Day Six

1:00pm

The Festival Grounds

John took a bite from his teriyaki bowl, seeming to mull over the monk's question. He had Mai's full attention. She found an unexpected interest in his answer. Did he think the theater was haunted?

"I don't believe there's reason enough to say that it isn't. Notso definitely. Some unexplainable things have happened. I think closing the case is a bit premature."

"Exactly," Bou-san agreed, finishing his rice, catching Mai's eye. "We're going to be here for the next couple of days still, the least we should do is investigate."

Mai caught his look, the meaning. He was satisfied, reassured. John was on their side.

But it doesn't matter.

The thought struck Mai forcibly. She suddenly felt the full implications of closing the case. It was like a cold bucket of water to the face. It wasn't about what John thought. Naru no longer thought the theater worth investigating.

He's going to announce it's not haunted.

Mai pictured Mr. Miyuki's saddened face and her stomach lurched.

No ghost, no theater.

Mai set her lunch down. She was no longer hungry. The sunny afternoon around her seemed to dim with the impossibilities of the case.

The deal.

The very idea she used to support Mr. Miyuki now mocked her. What good would it do if Naru believed there was no haunting?

But he's wrong.

Mai frowned. This was the hardest part. The secret she was so diligently keeping was going to be the reason the theater closes if they weren't careful.

But wait— that's not right either...

Mai frowned harder, the dream she had had an hour ago rushing back on her.

It isn't Mr. Miyuki haunting the theater.

The discovery was still sinking in, but it didn't change the facts. The theater was haunted. Things had happened, things that had convinced Mr. Sachi and all his actors. There was a second spirit. Mr. Miyuki's final word echoed in her head: Kioko.

Mai set her jaw. They shouldn't be closing the case. They couldn't.

"Uh, Mai? You okay?"

Mai jumped at the touch on her shoulder. Bou-san stared at her concernedly.

"Why are you frowning like that? You're not feeling sick again, are you?"

She looked over at the monk, shaking her head, though she couldn't seem to throw off her heavy thoughts.

He doesn't know.

She only had time to bring up the picture. She hadn't told him about the rest of her dream.

"Mai is probably tired, we should head back," John suggested, standing. He approached her, kindly gathering the remains of her chicken and rice with his own.

Mai thanked him, and nodded in agreement. She wanted nothing more than to get back to the inn and bring Bou-san up to speed.

The three of them walked back across the open field, the long grasses brushing Mai's bare ankles. She glanced back one last time at the derelict theater they were leaving behind them. Her mind hummed with wonder at it's condition, at what she had seen there under the cover of darkness...manhandling. Mai snapped her head around.

That Naru.

Sooner than any of them liked, they merged again with the nosy festival goers. Right on cue, the whispers started. Mai crossed her arms and lead the way through the crowds. With all the unwanted attention she was attracting, she was surprised in the next moment to hear John's name called out.

Mai halted and turned to see John answering and bowing. Across from him was a shady stall, larger than any of the food stands they had past, filled with old women. Mai smiled, recognizing them, and bowed as well. They beckoned him over, and he politely obliged. Mai and Bou-san followed, interestedly.

There was more bowing as they ducked into the stall. Seated on rugs and large pillows, a semi-circle of ancient women nodded back at them, their stooped figures hidden in yards and yards of shimmering fabric. Mai suspected youngest there must be in their eighties, but their hands moved their needles with such deftness and their eyes were so bright and keen that she immediately felt she should proceed with respect and caution.

Mai stood slightly behind John, watching them sew neat stitches without even looking. They were all eyes and smiles for him.

"So, we finally get to see you properly," a woman in the center of the circle chastened, her wrinkles stretched across her face as she grinned.

"I'm sorry, I've been busy. This is—" John began to explain, gesturing to Mai and Bou-san, but he was cut off by a loud cracked voice.

"Your girlfriend, of course. We saw you two up on stage last night. Precious."

John and Mai turned matching shades of pink. Mai quickly waved her hands in denial, and John opened his mouth to correct the woman, but by then another wavering voice had taken up the conversation.

"Yoko, you really have gone blind in your old age haven't you? This one isn't right. His girlfriend is tiny and dark haired."

There were murmurs of 'oh..' and 'that's right' through the group. John was now an even deeper shade of pink,

"Actually, I don't have a girlfriend. This is Mai—"

"Ah, I got it now. She's the girlfriend of that smarmy looking one back there, Yoko," the same woman continued on, speaking to the first woman, pointing a crooked finger.

Mai and John turned their heads, following the direction of this finger, straight to Bou-san. The monk raised his eyebrows, but his surprise quickly morphed into amusement. He smirked and gave Mai a wink.

That Bou-san.

Her face hidden from view, Mai would have stood there glaring at him for the rest of the afternoon if it weren't for the little woman nearest her who began shaking. Mai crouched down next to her wondering if she was alright, but then saw that she was simply disagreeing,

"No, no, no. Who in the world have you been talking to, Asami? Everyone who's anyone knows that she's going steady with the Koku's grandson, that charming Niko boy." The woman stared up at Mai with a shrewd glint in her eyes. "He visited her last night and this morning, isn't that right deary?"

Mai's lips parted and she drew back from the woman, heat rising up her neck.

"How— who told you that...?"

"Huh, pretty on top of things, aren't they?" Bou-san commented, clearly enjoying himself.

Mai sincerely wished she was within reach of his feet.

"Ha! You're all slipping," yet another woman piped up. "Are those ears attached to your heads or not? Do you have buttons for eyes? It's obvious what's really going on. I'll put you all straight. Our sweet John is partnered with Hara-san, such budding feelings— ah, to be young! That smarmy one is insane and thinks he'll have that demon of red-headed woman, you've seen her. And this skinny thing isn't half as busy as this town gives her credit for, Wise Obasan is right. It's only that tall forbidding dark haired one that she's flirting with. Why when she could have Niko, is beyond me. Such poor taste..."

There was a resounding embarrassed silence from the young people's side of the stall. To have all their personal affairs laid out like that, and quite accurately, was more than a little unsettling. But none of the old ladies seemed to notice, they were all murmuring again, getting the story right. Needles popped in and out of their sewing projects, moving as fast as their mouths.

His ears burning as red as hers, Mai could tell John was more than ready to go. He gave a respectful, albeit hurried bow.

"I think we need to be heading back now. Thank you for your time, it was good to see you again."

The gossiping murmurs amongst the women turned to a chorus of complaints.

"You're not leaving are you?"

"You can't! You just got here."

"You're friends can go, but you must stay!"

Mai's gaze fell on a tea tray. A jolt, a spark— a sudden thought occurred to her. She stopped backing out of the stall and a winning smile came over her previously mortified features.

"Look John, tea. We can stay a little longer."

And with that she knelt before the cluster of old women, checking the pot which felt nice and warm, and lined up cups to be poured. Bou-san, who had covered good ground and was now well outside the shady stall, peered in with confusion.

"Uh, but Mai—" he protested meaningfully. His expression clearly said, what are you doing?

John came to sit beside her. He had one curious look to give her, but otherwise set to helping. As she filled cups, he passed them out. General satisfaction now spread between the women. Some even seemed to be thinking better of Mai, commenting on her good manners. But Mai hadn't stayed for compliments. She wanted answers.

"The sewing you're doing, it's very beautiful. Is it for the theater?"

Proud grins cracked over the rims of teacups. The woman in the center of the circle spoke,

"Yes, dear. What would this town do without us, hm?" this last part was put to the ladies around her and they all shared a rumbling chuckle. "Have you seen any of the plays?"

Attention was back on Mai, ten fold as it was not only the grandmothers staring. She could feel Bou-san's eyes practically boring through her, and even John's soft gaze was caught on her...wondering what she was about.

"Yes I have," Mai replied, unable to help a bit of color coming to her cheeks, recalling that one of them had been largely inspired by herself. "It's too bad there won't be one tonight."

There were grunts of agreement. The gathered women drank their tea sullenly. Yoko put their thoughts into words,

"It can't be helped, can it? It's her day, and she made such a fuss about there being no play. Just as well if you ask me though, it's enough that we have to hold a dinner for her. A play would be a waste."

Mai looked up from the final cup of tea she was pouring,

"A waste...?"

"She doesn't deserve it, the wench!" a particularly wrinkled woman at the end of the circle spat. John handed her this last cup of tea and by contrast she thanked him sweetly.

Mai's heart began to beat faster. Though her face didn't betray it, her interest was heightened.

"You don't like her."

It was a statement and it was met with the same grunts as before.

"Why have a festival day dedicated to her then?" she asked, sitting back, her eyes searching the wizened old women before her.

There were unhappy grumbles. Yoko sighed and she suddenly appeared much older,

"To honor her father. We cannot forsake his only daughter."

Mai she squeezed her hands together in her lap. The mention of Mr. Miyuki spurred her next question on,

"Have you always disliked her?"

There was much discontent at this. The old women shifted where they sat, looking uncomfortable with answering. Begrudgingly, the lady on the end spoke again.

"Maybe not always...as a child she seemed fine enough."

Reluctant low mutters of general agreement filled the stall, but the woman who spoke wasn't done. She drew in a long shaking breath, her whole face seemed to harden with contempt,

"But what does that matter? Who could forgive her now?"

The mutters quickly rose in a seething buzz of 'that's right!' and 'too true!'.

Mai and the others were slightly taken aback by the sudden hostile energy. It was as if they were in a hive of disturbed wasps. But Mai understood them, and as they calmed a bit a few moments later, she bowed her head and nodded, respectful to their feelings,

"Of course you don't like her. I'm sorry for what she's trying to do."

A huffy sort of snort met her ears, and Mai raised her head wonderingly. Instead of soothing them into silence, her words seemed to engage them.

"Even if it weren't for the theater my dear, we would still have no reason to like her. Not after what's she's done to Nari."

Mai's heart skipped a beat. This was exactly what she was hoping for. The women before her had been town gossips for decades, better than anyone they would know. They would know all Nozomi's secrets. They would know what drove Mr. Sachi, Miss Miyuki, and Nari apart.

"What has she done to Nari?"

Mai's question caused protest through the circle. It seemed the half of them felt that the subject was closed.

"Bah, don't speak of it!"

"That's enough now, we've talked long enough of this..."

"You'll spoil our tea."

Just as Mai was despairing of getting answers, the woman closest to her raised a hand. The rest quieted.

"We don't like to talk of it, it upsets us. But, since we've said this much, you should hear the whole story. Last spring we were expecting wedding bells. Nari and Mr. Sachi were in love. It was said he bought a ring. They were childhood friends, it was like a fairytale. Well, the time came, on stage that young playwright got right down on his knee, when— who should show up? Her. She ruined everything!"

A mood hung in the air. The tea in their cups had gone cold. Needles popped in and out of fabric in an angry manner.

"Pardon me, but...it was my understanding that Miss Miyuki simply came in at the wrong time."

Mai blinked, and turned her head. John had spoken. His voice was gentle, he was trying to be fair.

The old woman who had spoken smiled dismissively at him,

"Dear child, you weren't there. That horrid woman all but ordered Mr. Sachi off the stage. She ruined the moment and every hope of Nari's. That young playwright never proposed again."

"He got cold feet?" Bou-san, who had been listening quietly in the back, suddenly spoke up.

"The point is," the Yoko woman swooped in, glaring across the stall at the monk, "if Miss Miyuki had been two minutes later or earlier that night, you would have been introduced to a Mrs. Nari Sachi."

"Ah, be done with this. My ears are ringing!"

There was a chorus of loud complaints. Mai realized that her chance had past with a lurch of disappointment. Their answer had not been what she was looking for.

That proposal was not what divided them.

Mai rose from her knees, bowing.

"Thank you for speaking with us."

The expressions on the ancient faces staring back at her softened.

"You're most welcome to visit with John anytime."

Proper smiles were directed at the young priest and he returned them with a bow of his own.

"It was good to see you."

Bou-san, still standing at the stall entrance gave a friendly departing wave,

"Nice to meet you all."

He was met with stony looks. Mai surmised that their invitation didn't include him...

Just before Mai ducked out into the sunshine, a quavering command was called after her.

"Wait."

She stopped and curiously looked back. A stooped old woman stood there holding out something that looked soft and pink,

"This dress is for you. We want you to have it. Your bad taste in men is nothing compared to your bad taste in fashion. We've been watching. Wear this tonight and maybe you won't be whispered about quite as much."

Mai accepted their gift with as much gratitude as she could muster, suspecting that she might have just been insulted. The women sitting further back in the stall all grinned wrinkled grins and nodded graciously.

Mai stepped out and joined John and Bou-san.

"What's that?"

Mai looked from the monk to the dress under her arm.

"Something they wanted me to have."

"They didn't give me anything."

"They don't like you. You're smarmy."

"Old biddies..."

The three of them walked on across the festival grounds. It was slow going as they were moving against foot traffic, but Mai hardly noticed. Her mind was full and she was hoping to sort it all out before they reached the inn.

She had been so sure the old women had the answers she was looking for. Being thwarted like that damaged her confidence and added to that the looming threat of Naru closing the case and what the consequences were..she had to fight to keep a frown off her face.

I need to tell Bou-san.

Eventually, they reached the inn. They said goodbye to John at his door with warm smiles and promises to meet up again at dinner. Next up was Bou-san's room, but Mai tugged him along past it.

The monk cast a fugitive look around,

"Are you inviting me inside? Is that wise, the halls have eyes you know..."

Mai swatted his arm before releasing it to open her door.

"Get in here, we have things to talk about."

He did as he was told, but there was still a teasing smirk pulling at his lips,

"Yeah, like what bad taste you have in men."

Mai snorted, closing the door.

"Obviously, if I'm being connected to you."

"No, I was removed from the triangle. I recall a tall forbidding young man mentioned though."

"There was something about a red-headed demon too."

The two of them stood there in a staring match, before the monk broke it, coming to lean against the wall next to the window. Mai sat on the edge of her bed.

"John's girlfriend."

"I know. Masako. What were they thinking...?"

"They're probably best friends with Wise Obasan."

Mai groaned. It was bad enough that the ancient matchmaker had taken notice herself and Naru.

Not John too...

Her attention turned to the bandages that wrapped her tired feet.

"So, you were trying to find out more about Miss Miyuki? Is that why you dragged out our visit?"

Mai nodded, drawing her legs up on the bed so she could get a proper look.

"I thought if anyone knew about what happened between Miss Miyuki, Mr. Sachi, and Nari, they would know."

"Well, it was worth it. Your hunch was right."

Mai tilted her head at him, doubt written on her face,

"How?"

He caught her expression and rose a wondering eyebrow at her,

"What you do you mean, how? You got them to talk, they had more than enough to say about Miss Miyuki."

Mai shook her head, dissatisfied.

"But it was what we already knew. John told us about us about Nari and Mr. Sachi back when we first got here."

Bou-san crossed his arms in front of himself thoughtfully,

"Yeah, but I hadn't considered it since then. In light of what we know now, it's interesting."

"Maybe...I don't know," she looked up and met his eyes. "Can that really be what drove them apart?"

The monk returned her gaze, reading her knowingly.

"You don't think so?"

She shrugged,

"I don't know. I just feel like there's something else."

Bou-san cracked a smile,

"Another hunch?"

Mai smiled back,

"Yeah."

He sighed, relenting,

"Can't ignore those, can we? Alright, we'll keep looking for answers, see if there's more to their story."

Pleased with this agreement and with how her bandages were holding up, Mai's priorities shifted. Her gaze traveled the room. It was still a mess. Ayako had tidied her clothes, but the trays of food from that morning were still piled in the corner, her dress from the night before was in a heap on the floor, her bedding had been mostly kicked off and was strewn about the place.

"Bou-san, about my dream," Mai began, gathering lost pillows, broaching the subject that had been weighing on her ever since she had woke up in that office.

The monk followed her lead, straightening her sheets,

"Hm?"

"I told you about the picture, but that wasn't the only clue."

Bou-san paused struggling with the sheet. He looked across the bed at her,

"There's more?"

Mai nodded slowly.

"What?"

"Mr. Miyuki isn't haunting the theater."

He dropped the sheet.

"What?"

Mai met his wide eyes,

"I don't know how I didn't notice before. It's not him. He would never terrorize his theater, his actors. It's not him Bou-san."

The monk stared back her, dumbfounded. He waved a hand at her.

"Wait, hold up a second. He told you that?"

"In his own way. Everything that's happened in the theater. It hasn't been his doing."

Bou-san's hand fell to his side, his eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"He's there...but he's not the one haunting his theater. It's someone...something else?"

"Kioko."

Mai's answer came as a final blow. Disbelief was etched across the monk's face,

"Excuse me?"

"It's Kioko, Bou-san. I asked him. His answer was Kioko."

The monk gave up making the bed and sat on the edge of it.

"But Mai...Miss Miyuki's alive."

Mai heaved a sigh, and sank into the mattress opposite him,

"I know, Bou-san— I know."

There was a moment of silence between them, filled with their breathing. Doors opened and closed down the hall.

"What does it mean then?"

The monk was the first to speak, summarizing her thoughts exactly.

Mai shrugged helplessly.

"Because we can't take that answer literally."

"I know."

"It makes no sense."

"I know."

"She's can't haunt if she isn't dead."

"I know Bou-san, I don't understand it either."

"You must have misheard, hm? Or misunderstood?"

"Maybe..."

"There's a reason he keeps pushing us to investigate her, right? She's got to know. She must know who's really haunting the theater."

Mai looked up from her hands to the monk. She could hear certainty creeping back into his voice. He was building a theory.

"You asked who's haunting the theater, and he answered Kioko, right?"

Mai nodded, her full attention captured, his energy was contagious.

"He said Kioko, because she's the one who knows. Not the one haunting. You just didn't understand because the guy is rusty at putting sentences together."

Bou-san stood and began to pace,

"We need more answers. I'll get close to her at dinner tonight, it all must piece together, the picture Mr. Miyuki showed you, this second ghost..."

Mai felt some of the enthusiasm he had inspired ebb from her. The mention of dinner reminded her of lunch.

It doesn't matter.

"Bou-san, Naru's closing the case."

The monk paused in the middle of the floor.

"I know Mai, I heard. I was there."

Seeing her expression, he approached her. Reassuringly he squeezed her arm,

"It's alright. Since when do we care what Naru does?"

Mai pursed her lips, shaking her head,

"You don't understand. If he closes the case, the theater closes."

Bou-san's hand released her arm, his brows furrowed,

"How..?"

"That's the deal. Between Mr. Sachi and Miss Miyuki. Remember? The theater will close if SPR doesn't prove there's a haunting."

Hearing the defeat in her voice, Bou-san took both of her shoulders in his hands,

"Mai, we've won already then, because we know there's a haunting."

"Naru doesn't."

The monk blinked, the seriousness of those two words sinking in.

"He will know. We'll prove it to him."

Mai bit her lip and looked up at him in doubt.

"We know nothing about it this spirit. We've never even seen it."

"We'll find it."

"We have three days."

"Plenty of time."

Mai opened her mouth again...but all that came out was a long sigh that ruffled her bangs.

"Plenty, huh?" she smiled.

The monk smiled back, his hands giving her shoulders an extra squeeze before letting go.

"Plenty."

Banishing her worry for the time being, Mai's gaze moved from her partner to the unmade bed she sat on. Purposefully she bent down and gathered the comforter rumpled at her feet,

"So, what's our plan then?"

Bou-san took up a corner of the blanket.

"It's easy, I take Miss Miyuki for all she's worth and we convince Naru not to close the case."

Mai raised an eyebrow at him,

"Easy? You do realize who our targets are...?"

"Same as last night, and we did just fine."

"You're just going to ask Miss Miyuki over dinner if she happens to know who's haunting the theater?"

"You left out questioning her about how she could ditch her best friends."

"Bou-san"

He met her eyes and relented,

"I'm going to wine and dine her, Mai. It'll be a subtle job, she'll never even know what I'm getting at. Trust me."

Finishing smoothing out the bedding, Mai tossed a pillow at the monk across from her.

"What about Naru? You can't wine and dine him."

"You're right, I can't..."

Mai shot him a look, which he acknowledged with a smirk,

"We go for a different approach. We need evidence."

Mai paused, staring down at the pillow she held in her hands. Something was stirring at the back of her mind...

"Evidence..."

"Yeah, the ghostly kind. It's time to show him what he's missing."

Mai's heart skipped a beat, her head lifted and she locked eyes with Bou-san,

"We can't."

The monk faltered putting the final pillow in place,

"What?"

Mai shook her head, her heart beating against her ribs as a saddened face surfaced in her mind, a finger pressed to it's lips.

I almost forgot.

"The secret, Bou-san."

"The secret...?" her partner repeated, confusion plainly written on his face, the pillow he was adjusting abandoned.

"Mr. Miyuki's secret."

There was a beat and then a single nod. He remembered. Mai watched him, his brows furrowed. He seemed to struggle with the idea. But then, just as quickly as it clouded, his face cleared.

"Mai, tell me again about your dream."

"My dream...?"

"What was the last thing Mr. Miyuki told you?"

"He isn't haunting the theater."

The monk smiled, his confidence returning,

"Exactly."

Mai blinked in surprise, confused by his change in attitude.

"What—"

"It's just what you said. Mr. Miyuki isn't haunting the theater. We can still keep his secret. Naru never has to know about him, does he?"

Mai set her pillow down and laid back on the newly made bed, thinking hard.

"You're right."

Her partner looked down at her with a wink,

"Of course I am. You should listen to me more."

She frowned at the ceiling

"But, what about Kioko?" Mai suddenly sat up, her hair falling in her eyes, "She's Mr. Miyuki's daughter, if she has something to do with this haunting... doesn't that mean Mr. Miyuki's still involved? Are we really free of keeping the secret?"

"You agreed with me a whole two seconds. It's a world record," the monk muttered, crossing his arms as he mused over her argument.

"Bou-san, I want to agree. I really do. I don't know how we'll save the theater if we can't convince Naru. But, you haven't seen him, Mr. Miyuki's face— when he pleads with me. There must be a good reason for keeping his secret. I can't betray him, even accidentally."

Seeing her expression, Bou-san let out a long breath. He uncrossed his arms and gestured soothingly,

"Okay, okay. Nobody said anything about betrayal. Let's take this one step at a time. We need more answers. Kioko is the one who knows them, so it makes sense to start with her. I'll work my magic at dinner. I'll get everything I can from her...and we'll go from there."

Mai tilted her head,

"What about me, what should I do?"

The monk reached over and ruffled her hair,

"Take the night off. You deserve it."

Mai made a face, about to protest, but Bou-san spoke first, pointing a finger at her,

"I mean it. Just think what Ayako would say if she knew that not only did I let you run around Nozomi fresh from your death bed, but also had you spend the night on a recon mission? What if you get sicker and relapse? That's not going on my head." Mai saw him shudder from the consequences flashing before his eyes, "Rest, and I'll be back later."

Taking pity on him, knowing exactly what those consequences could be when it came to a certain red-headed demon, Mai leaned back against the pillows compliantly.

"That's it. Get some sleep...and who knows? Maybe Mr. Miyuki will visit you again and decide to explain everything?"

Mai's smile was interrupted by a yawn.

I guess I am tired...

"I'll pick you up for dinner, see you in a bit."

With that, the monk left her room, the scent of sandalwood and cologne lingering in his wake.

Mai's next blink was long, and the next longer...

Mai startled awake, her eyes flew open. Someone was rattling her door handle. Disoriented, she brushed her bangs out of her eyes and gingerly scooted to the edge of her bed. Outside the window the sky was turning lavender and blue.

How long did I sleep...?

"Who is it?"

A curtain of red hair appeared through the door, followed by the rest of Ayako, "It's me. Did I wake you?"

"It's okay, I slept longer then I meant too."

With the click of high-heels against the hard wood floor, the miko approached her. She was dressed for dinner, wearing a white crop top and pencil skirt.

"Have any good dreams?"

Mai stiffened.

Dreams?

Her gaze, which had been inspecting Ayako's outfit, snapped to her face.

"What?"

The miko halted, standing in the middle of the room. She raised an eyebrow.

"I asked how your dreams were...isn't that the polite thing to say when you wake someone up?"

Mai cleared her throat, feeling her pulse slow.

She doesn't know.

"Oh. Thanks. They were fine I guess. I don't really remember..."

Ayako considered her,

"What's with you?"

Mai curled her hair behind her ears, attempting to recover,

"Nothing, what are you talking about?"

Hand on hip, Ayako continued towards Mai, her eyes narrowed,

"You look like you've just seen a ghost."

Ghost?

Mai's heart skipped a beat, quickly she ducked her head, feigning interest in the bedding.

"Ha, ha. A ghost...right."

"You're pale and jumpy, are you not feeling well?"

"I'm fine, I'm just not awake yet," Mai persisted, summoning up a reassuring smile as the miko sat down beside her.

"Well, let's see about that."

Facing her, Ayako brought a hand to her forehead, then cheeks. After a moment she gave a nod.

"When was the last time you took any medicine?"

"Last night."

"Good. Give me your wrist."

Mai did was she was told. The miko's nails were a rich red against her white skin.

"That's what you did today? You got a manicure?"

Ayako, staring at the watch she held in her free hand, gave a silent bob of the head. Another concentrated moment passed and then she answered,

"Naru said to take the day off. I went looking for what the people in this town might call a salon. It turns out Nari's mother is a fair beautician. For two thousand yen she'll give you a full set in her living room."

"Nari's mom?" Mai repeated, careful not to move as her wrist was still being held.

"Uh-huh. But if you're thinking about it for yourself, you'll have to wait. She'll only see a few people a day and Masako took the last appointment for tomorrow."

Mai shifted suddenly, earning her a scolding look from the miko,

"Masako? Nobody's seen her since yesterday."

"I took a walk. I ran into her out at the lilies fields surrounding here."

Mai fidgeted. Surely Ayako was almost done...?

"What was she doing?"

"I don't know...avoiding John probably."

"What?"

"Come on, is it that surprising? You know the only person she wants to be rumored with is Naru."

Mai pursed her lips.

That Masako.

"That's too bad for her though. The only person he's rumored to be with is you."

Caught off guard, Mai flushed. Collecting herself, she cleared her throat,

"There's nothing between me and Naru."

"Liar. Your pulse just sky-rocketed."

Mai pulled her arm away.

"Is that what was taking you so long? You were conducting some kind of lie detecting test on me?"

"Don't get so worked up. I wouldn't have to if you would just tell me what's going on."

That Ayako.

"It's Naru. What do you think is going on?"

"I don't know, I can only imagine what would cause him to make you breakfast."

Mai opened and closed her mouth. Her eyes fell on the tray sitting over Ayako's shoulder.

"He...what?"

"Made you breakfast. Or rather, had the kitchen make you breakfast. Then handed it off to me. But, what am I— his secretary? So I gave it to Bou-san. He delivered it, didn't he?"

Mai blinked, staring at the remains of the porridge and satsumas she had enjoyed. Following her gaze, Ayako looked back over her own shoulder, a note of exasperation entered her voice,

"Don't tell me he ate it—"

"Just the toast."

Ayako snorted knowingly. There was a pause and then...

"Wait— is that two trays...?"

"Yes."

"Niko?"

"Yeah, how did you...?"

"Poor guy. Doesn't know when to quit the field, does he?"

Mai crossed her arms, and brought her attention back to the miko,

"We're just friends."

"Somebody should let him know."

"Naru and I are—"

"Flirting?"

"Barely talking."

Ayako stood from the bed, and then knelt in front of Mai. She began to carefully inspect her injured feet, but her expression remained thoroughly unconvinced.

"If that's your story..."

Mai stared down at the crown of miko's head, flustered, but then a memory was triggered: Ayako, knelling much the same way, asleep, a hand reaching out towards her...

"What's yours then?"

Ayako expertly re-wrapped Mai's right foot.

"What are you talking about?"

"Your story."

Ayako took up Mai's left foot and shot Mai a look in the process,

"My story?"

"About what happened this morning."

Ayako paused a moment. Mai couldn't be sure, but she thought she noticed some color tinge the miko's cheeks. Her voice was sharper and more dismissive than before,

"You mean about being dead tired and achy after taking care of you all night, that story?"

Mai was undeterred.

Eye for an eye.

"No, I mean the one where I woke up to find Bou-san carrying you from my room."

Ayako wrapped up Mai's left foot tighter than her right. There was definitely color in the woman's cheeks.

"I never asked him to do that. I woke in the hall and let him have it. Ask him, I bet his ears are still ringing."

"If that's your story..."

The two locked eyes, Mai triumphant, Ayako annoyed.

The miko stood, finished with her ministrations.

"You seem to be fully recovered."

Mai nodded, relieved,

"Thank you."

"You better get dressed now. Dinner won't wait for us."

Mai slipped off the bed and began casting her eyes around for the dress she had been given. Following her lead, Ayako started to look as well.

"Which is it tonight? Please tell me Mrs. Koku didn't lend you another dress. You looked liked my grandmother in that thing."

Mai glared at the back of the miko's head, her face heating up a bit.

It wasn't Mrs. Koku, but...

"Worry about yourself, you look like you're dressed as some pop idol."

"Excuse me, this is in-style. Not that you would know. Hey, is this it?"

Ayako held up a pink dress, it's tulle skirt fluttering.

"This one is kind of cute actually, if your going for that girl-next-door look. Which after last night, is probably a good move for you..."

Mai snatched the dress out of her hand, frowning as she recalled the distracting thing she had been put in.

"I'll just wait here, let me know when you're ready for makeup," the miko quipped agreeably to Mai's back as she retreated into the bathroom.

Mai shut the bathroom door with one last dark look thrown at Ayako and then faced the mirror. What she saw in her reflection was entirely different from what she had seen just twenty-four hours before.

There was a natural pink to replace her pale pallor. Her eyes were no longer glazed over, but instead stared back bright and awake.

Mai made quick work of her clothes. She folded them in a neat pile and then stepped into her new dress. The tulle skirt was light and brushed gently against her bare legs, coming to about knee length. The bodice was made of satin, sleeveless, and modestly cut straight across, touching her collar bone. It was when Mai reached to zip up that she noticed it. There was no back.

Surprised, she turned and studied herself in the mirror. There was a delicate clasp at the neck to hold the top in place, but rest of the dress was entirely open.

Oh.

Mai was still staring when the bathroom door swung open.

"Well that's not my grandmother's dress."

Mai faced Ayako, gesturing behind her.

"I had no idea it was like that when they gave it to me."

Ayako approached her, motioning her to turn back around. Mai felt her fingers fastening the clasp at her neck.

"Business in the front, party in the back, hm?"

"I guess."

"Niko's going to get a nose bleed."

"Ayako"

"I wonder if Naru more of a leg guy or a back guy? I guess you'll find out. Don't make that face, I'm putting on your makeup."

Just as Ayako was applying Mai's lipstick there was a knock at her room door.

"Mai? Can I come in?"

"Door's open!"

The miko stood back to admire her handy work and gave a nod of approval. There was a low whistle and Mai looked up to see Bou-san standing in the bathroom doorway.

"Pretty in pink. Those old biddies have some style after all, huh?"

"Old biddies?" Ayako repeated, putting the makeup away.

"Mai can't seem to get enough of matchmakers. We visited Nozomi's seamstresses today. Charming ladies."

Mai noticed the way Bou-san's gaze strayed to Ayako's bare mid-riff. She smirked.

They made be uncouth, but they're not stupid.

"So it really is an old lady dress," the miko remarked, thoughtfully sizing her up again.

"Hey, you said it was cute."

"Luckily it is. Really, the people you associate with..." Ayako threw a significant look at Bou-san and breezed out of the bathroom.

Mai followed her, and ignoring the comment, she took up the monk's arm.

"Come on, let's go get some dinner."

"Whoa, hold up—"

"Hm?"

Mai stopped and blinked at Bou-san confusedly as he suddenly circled around her.

"The back of your dress. It's missing."

Mai sighed.

"I noticed, Bou-san."

The monk took up her arm again,

"That seals it. Those old biddies are definitely in cahoots in with Wise Obasan, why else would they give you something so distracting to wear?"

Mai frowned and the monk grinned. Standing at the door, Ayako watched with a raised eyebrow.

"Enjoying yourselves? Are we going then?"

Bou-san, pulled open the door and waved a free hand,

"Ladies first."

The miko snorted and stalked out. Still grinning, he closed the door behind them.

As they had grown accustom to, the hallway they entered was full of excited people. The buzz of many voices pressed against Mai's ears but there was another something she heard just over it that she couldn't place.

When it happened a third time, Mai tugged on Bou-san's arm and pointed up at the ceiling, tilting her head questioningly.

"What is that?"

The monk paused to listen, and then hearing it, answered,

"Thunder. A storm's been rolling in for the last hour. No rain yet, but you can sure smell it coming. It's a good thing the festival's indoors tonight."

Wading through the crowds they reached John's room just as he was coming out. Their group now fully assembled, they past the dining hall and headed for the lobby. Every now and then there was a shocked comment whispered behind Mai ("Look at that dress..." "She's out with both men at the same time...?!"), which she pretended not to hear.

Emerging from the inn Mai immediately understood what the monk had meant by smelling the rain. There was a kind of energy in the air that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Looking up at sky, she could see indigo clouds gathering in the falling dusk. Distant thunder rolled.

Following the lantern lit path toward the theater, under rows and rows of strung up lilies, Mai leaned towards Bou-san.

"What's your plan again?"

Noting her confidential tone, he leaned in his head as well,

"Get chatty with Miss Miyuki. I know my theory is right, Mai. She has the answers. I just have to get them from her."

"And you really think you can do that over dinner?"

"Come on, you act like you don't know how charming I can be?"

"Charming or smarmy?"

"Same thing."

"Are you sure you don't need any help?"

"None. You just sit back and watch the master at work."

At his wink Mai had no choice but to relent.

That Bou-san.

Turning her attention back to the crowd in front of her, she found that they had reached the front steps outside the theater. The mass of people swelled here in unruly order as they all tried to funnel in. Mai's gaze landed on the double doors just as a fork of lightning lit up the darkness.

"Hm—?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry— excuse me..." Mai apologized, having distractedly run into the person ahead of her.

"No, it's no problem...oh, it's you Mai."

Mai blinked, face to face with Masako. As usual she was impeccably dressed in a fine kimono, this one red and gold, appearing entirely unaffected by the humidity.

"Hi Masako," Bou-san greeted, noticing her as impatient festival goers weaved past. She gave a bob of the head and greeted him back.

Mai took in her rival standing there at the bottom of the steps alone. It occurred to her that she must have paused there purposefully. She had an air of waiting.

For Naru probably...

Mai glanced at the faces around them, but none belonged to their boss.

"Hmph."

Bou-san looked over at her,

"What?"

"Was that a cough...are you not better?" Masako asked, her dark eyes briefly flitting to Mai.

"Ayako says I'm fine."

This answer seemed to satisfy. Her attention was again elsewhere, traveling over the crowd.

"Ugh, do you feel that? It's starting to rain. What's the hold up here? This outfit is dry-clean only."

Ayako suddenly appeared behind them. Seeing who it was blocking the way, she unapologetically pushed her way past Bou-san.

Mai wiped at a drop that fell on her forehead.

"We were just heading up," she answered, and took a better hold of her partner's arm.

"Ready?" Bou-san asked meaningfully, glancing at their destination.

Mai smiled and nodded, but then—

"What about you Masako? Who are you going in with?"

The doors. Mai knew they affected her too. She wouldn't want to go through them alone.

Bou-san immediately extended his free arm, looking to give his assistance, but Mai knew from the stubborn look in the medium's eyes, she was going to decline, Naru is coming...

"I'll help."

The throng of people swarming the stairs parted, and there John stood, his kind stare settled on Masako. Mai watched her rival swallow the protests waiting on her lips. She nodded politely and reached out her hand.

"Thank you."

Mai turned around and began to climb the steps. Nearly at the top, she noticed that Ayako had paused to look back at the scene below. Mai caught her eye and the two shared a look.

That Masako.

Then she was suddenly at the doors...and walking through them, urged on by the mass of people streaming in behind her.

Mai felt a jolt in her stomach. Nausea, dizziness, all the usual suspects assailed her. Her fingers gripped Bou-san, she made to squeeze her eyes shut— but then she saw him.

Naru.

He was staring. Mai felt her arm tingle. Flustered, she broke eye contact.

"Feeling better?"

Mai glanced up at her partner, "Hm?"

"You were real pale there for a minute, but you seem to have got your color back. You're almost as pink as your dress."

"I'm fine. It's just stuffy in here. Do you see John and Masako, we should join them..."

"Hey, there's Naru."

Mai carefully studied the floor,

"Oh, where?"

"Over by the auditorium doors, Ayako, Lin, and Mr. Sachi are with him. Come on."

Arm and arm with Bou-san, Mai was lead across the room. She brushed past damp festival goers, excusing herself repeatedly. She had never seen the theater so full.

Is this what it was like when Mr. Miyuki was alive?

"Ah! There you two are," Mr. Sachi greeted as they approached. In his usual style, the young playwright was dressed to impress, sporting a midnight-blue dress shirt with matching handkerchief in his pocket, crisp black slacks, and polished shoes, "Wait— is Masako not with you? We'll be seating soon..."

Mai fixed her attention on Mr. Sachi's anxious expression, making a great effort in not letting her gaze stray to the man standing on his right.

"Masako is with John, they were just behind us."

"John?" Mr. Sachi repeated.

Bou-san rose a hand, interrupting.

"Seating soon? I thought there was no play tonight?"

The playwright adjusted his cufflinks with a sigh,

"Unfortunately, you're right. But there's still the opening ceremony."

Bou-san's brows furrowed,

"What about the dinner?"

"Apparently it's after," Ayako announced from her spot on the other side of Mr. Sachi, her tone irritated. She took the clutch she had under her arm and began digging through it. A moment later she pulled out a couple wrappers. Opening one and popping something in her mouth, she tossed the other at the monk, "Here, have a mint."

"Masako, there you are. Just in time!"

The playwright stepped forward towards the medium who had just emerged from the crowd. Masako gave the briefest of nods towards him, and then her eyes shifted. Mai followed them straight to...

That Masako.

"Good evening, Naru."

"Hara-san."

"Right then, if you'd follow me— we'll get seated. The ceremony is about to start," Mr. Sachi continued, holding out a hand to Masako, perfectly oblivious to her inattention.

"Seated? I thought we were going to dinner?" John spoke up from beside Masako.

John's question, directed at Mr. Sachi, seemed to fall on deaf ears. The young playwright's focus was solely on the medium in front of him. His hand hovered, open and waiting. He smiled encouragingly.

"Shall we? We don't want to be late."

John looked between the two of them. Quietly, he re-assumed his hold of Masako's arm.

"You're right. Please, lead the way."

Masako blinked, confusion seemed to cloud her features, but an instant later her expression cleared. Her fingers closed around John's sleeve purposefully. Mr. Sachi's hand returned to his side. For a baffled moment he simply stared, then seeming to remember his duties as host, cleared his throat and answered,

"Well, if you'll follow me..."

The playwright turned from them and opened the auditorium doors. Their group followed, the rest of the theater just behind them.

"Huh," Bou-san murmured, "Maybe those old biddies are on to something after all...?"

Mai blinked, her attention preoccupied by the scene she had watched. The medium picking the priest over the playwright.

"Hm?"

"John and Masako," the monk spoke, as if reading her mind, nodding towards them.

Mai studied their linked figures walking ahead.

John and Masako?

Thunder, the buzz of voices, and the rustle of people hurrying to their seats filled the auditorium. Mr. Sachi lead them past rows and rows of benches, toward the very front. Mai looked from the aisle to the stage, lit by electric light that night, which seemed odd and out of place. Curious, she craned her neck to look up at the usual source of lighting. The many skylights above her were dark, splattered with rain. Lightning flashed across them.

"Here we are."

Mai stopped at the bench Mr. Sachi indicated, just a few yards from the stage. After some arranging, SPR took their seats with Mai, Bou-san, Masako, and John in one row, and Ayako, Lin, and Naru sitting in the next.

Mr. Sachi, adjusting his cuff links again, excused himself, explaining they needed him backstage. He paused before leaving them, his gaze lingering on Masako, as if he wished to ask her to go with him, but in the next instant he was gone.

Finally settled, Mai entertained herself by watching the passerby flow into the auditorium, the room was already near capacity and still they came. Mai scanned the benches around her, creaking under the weight of so many, but saw no familiar faces. Feeling the relief of avoiding Wise Obasan, Mrs. Koku, and John's seamstresses, Mai turned back to the stage just as the spotlights dimmed.

Nari stepped on stage. A light applause grew for the beloved actress and she gently waved it away as she approached a microphone.

"Good evening Nozomi," she greeted, her sweet voice reaching through the whole room.

There was more applause, and murmured greetings back.

"Tonight marks the close of the fourth day. I can't believe we're more than half-way through the festival. Where does the time go?"

Mai shifted in her seat, her hands squeezing together in her lap.

Only three more days left.

Bou-san stretched a casual arm behind Mai,

"It's a good thing I only need tonight to crack this case wide open," he whispered, reading the anxiety on his partner's face.

Mai broke her gaze away from Nari's petite form to smile at the monk, his confidence having an effect despite her nerves.

"Leave it all to me."

"Shh!"

"What? Ow—"

Bou-san's arm sprang from it's place resting across Mai's shoulders. The monk snapped around in his seat, facing the people lined up on the bench behind them. An older woman and her two daughters leered at him.

"Don't you have any manners young man?"

"Excuse me? Oy, you just poked me in the arm—"

"You should be paying attention, Miss Nari is speaking. Cuddle and whisper sweet nothings in private."

Sweet nothings?!

Mai turned around and began waving her hands,

"No, it's not like that at all—"

"Shh!"

Mai turned back around, her arms crossed. Ignoring Bou-san's amused grin, she scooted a few inches over.

On stage, as the woman had so rudely pointed out, Nari was still speaking. Quickly, Mai attempted to catch up.

"...but while growth is the spirit being represented today, let us acknowledge the other spirits of the festival. Representing the creativity of Mr. Miyuki, is Niko Koku—"

From off stage, emerged the young heir. He waved and smiled in response to the applause of the audience. Mai clapped along and pretended not to see the look Ayako threw back at her from the row in front.

That Ayako.

"Yes, thank you Niko. He makes an excellent Mr. Miyuki. I myself have been selected by all of you to represent Yoshi Miyuki, I am honored, thank you very much," here Nari bowed her head to another burst of applause, allowing a moment before righting herself and continuing, "And finally, our newest honorees, representing union— John Brown and Hara, Masako."

The actress waved an elegant hand towards the audience and the stage lights swung towards the bench Mai sat on. Blinking in the dazzling light, she glanced down the row, past Bou-san, towards Masako and John. There was a beat of uncertainty, neither seeming to understand the sudden attention at first, but then John stood and, as was his habit that night, offered an arm to his partner.

Recovering her composure, Masako accepted his arm and then two left the bench amongst clapping and the buzz of whispering voices.

Wasn't Wise Obasan's Chosen supposed to be that other couple...?

Yes, that flirty girl and that severe looking young man.

Mai stared straight ahead, carefully avoiding Bou-san's eyes, and was relieved when the lights turned away from her.

John and Masako joined Niko. Nari motioned for quiet and spoke again,

"And now, give me leave to introduce our guest of honor, attending her honorary day of this festival for the very first time. Miss Toki Miyuki."

The crowd was murmuring again, halfhearted applause rose in pockets. The curtains at the back of the stage parted and out walked two figures: Miss Miyuki, and Mr. Sachi escorting her. It was plain, even from a distance, it was a formality that neither of them liked. As much space as possible was kept between them, Miss Miyuki's hand barely resting on Mr. Sachi's stiff arm.

A vision, a flash of memory— the photo in Mr. Miyuki's office. Squished bodies and friendly smiles. Mai frowned in wonder.

What happened between them...?

Miss Miyuki was lead to stand beside Niko. Mai felt the collective eyes of the theater focus on the heiress. There she was before them, on a stage she meant to demolish. Disgruntled tension charged the air just as the lightening did outside. Mr. Sachi approached the mic, his interactions with Nari warm as they exchanged places.

"Ah, hello everyone," the playwright greeted.

The room echoed the greeting back.

"We're just a short time away from our dinner, so graciously provided by the Koku's tonight—"

There was eager applause.

Bou-san groaned in longing. Mai had heard his stomach growl three times while Nari was speaking.

"But first, let us hear from our last speaker, visiting us for this special occasion— Mr. Miyuki."

Mai's heart suddenly skipped a beat. Mr. Sachi's words came to her as if on delay.

Mr. Miyuki?

Bou-san locked eyes with her just as a renewed burst of applause erupted from around the auditorium.

It can't be.

Mr. Sachi stepped away from the mic, smiling and clapping, his attention towards the left side of the stage. A moment later a man emerged from the curtain.

Mai squinted into the bright stage lights, her breath held— finally a face distinguished itself through the glare.

Tall. Peppered hair, cut tidy and neat.

Not Mr. Miyuki.

Then who...?

"Good evening," the man spoke, his voice gravely, but clear, "I am here tonight because I've been asked to speak a few words."

The crowd quieted respectfully. There was a feeling of intent listening.

"In absence of my nephew, I will say what he cannot."

Mai blinked, only one word registering: nephew.

That means this man is...

"My great-niece was always a favorite of her father. I believe she is what truly rooted him to this town, what kept him returning no matter how far he traveled. As she grew, so did his theaters in popularity, and though he was frequently away on business, I've never known a man so devoted to his child."

Risking the wrath of the woman behind them, Bou-san leaned towards Mai.

"He's her great-uncle?"

Mai let out the breath she was holding, the answer to her question sinking in. Her gaze flicked to the heiress. There was no smile in the woman's blue eyes, her expression stony. Her great-uncle continued on.

"...some wonderful shots, displayed in his home. One in particular was his favorite. The photo was taken when Kioko was still a small child, out in their family garden. He kept it in his study and when I used to visit, I'd often find him gazing at it."

The picture.

Mai stiffened, and beside her she felt the monk do the same. Her heart was pounding, and the rain seemed determined to keep pace, battering the skylights above. For a moment the old man's voice was nearly drowned out.

"...being a father helped him to grow as a person, his plays took on richer emotion. One of his most successful is a touching story of a father and daughter, is it not?"

Drip.

Mai swiped at her shoulder. Something cold, something wet, touched her.

"...naturally she was always in the theater. Maybe not on stage, but busy about the costume department. It is little wonder what sparked her interest in fashion. Her father would be proud to see what she has accomplished."

Drip.

A shiver ran down Mai's bare back. She turned her head to examine her shoulder and the new spot that had landed there.

Rain?

Mai shifted where she sat, staring up at the rain splattered window above her. Thunder shook the panes of glass, lightening flashed.

A light buzz was building in the room, Mai heard it like a whisper in her ear.

Did you feel that?

Feel what?

I think the roof is leaking.

In the row in front of her, Mai noticed Ayako reach to touch the top of her head, studying the hand she drew away.

Drip.

Drip.

Mai's other shoulder was now wet. She moved back to her original position, distracted. Miss Miyuki's great-uncle was still speaking. She strained to take in his every word, but with this rain—

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Mai hunched her shoulders, frowning up at the ceiling. Rain splattered against her cheek.

"Ugh—" she recoiled, wiping at her face.

The buzz in Mai's ears grew louder. Voices other than that of the man on stage spoke.

"Oy, what—?"

Bou-san grabbed at the back of his neck. Instantly, his head snapped around to glare at the women behind them.

Mai stared down at her hand, her eyes narrowing. There was something on her fingers. Her heart began to race again.

Slowly she brought her hand to her nose.

Drip.

Thump.

She breathed in...

Drip.

Thump.

A copper tang stung her nose. Mai lurched back, gasping.

This isn't rain.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

It's blood.

The buzz in Mai's ears intensified. For a moment she thought it was her own pulse, but then she heard the screams. She stood.

"Bou-san—" she cried, turning to him, but he was already moving.

He jumped the bench in front of them. It was empty. Four rows ahead was Naru, clearing bench after bench, rushing towards the stage.

Mai's gaze took in the chaos happening there. Mr. Sachi was shouting words she couldn't hear above the shouting of the audience, ushering a disoriented Mr. Miyuki away from the mic. John had thrown himself over Masako, his jacket draped over her head, his white shirt quickly becoming stained crimson.

Bang!

Mai jumped, her heart turning over in her chest. The theater was plunged into darkness. Mai's eyes darted to the source of the sound and then she froze.

As if in slow motion she saw it. Lit by fork of lightening, a stage light the size of an air conditioner fell through the air, directly above Nari.

Mai opened her mouth, but her scream lodged in her throat.

She stared, horrified, but unable to look away.

It was all over in split second.

Mai closed her mouth.

She continued to stare, but in amazement.

The light had missed Nari.

Mai felt her legs go weak with relief. But her heart was still skipping beats. Blood rained down, people shoved their way to the auditorium doors in a panicked frenzy.

"Mai!"

There was a sharp yank on her arm, but she didn't respond. A voice in the back of her mind had begun to ask questions. How was this all happening?

A terrible thought occurred to her.

The other ghost.

"Mai, come on!"

Another yank and Mai moved. Fingers sporting rich red nails wrapped tightly around her arm.

Ayako.

Mai's feet followed the miko automatically.

The other ghost.

Ayako pushed her way through the auditorium doors and pulled Mai into a room brimming with frightened people. The trauma of the night was clearly written on their faces, but Mai could only look at their clothes.

Blood.

Ayako released Mai's arm. Raising her hands she spoke over the din,

"Everyone listen, I need to know who here has been injured—"

Mai studied herself. Her shoulders were a sickening red, the smell of them almost too much for her to bare.

How is there still blood?

Lin walked into the room, his face serious. He acknowledged Ayako, and then began addressing the crowd.

"Lines need to be formed, we are all going to move to the banquet hall."

Mai stumbled back a step, her head swimming from a combination of confusion and nausea.

A presence, the whisper of clothing. The smell of tea.

A cool touch against her palm, fingers closed around hers.

"Come with me."

Mai was lead away from the lobby. She stared at the back of Naru's head unseeing. They reached based without her really knowing it.

The other ghost.

Mai was brought to the sink she usually made tea at. For a hysterical moment that's what she thought she was being asked to do, and she turned to her boss to protest, but swallowed her words in the next moment as he came from behind to lean over her.

Her bare back pressed to his chest, she felt him reach past her to turn the faucet on. Hot water steamed out.

"Wash your hands off."

Mai nodded and reached for the soap, but struggled to get any out. Like a TV with bad reception, thoughts of the other ghost kept flashing in and out of her head, making her disoriented.

Naru's hands suddenly covered hers. He pumped the soap, and began to scrub. Mai watched scarlet water drain down the sink. It was then she noticed it. His labored breathing. Maybe she wouldn't have if he were across the room, but he was really leaning against her. She felt his every breath, ragged and shallow.

Naru?

He turned off the water. Taking her elbow he guided to one of the arm chairs in the room.

"Here, finish up."

A white cloth, damp, was placed in her hands. Mai blinked, staring up at him properly for the first time. He was pale. Concerned, she opened her mouth to ask if he was alright, but he turned his back to her and walked toward the window.

Frowning, watching him, she rubbed at her stained shoulders. He came to a stop and propped up himself against a wall. There was period of silence, of her halfheartedly attempting to clean herself off, and him leaning, his eyes closed.

"Are you done?"

Mai lowered the cloth from her shoulder. Most of the blood was now gone.

"Yes, thank you."

"Good."

He pushed himself off from the wall and turned back towards her, but his movements were strained. He seemed to be exerting a lot of energy just putting one foot in front of the other. Mai bit her lip, her anxiety rising.

"Naru—" she began.

He took the cloth from her hands.

"Everyone is meeting in the banquet hall. Come when you're ready."

Mai watched him leaving with a pounding heart. Her eyes on the bloody cloth in his hand, her mind changed tracks. Fear flowed through her veins.

The other ghost.

What if we're all in danger?

Does he know?

She licked her lips, drew in a deep breath—

"You haven't seen anything have you?"

Naru's hand caught the door frame. He turned his head, his eyes locking with hers.

"You mean like what you've been seeing since we arrived here?"

Mai felt her heart rise into her throat.

This was a mistake.

Naru left the doorway.

"Are you asking if I've seen Mr. Miyuki?"

"No—"

"Have you?"

"Naru—" she faltered.

He was standing in front her her now. Pale. So very pale.

"I'm sorry," she started, her voice failing her as he suddenly descended on her.

He gripped the arms of the chair over top of her own, his face was inches from hers. Something had changed in his expression. She could tell this close to him that he was exhausted.

"You've been keeping things from me this entire case, why can't you tell me the truth?"

Mai stared back at him with greater composure than she felt. Her feelings were dangerously divided. What was this tremor she heard in his voice? How was she supposed to answer and not betray Mr. Miyuki's trust?

"It's not my secret to keep."

His expression changed again. He pulled back a moment, his brows contracting, and then— closer than even before, he leaned in to her.

The smell of tea filled her senses. His breathing, irregular and labored, was loud in her ears. Despite the questioning she was faced with, worry for him burned in her chest.

Something's wrong.

Mai watched him swallow, his lips parted.

"Tell me. Have you made some kind of deal? Is that what this about?"

Mai stiffened, instinctively she sat straighter in her seat,

"No, no— it's not like that..."

He's worried about me.

Naru closed his eyes. A beat past. Mai's felt his grip tighten. He opened his eyes.

"Are you telling me the truth?"

She nodded earnestly, her forehead bushing his in the process.

"Yes."

I promise.

He exhaled, nodding in return. He pulled back. His hands released hers. Their eyes met for a moment longer, and then— he was gone.