Author's Note: So this goes a bit angsty. Hmm, that Naru. Still, I hope you enjoy, because, well, it just felt right to me. A big thank you to everyone who'd liked and review this-please keep doing so. It's the only motivation to keep it up ;)

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Part III

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...

It's at the end of the summer that it always hits him acutely, perhaps because the old adages about seasons changing, summer to autumn, are the exact metaphors one uses for remembrance, and Naru uses for death.

Standing near the water in the late afternoon, that just-begun taste of fall in the gust, Naru remembers his brother's body being pulled from right here half a dozen years ago now. He remembers the police and flashing lights and the physical wound his body seemed to make at the realization that this was it. That this was the last concrete thread he'd ever have of Gene. It was like knowing his brother was dead all over again, except this time…this time it was absolute.

The grief is still fresh when he comes here, which is why he only does it once a year.

It's not the anniversary of Gene's death, or the anniversary of the body's discovery. No, this ritual is one Naru had chosen himself because summer had always been theirs, their best memories—the warm evenings on the orphanage grounds, looking for stones to throw into the worn back fence, the later explorations of London with their adoptive parents, the long days of Noll studying by the small grove of trees in their backyard as Gene tried (and occasionally succeeded) in distracting his reading. Even with their disparate personalities, and even with Noll's studious nature, Gene had made summers his official campaign to get Oliver out of the house, to "stop being so bloody boring!", to see something that his "books couldn't teach". Ever indulgent to his twin, and even slightly nostalgic for their childhood isolation for some reason, Naru had usually acquiesced to some goofing off (which he made up for by staying up late and studying of course). It amounted to little more than excursions into the city, treks to the lake, or (Gene's favorite) the arcade, but they were the fondest recollections Naru had.

It was only fitting, then, that the summer's end be for Gene. The sadness that overtook Naru now felt like more than grief for his brother—it was bitterness: summers, his summers, would not be for such pleasures anymore. And not least of all because he had important deadlines to consider; a career to uphold.

This new publication has been a long time coming—too long, the facility and his editor had chided. He hadn't written more than a few papers in the last couple of years and his publisher had been antsy that he finally finish his book: case studies, of sorts, that he'd been compiling since starting SPR. Now, almost at the cusp of finalizing his draft, Naru stood anxious, agitated.

And I wonder why that is, he thought, watching a few birds swoop low to the water's edge. They skimmed close over the surface before lifting back up, like a dusting of dark seeds. He knew why that was: Mai.

It was a wonder it had not dawned on Naru earlier, given his new…awareness…of his assistant, but much (too much) of his manuscript involved her. From her discoveries and dreams, her intuition and powers, even spirit attraction to her, his book was littered with analysis of the psychic young woman. It might as well be called Mai Tanyama: A Personal Inquest. He gave a snort: his publishers would surely love that.

Mai was beginning—no, had always been—a thorn in his side and Naru could make peace with having feelings for her if it wasn't that she was now slipping into his work. It was not to be borne. He had to definitively…

Naru paused, his pulse quickening. Had he just…?

Oh the hell with it, his mind ruthlessly assessed, you care. You know you care, now get on with it. Never a fan of mild symptoms of schizophrenia, Naru rubbed the bridge of his nose, deliberating. Logic. Logic. Logic was best.

Cautiously, with no little amount of trepidation, Naru gave in and thought it point blank, the fear he'd been harboring since his run in with her mind that afternoon is Shibuya: I care for Mai.

He looked around. Save for the birds fluttering and a fisherman throwing a line down by the trees, nothing out of the ordinary occurred at his admission. Gathering his thoughts once more he thought: I care for Mai, and it is interfering with my work.

Again, nothing happened at the deliberate pronouncement, only that his heart was merciless in his chest, and he felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, finally relaxing a fraction. I care for Mai, and it is interfering with my work, and I must resolve to fix this situation because it's unsatisfactory.

Perhaps romantic feelings were not as dire as he'd originally surmised; after all, his logic was still intact. He was still completely capable of ration. Naru stuck his hands in his pockets as the wind picked up. This only left two courses of action, Naru concluded, making a quick assentation of the problem and moving right into possible solutions.

The first was to tell Mai his feelings; the second was to say nothing.

The former he disregarded almost instantly for a variety of reasons, not least of which because she did not feel the same way, already had a boyfriend, and would undoubtedly cause his work (and life) more undue turmoil if the first two things weren't factors and they began seeing each other. Thusly dismissed, Naru turned to the second option: say nothing…and frowned. It was not so much a choice as it was keeping things the same, and that wouldn't do. It had to be a way for things to change, for him to resolve this problem.

It was unlikely that he could stop feelings by sheer force of will, Naru reasoned, or by attempting to recede further into his work—neither was likely to be effective long term, and he wanted this fixed sooner rather than later. The idea of a different kind of distraction was dismissed as easily as it occurred: dating another girl would be cumbersome, annoying, and likely interfere with his job anyway. Might as well date Mai, he rolled his eyes.

Which left, what, exactly?

Logic, logic.

Naru stood and pondered long after the sun had set.

…

...

He had avoided Mai fairly deftly since their non-verbal encounter in downtown Shibuya but, somehow, it was beginning to take its toll. For one thing, it meant no tea.

Correction, it meant no tea from Mai, which, as that was all he was used to at this point, meant basically the same thing. She'd returned after a week of him telling her that she didn't need to come into the office—that there wasn't much work to be had—and even in that short reprieve it had agitated him not to have the tea (and Mai) around.

Secondly, it meant unnecessary avoidances that felt far too practiced, false and that he did not enjoy. Not communicating with the brunette was relatively easy, even after her return (though he must have discounted exactly how much more he'd been speaking to her over the last couple of months, as opposed to when she started. Naru wondered if it was as jarring to her as it was to him). And even coming in early and leaving late were fine—but cancelling their sessions was proving to be a point of guilt and he disliked having to suspend what would only be beneficial for her abilities.

Naru knew he couldn't keep it up the moratorium on their testing for long, but tried to use the time to try to subdue his feelings.

It was a work in progress.

"Naru?" Mai said and he did definitely not notice that the way that she said his name was rather pleasant—lilting, soft—because that's something a simpleton would think.

He turned to her and she brushed her hair back, a bejeweled clip visible on one side of her head. "Yes?"

"I've been doing some research on telepathy," she said and it took Naru by surprise enough that he stopped focusing on her hair, the soft shine of it, "I was hoping you could give me some other materials." She smiled, "The Internet's not really…reliable."

Naru dragged his eyes away from her and glanced at the shelf behind him, coming away with a few tomes and an old research paper of his, "This shouldn't be too complicated for you…" He saw her frown before he'd even finished his sentence and found himself faltering. "They're less technical," he clarified.

Mai seemed surprised, then suddenly pleased. She gave him a wide grin. Only years of stoicism had trained him not to show his flinch. "Thank you."

She reached for the books and Naru almost threw them at her when her fingers (green tipped nails) brushed his, causing that twitch in his jaw to become more pronounced. She smiled when she left, but he wouldn't respond.

He wouldn't.

"Mai, more tea."

It just couldn't continue.

…

...

"Madoka, I assure you that there is nothing meant for you in my closet."

The woman in question ignored him, furiously looking through the hanging garments and muttering under her breath. He would honestly have to speak to Lin about letting his fiancé randomly accost his property on arbitrary mornings, barging into their apartment as if she were invited and forcing Naru to trail after her demented errands. Today being a brilliant example.

Naru closed his eyes, annoyed, putting out his arm to stop her from her rummaging. In his experience, sometimes the only way to stop his persistent ex-mentor was to physically bar her from her line of interest. "Madoka," he said again, slightly mollified when she paused and looked at him, large eyes intense.

"Noll," she returned, a small frown on her face, "I see nothing but black in there."

"How observant, as that is my preferred color of attire."

Madoka drew her mouth into a line and Naru was vaguely reminded of his younger days, when she had the ability to frighten him with one glance, "You are not attending a wedding of mine dressed more dourly than a mortician." She blew out a breath, pushing past him to gain access to the closet again, "If I don't find something suitable I will take you suit shopping, and you will stand there and be measured inseam to—"

Naru immediately reached past her probing arms and pulled out a small assortment of clothes, ignoring Madoka's infuriating and triumphant smile. Suit shopping was not an option in any realm of reality and if it came to it, he would back out of any best man duties in order to avoid it. Lin would forgive him…in a few decades…but it would be worth it.

Madoka made a happy noise akin to a warble and placed the items on his bed. She tapped a casual finger against her chin, giving him a sly smile, "So not all black, huh Dr. Davis? I see blues, and a bit of green and is that red?"

"Madoka," he said sharply, "Just select something appropriate and be done with it."

Ignoring him, she held up the red shirt in question, "And where did you get this saucy number?"

Naru drew his mouth into a line, "Luella sent me some of Gene's shirts. Now if you don't mind—"

"Well he had good taste," Madoka said softly and Naru looked at her for a long moment, his irritation gone. She seemed to shake herself out of it, picking up a deep blue button-down, "I like this. It suits you."

"Nothing suits me," he said, weary, "They're just clothes."

"Then why wear black?" she said, infuriatingly logical. Naru scowled, but his temper had receded. "Will you wear it?" she asked.

He was mildly confused, "That's why I'm allowing you to do this, isn't it?"

Madoka smiled prettily, but there was something else in her face too, "I know. It's just that sometimes people want a verbal cue, Noll, so they don't have to read into everything you do just to know what you're thinking."

Naru's jaw clenched, "And to what are you referring to now?"

He half expected her to roll her eyes, her usual MO, but she regarded him impassively. It was a minute before she spoke again, "You know, you've always been the more sensitive twin."

Whatever he'd expected, it wasn't that. He was momentarily too surprised to speak and tried to regain his composure, "Hardly. Gene was extremely caring—much more so than me."

Madoka shook her head, taking a seat on his bed, "Gene was expressive though, that's for sure." She laughed suddenly, "Do you remember how he acted when he met Calvin Quinn? He practically shook the poor doctor's arm off he was so excited to meet his hero…and then he nearly talked his ear off all during that committee dinner."

Despite himself, Naru smiled, remembering the evening—how Gene had been star-struck by the researcher having dinner at "their house". "When I'd tried to introduce myself Dr. Quinn backed up so fast he almost broke Luella's china cabinet," Naru said, "He thought I was Gene, back for a second interview."

Madoka suppressed her laughter, "Yeah. Gene knew how to make an impression." After a moment she shook herself out of it, "But that's my point. Gene was…passionate. Excitable. You…you've always been more understanding, deep, more perceptive."

Naru looked at her, unsure what to say and feeling like a teenager again, when Madoka's assessments always left him wondering if she did not posses supernatural intuition. He cleared his throat; "Some would accredit that to high intellect and logic, not to feeling."

"Well those individuals don't know you," Madoka said and her eyes seemed misty, "I always thought it was a shame, the way you seemed happy to pass off all of those good traits on Gene and take the more difficult on for yourself. "

Naru wanted to look away, to ask her to stop talking, but he was having a hard time keeping her words out, or voicing his thoughts. She seemed to understand his agitation because she gave a small smile of reassurance, "You asked what I was referring to earlier? It's just that I hope you can stop being Oliver, the brother, the twin who's always been responsible for one half of a dynamic and managing a balance and become…you—a whole person who's allowed to have emotions."

She sighed a little and Naru looked away. "I guess I just hoped, after Gene, that you wouldn't be held back anymore," she said, "I'd hoped time would help, but…"

Madoka stood up, picking up the blue shirt and putting the hanger in his hand, "You are entitled to everything everyone else is Noll; you don't have to be the stoic one anymore." She smiled, "Wear this one to the dinner."

And with a final pat on his arm, she left the room. Naru stood by the edge of the bed, fingering the blue material Luella had always picked out for Gene because he'd been the only one of them who'd had a favorite color. Or who'd articulated a favorite color.

Naru waited for the lump in his throat to subside. When it finally did, he joined Madoka in the kitchen and didn't even protest when she insisted he have some toast with his morning tea.

…

...

The party was a small affair to celebrate the wedding, an informal rehearsal, Madoka had insisted.

It was the crew from SPR, a few other friends, Madoka's parents and Lin's mother. Naru, not much for indulging in alcohol usually, was sipping on his wine, trying not to wince at the future in-law's obvious discomfort with the entire arrangement. The family was sitting dispassionately at different ends of the table, not engaging in much conversation. Madoka seemed not to care though, taking animatedly with her friends by the dance floor, Lin by her side. Lin's father had refused to come and Naru was not surprised—the man had only hardened in his opinions about the Japanese since he'd known him as a teen. His lack of presence indicated the man's stance on the soon-to-be union.

That was bleak enough on its own yet, for Naru, the wine was for a different reason as well.

"Yasu, for the last time, you are not spinning or grinding on me. This is isn't a club."

"Come on, Mai, just one dance?"

"You've had two and it's not polite not to mingle," she said, smirking, fixing the skirt of her dress.

"Yeah, yeah," Yasu said, turning to Takigawa and wriggling his eyebrows, "What about you, fellow? Care to cut a rug?"

Monk visibly paled, looking around in distress for a second before spotting Matsuzaki by the drinks, "I…er…actually already promised a dance, excuse me." He rushed over to the woman and gestured erratically until she nodded, amused, and allowed herself to be led to the dance floor.

"No fair," Yasuhara groaned.

"I'd like to dance," Masako Hara gliding over to their conversation, the white and gold of kimono more extravagant than usual, and Yasuhara gave her a what he probably assumed was a charming grin but that Naru could only roll his eyes witnessing.

"Let's go then!"

Naru glanced at his watch—half past eight—and estimated that he could leave now. He'd shown up for long enough, been polite with the parents and congratulated his friends. They wouldn't expect him to stay longer, and his lack of desire to attend parties was not warming him to this one. Yet, for some reason, he didn't.

Mai was laughing with Brown-san and Madoka, her eyes shining just a little too brightly and Naru wondered if she too hadn't gotten to the wine. She nodded to something that was said, but her thoughts seemed to be elsewhere. Still smiling, though it didn't quite reach her eyes, she looked away from the group, her fingers doing their familiar dance across the satin of her skirt.

Naru wondered where the boyfriend was, whether he had been invited and concluded that Madoka would certainly insist that he was. Given the guy's constant need to check up on Mai, it was unusual for him not be present at what would, socially, be deemed a date event. For a brief instant, Naru wondered if they were no longer together, and the jolt of satisfaction that the thought engendered was enough to push him to his feet and give Lin an acknowledging nod before making his hasty departure from the party.

He was just out the door when her voice stopped him, and he froze, realizing that the sound had not come from behind him, but from inside his head.

Naru turned slowly and found Mai behind him after all, her cheeks unusually flushed, matching the rose-color of her dress. Her eyes were wide and she seemed quite rooted to spot.

"Was that intentional?" he asked, stepping away from the door of the restaurant and scrutinizing her.

She nodded slowly, Yes. She followed him to the side of the building.

"Are you able to control it so well?" he asked, aware that having her voice ringing in his skull was having a strange effect on him.

"No," she said aloud, then looked bewildered, "I've never been able to do this." Are you sure you can hear me?

"Yes," he snapped and immediately regretted getting worked up. Naru looked away, "Why did you come out here? You should get back to the party." He didn't bring up the unusual psychic display—that conversation should not happen now. It needed to happen when he'd prepared what to say…how to break the news to her as easily as possible.

Mai shrugged but Naru could tell it was facetious—she'd never been a very good actress. "I saw you leaving and I…I felt like maybe you've been avoiding me."

"Don't be ridiculous," he said and watched her take a deep breath, her pale neckline momentarily distracting him and he had to, yet again, force his eyes from her.

"Are you…are you angry? That I was in your head?" she asked softly and Naru glowered, stepping closer as to intimidate her.

"It's not something I enjoy," he said, though it was partly a lie, "I wish you'd refrain from reading my thoughts in the future." Naru straightened his posture and turned as if to leave.

"Well, I didn't!"

He paused, turning back, "What?"

"Read them," the girl mumbled, wrapping her arms around herself as if she were cold, "I could have, I think, but I chose not to. I just projected my own…"

Naru felt something like relief wash over him but ignored it, "You chose?"

Mai nodded, jaw set, "So you can stop acting all weird. I didn't try to figure you out or mess up your narcissistic, mysterious self. I know no more about you than I ever did." Her eyes were fierce and her expression intimated frustration…and disappointment.

At her words, Naru frowned but was unsure he should pursue this line of conversation. His gathered his wits and schooled his expression into a neutral one. Even if he was irritated with her probing and her continued insistence on perusing these heart-to hearts, he would have to be the one to cut them off. He still needed to prepare…he needed to have that conversation with her at some other point—

You're angry at me.

Naru looked at her and found her expression to be particularly stubborn. "I thought you wouldn't intrude into my mind," he said.

I'm not, I can just feel it. You want me to go away.

For the first time in their relationship, Naru was stumped. Mai had not delivered this statement in an accusatory manner. In fact, she looked rather resigned…weary but determined.

"It's obvious," she said softly and her arms dropped to her sides, despite the wind that blew past them, much colder than it had been in the daylight, "This arrangement isn't going to work out, is it?"

It was impossible that she understood the whole of the feelings, but she understood the gist and Naru felt slightly wary at her abilities. Whatever he'd believed of her powers, he'd not expected them to keep developing as much as they had. As for the question, it was one that he had not idea how to answer. The plan wouldn't work…the conversation needed to happen now.

"Mai," he said after a long pause, "I think that you might be suited more for a different research institute—one that could really devote the time to helping you process your abilities. A larger lab, and more specialized training could make a huge impact for you. These abilities of yours will only get stronger, might even be more than you know how to control—specialists would be very beneficial." The words weren't as rehearsed as he liked, but he hoped that she wasn't as skilled at reading his intonations as he was.

Mai had not looked up since he'd started speaking, but he knew that she was listening, "I can put you in touch with several—you could even continue your studies and enter the field of psychic research, if you wished. I'd write you a recommendation."

This time she did look up and Naru was surprised at the blankness of her face, when he only knew her as expressive—every emotion clearly written on her face. "That...that sounds good," she said finally. She stilled her fingers, "Please let me know more as soon as you can. I'll finish up the week at SPR."

"Mai," he said, when she'd given him a parting nod, "I know you must be disappointed to leave, but this really is the best solution." He wasn't sure if even rehearsing this line would have made it sound more believable.

Her lips quirked upwards, but the smile didn't reach her eyes, "I appreciate all of your help. Goodnight, Naru."

The young man watched her slide back through the doors and realized that he'd been holding his breath harshly in his chest, waiting for the response. When he released it, he unclenching his fists, and turned to walk back home in the brisk air. It chilled him through his shirt; summer was over.

…

...

Quick raps on his door woke him and it took Naru a moment to realize that he was in bed, no longer asleep. A glance at his clock showed 1:04 am and he moved quickly to the sound of the kncking. Lin was a lighter sleeper, but Naru knew he'd be staying with Madoka tonight and that whatever this was had to be handled by him.

It only briefly occurred to him that he had not given his address to anyone, nor had any reason to expect anyone at this hour before he opened the door.

Mai Taniyama stood before him with her hair messy, dressed in the same party clothes as when he'd last seen her in. Her expression was unreadable as she said, "I need to talk to you."

Naru blinked, suddenly unsure if he really was awake. "How do you know where I live?"

"I asked Lin," she said and, without asking permission, maneuvered past him inside. Lin, Naru thought with no little bit of annoyance, unsure what his usually reasonable assistant would be doing giving out his home address. Or maybe Madoka was at work here, he considered. Mai's entrance certainly did seem familiar to the interrupted entrances he'd suffered at his mentor's hands.

Mai, meanwhile, had come in and taken off her shoes—heels tall and sharp looking and ridiculously impractical. Naru didn't have time to dwell on the absurdity of female fashion, however, as the girl in question turned to him. He noticed for the first time that her mascara was slightly runny and her eyes faintly red.

"What happened?" he asked, coming closer and forgetting his earlier annoyance.

She waved him off with a quick hand, "We need to talk."

He frowned at her demeanor, "Yes, you've said. What about?"

The brunette lifted her chin slightly, "Why? Why did you fire me?"

Naru was frozen for a moment, unsure how to respond. At his silence, Mai let out a frustrated breath, "Just tell me. I think I deserve to know." She scowled, "And don't say that stuff from earlier, about needing special help or whatever."

"Mai," he began but couldn't quite decide how to proceed. "I meant what I said."

She blinked at him and Naru was struck by how large her eyes appeared, even before she moved closer to him. "I know you meant it, Naru," she said, annoyed, "But I want to know why. Why are you saying it? What did I do?" At the word her voice cracked and Naru willed himself to subdue the coiling in his stomach.

"I think it's time you move on with your life," he said firmly, telling her the words he'd thought about before he'd fallen asleep, "It's time you began a career and really took some initiative about it. It's fortunate that the opportunity has been presented to you."

Mai looked at him, her face going from astounded to cold, "So you're doing this for my benefit?"

Naru didn't respond, turning slightly from her and trying to put some distance between himself and her eyes. She sneered, "Well how kind of you Naru, to fire me for my own good. Because you deemed me too stupid to make my own decisions, or to even discuss this with me before…"

"I did not fire you," he snapped before he could stop himself, "I had intended to have a reasonable discussion about this but you had to push and invite your thoughts into my head—"

"You've been avoiding me!" Mai cried and she looked much younger suddenly, her shinny curls fallen around her face, her large eyes wet, "I just wanted to know why! You never—you never say anything Naru! How am I supposed to act when I don't know what's wrong?"

"I've told you everything I care to," Naru said after a long silence, indicating that he was finished with the conversation.

Mai didn't move, "So that's it? Years of working together and you can't even tell me why you're suddenly so ready to get rid of me. So…afraid?"

Naru snapped his head up, "It's not fear, Mai."

"It is," she said, her eyes narrow as she stalked over, "Because it's cowardly not to admit the truth to me. I might be naïve, Naru, but even I know better than to think you could be this heartless about someone who's been with you for so long—your friend. Your…"

Naru's stomach clenched and he made his voice cold, "What, Mai? What are you to me, exactly?"

"I—I…" Mai seemed unable to respond. She watched him, surprised, at his aggressive question. It wasn't like him, he knew, but this emotions were, for the first time, taking over his reason.

Naru felt his anger come back, remembering her accusations, "My annoying, daft assistant? A clumsy idiot? The headstrong girl who causes more harm than good?" He paused, "The stupid child in love with my dead brother? What are you, exactly?"

"You—you," Mai hissed and he caught her wrist before she could bring her palm across his face in a slap, "how dare you? You don't know me, Naru, no matter how much you think you do, you self-important... You don't."

"Oh yeah?" he towered over her, ignoring the pulling of her arm as she tried to disengage her wrist, suddenly ready to push back, "Have you not abandoned every ambition to be a receptionist at SPR? Have you not let that oafish beau string you along for months without the gall to tell him about your abilities? Have you not wasted any potential because you're too lazy to commit to one thing?"

She stopped struggling and brought her chin up and Naru watched, fascinated, as her eyes sparked in fury, "I was wrong; you are heartless," she hissed, "God. I'll tell you what, Naru, I guess you have it all figured out, huh? You know everybody's motivations and everything they'll do before they do it and to have it all planned because you, with your vast intellect, ordained it to be so? How does it feel to know everything?"

Naru glowered, feeling the heat spike through his stomach, "Exactly like I—"

He didn't have a chance to guess or prepare because, suddenly, out of nowhere, Mai was gripping the sides of his face and pressing her mouth to his. He felt force and hot breath and a sound that came from her throat—a growl—that echoed briefly before she pushed away, chest heaving.

Naru's astonished gaze was frozen on her face, her large eyes blinking tears and the quivering mouth that been on his own, "I've never pushed you, not once, because I believed you were happy like this. I never pursued you. I left you alone because I loved you, Naru, not Gene, and I never wanted to make you compromise yourself. I stayed because I wanted to, because SPR was my family, because I believed in what we were doing. And I dated because I was trying to keep myself occupied." Mai paused, a sob overtaking her, "But then you didn't seem happy anymore and I wondered if….maybe you…but I was wrong. You're as unfeeling now as when I first confessed."

He felt himself trying to break out of this strange feeling, the dreamlike haze that had seemed to cloak everything, but Mai beat him to it. "I think I finally agree with you, Naru, I think it's time I moved on," she picked up her shoes and gave him a firm look, "I think I'll get that recommendation elsewhere." She turned and walked to the door, pausing briefly at the handle, but not saying anything further before she left.

Naru, for his part, did not move from his spot. Even if he caught up with her, he didn't know what to say because everything, all of this nonsense, was suddenly not such nonsense at all.

Bitterly, Naru wondered when Mai Taniyama had grown so astute, and when he'd become too dense to notice.

...

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tbc...