So two months, innumerable rewrites, cycling between hating and loving it, 12, 590 words and lots of tears later...
Warnings: same warnings apply
Spoilers (duh): if you haven't read the mangas...
Disclaimer: bluh bluh don't own
Quick note: I actually have an AU and a possible sequel in the works, but let's just focus on this one first, shall we?
We're definitely out of the city, she thought groggily, as the smoky autumn breeze tossed a few strands of hair around her face. The air was fresh, not layered with the undertones of life, industry, and a bit of depravity that colored the heady scent of her city. Mai was hesitant to open her eyes, content to imagine herself lying in an open field in the sunshine, but time was apparently of the essence.
"Not to be rude, but could you move it a little quicker? I think Naru's about to pounce," Evie urged dryly, stepping back as she none too gently pried her face from the leather seat and rubbed at her eyes sleepily. How would you know, you're not even facing him, she thought with a twinge of irritation. It was bad enough being woken so early on a Sunday, but she wasn't quite sure she could handle Evie after about five hours of her consciousness floating aimlessly in the realm of the lingering. Plus, Gene, which in and of itself was an exhausting dilemma.
Her foot was tapping an impatient rhythm on the smooth looping driveway. "If making a sexual innuendo about said pouncing will get you going faster, I'm not opposed to it."
Now, Mai wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that. She opted instead for clambering to her feet, feigning a yawn so she could avoid answering, and looking pointedly away from Naru, who had his impatient glare turned full value on her. Boss or not, she was not at his beck and call. He could wait. After all, he made her wait for two months.
He left me. Mai stopped in her tracks, though Evie jogged ahead, and froze. Where the heck did that come from? Shaking her head minutely, she continued her trek with renewed vigor (i.e. dragging her feet in an overly dramatic show of exhaustion) until she was within acceptable distance of her teammates. An acceptable distance for Naru to reprimand her, in his roundabout way.
"So kind of you to join us, Mai," he drawled almost scathingly, his face carefully blank but Mai knew what to look for. His jaw was tense, and there was a strange gleam in the way he looked at her, a little bit of mischief mingled with his own unique brand of superiority. He was much more devious than the others gave him credit for. "Hamasaki-san has offered to give us a brief tour of her facilities."
Somehow his sneering sounded polite, a talent Mai figured only Naru possessed. Damn was it aggravating?
"Oh please, call me Juri-san. I feel like my grandmother when people call me by my family name," a vaguely familiar, but sweet voice answered, a little flustered, and Mai noticed for the first time that the matron had in fact already joined them. She probably got here before me, she thought, blushing now at her earlier theatrics and hoping Naru wouldn't use them as fodder for his teasing. A cursory glance around the grounds revealed that no, there was no hole miraculously opening up in the earth to end her misery.
Then again, knowing her habits, she'd find one eventually.
Juri-san looked at her feet for a long minute, seemingly lost in thought, before she sprang to life suddenly. "Oh! What am I doing—come in! Lin-san, I have those floor plans ready for you."
Lin nodded coolly and followed directly behind the comparatively tiny woman, her small frame dwarfed by his height. She could just make out the tension along the matron's shoulders and her brisk gait as she put a little more distance between them. Which was understandable. Lin liked to loom and he wasn't exactly warm about it, plus being 6'2 lent him an added air of intimidation. She fought back a giggle. How many times had she been in the same situation?
"What's so funny Jou-chan?" The cheerful voice preceded a heavy hand on top of her head, ruffling her already unruly hair but forcing a smile from her lips anyway. Mai turned her speculative gaze to their resident (unorthodox) monk as they made their way up the steps to the spacious front porch.
"Just Lin-san. He's got that mystery/intimidation thing down pat, doesn't he?" she commented colorfully, and made no effort to lower her voice. Besides, Lin always smiled when she said things like that, albeit briefly and almost invisibly. Sure enough, as he glanced her way, she could see the tell-tale turning of his lips.
Before Bou-san could manage something asinine in response, Juri-san's voice echoed in her ears. "This is the foyer. To the right is the main office and individual meeting rooms. To your left is what we call the commons, which serves primarily for dining and lessons. We have always had private tutors attend to the education of the children."
Mai didn't hear much of what she said. She was too busy scraping her jaw off the floor.
The house was fairly large from the outside, or at least she assumed, as she hadn't been paying much attention to her surroundings. In any case, it looked huge from within. The 'foyer' resembled more a ballroom that she'd seen on TV once, all marble and deep rich colors and cherry wood banisters on the stairwell. Two archways opened along the east and west walls that presumably led to the rooms Mai had only half-heard about. She was too distracted by the novelty of being in a mansion that didn't have stairs protruding from the ceiling. Everything looked well-cared for, everything gleamed, except for the floors. The lovely wood was warped and scuffed, probably by decades of little feet trampling the beauty from it.
"If you'll follow me, I'll show you to your rooms before we see the rest of the house. I imagine you'll want to unpack your luggage," Juri-san offered, gesturing uncertainly to the bags in each hand (or in Ayako's case, the nail file while Bou-san struggled with her three bags and his).
"Yes, thank you," Naru spoke for his team and nodded them up the grand, u-shaped stairs just to the left of the room. About halfway up, Mai managed to avoid tripping on a shoe. A very tiny shoe speckled with mud and marker that had her maternal instincts cooing and her smile widening.
At least one benefit of this case: Mai loved children, and the majority of her time would probably be spent interacting with them. (And sleeping. Great.) For an orphanage filled with children, she couldn't help but find it too quiet. The only sounds were the tapping of their feet on the hardwood and Bou-san's occasional grunt as he readjusted one of Ayako's bags over his shoulder. They were in a wide hallway on the third floor now, lined on either side with doors that looked as old and well-loved as the rest of the house. Strange though, she couldn't hear any giggling, or the clattering of toys from any of the rooms. A heavy feeling settled over her chest, pressing down unbearably, but unidentifiable, something like unease or sadness.
"I could only spare four bedrooms, but if it's an issue I can move some of the children," Juri-san shattered the silence with her uncertainty, voice tipping up at the end like as if she were asking a question.
"Four is fine," Naru replied shortly, and Mai just barely restrained herself form glaring at the back of his head. Couldn't he see that this woman was about one authoritative quip away from making a break for it? Her back looked like overly tightened strings on a cello, her spine bowed under the pressure. The least he could do was pretend to be human for five minutes!
"Yes, thank you Juri-san! We're used to sharing rooms, and we wouldn't want to impose any more," she assured sweetly, tossing a pointed glare to Naru's back for good measure. Behind her Evie snickered into her hand.
The matron looked between the two younger girls warily. "Yes, well, these four will be yours." She gestured to four on either side of them. "And the bathrooms are the last doors at the end of the hall. I'll leave you to get settled in, and we can meet in the foyer at 2:30 to continue the tour."
Without waiting for a response, the woman bolted as they watched her quickly retreating form, dumbfounded. The silence lingered for a moment, but as per usual, any real quiet died in the presence of her fellow teammates fairly quickly.
"Wow, usually they hold out. What do you think her time was?" Bou-san asked in mock-seriousness, eyes still trained after the vanishing matron. Mai let her elbow accidentally ram into his ribs, even as she fought back a laugh. Just because he was right didn't mean anyone had to encourage him.
Though she had to admit, that was the fastest she'd seen Lin and Naru scare off a client. Potentials, bless their hearts, never stood a chance, but clients were typically plucky enough to withstand the frigid professionalism a little longer.
"Perhaps that noxious cologne you're wearing scared her off, old man. It's making me dizzy," Ayako commented scathingly, even going so far as to plug her nose. Please don't play into, please don't play into it. No such luck.
"Maybe she's afraid of clowns. That much makeup would certainly frighten me."
Mai turned away after that. There was a screech and a loud thump, followed by a couple unintelligible curses, then punctuated with John's adorably awkward accent trying and failing to break up the fight. She pinched the bridge of her nose exasperatedly, and prayed for a moments reprieve. Normally it was hilarious, but after this morning, she really wasn't in the mood to watch a sexually charged battle ensue (and God knows she wished she'd never had an epiphany moment about the nature of their fighting, she could do without the mental images).
"Does this happen often?" Evie whispered, her eyes round as she watched the two go at it.
Mai opened her mouth to answer, but a different voice cut in. "Unfortunately." Naru turned his unwilling attention to the couple. "Matsuzaki, Takigawa, refrain from openly expressing your mental ages while we are on a case. During your free time, you are more than welcome to engage your immaturity."
The two straightened immediately, though they still tossed each other glares, and Mai swore she heard a finally 'demon woman' muttered under Bou-san's breath. She'd give him one thing, while his narcissism and self-assurance could be irritating, he got the job done quickly.
"Should we choose our rooms, Shibuya-san?" John segued smoothly, his eyes wide with inquiry and sparkling under the low lighting. Mai couldn't help but smile. John had a way of making the tensest situations serene, plus he was an adorable big brother.
"Lin and I will take this room." He nodded to the closest door on the right side of the hallway.
"You're not rooming with Naoki-san, Lin?" Bou-san inquired with a devilish grin, then shrunk away at Mai's threateningly raised fist.
Evie snorted. "Are you joking? Anyone who's seen a scary movie can tell you what happens to the dumbass who has sex in a haunted house. I'm rooming with Mai-chan."
Now, she wasn't quite sure if she should be happy with that. On one hand, she wouldn't be stuck with Masako, who'd said very little this whole time, probably in protest of Evie's presence, but on the other, her intuition, unhelpful as it could be sometimes, would probably scream the same stupid, confusing warning over and over again for the duration of the case. She supposed it boiled down to the lesser of two evils, but she couldn't decide which was which.
"Wonderful. Perhaps I might get some sleep on a case," Masako said with her usual reserve, her head tipped to the side cutely as she looked accusingly at Mai. So cutely, in fact, she had the sudden urge to wring her cute little neck.
Stupid intuition it was, then.
As it turned out, the tour didn't take very long, given the size of the house, and Juri-san even managed to point out areas with the most activity. The ground floor had a pretty simple layout, almost like a horse-shoe around the foyer, with the right side mainly consisting of offices and a simply decorated waiting room. The left was distinctly more chaotic. Some of the walls had been knocked down to open into a room even larger than the foyer, but not quite as tall, with rows of tables and encased on every wall by bookshelves. Behind that was a large, industrial kitchen where they met Umi and Chiyo, two of the housekeepers who doubled as chefs.
The second floor, where their rooms were, accommodated the older children, from 10-16, and the youngest were on the third. Juri-san's personal quarters took over the top floor. Fairly simple to remember, but Mai had the distinct feeling someone (probably her) would end up lost anyway. It was a fairly monstrous house.
Their base was set up in one of the private conference rooms, and after setting up every camera and every mic they owned, not to mention scribbling down hasty temperatures for a baseline before activity started up, they were understandably exhausted. Thus being sprawled unprofessionally across the couches should not have been a punishable offense, but alas, Naru.
He took one look at Mai half-laying on Bou-san. "I don't pay you to do nothing, Mai."
And of course I'm the only one who gets a shout-out. "I know, I know. I'll get your tea."
This seemed to quell any possibly rage, as he nodded his own special not-thanks and sat at the long conference table they'd shoved to the side, black notebook firmly in hand. She was tempted to look at his scrawled notes, but chances were high she wouldn't understand anything he'd jotted down.
"Lin," he said in his usual sharp tone, the echoes following her as she marched to the kitchen with dignity. It was weird. Normally, his voice, the patterns, all the routines they'd established, the routines she'd been deprived of would make her smile. The little reminders that things were back to normal, or as normal as they could be in this field.
But lately, everything he said kind of….pissed her off. Those little things he'd say to rile her actually wounded her now, like a gunshot in place of a squirt gun. He'd never gotten to her like this before.
"Oh hey, Taniyama-san! What brings you here?" Umi greeted kindly, and Mai realized with a start that she was in the kitchen. She probably would've noticed if Naru wasn't taking over her thoughts. Love could be a real bitch sometimes.
"The slave-driver wants tea," she half-mumbled, then more clearly, "Would you mind showing me where the tea is?"
Umi chuckled good-naturedly and gestured to the cabinet nearest her. "In there sweetie. Help yourself. If you need any help, feel free to call me!"
"Actually, Umi-san," she called before the plump older woman could escape, before the thoughts had really formed in her mind, "would you mind if I asked a few questions while the water boils?"
Her warm expression turned curious, but she sat down at the counter and waited expectantly while Mai went through the motions of prepping Naru's tea. Thank the gods she could do it blindfolded by now, or else she'd have trouble coordinating her hands while she thought of nonthreatening questions to ask. Usually Naru was more direct, something he'd probably learned from Madoka, who was equally direct and equally intimidating, albeit in a 'she's crazy' kind of way. But Mai had mastered her own technique. She was kind, and people who were scared tended to latch onto her assuring words over interrogative ones. It had yet to fail her thus far.
"How long have you worked here, Umi-san?" she inquired casually, turning her attention half to the woman and half to the gleaming copper kettle. She really was focused entirely on her, but most people tended to be more comfortable without a piercing, soul-reading stare courtesy of both her bosses.
"I started working when I was around your age, with my mother," her bell-like voice began wistfully. Making connections, she trusts me, "And that was what, forty years ago! I originally worked for Juri's grandmother, Jin."
"I see. You must know the family well then, right?" In her residual irritation, Mai couldn't help but note that her speech had turned distinctly formal. Like Naru's. She was very glad her back was to Umi, so the older woman wouldn't see her grinding her teeth in self-directed fury. He just has to invade everything.
She nodded, and when Mai had composed herself enough to look at her, her smile was proud. "I've helped raise every child and grandchild."
The kettle whistled, and the pair fell silent as she fixed the tea with a little more haste. Naru was probably getting antsy. Which normally she'd say screw it, he can wait, but she didn't think the team would appreciate being subjected to his withdrawal-induced wrath.
"You'll help us, won't you?" It was so quiet, she'd almost missed it, so focused on steeping the tea just long enough she didn't notice Umi slouch under some unidentifiable weight. Her face, plump and pleasantly wrinkled with laugh lines, seemed much older than it did just moments before. "You're a nice girl. You'll help us?"
There was something so heartbreakingly child-like about her pleading. Umi was crumbling, right before her eyes and she'd be damned if she didn't help her. 'Try' wasn't enough anymore.
"Help with what?" she prompted kindly, patiently.
Umi looked about the room, as if someone were listening in on them. Mai didn't feel the need to point out that yes, there was a camera in here, and Lin was probably half-tuned into their conversation. Somehow she didn't think the revelation would make her any more comfortable.
"The ghost. He's been around for years, since Jin remarried I think, but he's never done anything terrible. He was just there, but now….." 'He?' Her shifting only worsened as she scooted closer to Mai, her foggy brown eyes wide with fear. She laid a comforting hand on the woman's age-withered one.
"What makes you think it's a boy, Umi-san?"
She shrugged. "Just a feeling. Besides, when he hides, it's usually in one of the older boys' rooms."
Mai smirked internally in victory. Naru hadn't had his first cup of tea, and she already had a profile for the ghost. That was what she called progress. As for Umi's 'feeling' she decided to file that one away under 'potential spiritualist'.
"Thank you for talking with me Umi-san. I'd better get back to base, though. Naru will be getting antsy." She tacked on an eye-roll for good measure, smiling when the woman's tension seemed to melt. A little comic relief works wonders.
"Do you need help carrying anything, sweetie?" Umi was already out of her chair, looking distinctly flustered as she glanced about the room, perhaps a little guilty. It wasn't an unusual sight. Mai found people often told her more than they wanted to. Not that she was complaining.
Give her a reprieve, she'll be fine. "No thanks, I've got it. Thanks again for your help!" She balanced the tray expertly on her forearm.
"Of course, anytime."
By the time she got back to the base, Naru was dolling out assignments. She set his cup before him unobtrusively.
He took what she assumed was a grateful sip. "Have a seat, Mai."
Bou-san moved over, smirking that weird 'I know something you don't know and tee hee I ain't gonna tell you' smirk, which she didn't have the concentration to even begin to interpret. She was too excited, her whole body thrumming with energy. Maybe for once she could beat Naru at his own game.
"Hara-san," he began cordially, and Mai's excitement doubled vindictively when Masako bristled at his formality, "Have you sensed a presence."
The medium sat (if that was even possible) even straighter, like a porcelain doll, her violet eyes sparkling. "I have felt a rather distraught presence, but it won't manifest itself clearly. I believe it is hiding."
Mai knew her chance when she saw it. "Actually, Naru I think—."
"Matsuzaki, Father Brown, take the list of victims and interview the children involved, as well as the housekeepers," Naru cut in, as if she weren't even there. She shut her mouth with an audible click. Seriously, she knew he wasn't exactly the most polite person, but that was taking it a little too far. Indignation roiled under her skin, and she glared viciously at him, hoping against hope he'd spontaneously combust under her fury.
Meanwhile, Ayako looked between the teens uncertainly. Mai looked absolutely murderous. Understandable, since Naru proverbially side-swatted her, and normally she'd be amused at the chipper girl's violent tendencies, if it weren't for her next task. She for one had no issue putting the little self-satisfied brat in his place, but he obviously wasn't in a good mood, treating Mai of all people as he did. Especially after he'd made them sit there for a good fifteen minutes while Mai prepared tea, refusing to start until she was back in the room. Bou-san's knowing smirk must have set him off. In any case, she was loathe to poke an angry bear. Ayako sighed to herself. Just my luck.
"I don't know, Naru. Maybe Mai should take my place. She's much better at getting information," she conceded, facing his icy stare when he fixed it to her with nonchalance she certainly didn't feel. Brat.
"I agree, Shibuya-san," John added tactfully, though he tripped awkwardly over the alias. No one had bothered to discuss something as simple as what to call him, she realized. "No offense to Matsuzaki-san, but Taniyama-san is really more suited to such tasks." So many loose ends, so many unstated issues.
Issue number one: Naru having a head as thick as steel. "Mai will complete the tasks I assign her, as her contract outlines. You would be wise to do the same." Madoka was right. They'd need the best surgeon in the world to extract that pole from up his ass. If Ayako thought her pseudo-daughter was mad before….
"Look here, you little—"
"Ayako, it's fine," Mai interrupted before the shrine maiden could unleash a barrage of expletives in a house full of children, her voice surprisingly calm even as she burned with rage. A few choice words of her own bubbled on her tongue, unspoken. "What I was going to say, before I was so rudely interrupted" cue pointed look at Naru "was that I've already spoken with Umi, one of the cooks."
"I don't pay you to chat away your time."
She flinched. Keep calm, keep calm. Don't play into his trap. "I think I have a pretty good profile of the ghost."
"What'd you get, Jou-chan?" Bou-san interjected kindly, and she tossed a brilliant smile in his direction.
"It seems our ghost is a male, probably aged ten to sixteen. Umi says he has a tendency to hide in one of the older boys' rooms, which makes me think he probably slept there at some point. And he's been around for at least forty years, certainly long enough to twist his emotions. He could be very volatile." Mai tried not to notice that she was speaking too formally, that she sounded too much like Naru. It was Madoka, she told herself. Madoka always said to sound professional when offering theories, because they were more easily accepted. She tried not to think that she wanted Naru to believe her. To trust her.
"Nice work, Mai," Evie chirped from behind Naru, nodding appreciatively, "Impressive reasoning, don't you think Naru?"
At least someone was on her side, she thought self-deprecatingly, letting her professionalism slip so she could beam at the copper-haired woman.
Naru's face was utterly blank. "Takigawa, accompany Hara-san on another walk-through, see if you can't get any more from the spirit." And he's ignoring me. I guess that's better than calling me stupid. Somehow she didn't feel much better.
In fact, she was suddenly very, very tired. And she wasn't sure it had anything to do with her powers.
"Evie—."
"Oui, mon Capitaine," she answered in some language Mai didn't recognize, her fingertips touching her brow in a jaunty and clumsy salute.
Naru rolled his eyes. "Just…stay out of the way. Play with the children."
Her responding grin was wide and cat-like, a little too amused, Mai thought, for being openly insulted. Evie made no move to carry out his half-order, simply staring at him with that smile, even as he turned his back to her.
"Mai."
She was tired. "If you'll excuse me, Shibuya-san, I think I'll go lie down." It hurts. "Maybe you'll get some useful information out of me when I'm asleep."
Before he could respond, she darted from the room.
Evie was still watching him. He could feel her unyielding gaze as if she were repeatedly shoving him.
"Wow, Noll. Way to screw that up right out of the gate," she offered scathingly, clapping her hands. Mocking him, he knew full well, but he was suddenly too tired to come back with his usual bite. There were too many eyes following him, criticizing him. He said nothing as one by one his team left the room excepting Lin and Evie.
They were silent in their perusal of him, but their brows were furrowed in distaste. Noll felt like a child, belittled and patronized. That's what you get for plucking the wings off a butterfly, a voice said, unbidden, from the back of his mind, the one that sounded like Gene. Too much like Gene. A hulking shape blocked his sightless view of the pale blue wall.
"Spare me the reprimand, Dad."
Lin's expression didn't change at all. "I don't think you need me to tell you that you're acting like a child." No, I really do not.
Her body tense, unsure, but determination in her eyes. "I think you should take this case."
Evie was still grinning at him. Distantly, he wondered if she were reading him, but found he couldn't care if she were. She wouldn't find much. His mind was slowly shutting down, blanking bit by bit. It was an automatic response from his youth, one he thought he'd grown out of. Evidently not.
He'd lost control of his locked up emotions, which had, notably, been jarred by Evie's arrival and her consequent invasion of the life he'd carefully hidden here. He was drawn thin enough as it was. Though to be fair, he was happy to see her, at least part of him was, but he hadn't been expecting her, and while it burned him to admit, he was thrown off guard. Her constant presence since had given him no time to recover, either. Thus it was only natural that he snap. Mai was simply the unfortunate provocation.
Her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, her neck red with the beginning of bruises.
Actually, no. It was that damn look Takigawa had fixed on him. That knowing look, the teasing one that said he was lording something over Noll's head, some bit of information to which he wasn't privy. It had no prompting whatsoever. Mai left the room, he'd watched her leave disinterestedly, cue ridiculous eyebrow waggling. He'd been inexplicably irritated by that look.
He and inexplicable were supposed to be mutually exclusive terms.
Her head resting on his arm as the car rumbled along the country road.
An image came, unbidden, to the forefront of his quickly cloying thoughts. Mai, her face twisted in anger, then disbelief, then….Nothing. Utterly blank, like someone had erased all the words from an open book. His stomach twisted painfully before the image was snuffed out viciously.
There was a heavy hand at his shoulder, a sympathetic gaze waiting for him if he cared to lift his eyes. He didn't.
"Fix it." And then he was alone, with a brain that apparently refused to work properly and a heavy feeling that he'd done something very cruel.
Ten minutes of searching (fruitlessly), and she finally found the children on the back lawn, playing in one huge conglomerated mass of sticky, smiling youth. They were raking the leaves, or at least some of the older boys were, while the younger kids screamed their way into the huge piles, only to spread the leaves again. It was a vicious cycle, but they didn't seem to mind, if their fond smiles were any indication.
Evie loved children, especially young, deprived ones. They didn't know how to lie, or manipulate, or be cruel yet. These children wasted nothing, least of all emotions. Their joy tingled along the back of her neck and arms.
Another ten minutes, she was surrounded by little girls of varying ages, pawing her hair, pulling the curls out and giggling when they sprang back into shape. They kept pointing to the autumn-turned trees, saying they found the color of one strand here, or another there. She didn't mind it. Not even when a feisty two year-old climbed up her torso using her stomach as a foothold.
Except the momentary pain of her little foot seeking purchase on a relatively flat surface wasn't momentary. It burned.
"Oneesan, you have funny hair!"
"Look here!"
"Come play with us!"
Her stomach. No, not her stomach, her lungs. No, just beneath her heart. She couldn't identify what was burning, just that it was. Fuck it hurt. Considering her current predicament, being tugged in every direction, she had two options: smile and burn, or be decidedly less masochistic and escape to search for some painkillers.
The second option sounded better, much better. Plus, her head was starting to hurt from translating so many voices at once. She hadn't spoken Japanese consistently since she'd last visited her grandparents, and that was three years ago.
"If you'll excuse me, my boss wanted me back by now," she lied innocently, bracing herself against the onslaught of pouting that was suddenly blasted her way. "But I'll be back to play with you guys soon."
"You mean the tall scary man, or the pretty one?" One of the older girls asked, her face distinctly dreamy, an all too familiar expression. Evie had to fight the urge to roll her eyes or giggle—or cry, crying worked too. It hurt. Noll probably hadn't planned for the reaction of his presence in a house of preteen girls. Sure, he's pretty. Until you grow up with him and you realize what a know-it-all prat he can be.
"I would say the pretty one, but his ego needs no help from me," she clarified more to herself, but they took it as a dismissal anyway,
With some difficulty, she managed to get to her feet despite the protests and dart towards the house. A cursory glance backwards revealed that her brief stint in the limelight was already forgotten. Their attention was now on what looked like a flower, probably the last to bloom for the season. She almost smiled at their fickle natures, except a cough bubbled in her throat.
Then another. And another, and now she was having a fit. Wonderful. This is my karmic retribution for bitch-slapping Noll, isn't it? A cold would be just her luck.
Another five minutes, and she found herself in the communal bathroom on their floor, staring at a chunk of her hair and wondering how she got there. Trying valiantly to stare at a chunk of her hair, as her vision flickered in and out of focus rapidly, like a malfunctioning camera. Her headache of frustration felt more like a migraine now, or maybe knives in her temples.
The burning fanned out along her diaphragm, singeing her insides every time she took a rattling breath.
"What's wrong with me?" she asked the mirror, reaching a shaky hand to touch the unnaturally white face glaring at her from the glass. The burning coiled hotter, brighter, hotter, brighter, spreading further and reaching deeper and she couldn't breathe, think, move, am I dying, she couldn't help but add hands clutched her ribs, as if to smother the flames but her skin was cool beneath the cotton of her t-shirt. What's happening, she thought, because her throat felt like sandpaper and even the thought of speaking made her want to cough.
"Evie?" the voice preceded the rapping of knuckles on the bathroom door, and she prayed whoever it was, Koujo her mind insisted, would just leave. It would pass in a moment. Whatever was happening, it would pass. Or she'd die. Either option sounded wonderful right about now. "Are you alright?"
"Fine," she growled in Japanese, because she couldn't manage enough breathe for an 'f'. Just go away, please, go away.
"What was that coughing fit?" Damn, she thought she wasn't in frame. Of course he'd pick up on something so miniscule. Her stomach clenched violently.
"Allergies." Please, Koujo. Read my mind for once, and just leave me be.
He didn't. "You don't have any."
He would remember that. Evie scrambled for something to say, but she couldn't focus long enough to lie convincingly. Like he'd believe her even if she could. The searing heat was blistering now, hotter than ever, melting her from the inside.
"Evie, I'm coming in," he warned, probably panicking at her lack of response but she couldn't care to react. The doorknob jangled as he tried it, and finding it locked, a piercing whistle broke the air. Damn it.
Before the door could open, before Lin managed to spot her at the mirror, before his feet could even slap the tile, it stopped. Her vision, the burning, everything just…stopped.
She hid the lock of hair in her palm. "Wow, that was especially dramatic for you." Nothing, not even a tingle. In her peripheral, she saw the color return to her face, the trembling of her fingers cease. The fire extinguished so suddenly she wondered if she'd ever actually been in pain.
Yet the fine strands tickling the flat of her palm made it real. The bald spot just behind her ear made it very real.
He didn't dignify her dismissal with a verbal response, and stepped into her personal space, eyes locked on her face. There was always that feeling of being pulled apart and coming back together whenever he looked at her like that, or whenever he looked at her in general. It was a disconcerting feeling, but strangely appealing. She felt…whole? Tangible? Distinguishable, maybe.
"I think I've caught a bug or something. Nothing I can't handle," she added when he continued to study her wordlessly, fighting the urge to hide behind a shower curtain as if she were naked. His fingertips skimmed the skin of her shoulder contemplatively, of their own accord.
"Alright," he relented, even going so far as to offer his version of a sheepish smile (squinting his eyes for a fraction of a second), "Come watch the monitors with me. My eyes are getting tired."
Evie smiled, elbowing him in the ribs playfully as she shuffled past him. "The old man admits weakness."
Again he didn't respond, at least not with words, but she saw the smile quirking his lips. She wove her fingers through his and tugged him along with a laugh. As if nothing had happened. As if a heavy weight hadn't settled over her chest. As they descended the narrow, u-shaped stairs, her spine was drenched in cold, terrified anticipation.
She hadn't felt the worst of it yet.
"I hate to say it, but I'm impressed, young man. Calling back so soon?"
"You flatter me, dearest. I just couldn't stand to be without your voice any longer." Yasu's voice sounded strange over the phone, Mai decided. Like his ridiculousness was concentrated in every tinny disruption. Whatever it was, Bou-san looked even redder than he normally did after their typical 'secretly requited love' banter, muttering a threatening 'young man' under his breath. Really, one would think he'd gotten used to it by now.
"Stop flirting and tell us what you got. Lin-san looks ready to sick one of his shiki on you," she admonished through her smothered laughter, pointedly ignoring the vicious (for a teddy bear) glare thrown her way courtesy of her pseudo-dad. He should know better than to try such undermined tactics on her. She worked for Naru, after all.
At the thought of her moody boss, her stomach tightened. No, she was alright now. She took a short, blissfully dreamless nap, and she was fine. No resentment here.
Yeah, right.
"Nonsense, Taniyama-san," Lin interjected from his seat at the conference table, trusty laptop on hand, looking distinctly relaxed for some unidentifiable reason that she couldn't help but think had to do with Evie, "I wouldn't waste that much energy on a menial task when Naru could handle it with more…finesse."
"Ooh, threats of Big Boss. I guess now that I'm quivering in my boots sufficiently, I can share what I learned," Yasu relented theatrically, and there was a shuffling on the other line, "We'll have to continue our chat later tonight, my love."
Only Yasu could make the word 'chat' sound filthy. Mai had to physically restrain Bou-san from a futile attempt to smack his disembodied voice. With her legs, after some oh-so graceful flailing into proper position. She sighed internally. Such was her life, it seemed. The older man huffed childishly, but sat back without any further melodramatics.
"Honestly you two, with the way you tease each other I'm surprised you're not running off to consummate your love, Houshou," commented Ayako from the couch, nail file in hand and smirk barely noticeable behind a curtain of red hair. That's it, she's dead.
"Come on, Ayako! I just got him down!"
Bou-san shoved her legs off him with indignation. "I'm not a baby, Mai. I wasn't going to dignify that blasphemy with a response."
"Ooh, kudos on the vocab, babe."
She turned a glare to the unseeing voice over the phone. "Don't you start Yasu."
"Put your glare away, Mai-chan. You're too cute to be threatening," he admonished, and she could hear the fiendish grin.
"It scares Naru into submission," she reminded him pointedly.
"Moot point, Mai-chan. Anything of the cute, tiny, and/or fuzzy persuasion can be considered the bane of Naru's existence." A blush swept across her cheekbones, but his qualifier achieved the desired effect. She sank into the chair's cushions, wondering if it were physically possible to disappear within them. "But that's another topic entirely. Lin-san, are you ready?"
The Chinese man merely grunted his acquiesce.
"I managed to interview Sato Takajin-san, the man who was pushed out of the window. He's been…" there was a pause, and some loud shifting, as Yasu seemed to struggle with words. A feat, given he'd never failed to find them before, "he's been paralyzed from the waist down, but he was wiling enough to talk to me."
Mai rubbed at her own throat absentmindedly, where the bruises were beginning to yellow. She was lucky, she realized. The ghost, if he were the cause, could've broken her. "That's terrible."
"The good news is that the doctors think it's temporary. He should recover in time."
"Did he share the circumstance of his accident?" Lin interjected bluntly, but with admittedly more tact than most of the members could manage (Naru).
Yasu hummed the affirmative. "According to Sato-san, it wasn't an accident. He was pushed deliberately."
"By whom?" Bou-san inquired as he leaned closer to the phone subconsciously, hand tucked under his chin in thought.
"He claims to have been pushed by a boy, but in the accounts of Hamasaki-san and Sato-san's wife, neither mentioned any boys in the room. In fact, the only other person present was Maiko-chan, the little girl they've adopted. Sato-san was hugging her at the time."
Ayako tipped her head to the side in confusion. "They were at which stage of the adoption process?"
"I believe they said they were signing the final papers. Maiko-chan was leaving with them that day. Why?"
"Typically parents looking to adopt must complete a lengthy process that includes home visits, multiple visits to the orphanage, a trial in which the child lives with them for a period of time, and a series of documents," Lin explained, much to Mai's confusion. He didn't seem the type to be so knowledgeable about such a subject. But then, he's friends with Naru, and Naru was adopted. It was possible that he'd garnered the information from him.
"So Sato-san and his wife would've been there before," she deduced without her old upward inflection, already turning possibilities in her mind. Jealousy over not being adopted? But he didn't attack the wife. Fear of men? But he attacked me. It was a cycle, find a theory and disprove it, searching until she found one that didn't have holes. Mai frowned. There just wasn't enough information to form a solid conclusion.
Ayako nodded. "In that case, why wasn't he attacked before?"
"Something was different this time, obviously. Could it be the finalization that set it off?" Bou-san mused aloud, brow furrowed. Mai wondered if he didn't have the same explanations tumbling in his head too.
"Possibly. When I called the others, they mentioned having been at the home to finalize the adoption of their daughters."
Lin looked up from his laptop, eyes narrowed. "Others?"
"Yeah, Umemoto Hakuba and Noya Baku. They were both hospitalized after visiting the orphanage," Yasu explained warily, the phone crackling, "you didn't know about them?"
"We were not informed of any additional witnesses, no."
A humorless chuckle. "That makes sense. I heard if from Sato-san's doctor that this was the third person he'd treated after being injured at the home, not Shibuya-san's notes." A note of graveness had invaded Yasu's cheer. Rarely did clients withhold information as pertinent as that. "Big Boss won't be happy, will he?"
Rarely, unless they were too frightened, like the Yoshimi family, meaning Mai was right about at least one thing; the ghost was very volatile.
"No, I can't imagine he would be," the onmyouji deadpanned, pinching the bridge of his nose, "If the attack was one isolated event, there wouldn't be cause to worry. It could be written off as an accident, or the man's delusion. Now that there are multiple incidents, we will have to take precautions when handling this case that were unforeseen. We may be ill-equipped to deal with them."
Tension buzzed among the group, unbroken by the static of Yasu's silence or John's cheerful face as he waved from the monitors. Mai wished he was in the room with them instead of noting changes on the map of the grounds. His presence always proved to be a balm in uncomfortable situations.
"Well," Yasu began, having reached his threshold of awkward silence, "it seems Umemoto-san was attacked by a fourteen year-old boy. He'd been holding hands with his adopted daughter, when out of nowhere one of the older boys began to assault him. When the boy was questioned, he claimed to have no recollection of the event. Luckily, Umemoto-san only suffered a few scratches and bruises, so the boy was not charged."
"Sounds like possession to me," Ayako concluded. Mai was hesitantly inclined to agree.
"I won't make any comment about that. Noya-san was helping his disabled daughter down the steps when he was pushed. There had been no one behind them at the time. His injuries were more severe than Umemoto-san's. A broken leg and dislocated shoulder, I think."
One word struck Mai over the others. Daughter. He was hugging his daughter, holding hands with his daughter, helping his daughter down the stairs. "Yasu, none of the witnesses were adopting boys, right?"
"That's right." A sound like turning pages. "All three men adopted girls. Where are you going with this Mai-chan?"
She ignored the eyes that were suddenly turned curiously to her. "Did you manage to get the ages of the girls?"
"7, 10, and 11." Yasu laughed, "I think Mai-chan has noticed a pattern."
"Pretty young, then," Bou-san commented, a slow grin stretching on his face. Before she could prepare for the impact, his hand collided jovially with her back, "Nice prying, Jou-chan."
Ayako pinched her chin affectionately. "Look at you, Mai, making connections."
Her face was no-doubt turning a lovely shade of red, but she couldn't help the proud grin. Even if she wasn't quite satisfied yet. "We should check the stairs and floors for any defects just to rule that out, but the coincidence is too uncanny."
"I agree, Taniyama-san. We need more conclusive data, but the presence of a spirit seems the most likely explanation," Lin added as he tried to hide an impressed smile. Mai was proving quite the observant investigator. Noll had better figure that out soon, or there'd be hell to pay.
"Has Hara-san seen anything?" Yasu inquired, and Mai sunk back as they began to speculate, a yawn bubbling in her throat. She hadn't slept well on the ride over.
"She says, and I quote, 'it won't manifest itself clearly'," Ayako drawled, looking distinctly annoyed at the mention of the medium.
"Assuming Mai's profile is right, it would make sense for the spirit to have possessed that boy, but it doesn't explain why he's attacking men adopting girls." Mai noted distantly that Bou-san had the tendency to speculate as if he were talking to himself aloud.
"Maybe the spirit is a girl? The rooms could've changed."
Lin shook his head before realizing Yasu couldn't see him. "Hamasaki-san mentioned the set-up of the rooms being original to the foundation of the home. Even the furniture is original."
"No offense, Jou-chan, but I'm leaning more towards the ghost being a girl. If she were a young girl who died before being adopted, her jealousy could provoke an attack," the monk postulated meekly, shrinking away from his pseudo-daughter as if she were going to hit him.
Meanwhile the smile had slipped off Mai's face. Something wasn't right. Her stomach clenched painfully, twisted and churned and she felt sick. It's a boy. A boy. But at the same time, something about 'girl' didn't sound entirely wrong. Half-true. Ugh. It would be freaking wonderful if for once her intuition were a little (a lot) more specific.
"It's a boy. I…I can't say how I know, and I can't prove it, but I just…know." She touched an absentminded hand to her chest. "At the same time, when you said it could be a girl, that didn't feel wrong, but not quite right either. It's…hard to explain."
Ayako and Bou-san shared a long look.
"Okay," he relented, smiling lopsidedly and resting a hand on top of her head.
"Okay?"
He ruffled her hair. "We'll figure it out. That's our job, right?"
John managed to edit the map of the grounds without incident, even waiting for Masako's dainty steps to catch up. Evie kept the children at bay, while simultaneously avoiding injury and rerecording temperatures for the lower floors. Naru and Lin had no problem while transcribing the children's accounts of noises in the night and invisible friends. Bou-san and Ayako didn't slice off a finger helping Umi-san prepare dinner.
So why the hell was she the only one who got hurt? Oh, that's right, because she always gets hurt.
"You should be more careful," Lin admonished softly, dabbing an alcohol-soaked cotton ball to the scrape on her knee. It stung, but after three hospital trips (though the last one was definitely unnecessary, a jammed finger, Bou-san, really?) in the two-month span when she was promoted to investigator, her pain threshold was really more of a comfortable living room.
"I was walking up the stairs." And to think she'd avoided hurting herself on that very theatre just this morning.
Lin smirked as he smoothed a bandage over the abrasion. "Exactly my point."
Oliver watched the exchange with an unidentifiable queasiness. It was something like nausea, which could very well be equated to the questionable meal Ayako had set in front of him an hour ago. Certainly her glare couldn't have aided the digestion of said questionable meal either. Mai's laugh punctuated some cheeky response he'd missed in his introspection, and the churning feeling intensified. There was a rational explanation as to why he felt the need to inflict pain upon his teacher, and to why guilt bubbled in his chest whenever he looked at Mai. Why his heart beat erratically when she came into view. He simply hadn't discovered it yet.
"I find it utterly unsurprising that you managed to hurt yourself in less than a day. After all that is about the only thing we can count on from you." The words tumbled off his tongue with more malice than he typically pretended, and he regretted them immediately. It didn't seem right, after this afternoon especially, to play their old game, even if he never passed up on an opportunity to incite her temper before. Mai was a study in contrast and raw unrestraint, fascinating in her blink-of-the-eye emotions and giveaway expressions. There was never a moment when he couldn't read exactly what thoughts tempested in her mind. Except for this afternoon, he reminded himself, remembering how blank her face had been.
Even as he thought, her face fell. "Noll," Lin began, but Mai held up her hand.
"Thank you Lin-san, but I can handle it." He acknowledged her dismissal with a curt nod and backed up. He didn't leave though, Oliver noted, watching him commandeer a discreet corner by the door. They'd have an audience, it seemed.
She met his gaze steadily. "I tripped."
"Something you do often, if I remember correctly," he agreed without hesitation, even as his mind screamed for him to step carefully. Or possibly it was the glare Lin had fixed in his direction. Fix it. Mai stood slowly, and he noticed her legs trembling. Her hands were in fists at her side. This wasn't right. She didn't measure her emotions the way he did. They burst from her with the slightest prompting. This wasn't right. "Thank you for proving my point."
"Yes. My balance isn't the best," she conceded, but only just so. Her eyes were burning familiarly, but her face was all wrong. Too relaxed. "I'll probably always be clumsy."
"I expect nothing less." He had the feeling of being trapped in a mine field, but he couldn't stop himself. One ill-placed step…
Her control was slipping, the trembling of her legs leaching into her arms and her fists. Tears pooled in her eyes, but they were angry tears. He'd seen them enough to tell the difference.
"How dare you," she hissed, voice cracking. Oliver furrowed his brow unconsciously. Her temper burned hot but fizzled quickly, like the quick boom of fireworks rather than the slow crackling fire. "I don't think it says anywhere in my contract that you're allowed to treat me like dirt."
She was referencing their earlier altercation, he knew, and it was unexpected. Mai was never subtle in her anger. There was no processing, only reaction, a true, unadulterated temper. He found himself wondering for the first time what was going through her mind to make her so….calculating.
"Don't call me useless." Her cheeks were red, her eyes watering, but her voice was low and quivering. More dangerous.
He said nothing, unsure of how to respond but certain her piece wasn't done. Nothing about this moment computed with the way he knew her to be. In his mind he went through scenarios, countless memories of impetuousness, looking for one that would explain this new phenomena. Nothing. The upset was escalating rapidly, and he was left behind, clambering to catch up. Lin smiled grimly from his perch at the back wall. You have this coming, that look said.
"You don't get to treat me that way. Not if you're serious. I am not stupid. I'm a good investigator, even if I haven't written six books." The tears had spilled, and when she spoke the words were strained and broken. The nausea was back, but stronger now, mingling with guilt and the feeling of being cruel. Her quip felt like a slap. She read my books. "Madoka's been teaching me. She took me to meditation classes so we could start training my powers. I'm not useless anymore." She hiccupped, and the sound constricted in his throat. Another surprise, and he was thrown out of sort all over again. Trained, meditation, investigator, I didn't see it.
"You left." The words tripped from her mouth, clumsy and unheeded, utterly honest but he knew she hadn't meant to say them.
For a fleeting second, he hated her, or maybe himself but he couldn't tell the difference, not at the moment. He'd had to leave. He'd had to leave so he could bury his brother.
"Would you rather I'd stayed?" his grief ground out scathingly, mercilessly, and Oliver cringed. Idiot scientist.
Her expression contorted. "You can't leave and expect it not to hurt the ones who care about you." I didn't ask you to care. "You can't come back and expect everything to be the same! You have no right!" She'd lost her restraint, voice rising in volume until the last word broke on a scream.
He blinked, the mask shattered. Mai stood there, eyes wide but mouth pressed together in a thin line, quivering from head to toe. He wanted to say something, apologize, ask about her lessons, speak her name, anything. He didn't. He couldn't.
Lin stepped aside as Mai darted past, shaking his head.
She ran past a very confused Evie and a group of chattering girls, making a beeline for their shared room. Her bed was waiting for her to sink into it and sob, or sleep, or do anything but be near him. She felt like an idiot, for getting so angry over something so normal, something that typically rolled off her back. For having to prove herself to him. For wanting to.
Mai slammed her door shut behind her and sat stiffly on the cushy mattress. Nothing like the respectable futon she had waiting at home. Deep breaths, she thought, shutting her eyes and willing the tension from her limbs, at least so she could stop shaking. In, one-two, out, one-two. One by one her muscles relaxed, and the tightening sadness in her throat loosened. This was better. She could analyze her emotions more detachedly this way.
She hadn't known why she was angry until the words had left her mouth. You left. For two months she'd trained under Madoka's tutelage. They took every crackpot case just so she could practice. She meditated, read, wrote reports, analyzed findings, performed purifications, so much work because she had to. If she wanted to stay with her family, if she wanted to be more useful and less a liability, she had to learn. She did so wholeheartedly.
Only to have her hard work brushed aside. Anger burned in her chest, but she quelled it as best she could. She had grown, even in such a short time, had been changing every day she worked with Naru.
She'd followed them to the airport, through security and to the gate without their knowledge. They had planned to leave quietly, but Mai wasn't satisfied. She wanted a proper goodbye, alone with the people who'd started her family.
It was worth the hassle of airport security to see their faces unheeded in their surprise. Lin smiled and welcomed her with a hand at her shoulder. The contact was new, but her heart was suddenly much lighter. They were friends, weren't they?
"I'm glad you came," he stated simply, taking her hand and folding her shock-pliant fingers around a piece of paper.
Mai looked at the harmlessly folded sheet of white in her palm with the most profound confusion. "What is this?"
"My phone number and my mailing address." He sort of swiped his nose with his thumb, a nervous gesture she hadn't noticed from him before. "Keep in touch, Taniyama-san."
It took a moment for his words to register, and even then she was confused. Keep in touch? That implied he actually wanted to talk to her at some point. She was certain her face was utterly dumbfounded as she looked between the paper in her hands and the notably uncomfortable Chinese man.
But soon enough, she got over it. Her arms went around his waist of their own accord. Had she been conscious of it she would've gone for his neck, even if his height was a challenge.
"I'll miss you, Lin-san."
After a moment of awkward deliberation, his arms encircled her in a stiff embrace. "I'll miss you too, Mai-chan." He released her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Stay out of trouble."
"I'll try," she managed through her combined giggling and sniffling, freaking out a bit because Lin had shown over three affectionate gestures in the past five minutes.
Naru was watching their exchange disinterestedly. Part of her was sad at his refusal to show some sign that he'd appreciated her presence. The other was content in that he didn't look as deadened as he had the last few days. That he stood with his usual nonchalance, a stark black outline against the white of the airport.
"Goodbye, Naru-chan." She didn't dare hug him, but she stepped closer, invading his personal space and forcing his eyes down to hers.
"My name is Oliver, Mai. You know that," he reminded her, not unkindly, his eyes soft.
She shook her head, smiling through the tears that were building in her vision. "No, you're Naru. I'll miss you, too."
The stewardess was calling their seats, but Naru kept looking at her, an unreadable expression on his face. Mai didn't have the heart to look away.
Then he nodded, and the spell was broken. With one last half-smile, just barely a turning of his lips, he was gone through the gate, Lin in tow.
He hadn't said goodbye. Lin had, and even if she only called him once when she'd been in the hospital, at least he'd made the effort to contact her. But Naru, she'd never expected to see him again, to even talk to him again. Maybe that was the problem. She had never blamed him for leaving. He had a life in England, a real family, not the one she'd created through her own will. He needed to leave, and she'd begun (without much, or any, success) the laborious task of relentlessly prodding her feelings until she could move past them. He was gone, and she'd forgiven him.
But she hadn't forgiven him for coming back.
It was too confusing. She wanted him here. I prepared myself that he wouldn't be. She wanted to work for him again. I want to work with him. She wanted to prove to him that she could be a good investigator. I wanted to prove it to myself. She resented him. I love him.
Mai couldn't handle these thoughts right now. She was a seventeen year-old in a haunted house who'd not only recently experienced rapid emotional growth and heartbreak but the true, adult version of falling in love. There was only so much turmoil her brain could process before it shut down permanently. Inhale, one-two, exhale, one-two. The tension that had returned against her will seeped away with the exhaustion of her day.
She fell asleep with her clothes still on.
There were no lights in her dreamscape. It was almost jarring, to wake up to such utter black, but after Gene stopped leading her into these vision this was always how it started. Nothingness, the strange, wobbly sensation of walking on a surface that didn't really exist, the quiet anticipation and stillness. She just had to wait, for a shove that would land her in someone else's body, for the scene to twist into a play-like memory, for the black to fade into color.
She should probably work on her patience next.
After a few minutes (or hours, she could never accurately guess the time passing in this place) of wandering aimlessly, she found what she was waiting for. A dot in the distance she hadn't registered seeing, but had walked towards anyway became first a shape, then a figure. The outline became sharper, defined the closer she came, until she could make out the hunched back of someone cradling his knees to his chest. It was a boy, probably a few years younger than her. From the size of his curled up shape he hadn't hit a growth spurt yet. His head was lowered into the crook of his knees, hiding his face.
When she was less than five feet away, she heard the muttering. "Don't touch her. Don't touch her," over and over like a mantra. This close she could see him rocking back and forth minutely, his shoulders tight and slender. The shirt he wore looked old, like something out of a vintage magazine.
"Are you alright, do you need help?" she asked instinctively, even if she knew this was a vision, and he couldn't actually hear her.
"Don't touch her," he murmured, making no indication that he'd heard her questions. She took a hesitant step towards him.
"I'm Mai. What's your name?"
The muttering stopped. He was on his feet, facing her as if he'd never been otherwise. Body unfolded, he was taller than she'd expected, lean with gangly arms that hung too far and too stiff at his side. Fourteen, probably. Now that she could see his face, she wished she couldn't, at least not his eyes.
There was nothing strange about them, not physically. Pale green, pretty and gem-like. Except they stared through her. They didn't glow, they radiated raw and uncontained. No life, only hatred. Her spine tingled the longer he gazed at her. She wanted to run.
He was gone. Blackness. Nothingness. The not-air stretched her lungs, satisfying in her relief. While certainly strange, it hadn't been her worst vision. She'd take creepy eyes over first-person death any day.
Now to wait for an ungraceful crash back into her body. One heartbeat.
Nothing happened.
Another, she was still here. Panic set its roots in her chest, but she shoved it down. Patience.
Bum-bum.
Bum-bum.
"I'll kill him."
Bum-bum.
Her heart dropped in between beats. Right at her ear, but she was too locked to turn. Her eyes shut, but cutting off her sight meant she could feel his breath more distinctly. Bum-bum. Come on. Bum-bum.
Something hard and flat, ramming into the small of her back. She was falling forward before the pain had hit her.
When Mai woke up, her back was throbbing purple. Much worse than the quickly yellowing ring around her neck, she'd noted whilst poking the red-ringed bruise, and distinctly foot-shaped. Sometimes, she wished she could be even remotely surprised that these things happened to her. At least I didn't fall down a hole this time.
Now she was surrounded by children (strangely for the first time since arriving). Literally on all sides, closed in, captured by an army of younglings who seemed determined to discover every miniscule detail about her life while simultaneously elbowing her in the ribs. Couple that with the stickers poked onto her arms with conspicuous guile, and the two almost-chokings, and she'd never known eating breakfast could be such a hazardous battleground.
Mai loved it. At times like this, she really adored her job.
"Who you talking to Ryouko-chan?" a particularly high-pitched voice cut through the din, not far down from where Mai was seated amongst the six year-olds. Her head turned to follow the direction of the ignored question instinctively.
She sat at the end of the table, not alone but somehow the minimal space between her and the girl who'd called her name seemed vast. Like she was cut from a picture and taped back in, not entirely a part of the bustling scene. Her head was down, but even from here Mai could see the dark brown of her eyes twinkling beneath the light. She looked utterly engrossed, animated as she chatted discreetly with someone across from her.
There was no one. The seat was empty.
The girl, Ryouko, giggled appreciatively at nothing and hopped from her chair, tray in hand, before Mai could think of a non-creepy/invasive way to interrogate her. She took a mental note. Ryouko, probably twelve, talking to no one. Interview soon.
By the time she'd made it back to base (i.e. escaped a war prison of prepubescent limbs with a poorly executed smiley face drawn in the vicinity of her elbow), everyone else had apparently been there for quite some time. They were gathered around the monitors, elbowing each other for space. All except her boss, who stood by the window, his back to Mai. Her heart dropped into her stomach, making sure to punch her kidneys on the way there.
Evie noticed her first, as she was standing by the doorway with a stray three-year-old on her hip. "Good morning Mai-chan!"
"Morning!" she greeted, tacking on her obligatory smile before she turned her attention to the adorably plump little boy staring at her with shy fascination. "What's this little guy doing here?"
"I found him following Naru at breakfast, and he's just too cute to put down." Her fingers tickled along his ribs as she cooed, earning a squealing giggle and a face shoved none too delicately into her shoulder.
Mai smothered an unexpected laugh. "Following Naru? Why?"
"I haven't the faintest idea, but you should've seen it. Infallible Nature Boy was actually performing evasive maneuvers after the first ten minutes. Any longer and I fear he would've resorted to hiding in the broom cupboard." She spoke so evenly, so nonchalantly that Mai wasn't quite sure if she was joking, but laughed raucously anyway. The image was just too much. "Speaking of Naru, you'll have to tell me what you did to him last night. He looks a little….dazed this morning."
…..and the heart-dropping-kidney-punching feeling was back. Great. "We got in a fight, I overreacted, nothing unusual. I'm over it." Maybe.
Evie didn't look very convinced. "Are you sure?"
"Yep!" She winced internally at her overly happy pep. Blame it on the coffee I didn't drink.
"Well, make up soon. I want little psychic nieces and nephews sometime in the next five years," the empath relented and started for the monitors. Too quickly, Mai thought, and then she'd registered what Evie actually said.
"Oh come on, does everyone know?" She's only been in the freaking country for five days! Am I really that obvious?
She nodded mercilessly, a bounce sneaking into her step as she neared the remainder of their group. "Everyone but him."
Mai groaned. Yep, she was that obvious.
"It should be somewhere around here," John hazarded, leaning into Lin's personal space but too focused to notice. His awkward accent (which had improved, she noted for the first time) was a welcome reprieve from the embarrassment blooming along her cheekbones.
"You said that five minutes ago," Ayako pointed out, or whined, only to yelp at the sharp pinch courtesy of Bou-san to her hip. Boyfriend or no, he was going to die for that, Mai thought, amused. Distantly, she was wondering if Naru and Lin even knew they'd been dating since September, if they'd even thought to ask. If they'd be surprised when they found out. Probably not.
The priestess went ignored. "There! Turn up the audio."
Just as Mai came to a stop behind Masako, the speakers exploded in a crackling cacophony.
Bou-san scrambled to kill the reverberating screams, one hand clamped futilely over his ear. "What the heck was that?"
"Around 2 AM, everyone in the house screamed," John explained, hand at his chin contemplatively, almost like Naru exactly if he weren't, well, blond and short and charmingly innocent, "Yet none of you woke up, and there was nothing out of the ordinary at the time."
"What about the cameras?" Mai wondered aloud, leaning in close over Lin's shoulder to get a better view of the lower monitors. She pretended not to notice when he tipped forward to avoid any possibly contact. It wasn't as if she could avoid invading the ten-foot radius of personal space he required at all times. Absolutely ridiculous.
"Nothing, just a lot of dust," the priest half-grumbled, almost impatiently, but she noted the dark smudges beneath his eyes and decided exhaustion (barely) sharpened his tongue. She didn't, however, notice her shirt riding up as she subconsciously tilted even closer to the monitor. (Not that she would've normally; the pale blue t-shirt was probably a size too small. Oh the woes of a working student.)
Naru, of course, did. "Mai."
Her spine did some strange clenching/twisting/spasm thing at the sound of her name. Maybe if I ignore him, he'll just go away.
"Lift up your shirt." No such luck. At least the poorly phrased command allowed her some rational indignation.
"No!"
John tried. He really did. "Um, Shibuya-san, don't you think that's a little—."
"Wrong, very, very wrong!" Bou-san finished for him, his eyebrow twitching the way it did when he went all 'protective father' on her. Where's that hole when I need it? she half-pleaded, half-groaned in her mind. Yes, this was her life apparently.
And then Naru said the two words that would make the situation thirty times worse. "She's injured."
All eyes turned to her, as if she weren't embarrassed enough.
"It's a bruise. You know, popped blood vessels? I'm fine," she explained, turning a well-deserved glare to her boss, who was, notably, already in deep shit with her, "I am not lifting my shirt just so you can poke at it."
"What happened?" he relented, beating Ayako to the punch.
"It's just a transferred injury from a dream, which I was fully planning to talk about anyway." He didn't seem very convinced, but she didn't particularly care if he was or not. Fighting him on stuff like this was just…exhausting. His eyebrow rose elegantly, notebook in hand even if she had no idea where he'd pulled it from. Signals to continue.
"I found him sitting and muttering something. I think it was 'Don't touch her, or something along those lines," she recounted, staring at the wall behind his head so she wouldn't have to see their analytical faces, "When I tried talking to him, he disappeared. I heard him say 'I'll kill him', then he kicked me and I woke up."
The only other sounds in the room were the whirring of the monitors and his pen scribbling messy scrawl along the lines of his black casebook. Familiar sounds, comforting, and she closed her eyes to listen more completely. She could hear everyone's breathing, out of time and sync, the curious gurgling of the baby. Footsteps upstairs and in the halls and distant laughter. It was centering, this suspended moment. Focusing.
"Mai." His even voice broke the not-silence. For once, her name was not a reprimand, not a warning. She looked at him.
"Tea."
And she smiled, much to the confusion of pretty much everyone on the team, because that was a Naru 'Good Job' if ever she'd heard one.
Gene loved these experiments, though he couldn't pinpoint exactly why. It could be the bustle. He'd always enjoyed a bit of chaos. Perhaps the nurses on hand in case one or both of them fainted (again), with their work-place inappropriate skirts.
"Ready Gene?" his father breathed, brown eyes sparkling excitedly as he pushed the electrodes more firmly to his temples. Of course he was ready. All he had to do was sit there and play catch. At least, that's how he'd always thought of it. He nodded with a grin.
"How about you, Noll?" Martin received no answer in response. The aforementioned boy was too busy scowling aggressively at one of the observers. If he were a bird, Gene imagined his feathers would be quite ruffled.
It was probably the look on his brother's face that made all the poking and prodding worth it. That level of discomfort was absolutely priceless.
"Clear the area! We're beginning," some nameless SPR drone called, Madoka's new gopher if he remembered correctly, and the horde of parapsychologists disappeared behind the two-way mirror. Noll followed their retreat with a scathing glare, probably hoping for a mass, spontaneous combustion. Sorry little brother, but pyrokinesis is not our skill, he thought with far too much amusement, and a touch of gratitude. The world would not survive their existence should that have been the case.
He hopped up on the examination table to the far left, just barely in frame of the camera so that the eye would automatically be drawn to Noll. Martin's suggestion, when they'd first started their trials two years ago. His feet swung back and forth, an even rhythm as he waited for his twin to position himself. Back and forth, back and forth, out of sight, in sight, out, in. The air crackled.
"Give 'em a show, Noll!" he called cajolingly, and Martin sent him a feigned disapproving shake of the head. More for the benefit of the man behind the curtain than his.
"Focus, Gene," Oliver managed, but he was already halfway gone. An undulating mass of air had settled over him, pulsing along their link, and Gene smiled. His palms were already tingling in preparation, but no shocks. Noll was getting better at stemming the leaks.
He wondered what they thought, the cynics hiding behind the glass. If they were sifting through dry ice, or tampered glass, or hallucinogenic drugs. If they looked for the seam in the luminescent gloves. They wouldn't believe that the glow emanated from his skin. Which was ridiculous. Anyone who bothered looking closer could see the lines of brighter, hotter gold that traced haphazard paths up his arms. Just a few seconds more. The weightless feeling had already spread to his limbs, and his hands had begun the catching motion Lin had taught him. Noll was trembling along the spine, but his hands were steady, cupping a little sphere of light. Just a few seconds more. The stupid aluminum block waited. 50 kilos, always.
Noll looked at him, and this was Gene's least favorite part. He knew the control it took for the preliminary pass, but he'd never really understand the look of pure agony twisting his brother's expression, no matter how briefly. Just throw it, he willed, and if it slipped through the link he didn't particularly care.
He tried to look nonchalant as the little ball of energy flew towards him. It was always a rush. An explosion of tingles, then the weightlessness seeping into every limb, every sense felt heightened. He could hear his heart beating, the whispers of the doctors. He could feel the air on his skin, like a thousand fingertips. And it would only get more potent. His palms prickled as he willed the ball to siphon more energy from Noll, let it pulse and grow until it could no longer fit in his hands.
Much like a baseball, he tossed it back.
Okay, now that you've finished reading, I will grovel for your forgiveness.
I'M SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING FASTER I'M A HORRIBLE PERSON FORGIVE ME!
Yep, that happened. Hope you enjoyed! I'm still not sure how I feel about this chapter...