A/N: Sorry for the delay! It was longer than usual. This week just went NUTS for me. I did not anticipate being so busy. But, regardless, here is chapter seven. Please enjoy! I don't know when the next update will be exactly, but I suspect within the next 5 days or so.

Also, totally shamelessly plugging again: If you like Business Better Left Unfinished, you should check out my two other Ghost Hunt one-shots!

That is all. Carry on.

December 23rd, 8:00 AM

(Primary Language: English)

"Honestly, Oliver, what is your problem?" Luella snapped. She stood in front of her son, who was leaning on the door frame of the kitchen with his arms crossed and eyes closed, tapping her foot impatiently. "Well?" She rubbed her hands on her apron, brushing off a bit of crusted pancake batter. Oliver huffed, raising a hand to rub his temple gently. He again had not slept well the night before, and after getting only five hours of sleep total in the last two days, he was now beginning to feel the consequences: his head was killing him and his patience was running extraordinarily thin.

He felt like he made a complete fool of himself last night, and his exhaustion only augmented his feelings of shame. He had tried to calculate his every move and every word in order to prevent Mai from becoming any more irate with him. At first, it seemed like it was going quite well; he would have gone as far as to say she might have been enjoying her time with him. His confidence surged as the night wore on, leaving him actually believing he could fix the mess he made. That is, until he had an unfortunate lapse in judgement…

He didn't know why he did it. What was he thinking?

Perhaps that was the problem.

He wasn't thinking.

But of course now it was all he could think about.

His hand had easily slid over hers. He remembered it feeling very cold under his palm. He kept his hand gently on top of hers for a few moments, testing to see if she would move it. She didn't, which he took as a good sign.

He should've stopped it there, but he didn't. He had not thought this far ahead. She discreetly turned her hand over, her cold palm now a stark contrast against his warmth, and pressed her delicate fingers gently through the spaces between his.

Despite his comeliness and popularity amongst young women, engaging in physical acts of affection with them felt asinine; he knew nothing of them and them nothing of him, and he found no appeal in superficial relationships.

Whenever he was with Gene, it was easy to distinguish between those with shallow intentions and those without. He had a theory—though he had tested it enough times with consistent results that he could probably call it a law by now—that as long as they were together and behaving like themselves, the women would transfer their attention completely to Gene. At first, the women usually devoted their attention to each twin equally. Unsurprisingly, as time passed, almost all of the women would gradually shift their attention away from Oliver. He postulated that he was not talkative or attentive enough for their tastes. However, he did not care because he saw no reason to change for people who only had an interest in his body. What was the point of pining after girls—girls who did not feel it necessary to get to know him— to regain their attention when it was unsolicited in the first place?

The idea of romance did not disgust him and he was not opposed to it, he just figured after 18 years of solid evidence that it was simply not for him. So, logically, he devoted none of his time in coaching himself through the stages of a relationship. Thus, when Mai came along and gauchely destroyed one of his very expensive cameras, the results were blind-siding.

And then he blind-sided himself by holding her hand. How senseless.

He refused to lose his composure, but something foreign swelled inside him and it was sucking the air right out of his lungs.

Was he panicking?

Too uncomfortable to keep holding her hand, too nervous to let it go, too humiliated to look anywhere but at the theatre's stage…

He was panicking.

He was at a loss. This is exactly why he always ignored his feelings. What was the point of acknowledging them if he was just going to suffer? What a waste. He didn't have time for this. He needed to breathe, and that would not happen as long as he was touching her. So, he seized his hand away and tucked it safely in the crook of his elbow, savagely crossing his arms in the process.

"Oliver," Luella repeated, snapping him out of his thoughts. He did not open his eyes. "I'm waiting."

"I don't want to go," he replied frankly. Luella huffed.

"Why not? Site seeing is always fun!" she emphasized in an effort to persuade him.

"I live here, mum. I've already been to all those places," he shrugged. "That doesn't sound like fun to me." Luella narrowed her eyes at him before turning to tend to her pancakes on the griddle. She did not turn to look at him.

"You're going," she countered. "And you will have a good time with your friends." Oliver felt a rage burgeon in the pit of his stomach.

"No, I'm not," he retorted. Luella slammed her spatula on the counter and turned to glare at him.

"Excuse me? No?" She repeated, voice rising dynamically. She paused for a moment, trying to come up with an argument. "We have guests."

"You have guests," he corrected, voice flat.

"They are just as much your guests as they are mine. And what's more, they are your friends!" She sighed loudly. "Eugene would've gone with us in a heartbeat." She muttered, putting a hand on her hip.

Oliver opened his eyes for the first time; they were completely cold. His silence was lost on her.

"Fine," he barked. She had clearly struck a nerve. "I'll go. Are you happy now?" He didn't bother to conceal the irritation in his voice. He pushed himself off the door frame hastily and shoved the swinging door outward so furiously it hit the wall. Luella shouted a mouthful of objections at him as he left, but he ignored her (something about a tantrum and crass behavior). He rolled his eyes, completely rapt in his own thoughts until he unexpectedly collided with a sleepy obstruction in front of him. It was Mai, who was still dressed in her pajamas and on her way into the kitchen.

"Oh!" she yelped. Her cheeks reddened a bit. "G-good morning, Naru!" she chimed happily without making eye contact. He said nothing for a moment, face still hardened. He let out a sigh and nodded at her in acknowledgement, letting his face soften. He brushed by her gently, and once he was a solid few feet away, he offered:

"You have a hole in your pajamas."

What?

He smacked his forehead with the heel of his palm and did not wait around for an answer.

Today was going to be a long day.

9:05 AM

(Primary Language: Japanese)

Yasu slammed a massive stack of papers down on the coffee table in front of Mai, keeping his hand flat on the top and leaning over towards her as far as he could. He was winded, Mai noticed, and his eyes were a bit bloodshot.

"Yasu, is everything okay?" Mai inquired, concerned. She uncrossed her legs and brushed the wrinkles out of her white sleep shirt. He took a deep breath and stood up straight.

"Everything… Is… Great!" he shouted, causing Mai to jump. She stared at him, shocked and confused.

"Then why are you so out of breath? And why are your eyes red?" she crossed her arms. "Did you even sleep last night?"

"Of course I slept!" he promised, feigning insult. "What do you take me for?" He made his way around the coffee table to take a seat next to Mai on the couch.

"Okay, so you slept," she conceded. "How long?"

"Six and a half hours!" he exclaimed proudly. "That's two more than yesterday!" She shook her head and rolled her eyes with a sardonic smile on her face. She had no idea how he could be so chipper with such little sleep. She almost envied him; she slept for a full eight hours and still woke up feeling like a tatty old hag.

"So then what's up?" Mai asked. Yasu pulled the stack of paper towards them, which she then noticed were nominally bound together. She peered at the cover, which was littered in English words she could not understand. The only words she recognized were 'Oliver Davis.' His thesis, she deduced. Yasu flipped the packet open to the last page: page 237. Stupid nerd, Mai thought.

"Look! Right there," he pointed at a jumble of words towards the bottom of the page, which he had circled several times in red ink. Mai started at it blankly.

"What am I looking at?" He thumped the side of her head playfully.

"Dummy, it's Naru's bibliography! Look."

Mai leaned in closer, scanning through all the words to find ones she recognized. Again, just two words.

"Yasuhara, Osamu?" she read aloud. "Your name?"

She clearly was not understanding the point. He grabbed her shoulders and turned her to look into his eyes. He looked amusingly desperate.

"My name. My name. In Naru's bibliography," he expounded. She blinked again. "Naru used me as a source in his thesis!" he finally explained.

"Oh!" Mai's eyes lit up in understanding. "Yasu, that's…great!" she cheered. It excited him, so it excited her, too.

"I know!" he yelled. "This is the best day ever. I am so glad I stayed up to read through this. So worth it," he said, still holding onto her shoulders. "Even if I didn't understand all of it. But how awesome is this?!" His eyes were full of delight.

"I'm happy for you! That's exciting, being mentioned in the thesis of a renowned doctor of parapsychology." The words felt strange rolling off her tongue. It was odd to talk about Naru like that, like some extraneous, anonymous celebrity.

"I know, right? It was exciting enough when he called me to ask for my documents, but I never thought he would mention me as a source! Me, a lowly peasant," he crooned.

"Oh, stop that," Mai wagged her finger at him. "You're being melodramatic."

"I have every right to be—!" She began tuning out his theatrical griping. She took a moment to reflect on his words. 'When he called me…' Her heart sunk; she'd somehow almost forgotten how Naru had ignored her, and in the wake of recent events, it ached even worse than before.

The events of last night seemed so surreal. Before the opera, he flirted with her! In his awkward, Naru way, but nevertheless, flirted! She honestly found it endearing. But also confusing. He went from completely ignoring her to holding her hand. It was petrifying, but magnificent. If she didn't know better, she would have thought he was displaying interest in her for some convoluted goddamned reason. But when she tried to hold his hand back, he pulled away like she had insulted him.

What the hell?

Her despondence must have shown on her face.

"Mai, is everything okay?" Yasu queried interrupting his monologue.

"What? Oh, yeah," she assured feebly with a small smile. "Everything is…great." He crossed his arms.

"What happened with Naru?" he demanded. Her face turned scarlet.

"Who said it has anything to do with Naru?"

"So you admit there is something?" he smiled mischievously. She sighed exasperatedly. Why was he so good at that?

"Look, it's nothing, okay? It's just…awkward," she shrugged.

"He has been pretty stilted around you, since we got here…" he agreed, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Has something happened?"

"No!" she squealed. He rolled his eyes.

"Uh huh," he said cynically. "Honestly, you should just talk to him. Get him to yourself while we're out today," he suggested. "What's the worst that could happen?" Mai snorted.

"He could do it all over again," she replied. "Everything, I mean. I don't want that to happen again…" she shuddered at the thought of reliving that heartache.

"What's worse? Trying and failing, or doing nothing and wondering forever?"

"You sound like a fortune cookie, Yasu," Mai teased. But she knew that he was probably right. She sighed. "We'll see, okay? I can't talk to him if he won't talk to me."

"You know Naru. He's not great at talking to people. Try and be patient with him, as hard as that is," he recommended. "Maybe you can work it out once it feels a bit more… normal again."

"Okay…" she agreed warily. "But if he ends up hating me I am blaming you, okay?" Yasu laughed.

"I expected nothing less."

11:22 AM

(Primary Language: Japanese)

"C'mon, Ayako, hurry up!" Bou-san moaned. He was leaning awkwardly to the side, like he was leaning against an invisible wall. "This hurts!" Ayako made no move to snap the picture, snickering at his suffering. "AYAKO," he thundered.

"Fine, fine, one second!" she adjusted the camera and took the picture. "All done, idiot." He sighed and straightened up, cracking his back and dramatically moaning. Mai stood behind Ayako, giggling into her hand. Bou-san had made it a point to take the most touristy picture he could at every site they visited. Currently, they were some distance away from the Big Ben clock tower, against which he pretended to lean. He received a lot of disdainful stares. It didn't seem to bother him one bit. Ayako approached him and shoved the camera into his hands. "You're an embarrassment, Takigawa," she claimed.

"But I am your embarrassment," he pointed out. She spat some choice words at him in English so he could not understand. He shrugged and strolled over to John and Yasu, who were chatting with Martin (though John did most of the talking). Luella, Mai, and Ayako followed suit to begin their trek to their next destination: Trafalgar Square. Naru walked on the periphery of the group by himself, not looking particularly thrilled. Bou-san slowed his stride a bit to walk next to Mai. He bumped her with his hip.

"Hey!" she exclaimed. "What was that for?" He smiled devilishly, then signaled with his eyes for her to look behind. She looked over her shoulder to find Naru. Of course. She narrowed her eyes at the old monk. "Really?"

"Really," he confirmed. "C'mon, everyone is here and we all know Naru refuses to make a scene in public." Mai huffed.

"Will it get everyone off my back?"

He shrugged.

"Perhaps," he replied, bumping her with his hip again, this time hard enough that she stumbled a bit to the side. She felt her face go hot, even in the brisk winter wind.

"You're the worst, Bou-san," Mai professed, mostly joking. She glanced behind her again, meeting Naru's eyes. He had been looking at her. She didn't think it was possible to turn any redder.

She was wrong.

She reduced her pace a bit to match his. For someone with much longer legs than her, he sure knew how to take his time.

"Hi," she greeted, rubbing the back of her neck bashfully. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Hello," he equated.

They walked in awkward silence for a few moments.

"London is really beautiful," Mai observed, hoping to strike up a conversation.

"Yeah, I suppose," he agreed.

"I hope we can see the palace," she imparted. "Um… Booking-ham?" His lips twisted into a small smirk, amused.

"Buckingham, yes," he confirmed. They walked again in silence, but this time it was not awkward.

"What's your favorite place in London, Naru?" she queried. He deliberated for a moment.

"Probably Westminster Abbey," he answered. "It was Gene's favorite, too," he added, his voice just barely tinged with grief. His expression did not change. "But I just like the architecture." He shrugged, diverting the subject. He shoved his hands in his coat pockets. Mai watched him for a moment as they continued to walk.

"Can we go see it today?"

"Probably. It is not that far from the square," he shrugged again. "I've already seen it enough times." Mai offered a weak laugh.

"Yeah, I guess you would, living here and all," she mused, shoving her cold hands under her arms to warm them. Too bad he couldn't choose right now to be confusing and hold her hand. His was so…cozy.

"Try explaining that to my mother," he quipped, voice low. To Mai's delight, he was visibly relaxing. His rigid shoulders relaxed and he was not so insistent on looking anywhere but at her.

"You didn't want to come today?" she asked. Perhaps that was the wrong question, she noted; he tensed up again, like he was hiding something.

"Like I said. I've seen it enough times. It's nothing new to me," he deadpanned. She decided to drop the subject. They walked in silence for the remainder of the trek. She prayed that Naru did not notice Bou-san or Yasu glancing back at them smugly. If he did, he did not let on.

The group finally arrived at Trafalgar Square, squeezing their way through the throng of people to reach the space between two enormous fountains in the center. The square was breathtaking, Mai thought. She did not know what she was expecting, but it was nothing quite like that. In the center stood a tall, elaborately decorated Christmas tree she imagined would be even more beautiful at night. The square was surrounded by ornate Romanesque buildings; she couldn't imagine where they start.

"Okay, so we are really close to some of the more popular sites in London," Luella remarked, scrutinizing a tourist map. "We could start with the immediate buildings," she suggested, gesturing outwards with her free hand without looking up from the map. "And then make outward. It can be a bit of a slog on foot, but I think that it's a better experience to walk!" Bou-san groaned.

Ultimately, everyone agreed (however begrudgingly) to walk and they made their way through several fascinating sites. Naru kept silent, but Luella had heaps to say at each place they stopped. Mai appreciated it, especially because Luella made sure that she and Yasu were able to understand the bulk of what she said.

Around 1:30, the group stopped at a quaint teashop for a light lunch. Mai was seated between Luella and Naru, the former of whom coached her through the food ordering process so she felt confident enough to do it herself. And she did, albeit with slight difficulty. Nevertheless, Mai was proud of herself.

"Thank you, Loo-ella," Mai said after the waiter had taken his leave.

"Of course, Mai! It's my pleasure," she replied, smiling kindly.

"Ah, Loo-ella…" Mai began, "We can…" she furrowed her brow in concentration, trying to pronounce her words accurately. "We can going to, ah… West-minster Abbey?" She punctuated her question with a sigh of relief.

"Oh, well…" Luella glanced around at the rest of the group. "I think we were going to go to Buckingham Palace next. They are in opposite directions."

"Oh," Mai blushed, feeling a bit self-conscious. "O-okay."

Luella looked lost in thought for a moment, and then side-glanced at Naru with a wily smile.

"Unless Noll would be willing to take you," she mused. Naru snapped his head up and looked at his mother, face unreadable. "I'm sure you he would be happy to, wouldn't you, Noll?" Mai noticed something unfamiliar flicker in his normally inscrutable eyes, but before she could identify it, it was gone.

1:42 PM

(Primary Language: English)

Oliver stared at his mother intensely, a stint of insecurity jolting through his body. He pushed it away immediately, annoyed at himself for his impotence. He knew what she was doing, and he was irritated that he could see no way out.

"The rest of us will go to Buckingham while you two visit the church,"she explained. "And then you can go home,"she added, referencing his unwillingness from that morning. "We will meet you there. I'm sure Mr. Takigawa will take lots of pictures for you, Mai,"Luella giggled a bit. Bou-san looked up at the mention of his name.

"What'd I miss?"

"You will take pictures of the palace for Mai, right? "Luella asked, detecting his obliviousness. "She would like to go to Westminster Abbey with Oliver." She emphasized. Oliver thanked whatever divinity that Mai was unfamiliar with the complexities of English linguistics, or she without a doubt would have detected the conniving plan his mother was instigating; she was not even trying to be subtle.

Bou-san raised an eyebrow, mirroring Luella's devious grin.

"Is that so?" he directed at Mai, and then shifted his gaze to Luella. "I will take much pictures,"he confirmed. Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

"So, Noll?" Luella quizzed. Mai appeared overwhelmed by the torrent of English.

He contemplated protesting. She was sticking her nose in business in which she had no right to meddle. He had decided that morning if he never put himself in another position where he and Mai were alone, he could successfully endure the remainder of their visit without needing to address all the outstanding feelings, both old and new. It would be better that way.

Probably.

He was about to object when he recalled his mother's words from that morning. 'Gene would've gone with us in a heartbeat…' A familiar pain constricted his chest. She may have ardently denied it yesterday, but Oliver heard her memorandum loud and clear: she wished he was Gene. And he remembered, so did Mai.

Perhaps it was just time to acknowledge that no matter what he said or did, everyone would always compare him to his brother. He on more than one occasion heard people refer to Gene as his better half. He took a deep breath to repress his growing sense of inadequacy. What a useless feeling.

"Fine," he yielded. His mother looked relieved.

"Good! Then it's settled!"

2:24 PM

(Primary Language: Japanese)

"Are you sure you want to go to Westminster instead of the palace?" Naru tested. "You mentioned wanting to see the palace earlier."

He looked exceptionally uncomfortable, Mai thought.

"You said earlier it was your favorite place in London, so I want to see it," she pledged. "I-I mean, if you want…"

He sighed.

"Okay," he responded simply and began walking. Mai blinked. 'That was easier than I imagined,' she thought. She jogged a bit to catch up to his side. They walked in peace for a few minutes.

"Thank you for taking me," she looked at him. He peered at her out of the corner of his eye and nodded. "Naru… What exactly is Westminster Abbey?" She asked sheepishly, anticipating a barrage of 'are you stupid?'s. He looked down at her as they walked.

"It's a church," he replied. "It is one of the most notable religious buildings in the United Kingdom and has been the traditional place of coronation and burial of British monarchs."

"Oh, that's really interesting!" Mai responded, though she was more fascinated by his fascination. He was actually talking in full paragraphs. He continued explaining the history behind the religious site and she made no move to interrupt him, except to ask questions. He talked for the remainder of their walk.

He was right; the church was magnificent.

"Wow, that's incredible! I've never seen anything like this, at least not in person," she confessed in wonder, drinking in the elegant design. With the multitudes of people marching by, she stepped close to Naru. "I'm glad you took me here."

He looked down at her, turning his body towards her very slightly.

"You're having fun?" He questioned.

"Of course I'm having fun. This is really nice. Aren't you having fun?"

"I don't hate it," he shrugged. That was close enough for Mai. They wandered through the interior of the church in silent reverence. The ceilings were intricately carved and exquisite draperies and flags hung everywhere. It may have been the most visually-alluring building Mai had ever seen.

The masses of people were gone, but she stayed close to Naru anyway. Their arms brushed against one another more than once, and she noticed he recoiled slightly each time.

As much as she was enjoying herself, she could not keep her concerns buried forever. He outright rejected her before he left (projecting her love onto his brother), completely ignored her for months, held her hand and retreated when she returned the gesture, and now he walked around like nothing happened with a pole shoved so far up his ass she could almost see it in his eyes.

She just could not make sense of it, and she needed answers.

They exited the church after a full walk-through. Mai decided she would take advantage of their private travel home to extract some information from him. She expected they would be walking at least part of the way. They ambled out of the massive baroque entryway, and with her heart pounding and palms sweating, she decided to come out-and-out with it.

"Naru, can we ta—"

"Oi! Gene!" an unfamiliar voice called somewhere out in the distance in front of them. The two of them stopped suddenly. Naru narrowed his eyes and surveyed the area contemptuously. The stranger couldn't actually be addressing them, could they? It had to be a coincidence.

"Gene!" the voice yelled again, closer this time. Mai looked around and spotted a young man somewhere in his early 20's approaching them, waving. The man was a few inches taller than Naru with much broader shoulders and short sandy hair. Mai did not recognize him. Mai's heart plummeted in her chest. She felt physically uncomfortable. She looked at Naru's face, which had since returned to its characteristic vacuous expression. The man stopped a few feet away, grinning crookedly.

"Gene, it's me—" he started before Naru cut him off.

"Dylan Sharp," he interposed. "I remember you."

"Yeah, that's right!" he answered, clearly thrilled he remembered him. He loosened the red scarf that hung from his neck and rubbed the creases out of his gray woolen sweater. "I just got back from my studies in Germany. We used to study a lot with—" Naru held up a hand to silence him. Mai had no trouble following the conversation, but she certainly wished she did.

"I'm not Gene," he disclosed, bitterness lacing his words. Dylan looked very embarrassed.

"Oh," Dylan paused, clearly disappointed. "Sorry, Oliver, right? You used to study with us, too. I'm sorry, you two look—"

"The same?" he jeered. Dylan looked taken aback.

"Yeah…" he shifted on his feet uncomfortably, hooking his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans. "You were with a girl," he gestured with his head at Mai, "So I just assumed…" He trailed off, realizing he was digging himself a hole. He cleared his throat. "So how is Gene?" Mai noted that he had not once inquired about Naru's well-being, which she found odd seeing as he was the one present and if they studied together, they were likely acquaintances of some sort.

"Dead," he uttered, face still showing no sign of emotion. He folded his arms. Dylan wheezed quietly, not quite processing the news.

"What do you mean 'dead?'" he sputtered.

"I mean, dead," he spat with such venom that Mai flinched. She looked at Dylan, who looked like he'd rather vaporize than continue that conversation. The following quiescence was deafening.

"I-I'm sorry, I've been gone, I didn't know," he stammered.

"Evidently," Naru sneered. He waited a few moments to see if Dylan had anything else to say, but he stayed silent, staring at the ground.

"It was good to see you too, Dylan," he replied, dismissing himself from the conversation. He pushed Dylan out of the way effortlessly as he departed, leaving him utterly stupefied. Mai stared after Naru in shock, not knowing if she should be angry or upset.

"Naru!" she called after him. Realizing he was not stopping, she sprinted to catch up with him. She walked hastily by his side to keep up. She observed his face. It was still blank, but he radiated a fusion fury and consternation. "Naru, are you okay?" She realized it was a stupid question.

"I'm fine," he hissed. "He was just…stupid, and stupid people aggravate me." Mai grabbed onto his coat sleeve to stop him, but he ripped his arm away. "Take a hint, Mai." He scoffed and continued walking.

7:56 PM

(Primary language: English)

That evening Luella and Martin ordered take-away pizza for dinner because cooking for eight on short notice was a miracle of which even she was not capable. She was embarrassed by the lack of panache, but everyone assured her it was more than adequate. She did not look entirely convinced, but she let it go anyway. After everyone finished eating and Mai and John volunteered to help with the small amount of dishes, Luella brought into the parlor a tray of tea and fresh biscuits she picked up on the way home.

The atmosphere was particularly jovial that evening. A warm fire burned in the gray stone hearth, a beautiful Christmas tree projected a comfortable light through the room, and everyone found a spot to sit around the coffee table in front of the fireplace, chattering happily. Luella and Ayako shared a love seat. Bou-san sat on the floor against Ayako's legs, one leg extended and one bent with an arm resting on it comfortably limp. To the left of the couch sat Martin in a cozy arm chair. Across from them on a matching sofa sat John, Yasu, Mai, about 3 feet of space, and Oliver. His legs were crossed and arms were folded, trying to be as far away from people as he physically could without being reprimanded by his mother.

He seemed a bit touchy, so she compromised and let him isolate himself on the couch in order to avoid conflict.

The other three on his couch scrolled through the pictures on Bou-san's camera, laughing at the assortment of poses he managed to capture throughout the day.

"Bou-san, how did your body even bend that way?" Mai questioned, unsure if she actually wanted to know the answer. She passed the camera off to Yasu to continue scrolling, needing a moment to catch her breath from too much mirth. Though trying to be discrete, Oliver caught her glancing pithily at him. He pretended not to notice.

He already felt unreasonably unsettled by the events of that afternoon, and he did not need anyone else to bring attention to it. It wasn't worth vexing himself over, he concluded. He and Gene looked identical, so it is not unreasonable for someone who did not know Gene was dead to mistake them for one another.

'But people did not have that problem while he was alive,' he thought. Their personalities were too strong for others not to be able to tell them apart for long. The only explanation he could think of was that it was Dylan's wishful thinking. And Oliver was sure he was not alone in that regard.

He also reasoned that he and Dylan were not friends—hell, saying they studied together was already pushing it; Oliver studied while Dylan blathered away. That would account for Dylan's disinterest in his well-being.

That would have been a convincing argument if the people who used to speak to him while Gene was around had not disappeared as soon as the funeral ended. He tried to keep up with the interactions like Gene, but it was difficult to talk to them when he had not been the one initially maintaining the relations. They never seemed overly interested in him, anyways. It was just a fact that Gene had a more attractive personality.

Why was he even analyzing that incident? It was stupid. And he definitely did not feel slighted or jealous.

Definitely not.

He did not want her pity.

Especially when she herself preferred Gene.

8:00 PM

(Primary Language: English)

During a lull in the conversation, Mai let her eyes wander, looking for nothing in particular. They fell upon an opulently framed photograph on the mantel of the fireplace. She stood up carefully so as not to interrupt any resuming conversations, for some reason very curious about the photograph's subjects. She examined it closely. It was a Davis family photo; Martin and Luella sat in front of their two sons, all of whom were dressed regally in royal blue against a gray background. Seeing both brothers jarred her for a moment, evoking a strange sense of longing.

At first glance, the two were indistinguishable. They both wore the same blue dress shirt and black pants and shared nearly identical subtle smiles. But upon closer scrutiny, it was very easy for Mai to determine which twin was which. Gene stood on the right side of the picture behind his mother. His hair was neater kept than Naru's, and it framed his face in a way that slightly accentuated the fact that his jawline was a touch sharper than his brother's. She'd always thought it would be the other way around. His eyes were the same shade of striking blue, but…they just weren't like Naru's. Naru's were just different, somehow.

Naru stood on the left behind his father. She identified the slight dishevelment of his hair, noting the softer curvature of his jaw (though it was still quite angular). How odd it was to see him not wearing all black and, of all things, smiling. It wasn't the kind, tender smile she was used to from Gene, but it was just as alluring. It was not uninviting or caustic as many would guess, but rather it seemed to her to challenge the world to try and undermine his confidence. It was handsome, and a true shame he did not show it more. But that's just the way he was.

And she loved it.

"Loo-ella, is this Gene?" Mai questioned, though she already knew the answer. Naru looked up at mention of his brother's name.

"Hm? Oh!" Luella piped. "Yes, it is. Would you bring that picture to me?" She requested. Mai obliged, but Naru's stare made her feel like she had touched some sacred relic she had no business handling. She shrugged it off and handed the frame to Luella and stood behind the couch to observe it with her. Ayako leaned over to get a closer look.

"Wow, it's like looking at two Gene's!" she remarked. Mai balked internally, really hoping Naru would not take that the wrong way considering earlier events. She remembered saying almost those exact words when his parents had briefly showed her a photo of the two together before leaving Japan.

She regretted that now.

Luella chuckled lightly, smiling sadly.

"Let me see!" Bou-san demanded, reaching his head up behind him, waiting for Ayako to put it in his hand. When nothing entered his hands, he added, "Pri-tee pleese," in his rugged English. She snickered and shoved it into his hand. He looked it over. "It's a nice picture," he said, indicating for Ayako to translate.

"Thank you…" Luella replied gratuitously. She sighed forlornly. Ayako placed a comforting hand on her back. In an effort to conjure good memories, Mai probed:

"What person was Gene?" She hoped she said it right. If she didn't, Luella still seemed to understand.

"Thank you for asking, Mai," she folded her hands in her lap. "He was a great son. So talented, too…" she trailed off wistfully. "He was a very charming young man. He got along with everyone…" tears began to swell in her eyes. She dabbed at them with her sleeve. "I'm so sorry, it's just—" Ayako shook her head to stop her.

"Don't be sorry. I am sure this has been very hard for your family," she soothed. Luella nodded, dabbing her eyes again.

"It just still feels like yesterday… It always feels like something is missing," she explained. Everyone nodded in understanding. "I sometimes still feel like I'm waiting for him to come home, to call, or something…" she sniffled. "I miss him." She concluded, crying very softly. Mai's heart broke for her. She knew what it was like to lose someone so close. She fingered the old house key she kept for good luck in her pocket out of habit. Luella stopped talking for a while, trying to compose herself again. Mai glanced up at Naru's spot on the couch, but he was gone. She heard the door leading to their back patio bang shut.

8:17 PM

(Primary language: Japanese)

Leaving the room felt like second nature to Oliver. He was on his feet before he even processed what he was doing. Hearing his mother talk about how much she missed Gene poured salt into wounds he didn't even know he had.

This wasn't the first time he'd left a conversation like this. He wasn't proud of it, but he just felt like he shouldn't stay in the room anymore. He missed Gene, too.

But talking about it made him incredibly uncomfortable.

And given that he already felt like he was losing control over his sanity, he just needed to get out. For his, and everyone else's sake.

His feet led him out onto the back patio into a few inches of snow. He did not have on proper attire, it was snowing again, and it was very cold, but he did not care. He was more comfortable outside. Now that he was out there, he did not know what he should be doing. He wandered toward the stone fountain in the patio's center, his pale skin reflecting in the light of the strands of Christmas lights from above. He stared at the marble angel his mother insisted on adding to the fountain in memorial of Gene. He thought it was a silly gesture. They did not need a piece of stone to remember Gene.

They already had one in the cemetery, and that was enough of a reminder.

He sighed deeply, watching his breath freeze in front of him. He shivered.

The sound of the patio door opening and closing caught his attention. He turned his body enough to identify the intruder. It was Mai, holding a cup of steaming tea. Her eyes shone in the lights above her head. He stared blankly before turning back around again. He heard her feet crunch in the snow behind him, stopping a few feet away.

"Naru…" she started. "I brought you tea. Just the way you like it, boss…" she joked, hoping to lighten the mood. It didn't work, but that was to be expected.

"No, thank you," he replied flatly. She sighed softly. She crouched a bit to brush a section of snow off the fountain's edge on which she could set the tea, just in case he changed his mind. She shoved her now freezing hand under her armpit for warmth.

"Do you want to talk?"

"Not particularly," he answered blandly. She sighed again.

"Are you sure?"

"How many times do I have to tell you before you understand? No," he repeated, voice dripping with irritation. She frowned and folded both her arms, still keeping her hand buried for warmth.

"Yeah, well, I want to talk to you, Naru," she countered.

"I'm honored," he retorted mockingly.

"Why do you always have to do that?" she demanded. She waited for an answer, tapping her foot impatiently. "I asked you a question."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he lied.

"Oh stop, Naru. You know exactly what I mean. You are so disrespectful to me! What have I ever done to you?"

He closed his eyes, attempting to extinguish the flame he felt flickering in his chest.

"Naru!"

He merely shrugged. She groused in indignation.

"Damn it, Naru, answer me!" she yelled. "This isn't fair!"

He lost it.

He snapped his eyes open and whirled around to face her, eyes full of wrath. It scared her, but she did not look away.

"You want to talk about fair, Mai?!" he shouted. "Then you picked the wrong person," he seethed.

She raised her voice to match his.

"You are insufferable, Naru! You know that?! I don't deserve the way you treat me!" she declared. "It's. Un. Fair." She put her hands on her hips, hoping she got under his skin.

"You know what isn't fair, Mai?"

"Enlighten me!"

"My brother is dead!" he roared. She widened her eyes, momentarily speechless. She had never seen him so angry. "Gene is gone! I watched him die, Mai," he explained. "And I felt it. That's unfair."

"Then why are you mad at me, Naru? I'm not the one responsible! I didn't kill Gene!" She regretted the words as soon as they came out.

"Are you fucking stupid, Mai?" he shouted, throwing his arms out, as if challenging her to answer. She recoiled at his profanity. "I know that!"

"Then what the hell, Naru?!" she yelled, mirroring him.

"I'm not mad at you," he admitted. "I don't know who I'm angry at." His arms fell to his sides and his voice dropped back to normal, feeling defeated. "I think I'm angry at myself."

Mai tilted her head curiously and took a few steps forward.

"Why are you angry with yourself?"

"Because I don't know how to handle this," he admitted.

"Handle what, exactly?"

"Everything!" he bellowed. "It's stupid to feel upset. I have nothing to be upset about. I am pathetic," he finished.

"Naru, no you're not," she asserted. "If anyone ever had the right to be upset, it was you."

He shook his head.

"You don't understand," he alleged.

"Then make me understand, Naru," she insisted, trying to keep her voice steady. He ran a hand through his hair frustratedly.

"It's a waste of time," he replied. She opened her mouth to protest, but he raised a hand to stop her. "No one can bring Gene back. I can't un-see what I did." He paused. "And I'm sorry, but I'm not Gene." He added bitterly.

"First of all, you're allowed to grieve for your own brother, especially after what you've been through. And you call me the stupid one," she shook her head, almost laughing. "And second of all, what do you mean 'sorry you're not Gene?'" She raised an eyebrow.

"I don't feel the need to explain it," he looked off to the side.

"Oh well you better feel like explaining it Oliver Davis," she spat. He looked up, but not at her. She had never called him by his real name before. He felt strange.

"Mai…" he tried. How was he supposed to explain this without looking like a fool? After deliberating momentarily, the best he could come up with was, "Everyone wishes it was me instead of Gene." Now that he said it out loud, his pent up feelings of inferiority flooded his body. His breath hitched in his throat.

"Naru!" Mai shouted accusatorily. "How could you say that?! That is not true!"

"Yes, it is. Everyone always preferred Gene, Mai. You even said so yourself back in Japan. It makes sense for everyone to choose the one of us with the better personality."

"Don't twist my words around on me!"

"I'm not twisting them. You said them," he stressed.

"That isn't what I meant!"

"What else could it possibly mean, Mai?" he folded his arms again, narrowing his eyes.

"Naru, are you dense?!" she threw her hands above her head. "I don't wish you were Gene! And I'm sure most everyone else would agree with me! Is that what this is all about?" She stomped up to him and put her finger in his face. "Is that why you're being rude to me? Why you've been ignoring me?" she pursed her lips. "But you responded to everyone else, so that doesn't make sense…" She groaned and shoved him backwards. He had not been expecting it and almost slipped on his back, barely catching himself at the last minute. He was shocked by her aggression. "I don't understand you."

"Whatever," he dismissed. He regained his poise and and brushed some snow off his sleeves.

"Whatever?!" she shrieked, face flaming. "You ignored me! And then you try to act like nothing happened! And then you tried to hold my hand?!" She swore she saw him blush. "But then you pulled away from me, like I did something wrong! Can I even win with you, Naru?"

"What I did yesterday was stupid," he agreed. "I don't know why I did that. It just shouldn't have happened."

"Yeah, well, it did. Why the hell were you flirting with me?" she poked him in his chest. He blinked.

"I wasn't flirting," he said credulously, white as a ghost. Mai laughed ironically.

"So you're telling me you did that because we're friends?" He couldn't think of an appropriate answer.

"You love Gene," he blurted. She shoved him again.

"How dare you?! Are you still on about that?!" she took a deep breath, rubbing her temples. "Did you even pay attention to my letters?" He said nothing. Her face fell. "Did you even… read my letters…?" Silence. "Oh. My. God. You didn't read them! You… You jerk!" she bellowed. She moved to shove him again, but he caught her by the wrists gently. He could see the tears brimming in her brown eyes. A pang of guilt pierced his chest.

"I—" he started.

"No," she fumed. "Just, stop talking," she demanded, ripping her arms away from him. Despite her best effort, the tears raced down her cheeks. "I can't believe you. I have done nothing but love you and this is what I get?" her voice trembled.

"…Me?" he sputtered stupidly.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you but you won't listen to me. I love you, not Gene. It was never Gene! Gene is dead," she muttered. "He was very nice to me, and yes he smiled more at me in those few months way more than you probably ever have in your entire life. He seemed like a great person, a great brother. But he isn't you."

"But—"

"It's your stubborn personality and sarcasm I love," she continued, ignoring him. She wiped the tears from her eyes. "No, you know what? This is a waste of time," she echoed his words. "You already rejected me. I don't know why I am bothering."

"No, wait—"

"If you wanted to hear what I have to say so badly," she lectured crossly, "you should have read my damn letters."

"Mai, listen to me," he insisted, his voice unwavering despite the war waging inside him. She quieted, wiping more tears away. He looked her directly in the eyes. "I…" his stomach churned. "I…" the words would just not come out. "I care about you," he managed.

That's not what he wanted to say. She laughed bitterly.

"Prove it," she challenged. His mind went blank. What was he supposed to do? "Yeah, I didn't think so," she shook her head.

The only words he could string together were, "None of this makes sense."

"Not everything has to make sense, Naru," Mai suggested. She wiped her eyes one last time and turned on her heels to leave.

'Stop her,' was his first reaction. Instead, he muttered, "I don't want you to hate me." He winced at his own words; he hated himself for saying something that made him so vulnerable. She stopped at the door without turning around.

"I didn't," she murmured, "But I don't know if I can forgive you again."

She slammed the door behind her, leaving him aching and dumbstruck in the falling snow.