking at it. And I'm not useless."

Masako didn't seem affected by her outburst. "But you can't see it around Shibuya-san—Ichirou-san—can you?" She asked sharply.

"See it?" Mai frowned. "See what?"

Masako didn't answer her and looked out the window. Mai noticed she'd started tapping her fingers against the car seat. "Perhaps it's because he's a perfect medium," she mused. "I've never met one before."

Mai looked even more confused. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"A perfect medium has a closer connection to the spiritual realm," Masako told her. She looked slightly annoyed to explain and Mai had a strange feeling of déjà vu. "And a closer connection to the dead—it's possible that some of that would cling to him—that could be what I see. I didn't realize at first why I felt uneasy around him," she admitted openly. "And it wasn't until today that I could really decipher what it was that I saw. It's like... a shroud of death around him. Looking at him, it's like he's alive but half-dead at the same time."

Mai inhaled sharply and Masako narrowed her eyes. "You do know what I'm talking about," she accused.

"Um." Mai looked at her hands, her mind tumbling in frantic circles as she tried to come up with something to say. Oh, why hadn't Masako asked Naru this question? Scratch that, why hadn't Masako just confronted Gene directly? She didn't know what to say—

"He died." The words were out of her mouth before she'd even realized she was going to say them. Masako's eyes widened in a mixture of surprise and alarm.

"I mean, he—he had a near-death experience," Mai continued, floundering. As she spoke her throat constricted and she found it hard to breathe. "There—there was an accident, that is, I mean, he did actually die, or you could say that he died because—because he stopped breathing, his heart stopped—but he's fine now—"

Masako seemed to relax somewhat and she gazed at Mai for some time before finally nodding. "You're an awful liar."

"I'm not a liar." Mai looked at her hands, clenched at her sides.

"I know. But you were going to."

Mai was overcome with a surge of panic. "Please don't say anything, Masako—"

"Don't be so informal," Masako interrupted, her nostrils flaring.

"I'm sorry. My mistake, Hara-san," Mai said quickly. "But—"

Masako held up her hand to stop her. She had a curious expression on her face and Mai wondered what the other girl was thinking. "I won't tell their secret, Taniyama-san. Either of their secrets. But only if you don't relay this conversation back to them."

"Why?" Mai asked, puzzled.

Masako tapped at the window glass and the driver standing outside opened the door. Mai took that as her cue to get out.

"Because I'd rather keep this conversation between us. Is that so strange?"

"No," Mai said, bewildered. "You'll join us, then? If SPR contacts you about a case?"

Masako considered it for a moment before a slight—very slight—smile brightened her eyes. "I can't promise anything, Taniyama-san. But I'll consider it if you call. Of that much, I can assure you."

...

When Mai returned to the office, both Gene and Lin were closing up for the night—which is to say Gene was putting on his coat and Lin was rinsing his cup in the sink. Lin seemed distracted in his thoughts and even more silent than usual; Gene, on the other hand, was clearly impatient.

"That took a while," he remarked. "How far away was her car parked, anyway?"

"Masako wanted some company," Mai said, gathering her schoolwork into her bag.

"She must've asked you about the spirit we saw."

"Yes," Mai replied honestly. "But I didn't know what it was." Gene tilted his head as he considered her and she tensed, uncomfortable to be held in his gaze. "What?" She asked defensively. She wasn't going to tell him what they'd discussed, even if he accused her of lying. She'd given her word and was not about to break it.

"Nothing." He shook his head and glanced at Lin as the man took his coat from the rack, slipping it over his shoulders. "What was that spirit, Lin? It wasn't one of your shiki, but it was very much like them."

"No. Not mine, but one of my family's." Lin paused as he turned over his collar and fastened two buttons over his chest. "I'll tell you about it over dinner."

...

It was not dinner, in fact, but some time afterwards. Neither Mai nor Gene pressed Lin for answers while they ate. Mai cleared the table and Gene put away the leftover food while Lin made a pot of jasmine tea. Setting it upon the table seemed to be the signal that he was ready, so Mai and Gene gravitated toward him and took their seats.

"It was a message from my grandmother," Lin said as he poured the cups of tea. "She's going to be here, in Tokyo, on Friday."

"Friday?" Gene repeated. "This Friday? As in, three-days-away this Friday?"

"So soon?" Mai asked. "But before you said—it'd be weeks—"

"Yes. So I thought." Lin nodded as he folded his hands together, leaning forward to rest his chin on the tips of his slender fingers. "To be honest, I never knew her plans," he admitted. "Today I learned she was initially planning on coming next week. As it happens, she's only moved her flight forward by a few days. A week at the most."

"Why? Did something happen?" Gene demanded. "No, scratch that—something must have happened for her to change her plans."

Lin exhaled, nodding. "Yes. But first I need to tell you about how I came to meet Thibault Bertin. For some reason, he seems to be related to what's happening, in some way or another."

Mai's heartbeat quickened into an uncomfortable thudding pace in her chest. At the mention of Thibault Bertin, she felt indescribably nervous. She glanced at Gene, but he was focused on Lin entirely.

They waited in silence as Lin pressed his fingers together, gazing at the table with his unobscured eye narrowed in thought. He finally cleared his throat. "It's somewhat of a convoluted story. I'll admit—I'm not proud of what happened. I've only recounted this four times before, and by telling you I trust you'll keep it to yourselves."

"Only four?" Gene questioned. "Who was it, those four times?"

Lin's fingers tapped on the surface of the table methodically. None of them had yet to touch their tea.

"My grandmother, immediately after the incident. To Martin when he hired me. Sarah before we were engaged. And lastly to Naru, several years ago. Of those times, only my grandmother received a full, unabridged version of what happened."

"Why tell Martin?" Gene interrupted. "You didn't have to, surely."

"He asked me about my spirit familiars and how they came to be in my service. I have never lied to him outright." Lin gazed at the two of them seriously. "I'll tell you what happened in its entirety." He nodded to Gene. "Of course, when I say to keep this private, you have my permission to relay this to Naru. If anyone is to find the links between then and now, it will only be through combined effort."

Gene nodded and Mai squirmed nervously, uncomfortable with what Lin was entrusting them.

Lin sipped his tea and placed the cup back on the table, centered exactly in front of him. "It is common practice in my family, when the onmyouji of a generation finishes his or her initial training, to send the child away from home to travel." He set his hands flat on either side of the porcelain cup, framing it with his long fingers. "I was eighteen. My grandmother was quite adamant that I travel far. Neither she nor my father had the opportunity to do so."

"Your father is an onmyouji as well?" Gene asked. Lin nodded.

"He was the first-born child, then," Mai recounted, remembering what Lin had told her several weeks ago. "As are you."

Lin nodded again. "My grandmother is the head of the family. She will eventually pass her title and responsibilities to my father, and eventually him to me. But that is not pertinent to this story."

"Sorry," Mai hastily apologized, but Lin shook his head, letting her know he did not mind the interruption.

"I was to travel. At this time I'd never been outside of Hong Kong or China. My mother's uncle—my great-uncle—was living in England, so I went there first."

"London?" Gene asked quizzically, but Lin shook his head.

"I did not go to London initially, but to Leeds." His lips twitched in a small smile. "You may recall Luella saying that Sarah's family is from Leeds. It's certainly possible I met her, in passing, though I honestly don't remember. If I did, I would have only regarded her as a child descended from the same people who had invaded and driven my mother's family from their home." He shook his head slightly, as if to himself. "At the time she would have been only fourteen. I did, however, meet her parents. Their bakery was across the street from where my great-uncle lived. It was a coincidence that we would meet at BSPR, some ten odd years later, and discover our paths had once crossed so closely."

Lin shook his head again and drank the rest of his tea. He took the teapot and refilled their cups, slowly and methodically, before returning it to the cork mat on the center of the table.

"I stayed in Leeds for a while before I began to travel again, acclimatizing myself to Western culture. I went to several ancient spiritual sites of England—Stonehenge and Avebury, to Neolithic tombs in Wales, to the stone circles in Scotland. After some time in the British Isles I went north for a summer in Scandinavia. From there, I went south again. I spent a fair bit of time in Spain and was on my way back to Leeds when I stopped in France. I wanted to see the Lascaux cave paintings." Lin paused, gazing at his teacup and fingering the porcelain, though he did not pick up the cup to drink.

"What a coincidence that I met him there. Bertin was a self-proclaimed witch-doctor with a spirit familiar in his servitude. It was he who first approached me. I still remember that moment clearly. I was sitting at an outdoor café when he came to sit with me. He introduced himself and told me his own spirit familiar had identified myself as a fellow spiritualist."

"Aahil," Gene speculated.

"Yes. Bertin seemed to take an immediate liking to me, and I to him," he continued. "He was an intelligent, charismatic man, perhaps a bit eccentric but likeable in his own way. You can imagine, I had been quite lonely in my travels. It had been many months, at this point, that I had been away from my family. Perhaps almost a year. To meet someone with whom I could discuss my life and interests was very agreeable indeed."

"Was he the first spiritualist you'd met?" Gene asked.

Lin nodded. "Quite surprisingly, he was, yes. And so I was very eager to hold a conversation with him. We spent the day together in Montignac, the village. He asked me about my background and I of him. I was quite flattered that he was interested in my experiences, as he was an older, well-travelled man. Our backgrounds could not have been more different, and we were fascinated by the stories the other had to tell. At least—I was." Lin exhaled a quiet, sardonic chuckle. "I cannot speak for him. But he seemed to be very interested in my sorcery."

Mai nodded as she tried to imagine Lin as an eighteen year old sorcerer, but it was difficult to think of him as anything but as he was now. Through all the years she'd known him he hadn't seemed to change.

"When Bertin invited me to accompany him to Paris, I saw no reason to object. It was within my itinerary." Lin's lips curled slightly. "We took the train to Paris together and spent a few more days in each other's company before parting ways. I was returning to England and he to Morocco. It was Bertin, actually, who first told me of BSPR. Instead of returning to Leeds, I decided to go to London. I was not finished traveling, but the thought of finding work there was too much to resist."

Gene's brow furrowed. "But you didn't end up in London for another year, at least."

Lin nodded. "Yes. It was my intention but it did not happen. I managed to schedule an interview at BSPR and Bertin contacted me the same day, asking if I would join him in Morocco. I accepted." He pursed his lips. "Against the judgement of two of my shiki."

"How many did you have at this point?"

"Three. Kit-wai, whom you've met," Lin said, nodding at Gene, "as well as Chiu and Nasida."

Mai nodded slowly, remembering the names from the day at Kaori's school. That day seemed so long ago.

"Kit-wai and Chiu were the spirits bequeathed to me from my grandmother, and are considerably older than Nasida—less adventurous, much more cautious. Something about Bertin did not seem right to them. They advised me to stay away from him. I did not listen." Lin smiled then, almost apologetically. "Nasida encouraged me to go. As my first shiki, she and I have a stronger bond than with the others. That she felt the same way I did was enough for me to disregard any reservations I had. So I cancelled my interview at BSPR and went to Morocco."

Lin paused and drank his tea, setting the empty cup on the table and gazing at the object for some time before continuing. "I travelled with Bertin for months, almost half a year. I learned a lot from him and often wondered why he had taken me under his wing, as what could I possibly offer him in return? He continued to ask me questions related to the onmyou, and even the magic of my mother's family, but he did not seem to make an effort to retain what I told him. I began to suspect that it was not questioning for the sake of curiosity, but rather to confirm my own status as a spiritualist. In other words, he was constantly assessing my talent."

Gene frowned at this but said nothing. Mai gnawed on her lower lip, her anxiety growing.

"It was after the first few months that I became wary of him. As Kit-wai and Chiu had first told me, there was something that did not feel quite right about him. I had no basis for it and yet I no longer trusted him the way I had before. I spent several weeks in indecision, trying to determine what I should do. Should I stay with him—or should I go." Lin turned over his hands one by one before resting them together again, tapping gently against his chin. "I did not trust Bertin, and yet I was still learning a lot from him and was seeing a part of the world that was otherwise inaccessible to me. At the same time, however, I was only sleeping at night knowing that my shiki were watching over me."

Gene's eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips. "But Bertin knew you had three shiki, and he only had one, certainly he wouldn't..."

Lin shook his head. "I did not ever tell him how many spirit familiars I had with me. I had assumed that his own—Aahil—must have informed him, but I later learned this not to be the case. At any rate, I did not know anything about Aahil. I could not see him. He was not visible to me."

"As you know, Aahil was a spiritualist in his own life before he was killed and his spirit enslaved. He had once been human, and that type of spirit familiar is very different from elemental spirits. None of my other shiki could determine exactly what he was and were always cautious of him. For all I knew, Bertin's spirit familiar could be one of the djinn he often told me about, and a very powerful one at that." Lin frowned, tipping his head slightly in acknowledgment. "Of course, it was not every day that I felt so wary of Bertin. There were days when he taught me how to coax ancient spirits out of rock formations in the desert and nights he showed me how to read the future in the stars, and I would forget my distrust. But it would always return."

"What happened in the end?" Gene asked quietly.

Lin closed his eye for several moments before opening it again and meeting their gazes solemnly, flickering between the two. "We set out for a remote area of the country and travelled deep into the desert wilderness. It was nothing like the first few months of our travels, where a village or town would always be a day's travel away. This was different, and dangerous. My reservations returned in full force and I decided it was time for me to return to Hong Kong. By then, however, it was too late. I realized I could not return without his help, and we reached our destination."

Lin paused again, his gaze drifting toward the window, across the room. "Bertin had purposefully taken me to those caves as a sacrifice to a djinn. A demon, if you will, sleeping under the earth. I was to be the food to revive it." He exhaled quietly. "Everything unravelled very quickly. I learned that Bertin was even older than I could have possibly imagined. He'd found this djinn when he was my age, many years ago, pledged his allegiance and had done everything to restore its strength."

"Through human sacrifice," Mai whispered with a shudder, understanding.

Lin's expression became pained. "Yes. And in return the djinn gave some of his strength to Bertin and would do his bidding."

"Then the djinn was, essentially, his spirit familiar," Gene mused.

Lin tilted his head. "Yes and no. The two held a mutually beneficial agreement, though ultimately the djinn was not bound to Bertin. He—it—was alternately much more powerful or much more weak than a normal spirit familiar. The djinn would venture out into the world with Bertin, but ultimately would always return to those caves. It was too weak to stray for long, even with what Bertin provided for him. I was not the first. I was not to be the last."

"But you escaped from Bertin," Gene supplied.

"Yes." Lin exhaled, his gaze moving between the two of them. "I escaped Bertin. Aahil turned against his master and warned me about the trap Bertin had set. I would probably not be alive otherwise."

Mai pressed her hand against her temple, trying to ignore the dull throb which had just begun. "Lin-san," she began, stopping to try to collect her thoughts. She bit her lip, glancing sideways at Gene. "Aahil told me he was tied to you by gratitude. But if he helped you, what is he grateful for?"

Lin gazed at Mai quietly, a small kind smile twitching his lips. "Aahil was enslaved by Bertin for a very long time and he killed many people in his service. When Aahil offered his allegiance to me, I did not have to accept. Accepting him meant I had to protect him from Bertin. I could have refused him, in which case, he would first have to face the consequences of his betrayal. A spiritual pact that shiki are held by cannot be easily broken, no matter what faith one follows or what one practices."

Gene frowned. "Wouldn't it make sense for you to accept him? I mean, Bertin was trying to kill you."

Lin's lips quirked in a smile. "Binding a spirit, even a willing one, is a very tasking venture, Gene. Though I agree. At the time it was the better of my options." He tilted his head back toward Mai. "To answer your question, Mai, Aahil swore he'd serve me to repent for his actions. He believes if he serves me and my descendants to the utmost of his abilities until the end of his spiritual life, he might be pardoned for the atrocities he committed."

"You mean he might pass on to heaven," Gene supplied.

"Something like that, yes."

Mai couldn't help but shudder. "He told me you saved him from a terrible fate."

Lin pressed his lips together in a thin line. "Yes. If Aahil had still been in Bertin's servitude when he died, he would have shared his demise."

The room became quiet for several moments. Gene finally broke the stillness. "What happened to Bertin?"

"He fell into his own trap and was consumed by the djinn," Lin said quietly. "What would have happened to me, had it gone according to plan. He burned alive."

Gene winced and glanced at Mai. Seeing her aghast expression, he regretted having asked.

Lin sighed again and rested his head in his hands. "I hold myself responsible for his fate. He should not have had to die. But I was unable to save him."

The three were very quiet. "Then.. the djinn had its sacrificial dinner or whatever," Gene finally said, exhaling a long breath. "How.. how did you escape it?"

Lin shook his head, though in his visible eye Mai could see that telling this story had exhausted him. It was clear to her he still regretted what had befallen the man with whom he had once been close. "It held no animosity to me. It asked if I wished to enter an agreement with it. I declined. I left. I have never been back there myself, though my family has kept an eye on this djinn ever since."

"What, you just left it there?!" Gene exclaimed.

Lin's eye narrowed. "It was by no means an evil entity."

"Maybe not, but what if another guy like Bertin happened upon it and started feeding it innocent humans in order to—to..." Gene's voice trailed off, unable to come up with an adequate possibility.

"I'll admit I initially felt the same way, but it was not my decision to make. My grandmother was adamant that we leave it be. After all, it let me live when it could have easily killed me," Lin said wearily. "After consuming Bertin it grew very powerful. There was nothing I could have done to stop it, should it have decided to consume me as well. But without Bertin to continue to feed it—without a malicious human as its partner—the djinn posed no threat to anyone. Not to mention, to go against that djinn—seemingly unprovoked—would have been risky enough without contending the fact that its family would undoubtedly retaliate against us."

Mai swallowed, clenching her hands into fists when she realized her fingers were shaking. "Then what happened to it? Lin-san, you... you referred to it in the past tense. It wasn't evil."

Lin exhaled silently, closing his eyes. "It remained in that cave, after all these years. Until a few days ago. My grandmother's shiki told me today that it's gone."

"What?" Gene hissed, eyes narrowing.

"That was what she sent her shiki to tell me. That was why she changed her travel plans."

Mai closed her eyes, a flash suddenly passing before her vision. A flock of birds. Wings beating the air. A man crouching on the ground, covering his face with his hands.

"Mai," Lin said softly, and she opened her eyes, dizzy.

"Mai," Gene echoed as he saw her sway, his anger gone as quickly as it had appeared, taking her shoulders gently with his hands to steady her. He shot Lin a look that was both bewildered and frustrated. "What happened to it?"

"There is reason to believe... that this particular djinn was consumed by something else." Lin exhaled a long breath. "And if that is the case, then this is very serious indeed."

"Bloody hell," Gene muttered. "This just went from bad to worse."

"It's probably not good," Lin agreed.

Gene frowned. "But.. is it the same as the disturbance in the spiritual plane? It's been four days since you received the first letter."

"No. Not necessarily the same," Lin said softly. "But that doesn't mean it's not related, either."

...

Mai opened her eyes, sitting up from where she'd been partially reclining on the sofa. The room was dim, lit by only one lamp. She realized she'd fallen asleep—sometime after they'd left the table for the sofas, though she felt even more exhausted than before. Despite Lin's adamant stance that it was still unknown, Gene insisted that both the initial tremor through the spiritual plane and the disappearance of the djinn had to be directly caused by something one of them had done: something that hadn't happened the first time. He'd sat them down and asked them to list everything that was different, but Mai didn't remember getting very far. She blinked blearily, noticing that there was something in the room with her. It was not Lin, nor Gene, and she rubbed at her eyes as she tried to make out its shape.

It was blue, she realized, deep blue and the most unreal color of teal. The more she gazed at it the more she thought she saw patterns of dark and light swirling over it from somewhere deep inside its being. Staring at it also made her cold and she began to shiver.

Nasida, the spirit introduced itself. It seemed uncoil and she realized it'd been crouching in the corner of the room, its true size obscured at first but now completely revealed. It was massive, easily twice the size of Lin. I'll tell him you're awake.

The words didn't seem to enter her head through her ears, but rather by some other part of her mind that she seemed to sense the voice. Mai shivered and watched warily as the shiki disappeared from the room. She'd thought she'd seen Lin's shiki before—Lin's shiki apart from Aahil, that is—but those had only been fleeting impressions of presence or very occasionally, a flash of illumination. Now she realized just how incomplete those impressions were. That enormous blueness, serpentine and graceful—that, she assumed, had been something closer to its true form.

Elemental spirits, was what Lin had said. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine Lin and that spirit together, in the windswept deserts of Morocco or the verdant French countryside. She tried to envision the spirit persuading Lin to go with Bertin, or defying the other two shiki when they disagreed. It was all but impossible.

"Mai," Lin said as he entered the room and she opened her eyes again with a start. "I hope you don't mind we let you rest. Gene wouldn't let me wake you."

"It's fine," she said, yawning and rubbing her head with her hand. "It's late, isn't it? Where is he?"

"Trying to contact Naru."

"Oh." Mai smiled sheepishly. "I thought maybe he fell asleep too."

Lin exhaled a quiet chuckle. "To be honest, I think that's what it amounts to. Gene indicated he couldn't reach him through their link. He seemed impatient and said he'd try to reach him by other means. I can only imagine that means while asleep."

"Oh." Mai lifted her gaze to the ceiling when she noticed the swaying of the shadows. Something had knocked the lamp, the shade tilted. "Lin-san, I..." She swallowed, not knowing why she was nervous to admit it to the man. "I saw Nasida."

"So she told me."

"No, I mean... I saw." Mai said tentatively. "Her? I saw her."

Lin's face remained expressionless and Mai wondered for a split second if he'd understood her. Then he nodded. "I see. Can you see her now? Or any of my shiki?"

Mai's eyes drifted over his shoulder and around the room, but she saw nothing. She shook her head. "Are they all with you now?"

"There are two here with me now. Nasida and Sundui."

She shook her head again, her eyebrows knitting together as she frowned in confusion. "Why could I see her before but not now?"

Lin looked pensive but didn't answer. "It's late," he finally said. "I can walk you home if you'd like."

"No, that's okay. It's only a few blocks and it's well-lit."

Lin considered her for a moment. "Mai," he cleared his throat, "would you like me to send Nasida with you?"

Mai was taken aback with the offer. "What? No, Lin-san, I couldn't—" Seeing his grave look her words faltered.

"Despite what Gene says, I can't simply assume these events are related until I see evidence to the fact," Lin admitted. "But if something created a disturbance by passing through the spiritual plane, and if that something consumed that particular djinn, there is good reason to suspect it is still in Morocco. And if not Morocco, then certainly closer to Morocco than Japan," he said seriously. "We have no way to know for certain if it poses a threat to any of us, but you've had nightmares and Gene feels uneasy. We have to treat it as if it's dangerous."

Mai looked at her hands. "Naru must have told you, then," she mumbled. "That I've had more than one dream." He nodded gravely. Mai rose to her feet and finally gave a quick bob of her head, even though she would not meet Lin's gaze. "If you think it's a good idea," she consented.

"I do." Lin said, and smiled wryly. "Besides, if Nasida is with you, you might see her again—and if you see her again, you might understand the reason why."

Mai nodded again, distracted. "You're worried," she ventured.

"Cautious," he amended, with a tilt of his head.

Naru had spoken of caution, she thought, nodding absently. What had he said? Caution is prudent. Or something like that. We continue as we do now. Except he'd left them to go back to England and she wasn't entirely sure what it was she was doing without him. The thoughts came to her slowly and she wished she didn't feel so sluggish. Some of the exhaustion had lifted but her mind still felt fuzzy, her thoughts thick. Lin was watching her, his lips pressed together in a thin line. She vaguely realized it was a look of concern.

"You can stay in the guest bedroom tonight if you don't feel well," he finally said. He beckoned her to follow him and Mai couldn't bring herself to resist. Even though it wasn't more than a ten minute walk, the thought of putting on her shoes and going outside into the cold night air wasn't an inviting one. Nor was the thought of returning to a silent, empty apartment. Here, the presence of Lin and Gene nearby was a comfort, and the distance between her and Naru didn't seem quite so vast when his brother was nearby. And if Gene only needed to fall asleep to contact him, then he wasn't far away at all.

Lin opened the door to the room and flipped on the light. He'd obviously cleaned the room since Martin and Luella had stayed in it the night before—unless Gene had, although it seemed unlikely that this was the work of a teenager. The room was immaculately tidy, with fresh linens on the bed and the carpet had that apparent lightness which only seemed to happen after vacuuming, every fiber in the floor brushed in the same careful direction. Lin left light imprints on the carpet as he crossed the room to the closet, slid open the door and retrieved a folded comforter from the upper shelf. It would have been too high for her to reach by herself.

"Here," Lin said as he handed her the blanket, and she hugged it close to her chest. "And there's a case of various amenities on the shelf. Naru left it for you," he added. "He understood there might be unexpected circumstances in which you'd want to spend the night."

Mai's mouth dropped open in surprise and curved into a pleased smile. "Oh," was all she could manage, unable to think of anything else to say.

Lin had turned toward the door. "We'll forego lessons tomorrow morning," he said over his shoulder, as if an afterthought. "I think it'd be better for you to rest."

She opened her mouth to protest and closed it again, nodding. She wanted to thank him, to ask him why he took such good care of them—all of them, even though it seemed like he received nothing but trouble in return. Lin had his own burdens to carry and she did nothing but add to them. He always had, she realized. Wasn't that the way it always was? You couldn't fathom another person's troubles until directly confronted with them and even then that could only ever be a partial image, an incomplete realization.

"It wasn't your fault, you know," she said suddenly.

He tilted his head, not understanding.

"Thibault Bertin. He was going to kill you. What happened to him..."

Lin averted his gaze. "Perhaps not," he agreed, shifting on his feet as he stood by the door. "And what's done is done," he exhaled. "But still, I can't help but regret what happened."

Mai swallowed. "It's not that I think it's wrong to remember," she began, unsure of how to say what she wanted to. "I just... it's not right to blame yourself. Because otherwise, you would have—"

Lin gave a small nod, a look of understanding in his eye. "I know," he said softly, interrupting so she would not have to finish. "It's all in the past, Mai."

Before, Lin wouldn't have answered her, never would have allowed her to speak. Before, he would never have revealed such a private part of his life to her at all. For her to know—and speak to him this way—would have been nothing more than an intrusion. It wasn't that long ago, really. Time had a way of slipping by: quietly, swiftly, unseen. It didn't change anything, really—Naru's reversal in time. There was only the past and the present. The past was always behind them, whether or not they chose to acknowledge it or how much it haunted them. And the present was only ever now—no matter who was there to see it. Gene might be looking for differences, she realized, that one moment when the past influenced the present, but there wasn't just one. The present was made up of countless moments from the past, remembered and forgotten. Ever since she'd opened her eyes, staring up into fine drizzle and a puddle soaking her bottom, every breath she'd taken was new. And so was everyone else's.

"Time moves in one direction, no matter what," she mumbled aloud. "If we thought Naru turned time around, we were wrong. There's no such thing as second chances."

She hadn't realized she'd spoken aloud until Lin nodded his agreement. "To remember as we do, how could we see it otherwise?"

Mai pressed her fingertips against her forehead. "Nothing makes sense," she mumbled. "Sometimes I feel like everything is a dream."

"Do I dream of the butterfly, or does the butterfly dream of being me?" Lin quoted.

She couldn't help but laugh weakly at the absurdity of it all. "And how could you ever know for sure?"

Lin smiled, as if at an inside joke. "No," he agreed. "You couldn't, could you."

Mai sighed, shaking her head. "Goodnight, Lin."

His smile softened at the informality, even though it would take her some time to understand the change in his expression. "Goodnight, Mai."

Lin had disappeared into his own room and closed the door. The apartment was quiet as Mai readied herself for sleep and turned out the light. Crawling into the bed, she closed her eyes and exhaled a long sigh. As she drifted off to sleep she thought she heard—but distantly, so distant—the roar of the ocean, the song of the sea.

...

---

a note from abbq:

This chapter's Naru seems to have been heavily influenced by heliotrip's portrayals of Naru, because there is only so much you can take in without it coming back out in some manner or another. Mine is but a pale imitation and thus I highly recommend you visit heliotrip's profile and check out every single one of their stories. They are all brilliant and genius, inspirational and incredibly moving.

Thanks always for your encouragement and support! I don't know what I've done to receive it, but I consider myself quite lucky. Until next time— cheers!