Trigger warning: mentions of rape and sexual assault, as well as violence.

Apologies for typos. I'm tired and this is basically 10,000 words long so if I missed something, bah humbug.

EDITED A BIT BUT NOTHING MAJORLY CHANGED. 25/2/18.

Part three
Day 2

She knew she was dreaming because she was barefoot in snow, and she wasn't cold at all.

Mai blinked, and looked around. She was standing at an intersection of two dirt roads. Above her, the sky was black. There ought to have been stars, she thought, but since it was a dream, they were missing, and it didn't seem odd. Next to her was a signpost, but it was so worn that she couldn't make out what it said. She really ought to be frozen stiff, she realized. She was in a miniskirt and torn lacy tights, and there were goosebumps all up and down her arms. Her nose was running. She sniffed, and wiped her face with the back of her hand. She was wearing torn fingerless gloves, and her fingertips were blue. Now that she'd sobered up, she was finally starting to feel the cold. Her skin burned. There was nothing she could see, not in any direction. No houses, no lights—not even any trees. Low in her guts, something clenched. She thought it might have been nervousness.

Out of the corner of her eye, something flashed. Headlights. Mai squealed, and jumped up and down, waving her arms. She'd been here for hours, and this was the first truck she'd seen. She nearly fell over when she landed on her numb feet wrong. The truck honked, and she thought it was just going to drive right by her, but then it slowed. The driver rolled his window down. "Can I help you?"

"M-M-My boyfriend left me here," she said. At least, she thought he had. Sometimes when she drank too much she couldn't remember things right. "C-C-Can I use your phone? I need to call a cab."

"No cabs'll come this far out," said the man. His face was in shadow. He sounded young, though. Not that much older than her. "It's way too cold out here for you to wait for one anyway."

"Oh." She rubbed her arms. "Um. Okay."

The man sighed, and drummed his fingers against the windshield. Then he hit the locks. "Get in. I'm staying just up the hill. You can warm up and stay the night, and then I'll drive you back to town in the morning."

Mai hesitated. "I mean, I'd really rather just call a cab."

"Honey, you see that sky?" Mai looked up. Suddenly there were clouds in the far distance. "That's gonna roll in within an hour, and then all the roads are gonna be snowed in. Two or three feet most likely. If you stay out here any longer, you're gonna freeze to death. Besides, the onsen has an indoor hot spring. You can stay there tonight, and I'll drive you to town tomorrow, if the weather holds up. That sound good to you?"

She worried her lip. "I—I don't—"

"Here," said the man, and he leaned over, cracked the glove compartment, and drew a hunting knife. Mai nearly screamed, but he didn't unsheathe it. He just offered it to her through the open window, handle first. "If it makes you feel better, hold onto this. And you can sit in the back, with the phone. I promise I won't lock the doors. All right? If you stay out here, though, you're not gonna be in very good shape."

Mai glanced up at the sky again. Then she nodded, reached forward, and took the knife. The wind died, and the car vanished. She turned. Behind her, the onsen loomed, windows dark and doorways warm. Around her, the world was still; she could see for miles, dark earth and light snow. Sapporo was absent, or maybe it had never been there at all; this place was so still she couldn't imagine a bustling city being so close. She couldn't imagine a city like Sapporo at all.

"Mai," said Gene.

He was sitting on the porch steps, hands on his knees, staring out into the snow. He looked just like he always did, just like Naru always did, dark suit, dark hair, gleaming eyes. The difference was when she smiled at him, Gene smiled back. She sat down beside him without a word. Gene tapped his heels against the stairs, and leaned back on his hands. His mouth had tightened. "There's something dark in this house, Mai. I can't see it. But it's tugging."

She chewed her cheek. "What do you mean?"

"It…pulls." He set a hand to his sternum. "Here. It feels like something's reached underneath, like it's trying to yank me off my feet. It's…." Gene searched for a word. "I can't describe it."

"A riptide," said Mai, and then blinked. She hadn't felt anything of the sort while she'd been wandering around the onsen, but there it was, the word, just in her mouth, out in the air before she could stop it. "Just below the surface. Pulling. And we don't know when we wander into it until it's too late."

"Yes," said Gene. "Precisely. But…" He paused. "I think it affects the dead more than the living. You don't feel it as strongly as I do, yet."

Mai hesitated, and then leaned back onto her palms, staring up at the sky. The stars were still missing. If she tried, she could imagine her favorite constellations, Ursa Major and Orion's Belt and Scorpio, all mixed together in a sky that was black as velvet. "I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing." She cocked her head at him. "This all has to do with the girl in the street, doesn't it? The woman on the corner."

"Mm." He frowned. "She's lost, Mai. Very badly lost. I can barely reach her, and I'm—" He spread his arms, as if to say here, or me, or dead, or all of the above. Mai let out a huffing breath.

"Well, that'll make things interesting, at least."

"Depends on your definition of interesting," he said, and she couldn't help it. She smiled a bit. Gene could always make her smile. Even with all of his abilities, Mai thought that that was kind of his best superpower. No matter what was actually happening, in the real world (or the waking world, she corrected herself, because what was real anymore, really?) Gene could always cheer her up.

She wished she'd met him when he'd been alive.

Something cold tightened around her throat. When she put her hand up to her neck, she felt the nail on her index finger crack down the middle. Gene had vanished; the onsen was gone, and she was wearing a collar. She choked. Mai yanked hard on the metal, but all it did was tear at her fingers, break her nails. Blood welled up at the cuticle. She stood in a dank room, small, four close walls that stank of mold and felt like mossy stone. There was something colder than air around her ankle, and when she bent down, she could feel the chains, and the hard iron clasp. The skin underneath felt pinched and shrunken and raw. Whimpering, she tugged at the chain, but all it did was make her arms sore. She couldn't see anything. It was too black. Her heart skipped a little. She could taste blood on her tongue.

"No," she said, "no, no, no." She wasn't supposed to be here. She was supposed to have left, she was supposed to be back in Sapporo, she was supposed to be goneand safe and home. She sobbed, and screamed, and slammed her fists against the wall.

"Let me out!" Her voice broke. She screeched. "LET ME OUT!"

"Hey," someone said, and she whipped around, but there was no one behind her. Something warm and wet hit her forehead, her cheek. She licked her lips and tasted blood. Mai began to cry. "Taniyama-san."

"Let me out of here!" She tugged at the chains, at her collar, at her hair. "Let me out, please, let me out, let me out, letmeout—"

Someone touched her shoulder.

"Taniyama-san" he said. "Wake up. Wake up."

Mai screamed, and lashed out with both hands.

She felt flesh under her knuckles in the instant before someone caught her wrist. The world seemed to spin. When she opened her eyes again, Yasuhara-san and John were looking down at her with big eyes. Yasuhara-san was the one holding her wrist. John had fallen onto his backside, one hand to his eye. She'd punched him. She took a shuddering breath, and then another, and swallowed before she could burst into tears. "Oh," she said. "Oh my god."

"Mai-san," John said. She blinked furiously. "Are you all right?"

She couldn't speak for a moment. Her eyes were burning and her cheeks were damp. She turned her face away. They'd already seen, though. Mai hiccupped twice, and then said, "Nothing. Bad dream. I'm so sorry, John."

He gave her an unsure-but-game smile. "It's all right."

"No, I'm so sorry—let me see your face—"

"Mai-san, it's fine." John crouched, and probed at his eye. She'd only glanced him, but she could already tell that it was going to swell. "I can put ice on it."

"But it's so cold already—"

"It's fine," he said again, "really, Mai-san, I've had much worse. Are you all right?"

She wanted to cry. Mai put a hand to her mouth, and tasted blood. She'd bitten her lip, she realized. She wiped her cheeks again, but it didn't seem to do all that much good. "I don't know," she said after a moment. "It was—it was a nightmare."

Yasuhara-san nodded, but John reached forward, touching her shoulder lightly with his first two fingers. "A nightmare?" he asked. "Or a dream?"

"A dream," she said, and she told them in a shaky voice what she'd seen, from the car ride to the dark room with the chains. She even included Gene. She hadn't seen Gene much since his body had been taken back to the UK to be buried, but he wasn't infrequent. Besides, it wasn't as if everyone didn't already know about him haunting her dreams. There was nothing to be embarrassed about, she told herself, but the tips of her ears and her cheeks felt warm anyway. Thankfully, she was with the two people in the entirety of the SPR (aside, maybe, from Lin-san) who wouldn't have asked her about it. Yasuhara-san teased a lot, but he knew when to keep his mouth shut, and John…well, John was a priest. Of course he wouldn't mention it.

"So something is here," said John, almost under his breath. Mai nodded.

"I—I mean, I felt something when I was in the baths, yesterday, but I haven't since, and I thought—"

Upstairs, there was a loud thump, and then someone shrieked. Yasuhara-san was on his feet and out the door before Mai could do more than flinch. John stayed with her, hand clasped around his rosary; he looked up at the ceiling, and his lips pressed tight together. "Busy night," he said, almost blasé, and Mai couldn't help it. She choked out a laugh.

"I'll say." She rubbed her arms vigorously. There was another crash from upstairs, and then muffled sobs, and Naru's voice, steady and calm. Bou-san chanted a sutra. When she glanced over at the computer, the temperature readings in the master bedroom were dropping like a stone.

"Negative five C," she told John, and he made a note of it before standing, and collecting her borrowed pink jacket. He draped it over her shoulders before she could protest. Mai tucked herself into it with a soft thank you. She was freezing. The living room, too, was cold; almost negative six. Activity, she thought. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to hit you."

He laughed. "It's okay. You're not the first person to punch me in the face." She blinked, but he just steamrolled on. "What's the time?"

3:41, she thought. She didn't have to look around. "Three forty-one."

"Again?"

"Yeah."

"Hm," said John, and rubbed his thumb over the cross on his rosary. "Ishikawa-san was right, then. There's something significant about that number."

Mai cocked her head to the side. "Naru hypnotized them the first night, right? What did he ask?"

"He asked that if the phenomena was man-made, that it cease for a night." He gave her a wry look. "Clearly, since there was an attack last night, too—" she shuddered, remembering it, the way she'd been frozen, so stiff and still she couldn't breathe, couldn't blink "—it's not Erisa-san who's doing it."

Mai scoffed. "I should think not. Eri's not up to something this…"

Evil? Cruel? Unhinged? Who knew? One person's cruelty was another person's poltergeist. She rubbed the end of her nose, and stood. Naru, intrigued by the notion that there were multiple centers, had volunteered her, John, and Yasuhara-san to spend the night in the living room, with some sensors and cameras, to see if something happened again. Well, something did. Maybe tomorrow night she would be able to sleep in the guest room again.

"Mai." It was Yasuhara-san. She hadn't even heard him come down the stairs. "Erisa-san wants you."

"Me?" Mai goggled. "Why?"

"You listened to her, that first day." Yasuhara-san shrugged. "That's what I would guess." On the second floor, the wails had disintegrated into low, pained moans. "Anyway, she asked for you. She's—Naru said some things."

Idiot narcissistic jerk. She scowled. She was going to give Oliver Davis a piece of her mind once all of this was over. "What did he say?"

"He asked whether—" Yasuhara-san glanced at John. "Well, he implied that she wasn't telling the whole truth, about her knowledge of the haunting. It upset her. It—it'd be better if you go upstairs, I think."

Mai pinched the bridge of her nose. "Is she possessed?"

"No."

She shrugged into her coat again, zipping it up (if it was cold in here, it'd be even colder in the bedroom) and went to put on her slippers. Behind her, John stood, and caught her by the wrist. "Mai-san," he said. "Take this, all right?"

With that, he gave her the rosary, folding her fingers over it. Mai stared at him. "John, no—"

He smiled. "Just—do me the favor? Please? I'll worry otherwise."

"But if you don't have this—"

"I'm not the one that's been attacked twice," he said, and she blinked. She wasn't sure if she'd count the dream as an attack, or the moment of stillness last night, but when he put it like that… "Please, Mai-san? It would make me feel better."

She hesitated. Then she nodded, and wrapped the rosary around her wrist. John relaxed a little, and let go of her wrist, going to collect his own coat. He'd settled back at the computer to go over the data when she followed Yasuhara-san up the stairs.

The master bedroom was smaller than most of the guest rooms—it was, after all, an onsen—but it was neatly furnished. It should have been warm. There were two space heaters at the end of the futon, both of them on full blast, but for some reason, when she waved her hand in front of one, it only blasted cold air. Ishikawa-san was wearing a long T-shirt and flannel pajama pants; he glanced up as Mai knocked on the door, and in his arms, Eri flinched. Beside them was Masako, her eyes closed. She looked pale and sick.

"Taniyama-san," he said, and glanced down at his trembling wife. She'd hidden her face in his sleeve. Just inside the door was Ayako, putting up ofuda—she caught Mai's eye, and shook her head once before returning to her task. Naru, Lin-san, and Bou-san were nowhere to be seen. "Thank you for coming upstairs."

"Of course." She stepped over the threshold, and shuddered. It felt as though someone had just drawn a skeletal finger up her spine. It's still here. Whatever it is, it's still here. "Ayako?"

Ayako shook her head once. On the futon, Masako opened her eyes, and nodded. Masako felt it, then. Mai put a hand on Masako's shoulder and squeezed before sitting beside Eri and Ishikawa-san, crossing her legs.

"Eri," she said. "You asked for me?"

For a second, Eri trembled. Then she pulled away from Ishikawa-san and flung herself into Mai's lap. She was sobbing, her shoulders heaving, but she made no sound at all. Mai glanced anxiously up at Ishikawa-san, but he hadn't looked away from his wife. His eyes were glassy and wet. As Ayako slapped up another ofuda, Eri cinched her arms tight around Mai's waist and made a noise that reminded her of a struck puppy. Mai patted her back, because it was the only thing she could think to do.

"There," said Ayako, and slapped the wall. "Everything's up. Masako, do you still feel anything?"

Masako closed her eyes. Mai held her breath, and wondered if she was imagining the hand at the base of her spine. Then the air lightened. "It's gone," said Masako, and sagged a little. "It's gone."

Eri broke again, and sobbed.

"Eri." Mai stroked her hair a few times, helplessly. "Eri, what happened?"

Eri gulped, and shuddered. Then she shook her head, and pressed her face into Mai's shoulder. Behind her, Ishikawa-san sighed, and surreptitiously wiped his eyes. "It happened again," he said. "I—I told you, in Tokyo, that sometimes it…grabs her. It yanked her all the way out of the bed this time."

Mai sucked in a sharp breath, and looked down at Eri's feet. One was missing a sock, and there were deep bruises purpling around her slender ankle bone. Fingerprints. It was a big hand, Mai thought. A man's hand.

The person driving the car, in her dream—that had been a man.

She shivered.

Eri coughed. Then, in a thin little voice, she said, "It doesn't—it doesn't just pull."

Ishikawa-san snapped to attention. Before he could say anything, Masako had seized his wrist, digging her nails in. He kept his mouth shut. "Ishikawa-san," said Masako, and then, after glancing at Mai, "Erisa-san. What do you mean?"

Eri swallowed, and squeezed Mai tighter. Then she sat up, slowly. Her hair was tangled and damp against her cheeks. "Shibuya-san was right. I—I didn't tell you the truth. Not—not all of it." She lifted a shaking hand, hooking her fingers into the collar of her pajama top. "He doesn't just—it doesn't just grab me. It—it touches me."

Ice dripped down her spine.

Eri said nothing for a long time. Eventually, Mai cleared her throat. "Eri," she said, and Eri flinched away from her, hiding her face behind her hair. "What do you mean?"

"I mean what I said," she snapped. She quivered, and Mai rubbed her arms. She was all-over goosebumps. "I meant he—it touches me. I—I wake up, and I-I'm frozen and he touches me wherever he wants and I c-can't make him stop—"

Eri gagged, and clapped a hand over her mouth. She leaned her forehead against Mai's shoulder again, shivering. Ishikawa-san seemed to have crept somewhere deep inside himself; he stared at Eri as if he'd never seen her before, and horror made his lips part. "Erisa, why didn't you say anything?"

"How could I say anything!" Eri flared, and her nails dug sharp as pins into Mai's arms. "I thought I was imagining it, back when it all started, I thought—I thought I was just making it up, a-and then it started getting worse, and worse, and I thought you'd think I'd gone crazy, so I didn't say anything, and it j-just kept happening and I-I couldn't make it stop and I—" Her voice cracked. "I was so ashamed. And I—I felt sick, at what happened to the twins, but t-they didn't get that, they weren't t-touched like that, and I couldn't help it, I was so relieved—"

She sobbed. It was broken, guttural; the noise a wounded animal might make. Mai put her arms around Eri and held on, rocked her back and forth the way she would a baby. Over Eri's shoulder she could see Masako crying, too, silently, tears falling like shards of glass down her cheeks. It could have been five minutes, or it could have been an hour, but after a while, Bou-san came in and herded Ishikawa-san out of the master bedroom. When Mai glanced over her shoulder, Naru and Lin-san were standing in the doorway. Naru had a look on his face that she didn't quite recognize. It was something colder than anger, harder than fury.

Rage, she thought.

"Leave the door open," Mai said. She was barely audible over Eri's screams.

Naru nodded, and let Masako lean on him as they walked away. Lin-san watched her for a second or two longer. Then he inclined his head, just once.

He was gone before Mai quite knew what to say.

The storm was still rattling the windows when Mai finally extracted herself from the sleeping Eri and wandered downstairs again. The two guests that had been staying in the out-building, Terazawa Yuuko-san and the photographer, Sakauchi-san, had made their way through the storm somehow; they were sitting in the kitchen, chatting amiably over breakfast as Ishikawa-san puttered about prepping coffee with a mechanical look on his face. In the living room, the SPR had taken over the low coffee table again. The clock read nearly eight AM—Eri had been crying for more than three hours.

"Mai," said Masako, and straightened. The only pillow still open was right next to her. Mai was too tired to care about the eventual fight. She dropped down next to Masako, and knocked her head against Masako's shoulder. To her surprise, Masako let her do it. "How did it go?"

"Could have been better," said Mai. About an hour in, Eri had started listing everything—all of it, from the first moment she'd moved back into the onsen, to what had happened this morning. Mai had nearly felt it herself—hands skimming up the insides of her thighs, a tongue on her breast, down lower. It made her want to puke. "She's asleep now."

She heard Lin-san murmuring to Ishikawa-san in the kitchen, but she didn't look round. On the other side of the table, Naru stirred sugar into his earl grey.

"It's clear that the haunting is far more…insidious than we were originally informed," he said in a low voice. "If it were feasible, I would recommend removing Erisa-san from the building. The ghost, however, has fixated on her. I hesitate to think what would happen if we attempted it, even with the tactics of imitation and mimicry available to us."

Mai thought of the presence in the bathhouse, the feeling of eyes tracing her bare skin, and squirmed in her seat. The feeling she'd had in the bedroom, like they'd been being watched, had left as soon as Ayako had finished putting up her ofuda, but the chill of it still lingered.

"She can stay with us," said Ayako. "Our rooms are warded. It can't get to her there, or if it does, we'll be better equipped than her husband to fend it off. If anything, we'll probably feel it before she does. Well," she amended, "Masako and Mai will, anyway."

Naru considered that. Then he nodded. "All right. I will suggest it to Ishikawa-san after we've interviewed the other guests again."

"Again?" Bou-san sighed. "There haven't been any incidents in the secondary guest-house. I don't know if they have anything to do with it."

Naru stirred his tea, and said nothing. Bou-san shut his mouth.

"I don't think he'll take it very well," said Yasuhara-san, and propped his chin in his hand. "He's very protective of her. You might offend him."

There was a pause. Then Naru pasted a smile onto his face, so sharp it could have cut diamond. "I will endeavor to be as polite as possible, Yasuhara-san."

Yasuhara-san blinked, and flushed a bit. "That—that wasn't really what I meant. I apologize—"

"Don't, Yasuhara-san," Mai snapped. "Naru, don't take your temper out on him. It's not fair to Yasuhara-san."

Naru gave her a look that could have frozen snow. "Excuse me?"

"We're all angry about what's happening, Naru. Stop taking it out on other people like a five-year-old." She stood up, sharply, and seized the other empty tea-cups—Masako and Bou-san. Naru went stiff as a board, and glared at her. "I'll come back when you can act like an adult."

Bou-san whistled silently. Naru drew himself up, and said, "Fine. You interview the secondary guests, then."

"Fine," said Mai.

Naru offered her his clipboard before looking pointedly down at his notebook again. Mai snatched it away, and began to stalk off. Then she paused, hesitated, and pulled John's rosary out of her pocket, offering it to him. John—who looked distinctly unruffled by every word of this, and was sipping his tea mildly—shook his head.

"Keep it for now."

She was too heartsick to argue. Mai nodded, draped it around her neck, and turned for the kitchen to hand over Ishikawa-san's teacups. Lin-san was still leaning against the oven, drinking coffee and listening quietly to Terazawa-san and Sakauchi-san's discussion of birds in the woods to the west of the property. As soon as she came in, Sakauchi-san turned in his seat, and shot her a grin. "Hey, it's Taniyama Mai-chan! It—it is Taniyama, right, I'm kind of really bad with names—"

"Yes," she said, and glanced at Lin-san, lifting her eyebrows. "Yes, it's Taniyama Mai. And you're Sakauchi-san, right? And Terazawa-san?"

"Aw, c'mon, I thought I told you to call me Ken." Sakauchi-san pushed out an empty chair, and gestured magnanimously with his coffee cup. "Siddown with us. Seems a bit…dour in there, today."

Ishikawa-san's lips pressed tight together, and he excused himself by muttering something about checking on the barn lighting. Lin-san took another sip of coffee and did not follow. Was he going to observe her, or something? Who knew why. Honestly, who knew why Lin-san did anything, other than keep a very close eye on Naru.

Well, she thought, irritably, he should have been doing that this morning when Oliver Freaking Davis sent Eri into a fit of hysterics.

"Actually," said Mai, settling her clipboard on the table, "I had some questions for the pair of you. About what's going on in the house. Remember that Naru—Shibuya-san spoke for a little while yesterday about the haunting?"

"Hm?" Sakauchi-san swirled his coffee in his mug. "Oh, right. The whole ghost thing." He waggled the fingers of his free hand, like he was controlling a puppet. "Did something happen with that? Because I went out early to take some pictures of the storm and when I come back, everyone's depressed. Something happen?"

How to quantify it. "There was an…incident," said Mai, and tugged the pen out of the mess of papers on Naru's clipboard. "It was unsettling. Unfortunately, I can't say any more than that."

"Really?" Sakauchi-san pouted a little. "Aw, come on, Mai-chan. You guys are paranormal investigators, right? Can't you give us just a bit of a hint?" His eyes brightened. "Did someone die here?"

"I don't know," Mai said stiffly. "We're still researching. And we're a parapsychological research firm, Sakauchi-san, not paranormal investigators." It was different. It was. Paranormal researchers were—were cryptozoologists and demon-hunters, not…not scientists. "It's not as if we're looking for vampires."

Just out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lin-san take another sip of coffee. He might have been smiling into the rim of his mug.

Sakauchi-san snorted a little. "Well, if you were, you'd be in Transylvania, not Hokkaido."

Mai scowled. "It wasn't a joke, Sakauchi-san. What we do is serious work. Which is why," she repeated, "I need you to answer my questions as truthfully as possible. Terazawa-san, if you don't mind…?"

"Of course not," Terazawa-san said. "And please, dear, call me Yuuko. I can't stand all of this formality." She leaned forward, conspiratorially. "I was a hippie, you know."

She couldn't help it. Mai smiled a little. "Yuuko-san. What made you decide on this onsen, when you were planning on a getaway?"

"Oh, the location," said Yuuko-san cheerfully. "I've been coming here since I was a girl, you know. Every other year my parents and I would come out here in the wintertime to soak and watch the snow fall. After I graduated high school I went to the United States, married a man there, had a child. After he died, I came back to Japan, and I've been a regular visitor up here ever since. Once a year, every year. Isn't that right?" she added, raising her voice, and Ishikawa-san, in the mudroom, turned and gave her a strained little smile.

"You know I haven't been here that long, Yuuko-oba-san."

"Oh, please. That wife of yours grew up here. I've known her since she was in diapers." Yuuko-san sniffed a little. "Sweet little thing, Erisa. She used to have dreams about having butterfly wings, so her mother bought her a pair for Christmas one year. Just costume things, you know, but she wore them until they wore right through. I have a picture of it somewhere, I daresay."

Mai pulled her notebook closer to her, and wrote long history with family, possible previous experiences down before turning to Sakauchi-san. "And you?"

"I heard about this place from my editor," said Sakauchi-san. "I work for a travel catalogue. We're doing a monthly special on onsens, and apparently my boss came here a few years ago and had a great time, so he sent me up to take some pictures and do a few interviews." His eyes glittered. "If word gets out this place is haunted, people will be kicking down the doors. Ghost-freaks love that sort of thing."

Mai clenched her hand tight around her pen, but she forced the smile back onto her face. "I see. Just for work, then?"

Sakauchi-san nodded. "Just about. I'm working on my article now." He leaned forward a little. "Would your boss be willing to give an interview, do you think? I have to get all the science right, y'know."

"I'll ask," said Mai. She was pretty sure Naru would voluntarily slit his own throat rather than give an interview to a travel magazine, but publicity was always good, and heavens knew the SPR needed some good publicity at the moment. She tapped her eraser against the page of her notebook. "Of course, if he does, he would be unable to talk about the current case."

"Eh?" Sakauchi-san sighed. "C'mon, Mai-chan. Not even a hint?"

"We have the strictest confidentiality agreements with our clients," said Mai. "Unless you become involved in the investigation, you will not be made aware of the circumstances surrounding it. And I would prefer it if you called me Taniyama, Sakauchi-san. We don't know each other that well." Sakauchi-san opened his mouth to object, but she turned away from him before he could do more than squeak. Terazawa-san, you said you've been coming here for a long time—have you ever had an experience here that could be called supernatural?"

"Oh, I don't know."

"Nothing odd, or mysterious? Nothing at all?"

Yuuko-san tapped her chin with her forefinger. "Maybe last year? I kept losing my keys. It was odd, but I thought it was just my absentmindedness at the time. Does that count?"

"Anything could be relevant," said Mai, and put a check-mark next to Yuuko-san's name. Ishikawa-san had mentioned missing keys, hadn't he? And all of this had been ratcheting up in strength for about a year, so it fit the timeline fairly well. "Sometimes paranormal activity can take very odd forms. I believe you've both noticed that the glass in this building is fairly cracked; has anything ever happened with that?'

Both Yuuko-san and Sakauchi-san shook their heads. Sakauchi-san, though, tapped his chin with his forefinger. "Y'know," he said, "some of my photographs did come out weird the other day. They're in my room. I can show them to you."

"Oh, stop intimidating the poor girl," said Yuuko-san, and smacked Sakauchi-san in the arm. "She said no. It's not particularly flattering to be that pushy, boy."

Sakauchi-san flushed a dull red, and excused himself from the table. This time, when she looked over at Lin-san, she definitely caught him smiling. Of course, Lin-san smiling was a vague upturn of the corners of the lips on normal people. It still made his eyes soften a little. Mai grinned back at him, dropped him a wink, and turned to Yuuko-san, who was eyeing Lin-san with a professional looking glint in her eye.

"You," she said. "You work with this young lady too, don't you?"

Lin-san looked up from his coffee mug, and blinked once. "Yes."

"Don't look so hunted, boy, I'm not going to bite." Mai choked—she had never imagined anyone would ever call Lin-san boy—and on the other side of the table, Yuuko-san propped her chin in one hand. "Will you sit down with us?"

Lin-san blinked once. "Thank you for the invitation, Terazawa-san. Unfortunately, I have a plethora of audiovisual material to go over. Last night was...eventful."

Mai snorted. "That's one way to put it."

"I leave you in Taniyama-san's more-than-capable hands," he added, and she blinked and flushed in spite of herself. "Taniyama-san, when you're done, come speak with myself and Naru, please. There's some information that we all ought to go over."

"Oh." Mai blinked twice. "Right. Okay. Um. Base?"

Lin-san nodded, finished his coffee, nodded at Yuuko-san—and at Mai, Mai realized—before vanishing into the dining room, and closing the door quietly behind him.

Yuuko-san gleamed at her.

"Well," she said. "You're certainly surrounded by handsome men, aren't you, my dear?"

Mai stared.

"What?" Yuuko-san giggled. Honest to god giggled, like a high school student. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed. I may be old, but I'm not blind, darling."

"Um." Mai spun the pen between her fingers. "Well. I mean. I guess. Maybe. It's—I don't—I don't really see it. Anymore. They're my coworkers. You know? I don't—"

"Oh, sweetheart, don't be so defensive. Now." She folded her hands on the table. "Tell me everything."

Mai gulped.

By about two o'clock, Sakauchi-san had turned over his photographs to Bou-san (who had cheerfully, and with a very deadly look in his eye, volunteered to accompany the photographer back to his rooms to get them). Yuuko-san had gone off for a long soak in the bathtub, along with Eri, who had smiled given her a small smile and let herself be led off for pampering. Mai, remembering the story of Eri and the butterfly wings, thought it was probably for the best. If Eri's parents were gone, and she couldn't talk to her brother, probably the only person who knew her well enough to reassure her (other than Ishikawa-san, but he was still out working in the barn) would be the woman she'd seen at once a year or so since she'd been born. Besides, it left the SPR free to have a full meeting in base without worrying about anyone eavesdropping.

Lin-san was back in his usual place, typing up readings and percentages on his laptop. Mai was the last one in. She refused to meet Naru's eyes, and instead dropped down between John and Ayako, leaning into Ayako's shoulder. Her heart was thudding in her throat, for some reason. Naru pushed his papers back into place.

"Bou-san," he said. "Did you discover anything interesting about Sakauchi's photographs?"

Bou-san leaned back on his hands. "Nothing obvious. Some orbs. Could be the lenses having problems. We're still going over them with a fine-tooth comb, but so far nothing's really jumped out."

"I see." Naru steepled his fingers. Some things never change. "Mai. If you could report on your interviews, please."

The please rattled her. Mai hesitated. "Sakauchi-san didn't have anything in particular to contribute other than the photographs, but Yuuko-san—Terazawa-san—said something about losing her keys. So we have more poltergeist activity. We spoke for a while, so I can probably talk to her about it again without her getting irritable or suspicious. She couldn't think of anything else off the top of her head, but I've asked her to think back and remember what she can. She should be letting me know by the end of the night, if she does come up with something important."

"Speaking of important," said Yasuhara-san, and he pushed his glasses up his nose. "I did as you asked, and continued looking into the history of the house." He glanced at Naru, who tilted his head forward in a nod, and cleared his throat. "There were a number of documents in the office downstairs which Ishikawa-san generously allowed me to take a look at. There have only been four owners of the house since the Meiji Period, if we discount the Ishikawas. The first was a man named Aoyama Shigeo; he was a well-known supporter of the Bakufu, and helped garrison a number of troops during the revolution until the imperial armies wiped out the last of the resistance. He was a turncoat, and turned over one of the last squads outside of imperial control. That's why he was granted this parcel of land, instead of being executed like the rest. He also served in a minor diplomatic function by liaising with the Ainu peoples in the area. Our previous information was wrong, as it turned out—Shigeo-shi died in 1917, near the end of World War One, as a result of the influenza epidemic." He checked his papers. "The second owner was his son, Hideo. He lasted until 1943, when he died in the Second World War. He and his wife had three daughters, and so the inn was inherited by their son-in-law, Aizawa Gou, and his wife, Shizuko. Shizuko died in childbirth, and Gou-shi had no descendants, so he willed the place to his sister's child, a boy, Matsuo."

Yasuhara-san drew a breath, and released it. "Matsuo was Ishikawa-san's father—he and his second wife died in a car crash when Ishikawa-san was very young, just outside of Sapporo, and so Ishikawa-san was sent to Tokyo to live with her half-brother's family. The half-brother, incidentally, was never mentioned in Gou-shi's will. It was only ever Matsuo-shi, and then, after he died, Aizawa Erisa-san, now Ishikawa-san. There are a number of cousins that I haven't yet been able to track down, mostly the illegitimate children of Hideo-shi—he was fairly promiscuous according to family records—but even if I do find them the likelihood of them knowing anything about what's happening here is little." Yasuhara-san paused. "I have a family tree in my papers somewhere, if you're interested."

"It would be appreciated," said John, who looked the most intimidated out of all of them.

"There are no real indications in any of the paperwork I've found that anything like this has happened before. The inn was shut up for several years after Gou-shi's death, so it's possible someone broke in and committed—whatever happened here—while it was empty, before Ishikawa-san and his wife came to fix it up. But I've been looking into local police reports, and there hasn't really been anything of significance in the past twenty years."

John nudged her, lightly. Mai licked her lips. "Um," she said. "Can you—can you look at missing persons reports? It—I had a dream. Last night."

Everyone came to abrupt attention.

"Why didn't you mention this before?" said Naru, in a voice that promised immediate retribution. She scowled.

"Maybe because Eri was having a panic attack and then we had a shouting match?"

For once, he had the grace to look somewhat abashed. Then he turned into a robot again, and huffed. "Still not an excuse."

"Ugh. Fine." She drew a breath, and let it out. "I don't know what year it was. The car looked fairly new, not—not an oldsmobile, or anything. I—there was a woman, in a miniskirt, high heels, not really winter weather—she'd been ditched by her boyfriend, or she wandered away from her party while she was drunk, or something, and someone in a car picked her up and brought her to the onsen." Unconsciously, she lifted a hand to her throat. "There was—a chain. Around her neck. And her ankle. And she was being kept in a dark room. She was screaming, but no one could hear."

She thought Lin-san might have been giving her a sidelong look, but when she turned to meet his eyes, he was staring at his computer screen.

Yasuhara-san cocked his head to the side. "Winter, you said?"

"Yes." She bit her lip. "I—I wouldn't be able to tell you the make or model of the car, but it was a four-door thing. Kind of small, like something a businessman would drive. Not expensive. Silver. In case—in case there's anything in the family paperwork that—that's anything like that."

Yasuhara-san searched her eyes. Then he nodded. "I'll double-check," he said.

Mai looked down into her lap. "She screamed until she lost her voice," she added, and on her right, Ayako seized her hand and squeezed it until her fingerbones ached.

"Hara-san," said Naru. "Have you seen anything?"

Masako shook her head. "I've…felt things. Smelled things. Mold, wet earth, hints of blood. People are…touched. The springs are…watched, constantly, if there's a woman present. But other than that, nothing." Her lips pursed. "Not even this morning, when Erisa-san was…was attacked."

Bou-san swore under his breath.

"So," said Naru, and Mai made herself meet his eyes. "What we know so far. The…entity, here, is most likely not affiliated with the family. The haunting began within the last year, and there is no indication from any known source that anyone in this building suffered from these…ectoplasmic attentions until Aizawa-san and her husband moved in." Mai blinked. Naru ignored her. "I want Hara-san, Matsuzaki-san, and Mai to be accompanied by at least one other person at all times—until we know if this being's sexual appetite is focused entirely upon Aizawa Erisa-san, or is a little more promiscuous, you all need to be careful. Even if you're sleeping in shielded rooms, we don't know how powerful it is. It's being very careful to stay out of our way."

A riptide, Gene said in her mind. Silent until it pulls your feet out from under you. Mai squeezed Ayako's hand back, and swallowed.

"I have convinced Ishikawa-san that it would be best if Aizawa Erisa-san stay with Mai, Hara-san, and Matsuzaki-san for as long as is necessary. If anything, she'll probably get more sleep than she would in her own bedroom, even if it is now shielded." Naru turned his pen between his fingers. "Lin. Have you contacted the brother?"

"Yes," said Lin-san. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye again, but he was still focused on his computer. "He was not particularly forthcoming. For obvious reasons, he was—unwilling—to let me speak with his daughters. It would be best if Ishikawa-san herself tried again. I believe he will not listen to anyone else."

"You can't make Eri do that," Mai blurted. When Naru turned to look at her, she straightened her shoulders. "She's traumatized, Naru. She's—she's been assaulted, and tortured, and who knows what else. She and her brother don't get along—she might have a meltdown if she has to talk to him, even if it is to check on her nieces." She swallowed. "Eri doesn't need it. So—so I can do it."

"Mai," said Ayako, but Mai shook her head, pulling her fingers away.

"I—I know I'm not all that good at interviewing people, or anything, and I know I'm not anyone that Aizawa-san would probably talk to, but I can at least try, can't I? Maybe," she added, making herself smile a little, "one of the twins will pick up, and I won't have to talk to him at all. But—but I can at least try. Can't I?"

Naru stared at her. Mai stared right back, clenching her hands into hard fists under the table so no one would see them shake. Finally, he tilted his head just so to one side, and said, "Lin, give her the number."

Mai beamed at him. Lin-san blinked. Bou-san, on the other hand, yelped. "Wait, really?"

"There's no harm in it," said Naru. "If anything, she'll annoy it out of him." He collected his papers, and stood. "All unnecessary personnel should return to their own investigations. Hara-san, I want to talk to you about the possibility of a séance. If you could come with me—"

"Wait, what makes someone unnecessary personnel?"

"Anyone who is not going to be on the telephone in the next three minutes, or anyone who has not been on the telephone with Aizawa-san within the past twenty-four hours."

Bou-san scoffed, but he scooted out the door anyway. He was followed quickly by Yasuhara-san, who was already waist deep in research again. The rest of them filed out slowly. Lin-san set his laptop on the table in the center of base, turning it just slightly so she could see. "That's the number," he said. Mai pulled out her cell phone, and squinted at the string of numbers marked by the name Aizawa Keiji.

"Right." She flipped her phone open. Then she bit her lip, and peeked at him. "Is there—is there anything I should know about this guy? Other than what I already do."

Lin-san folded his hands neatly on the table, and was quiet. She heard the clock tick once before he finally tilted his head, and said, "He can be especially pugnacious if you bring up Ishikawa Ayumi's name. I would not advise it."

"Right." Eri had said that her brother hated Ishikawa-san, hadn't she? Mai nodded. "Okay. Um." She dialed, held her breath, and then pressed the send key. Lin-san hadn't moved. He sat still as a rock, hands still flat on the table, watching her intently. It was making her skin twitch. The phone rang once, twice, and then clicked, and a hard male voice said, "Hey, Aizawa Keiji speaking."

Mai about swallowed her tongue. She punched herself once in the chest, ignoring the way Lin-san flinched at the hollow thunk. "Good afternoon, Aizawa-san. This is Taniyama Mai from the SPR; I believe a coworker of mine called you earlier today in relations to our inquiries up at the Ishikawa Onsen outside of Sapporo?"

If a pin had dropped, she would have heard it. For a second, she thought he'd just hung up. Then there was a rush of static, and he snapped, "I'm not letting you people speak to my daughters."

"Of course not, sir, I wouldn't dare ask such a thing." She held up her hand to Lin-san, whose eyes had widened. "The gentleman who called you earlier was new to our organization, you see-" sorry, she mouthed at him, sorry, sorry, sorry, "—and he clearly hasn't had nearly the amount of education in policy and protocol that he ought to have. I'll be having a word with him after I've made sure that everything is all right on your end, and that there's been no real harm done."

Aizawa groaned. "Well, it's nice to know someone knows what they're doing, even in—what was it, the parapsychological investigative sector. I'm guessing it was my crazy brother-in-law that called you out there."

"Actually," said Mai briskly, seizing Lin-san's pen (or someone's pen; it was just on the table) and waving her hand for a piece of paper. "It was your sister, Aizawa Erisa-san. She was especially concerned after the events she described to me, when your daughters visited the onsen, I believe. She feels very guilty about it, to be perfectly honest. I told her I would follow up with you, just to make sure that your daughters haven't…suffered anything in particular."

Aizawa sputtered. "Erisa? Erisa's never believed in ghosts in her life. She may be a lot of things, but she's believed in nothing other than stone cold science since the day she was born." Then he cottoned on. "Wait, what do you mean, suffering?"

"There has been a significant amount of evidence collected that indicates that the—presence, you could say, that exists here, focuses upon young women." Lin-san gave her a notebook. Mai flipped it open, and began to tap the pen on the paper. "I trust that whatever I say to you, Aizawa-san, you will keep it in confidence?"

There was another pause. "Yes," he said, and his voice was lower, now. "You have my word."

"A number of guests have experienced what appear to be sexual assaults in the past year." Maybe these hypothetical guests would forgive me for outing them, but I'm not about to tell Erisa's brother what happened to her. She knew not to do that much, at least. "Evidence indicates that they have been perpetrated by a being that is not of this earth. Whether it's a demon, or a ghost, or something entirely more mundane, we have yet to determine. It's only early days yet." She had a feeling that this case was going to be a huge can of worms, too. It just kept getting worse by the minute. "I know from what Erisa-san told me that your children, Natsu and Fuyu, I believe she said their names were, were also attacked during their time here."

Dead silence. "Do you mean to tell me that you think my daughters were assaulted?"

"In all actuality, sir, I don't believe they were. I have their reports here—obviously hearsay, as I heard it from your sister—" Lin-san leaned closer, and hit a few buttons on the keyboard to bring up the right data. "—which indicate that while they were attacked and tied, they were not otherwise harmed. I simply would like to confirm that this is, indeed, the case. I of course would not require any sort of payment from you for this information, nor would I require that I speak to your children personally. I would be perfectly willing to wait for you to call me back once you have confirmed with them that this is the truth. I simply wish to be able to set your sister's mind at ease."

Lin-san was still leaning over her shoulder. She thought he might be eavesdropping. For some reason, Mai felt her ears go hot. Why, she had no idea. It was stupid. Even if he smelled really good. This is Yuuko-san's fault, she thought. She'd been fine with all the pretty men in her workplace until Yuuko-san had had the bad judgment and the complete and utter lack of human decency to bring it all back up again and remind her. Mai swallowed hard, and wrapped her fingers tight in the hem of her sweater. "Aizawa-san, are you there?"

"Yes," he said. "Yes, I'm here. Can you—hold on, just for a moment." There was a click, and then a rush of silence, and Mai let out a breath that she hadn't realized she was holding. Lin-san leaned back, and raised both his eyebrows at her.

"What?" she said, and crossed one arm over her chest. "Who do you think calls all the people that Naru offends to soothe ruffled feathers? Because it's not Ayako."

He let out a huffing breath that could have been a laugh, if he had let it become one. "It's not a tactic I would have chosen."

"From what I know about Aizawa Keiji, he's a protocol-obsessed jerk who was willing to throw his own sister under the bus because she fell in love with her teacher. Rules and regulations get these guys going, all the time." She flexed her aching fingers. "Throw in the right amount of danger to your family and shared guilt and voila, case closed. I do wish he would let me talk to the girls, though," she added. "These sorts of guys like to lie if their family honor is at stake, so I have no idea if I'm actually going to get a straight answer."

There was another click. "Taniyama-san, you said your name was?"

She shot up so straight that her spine twinged. "Yes, that's correct."

"Thanks for waiting." There was a burst of quiet speech on the other end, something she couldn't make out. Then Keiji was back. "I—I know you said it wasn't necessary, but my daughter, Fuyu—she's saying she wants to talk to you. I'm going to be picking up the other line," he added, much angrier now. "I'll know everything you say to my daughter, and if anything smells wrong, I'm going to call the police. This could be constituted as harassment, two calls in one day."

How American, Mai thought. But she made herself smile. People could always hear it if you smiled. "Of course, Aizawa-san. I'm honored that you're letting me do this."

Aizawa didn't say anything more to her. There was a fumbling sound, a few more clicks, and then a new voice, young, bright, female. "Hello?"

"Hello. Is this Fuyu-chan?"

"No." The girl sounded disgusted. "It's Natsu. It's not Fuyu who wants to talk to you, it's Natsu. Dad mixes us up a lot." She paused. "We do trick him sometimes, though."

Mai choked on a laugh. "Is he going to get the other phone?"

"He said not to say anything to you until he did," said Natsu, cheerfully. "But he was yelling a lot at the last person who called, and so I started thinking about what happened, you know? Fuyu fainted for most of it, but I stayed awake."

"Fuyu," said Aizawa sharply, and Natsu sighed. She did not correct him.

"All right," said Mai. "Listen to me very closely. If at any point you want to stop talking, you don't have to continue. All right?"

"I know that," said Natsu grumpily. "I'm thirteen, I'm not stupid."

"Be polite, Fuyu."

"Why don't you tell me," said Mai, before Natsu could snarl, "about what happened the night you stayed over at your aunt's house?"

"It was really scary at the time," she continued, as though her father hadn't spoken. "Somebody grabbed my ankle and dragged me out of the bed. I hit my head on the bedpost, and when I could see straight again, my hands were all tied together. It was this really old rope, kinda moldy, but really thin and strong. I couldn't get it off. And—and there was this old rag tied around my head, shoved into my mouth so I couldn't really scream. It tasted like motor oil."

Mai wrote down psychic projections and waited.

"It's dumb, but I thought—I thought Fuyu was playing a joke at first. But then I saw that she was sitting next to me, all tied up like I was, and she'd fainted, because Fuyu's a sissy. But there was no one in the room, so even though I was super scared—I nearly peed myself, it was awful—I started looking around for a knife, or something. So I could cut the rope, you know?"

"That was very smart of you," said Mai. This was clearly what Natsu wanted to hear. She could practically hear the girl preening.

"That's what the police said. Until they couldn't find the rope, anyway. Then they said I was lying. But I still want to be a policewoman someday. Mom thinks I'm just going to end up shot. I don't know, though. I think I'd be a good policewoman. Have you ever met—"

"Fuyu," snapped Aizawa. "Stay on topic."

"Natsu, Dad," said Natsu. "Anyway. I couldn't find anything, but I'd managed to crawl off the bed and onto the floor. Kind of like a worm, maybe. I felt like I was gonna throw up, and I did, for like, days afterwards, but I've been going to therapy and so I'm not scared at all anymore." Still, her voice was starting to shake a little. "So—so I was on the floor, right? And Fuyu was still on the bed, and I saw this shadow pass under the door frame. There weren't any footsteps though, which I didn't notice at the time really, because I was so scared, but later when I thought about it, it was super weird, you know? Because everything in that old place creaks, you can't go anywhere without boards screaming at you."

"I've noticed," said Mai.

"So-so this shadow, it passes by the door, and—and I try to back away, because I can hear someone unlocking it. I—I don't know why I knew it wasn't Eri-nee-chan, or Ayumi-nii-san. I just—I knew it wasn't. Somehow. The shadow didn't—didn't move like theirs did. I guess. And so—" Natsu took a gulping breath. "So it opened and—and I looked right into the doorway and there was this—this person, there, all black, and he was staring, he had these—these big eyes, and his hands had really long fingers, but that was all I could see. And—and he smiled, and—"

She stuttered twice, and swallowed. She couldn't seem to find the words.

"I think we should stop," said Aizawa, but Natsu coughed.

"No," she said. "Dad, I'm fine. I'm—I'm thirteen. I'm okay." She took two deep breaths, and the line staticked. "He smiled, and—and his teeth were really long, and kind of gray, I could see them in the moonlight. And he said, 'Welcome home,' and then he was—it sounds really crazy, but I swear it happened, he was just—just—"

"Gone," said Mai, and Natsu let out a huge sigh.

"Yeah," she said. "He—he disappeared. And—and all the windows shattered at once. And the gag and the ropes were gone, so I started crying, and Ayumi-nii-san came down to see what was wrong. He swore a lot," she added, thoughtfully. "In English. I wrote them all down."

Mai closed her eyes for a moment. Next to her, Lin-san was warm and quiet, listening hard. He smelled of laundry detergent and something else, and he was just close enough that if she tried, she could hear him breathing, in and out, quietly. It steadied her. Mai took a gulp of air, and then opened her eyes again. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you, Natsu-chan."

Natsu laughed, shakily. "I wanna be a policewoman. I said that, right? And—and policewomen don't get scared."

"They do, I think," Mai told her. "They're just as brave as you are, and they move on in spite of it."

"Are we done?" Aizawa snapped.

"Natsu, I have—I have a question for you, if you don't mind." Mai squeezed the pen hard. "You said that—that the person who tied you up pulled you out of bed. Did they do anything else? Touch you in any way? The report I have says there were bruises, and that your sister, Fuyu, had a bloody nose when she was found."

"That's 'cause Fuyu fell off the bed when the windows broke," said Natsu, with all the callousness of a sibling. "No. No. The—the ropes and things hurt. But—no, it never—it never did anything. Not really. Not other than breaking the glass."

Mai let out a trembling breath. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you so much, Natsu-chan. I don't have any more questions."

"Good," said Aizawa, and then he hung up on her. She heard him shouting through Natsu's line, but Natsu clung on for a moment.

"Help Eri-nee-chan," she said, and her voice was low and much tougher than any thirteen-year-old's voice ought to have been. "She's—she's not happy. And if you can help her, please, please, I'll do anything, please—"

There was another click, and then she was disconnected. Mai set her cell phone down again, and realized that her hands were quivering.

Lin-san tilted his head in a question.

"I'm going to go throw up," she said, and then she ran to the bathroom and did just that.