A/N: I can't believe I churned out two relatively lengthy chapters that quickly. I've been staring at my computer for like two days straight, which is not normal for me. I suppose when inspiration strikes, you listen.

There is a lot of poor grammar in this chapter, but I assure you, it's intentional. Speaking a foreign language is difficult so I tried to reflect that. I study linguistics for a living, so the errors are common errors you would expect to hear. I am not being offensive; it's just the nature of early bilingualism.

Thank you so much for your reviews! I read all of them and I appreciate them greatly. Your feedback means a lot. I wish I had time to respond to each of them individually. Perhaps I will set some time aside for that in the future. You are good people.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

(Also never going to stop promoting my one-shots, yo, so if it pleases you, you should totally check them out.)

December 24th, 7:12 AM

(Primary Language: English)

The icy water shocked her pores, making Mai feel at least a little more grounded than she had when she woke up. Splashing water on her face was not going to make the pain go away, but it mimicked the feeling of cleanliness, which was a refreshing change from her prior snot-covered glory. She reached for the nearest wash cloth to dab her face dry and then observed her handiwork in the mirror. Her cheeks retained their redness from the night before, but it appeared less brash so she considered that a win. Her eyes, on the other hand… They were still dreadfully puffy and almost as red as her cheeks. She wondered if they would ever look normal again, because with the way she felt, she was beginning to think not. She sighed, conceding defeat.

The growling of her stomach thieved her attention away from her face; she was suddenly very conscious of the fact that she was ravenous. This was probably another good sign, because when she went to bed last night she felt like she was never going to eat again. She had no desire to leave the bathroom (what if she saw Naru?), but knew she would starve otherwise. With what courage she could muster, she trudged out of the bathroom to descend the stairs. Thankfully Naru's bedroom door was still shut. As she passed by, though, she had to resist the urge to break down his door and bash him in his stupid, perfect face.

After their argument the night before, she stomped upstairs immediately without bidding good night to anyone. She was humiliated and still blubbering, and it was bad enough that Naru of all people saw her in that state. The slamming of her door must have tipped her friends off that something had gone awry, because every couple of minutes someone different knocked on her door to try and talk to her. First it was Yasu, but she pointedly locked the door when he asked to come in. Ayako soon followed and did not try to come in, but instead tried to offer her motherly comfort through the door. As much as she appreciated it, she still did not want to open up that dialogue. Bou-san and John knocked together, probably hoping that two would have more success than one. John kindly attempted to get Mai to open the door, but again, she refused. Bou-san, who must have felt he was out of options, threatened to bust her door in and force his comfort on her. He probably intended to have a comedic effect, but Mai had none of it; the only protest she could manage was a guttural, inhuman screech to frighten him off. It must have worked, too, because the last she heard of him was 'Oh my god' followed by total silence.

She needed peace to wallow in her own gloom.

For the second time in the last few months, she confessed her feelings to Naru. And this time, she did not bother to beat around the bush. He was just that dense. But somehow, he still had it in his head that she loved Gene. He couldn't wrap his stupid mind around it. To make things worse, he never even read the letters she had slaved over for hours.

He claimed he cared about her. She had a hard time believing it considering the way he treated her. She wasn't even asking him to be hopelessly in love back; all she wanted was to feel respected. She could deal with unrequited love. Just not an unrequited love that destroyed their friendship.

He said he didn't want her to hate him. Even though he pushed her away, he didn't want her to hate him. That seemed like a lofty request. Honestly though, she didn't hate him. She probably never could. But she could be pissed, so that's damn well what she was.

Again, she was left heart broken. She'd make sure to rub that in Yasu's face later, just like she promised.

Mai wandered her way into the kitchen to be greeted with the aroma of tea (as per usual) and Luella who was measuring out ingredients into different bowls on the island. She looked up at the unexpected presence.

"Oh, good morning, Mai!" she greeted in a frenzy, trying not to lose track of her measuring. Thankfully she had not noticed Mai's swollen eyes.

"Good morning, Loo-ella," she returned. Without looking up, Luella gestured toward a plate of biscuits on the edge of the counter.

"I'm sorry, I would make you something to eat, but I'm making Christmas Eve dinner and there is just so darn many of you and all I have are leftover biscuits…" she puffed and paused for a moment, wiping her forehead with her forearm and leaning on the counter for support.

"It is okay! These are fine," Mai assured her. She would've eaten her own arm at the point if someone gave it to her on a plate. She grabbed a napkin and overloaded it with biscuits. Luella raised an eyebrow.

"You sure are hungry this morning," she observed. Mai nodded, averting her eyes.

"Yes," she agreed, stuffing a biscuit in her mouth.

"Thank you for helping with the dishes last night, Mai. I really appreciate it," she said, returning back to her preparation.

"You are welcome, it was not trouble at all," Mai looked up, smiling softly. Luella caught her eye momentarily before Mai could turn away. She frowned.

"Is everything alright, Mai?" Luella questioned, clearly concerned. She wiped her hands on a towel. "You look upset."

"Ah, yes," she lied.

"Are you sure? You went to bed awfully…" she contemplated, looking for the right word to use. "Hastily last evening."

"Ah… Yes," she repeated. She did not know how to explain to Naru's mother that he was a complete and utter asshole, especially in English. Luella gave her a skeptical stare. Mai shrunk in on herself, feeling like she would combust under Luella's gaze. The woman sighed.

"What did Noll do this time?" she conjectured into a question. How did she know?

"Ah… Um…" Mai stuttered.

"So this was Noll's fault," she gathered. Mai nodded feebly. Luella shook her head disdainfully.

"I'm sorry, dear," she apologized. She seemed to do that a lot on others' behalves, Mai noticed. She was almost too warmhearted. "Would you help me pour these together?" She asked, diverting the subject for a moment. Mai blinked, biscuit en route to her mouth. She timidly abandoned her breakfast to help.

"O-okay…" Luella handed her a bowl full of some sort of flour mixture and then moved to set up an electric mixer. She poured sugar and softened butter into it and flipped the switch on low.

"I'm going to crack the eggs into it as it mixes while you use this," she handed Mai a spoon, "to scoop in the dry ingredients a bit at a time. Can you do that?" Mai nodded. Luella cracked the first egg, and Mai tossed a heap of flour into the mixing bowl. Then continued in a rhythm for a minute or so, until Luella ran out of eggs to crack, leaving Mai with a bowl still three-quarters full. She looked at Luella, panicked. "Don't worry! It's supposed to be this way," she assured, leaning over on a hand firmly on the counter. She looked prepared to grill Mai. Her face flushed, feeling her palms start to sweat. "Just keep scooping until it's gone. That's it," she hummed as Mai moved to continue.

Mai tossed in another spoonful before Luella spoke again.

"So what did Noll do?" she asked again. Mai looked up at her without words, eyes wide. "It's okay, focus on what you're doing, not me," she ordered, gesturing with her hand to continue. Mai understood now; Luella gave her a menial task to concentrate on to help Mai focus her attention on her words. Mai exhaled, feeling the pressure evaporate from her body.

Luella was a saint.

"We fighted," Mai admitted, continuing to shovel the blend slowly into the forming batter.

"You fought?" Luella corrected artfully, masking it in a request for validation. Mai was grateful she did not have to look at her face because she could hear the disappointment in her voice.

"Yes, we fought," she nodded, spooning intently.

"You do not have to answer if it is too personal, Mai, but…" she paused cautiously. "May I ask what about?"

"I do not think I can talk it in English," Mai admitted. "It is…complicated." Luella nodded.

"That's okay, I understand. Can I take a stab at it?" Mai looked up at her, confused. "I'm sorry, I mean, do you mind if I guess what he did?"

"Oh, ah…no, that is okay," she said, returning to the task at hand. Luella took a moment to think.

"Did he say something mean?" she asked. Mai nodded. 'A lot of things, actually,' she added in her head. "Did he yell at you?" Mai nodded.

"I yelled also," she confessed. Luella nodded again.

"Why were you two yelling?" She had a knowing tone in her voice. Mai suspected she already had an idea.

"I am embarrassing," Mai replied. She cringed, realizing her mistake. Though, it still held true. "I-I mean, I am embarrassed,"

"It's okay," she promised. Mai shoved a spoonful into the mixture callously.

"He told me that I do not love him," she muttered.

"What?" Luella questioned rhetorically. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt, but I think I have a pretty good idea about what happened now. I have to ask, though…" she trailed off. "Do you love him?"

Mai nervously reached in for another scoopful, only to find there was nothing left. However, Mai found it did not matter because she was not uncomfortable anymore.

"Yes," she confirmed. Luella started to laugh. Mai covered her face. Luella placed a hand gently on one of her shoulders.

"I didn't mean to laugh, I promise. I am not laughing at you." Mai sighed in respite. "It's just that Noll can be a right idiot, sometimes." Mai laughed nervously.

"Y-yeah," she concurred.

"Mai, do you know much about Noll and Gene's relationship?" she inquired.

"Not much," she replied, "Just that they…" she furrowed her brow in concentration. "Gene helped Naru."

"Yes," Luella confirmed. "You mean with his abilities, right?" Mai nodded. "I'm going to tell you something else, then." Luella lowered her voice, stopping the mixer to scrape the dry powder off the side of the bowl with a spatula. "Gene and Naru helped each other with a lot of things. They were both very different people, but because of that, they brought out the best in one another," she imparted sentimentally, looking off into space, lost in memories. "I'm sure by now you know that Noll was the more introverted of the two." Mai tilted her head.

"In-tro-vertid?" she repeated.

"He is shy," she clarified. Mai nodded vehemently in agreement. "And sarcastic. But very passionate and caring."

"I know this," Mai sighed. She knew he was. He'd proven it on more than one occasion.

"Gene and Noll helped each other grow as people. They were fascinating to watch as they got older, really. They were both very confident, in their own way," she added. "But there were certain confidences they did not share. Gene had a habit of second-guessing his research, though in practice he always excelled. Noll always reassured him when Gene was his own worst skeptic."

"Oh…" Mai breathed. She didn't know that.

"Noll is a very charismatic professional, but he dreaded speaking to people. He had trouble expressing himself. Still does often times, I think," she assumed. "And Gene was born a very expressive person. So they helped each other. Do you understand?" She finished with a delicate smile.

Mai nodded.

Under his tough exterior, his formidable PK, and his immaculate professionalism, Naru was still only an 18-year-old. An 18-year-old who was so comfortable living in the periphery that he truly believed it would have been more favorable for him to have died instead of his brother.

Did he really think so lowly of himself? Naru?

She needed to reconsider what she had learned.

She felt terrible that the world made him feel like he was some cheap copy of his 'superior' older brother—and she had accidentally been a part of it. Until last night, she would never have guessed that he felt that way; he always seemed so confident in himself. Was this a problem he had always bore?

Probably not, Mai reasoned. It was likely easier for him to deal with everything he felt when Gene was around. They complimented each other, reinforcing each other's weak points. Perhaps they acted as each other's anchor. Gene would socialize more with people and help Naru manage his feelings, because he knew Naru (by nature and no fault of his own) had difficulty. She recalled his words from the woods all those months ago: 'I told you I don't like it when people care for me.'

After taking a moment to piece some of this together, Mai had an epiphany. Naru was not always purposely offensive; he very well may have a rife form of social anxiety.

Now that his twin was gone, Naru was left with his legacy and found himself suddenly alone to do the things on which Gene was helping him improve. He was coping in the best (and only) way he knew how. Which, honestly, was by not coping.

He really did think that lowly of himself.

Mai's stomach ached. She did not know what to say.

"I understand," she managed. Luella squeezed her shoulder gently.

"It's not an excuse for his behavior towards you—or your friends. You have every right to be angry. But I think this is important for you to know." She examined Mai's face, which revealed she felt rather overwhelmed. "Why don't you go clean up, okay?" Mai blinked.

"O-okay," she replied in a daze, turning around to go upstairs. "Loo-ella?" she called, pausing at the door.

"Hm?" she hummed.

"Thank you," she replied sincerely. Luella nodded in acknowledgement.

"Of course."

With that, Mai made her way back upstairs to the solace of her room. She paused in front of Naru's door for a few moments.

She shook her head to snap herself out of her stupor, forcing herself back into her own room.

She was just not ready to forgive him yet.

7:23 PM

(Primary Language: English)

Oliver wondered if he was ever going to be able to sleep again. This was the third night in a row where his mind refused to grant him mercy and let him get adequate rest. It was frankly ridiculous. He was already having trouble thinking clearly, he did not need any additional help.

When he figured out he was not going to be able to fall asleep, he did not even bother to stay in bed. While everyone else slept soundly, he went down to the kitchen, made himself a cup of Earl Grey, and sat in front of the smoldering fireplace in the parlor. If he was going to relive the destruction of his sanity, he decided he should at least be comfortable.

He had fucked up bad and he knew it, but a combination of panic, pride, and perplexity prevented him from stopping to apologize. Mai screaming at him had tipped him over the edge, unraveling every thread of emotion in his body. The feelings he successfully repressed—or so he thought—regarding his brother's death, his feelings for her, and the idea that Mai wanted nothing to do with him demolished his judgement. It consumed him all at once and he simply lost his temper. What confounded him most was that Mai insisted that she love him and not Gene. That doesn't make sense.

How was he supposed to react?

'Prove it' her voice echoed in his mind.

Only after reliving the disaster several times did he think of what he should have done. It was absolutely absurd, but seeing as nothing else made sense anyway, it could not be that far off the mark.

He should have told her. Or kissed her. Or something. Anything.

She challenged him to prove that he cared, and he more than cared. He had given her the perfect opportunity.

So why couldn't he say it?

Why couldn't he say it to himself now?

Because she probably hated him. It was almost unquestionable. If she hadn't before, he made sure of it this time. If he said it now, he would have to think about how it was one-sided and he missed his chance.

He wished Gene was there, partially so he could cuff him in the face and partly so he could tell him what in the hell he was supposed to do.

"Oliver!" Luella called from the bottom of the stairs. "Dinner will be ready in 15!"

Damn it. He ran his hands through his hair, dragging his fingernails angrily along his scalp. He had tried coming out of his room once already that day, but when he reached the parlor where he planned to consume himself in a book, she was there, talking away with Yasu and Bou-san. They met each other's gazes, something unspoken between them hanging in the abrupt silence. She broke eye contact first and looked away, but not before he watched her eyes fill with disenchantment.

And with that, he returned to his room with no intention of resurfacing. Unfortunately, he had failed to take into account the significance of the date: Christmas Eve. His mother always prepared a substantial meal to celebrate and he would be expected to attend.

With his heart in his throat, he made his way to the dining room. Only Lin (whom Luella insisted on joining them), Martin, John, and Bou-san sat around the festively decorated table, so he seized the opportunity to sit between John and Lin to eliminate any possibility of sitting next to Mai. He knew his friends were staring, but he was too dignified to give in to their scrutiny. He held his head high, not speaking a word.

Over the next quarter hour, his friends made their way in to the dining room and the table began to burst with food. The last to join was Mai, who found her seat at the complete opposite end of the table.

"Luella, you've outdone yourself again!" Ayako clapped her hands, delighted at the spread in front of her.

"Oh, it was nothing!" Luella dismissed with a wave of a hand, radiating pride nevertheless. She had prepared a honey glazed ham, white rice with a vegetable medley for Lin and Oliver, about three different kinds of casseroles that Oliver could not identify, and warm sourdough bread.

"Thank you for having us for the holiday," John said. "This is wonderful."

"Of course, Father," Luella insisted. "It has been our pleasure." She added, shooting Oliver a brief haughty glance. "Please, please, eat up," she encouraged the group.

"Don't mind if I do!" Bou-san obliged. She chuckled, surmising the meaning of his words from his tone.

"Happy Christmas!" She raised her glass in a toast. A chorus of 'happy Christmas's erupted around the table.

"HA-PEE CREESE-MAS!" Bou-san shouted, excitedly starting to tear into the ham.

7:39 PM

(Primary Language: English)

The table was buzzing with conversation, but Oliver paid no attention to any of it. He found himself more concerned with the…visually-pleasing, disheartened woman on the other end of the table. She half-heartedly engaged in conversation with her immediate neighbors (Ayako and Yasu), but otherwise remained silent, pushing food around her plate absentmindedly. Guilt impelled the appetite out of his stomach, leaving him feeling cheerless despite the merriness of the day.

He knew he was staring, but did not care because there is only so much offended she could feel, and he assumed she almost maxed her limit. He tapped his fingers on the table impatiently, deep in thought. After fighting with himself, he finally made a decision he had been deliberating for the past few hours. He pushed away from the table gracefully and stood.

"Thank you for dinner, mother. If you excuse me, I have some reading to finish."

What an all too familiar scene.

He pushed his chair in politely and hastily exited, cognizant of the fact that everyone but Mai's eyes were fixed on him.

7:43 PM

(Primary Language: English)

He threw open his bedroom door and swung it shut tightly behind him. He approached his desk, turned on the small table lamp, and grasped the handle off his top drawer. He did not open it right away. Part of him still resisted the urge, but he knew it had to be done. With a deep breath, he pulled the drawer open quietly and grabbed a neat stack of envelopes sitting on top of a pile of manila folders. He sat down on his bed and shifted so his back sat against the cold glass of the window. It was a welcome chill.

He stared at the white envelopes in his hands, rubbing his thumb gently across the words 'Oliver Davis' written in neat, black ink. He fanned them out neatly in one hand, noting the postmark date on each one so he could arrange them in order of oldest to newest. He was going to read all fourteen of them. He swore it to himself. He at least owed her that. He set the organized pile to the side, moving deftly to his desk momentarily to grab a letter opener from another drawer. He held the first envelope in his hand, which he realized now was shaking.

He blamed it on his fatigue.

He tore gently through the seal of the envelope with the blade and carefully removed two folded pieces of stationary with writing covering both sides. He held his breath, heart pounding in his ears, and unfolded them.

It was completely in Kanji.

He couldn't read it, even if he wanted to.

He stared at it dumbly. Now what?

He shook his head and slid the papers back into their envelope and placed it beside the pile of unopened letters. He grabbed another one, hoping he might be able to understand this one. He sliced it open, finding only one sheet inside. He held his breath again and unfolded it.

English.

It was in English.

Really, really poor English, but it was decipherable. Her neat handwriting helped.

He sighed in relief, feeling his heart rate return to normal.

After far too long a delay, he began to read:

Dear Naru,

How are you? I am sorry if you cannot read my first letter. I know you do not see Japanese very good, maybe a person can help you to reading the letter. I hope you can find a person to help you to reading the letter. My words were important.

Also sorry again that the English is very bad. I am not very good at English, but I trying very hard. I hope you understand. I hope it makes you smile. I stay at school sometimes to practice English with my teacher.

It is not very nice that you are not here… We miss you! It is strange to not go to the office each day. It is sad. I loved the job. Thank you again for the job.

I look for a new job right now, but I do not have a new job. I hope soon! I do not believing that a new job will be as fun, but maybe Naru will return. I am happy if you return.

I hope you like school too. Is it hard? Hope not. I hope you have fun. You tell me about the research sometime! I want to hear.

Please be writing me back soon! Hope you are not busy and hope you are happy on England and hope you are succeed!

Love,

Mai

He stared at the words for a few moments after reaching the end. He couldn't believe she tried to write in English just so he would be able to understand her. He ventured to guess that the letter probably took her at least an hour to write. Her near consistent use of the present tense and the limited vocabulary probably hindered the process.

But she wrote it anyway.

For him.

He set the open letter off to the side, feeling very strange.

Before he could think about it too much, he ripped open the next letter to read. It was similar to the first letter, but she mentioned the jobs she applied for and hoped it was okay if she put him down as a reference on her resume. She also discussed her latest excursion with Bou-san, Ayako, and Yasu, whom she appeared to remain in contact with regularly.

He repeated the process, tearing open the third letter.

And then the fourth. And the fifth. And the sixth. They were all similar in nature: chipper, poor grammar, but full of sincerity. She wanted to make sure he knew about her life, and at the end of each letter, she always asked him to write back. He wondered how upset she felt when she received nothing in return.

He sighed. Each letter made him feel worse.

He tore open the seventh letter. Immediately he could tell it was different. It was only half a page long, the English was much better, and it was not as warm. She must have had her teacher review it before sending it. That would also account for the short length.

How embarrassing.

Naru,

I did not want to write about it in the past letters… I thought that maybe letters you sent were delayed in the mail. But I have not received anything from you. I have written a lot of letters.

I hope I did not cause you anger… I am sorry if I said something else wrong. Maybe your letters are truly lost. Or maybe mine never made it to London.

I really want to hear from you to hear how you are doing. Please write soon.

Love,

Mai

Oliver suddenly felt very queasy.

He was not angry.

He was stupid.

He slit the tops of letters eight, nine, and ten. None of them revisited the topic of why he never wrote back, but the letters progressively grew shorter and shorter. The eleventh letter aroused a particularly agonizing nostalgia.

Dear Naru,

Today I missing the office a lot. I watch television yesterday. I watch the news and learned about a ghost problem on a school on Kyoto. It is funny that it is so much schools that we investigate. People see shadows and hear footstepping. People see doors shut and open and shut also. People believing all of it too.

Yasuhara and me looked in the computer for facts and are agreeing that the school owners tell lies for time on television and money. No stories people tell are similar and pictures seem like they are other things. People pay to investigate the ghost on the end of the weeks. They saying they see and hear things but I think they are telling lies or I think their evidence is made of fear. How stupid!

I am wishing you and Lin-san are here so you can telling them how stupid they are.

We miss you.

Love,

Mai

The English was absolutely abhorrent, but it was comprehensible enough to do its job: twist his chest in knots.

He crushed the letter in his fist and threw it across the room in self-loathing.

It was not as satisfying as he hoped. He still felt awful.

With what little impetus he had left, he opened and read through the last three letters. They were nothing out of the ordinary, but each of them felt like a knife to his gut.

It took him nearly four hours to read and reread each of the letters. He wanted to know them inside and out. He wanted to understand Mai's state of mind. And most of all, he wanted her to forgive him.

He looked around at the stationary littering his bed. He'd finally opened them all after four months, but he felt like he was still missing something important.

He glanced at the first and longest letter, written in Kanji. He picked it up, turning the envelope over in his hands. He narrowed his eyes. Why was it so much longer than the others? Why was it the only one written in Kanji? What did it say? It was highly unlikely that a two-page document (front and back) contained absolutely nothing of importance, he reasoned.

That letter knew something he did not, and that was unacceptable.

11:36 PM

(Primary Language: Japanese)

After a very large meal, an evening of laughs, and a few glasses of wine, Bou-san crawled into his cozy bed ready to welcome his slumber. He heard Yasu snoring already from the other side of the room. He pulled the covers up to his chin, enjoying the soft linen against his bare chest. He exhaled softly, ready to surrender to his consciousness… And he did it, until a loud knock at his door startled him so badly he yelped and tumbled out of bed in a tangle of sheets. Yasu did not wake up to the knock, but his friend becoming acquainted with the floor caused him to sit up on his forearms in impatience.

"What the hell, Bou-san? Shut up over there, will you?" he grumbled sleepily.

"Hey, shut up yourself!" he snapped, rubbing a sore spot on his head and sitting up. That was going to swell for sure. "Did you not hear that knock?"

"No," he muttered incredulously. "You probably dreamt it," he suggested, falling back on his pillow. Someone pounded the door again, louder this time. Yasu did not sit up. "Or maybe you didn't."

"Ha!" Bou-san swanked, carefully standing up and stumbling to the door. He yanked the door open angrily. "What?" he hissed. "Oh!" he blinked a few times to clear his foggy vision. "Naru?"

"Naru?" Yasu echoed, sitting up all the way in curiosity.

"Good evening," Naru deadpanned.

"Look, no offense Naru, but what are you doing here?" Bou-san folded his arms and leaned against the door frame. "We were trying to sleep."

"My apologies," he responded without the least bit of sincerity. "I need you to do me a favor." Bou-san raised an eyebrow.

"Right now? Can't it wait until morning?"

"I second that," called Yasu.

"No," he replied frankly. He held up a white envelope in his right hand. "I need you to read this to me."

"What? Why?" he questioned, pushing himself off the frame.

"Because I can't read it," he retorted candidly.

"What is it?" Bou-san quipped. Naru thrust the envelope into Bou-san's hands. "A letter? From whom?" he turned the envelope over to look at the address. He widened his eyes. "Oh." He coughed, stepping to the side as Naru strode passed. Bou-san shut the door. "Just so you know I am not putting on a shirt for you."

"What is it?" Yasu probed, swinging his legs over the side of his bed.

"A letter," Bou-san answered. "From Mai," he emphasized. Yasu leaned his elbows on his legs, supporting his head with his fists.

"What? Really?" he looked at Naru. "You're a little late, you know."

"I am aware," he assured sourly, taking a seat on the end of Bou-san's bed. Yasu flipped the switch of a small light on his night stand. "Will you read it?" he inquired. He shifted his weight uncomfortably before adding, "Please?" The two men were taken aback by his blatant courtesy.

"Well now you have to read it, Bou-san," Yasu jested.

"Alright, alright, I'll read it for the poor kid," he replied, slipping the two pieces of stationary from the already-torn envelope. Bou-san briefly looked them over. "Damn, she sure wrote you a lot."

Naru cleared his throat.

"Right, right, sorry," he apologized. He skimmed the words silently before reading aloud. He widened his eyes apprehensively. "Hey, um, are you sure you want me to read this?" Naru nodded. "Out loud?" he clarified. Naru answered with a stoic stare. "Naru, it's…a bit personal."

"Oh just read it already!" Yasu complained.

"Fine!" Bou-san huffed. "Quit your bitching. Okay," he brought a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat dramatically. He began:

"Dear Naru,

I hope it's still okay to call you that. Oliver feels funny to me, but if you would prefer, I'll start using it.

I know you don't read much Kanji, but I needed to send this to you and I needed it to be written clearly. My written English is honestly horrible. I promise from now on I will try and write in English to make it easier on you! But anyways, I really hope you can read this, somehow.

I'd like to start by telling you I am sorry that you left with the two of us on such rocky terms. I kick myself for it every day. You mean a lot to me as a friend and I would really like to fix that, if we can. I hope you feel the same.

There was a lot I wanted to say to you before you left for England, but I unfortunately did not get the chance… Not that I need to explain that to you. I'm not exactly sure where to start, so I guess I will start by thanking you for the job. I loved working for SPR. It helped me out significantly with my finances, but I also got to meet so many great people. You're included in that, you know! I don't think I will ever find a job that is as exciting as ghost hunting, but I guess I have to try… Unless you want to come back to Japan again! Just kidding. Sort of.

I learned a lot about myself working for you, Naru. Like how to make a good cup of tea, for instance. But seriously though. Not to get all sentimental, but I learned how strong I can be. I did and said things I never imagined! I know SPR changed me for the better. So thank you for that.

I also want you to know how sorry I am about your brother. That's just so terrible… I know how hard it is to lose someone so close to you. I miss my mom and dad a lot. I know I can't compare my loss to yours, but I just want you to know that I can relate on some level and that you aren't entirely alone. I know you don't like to talk about these kinds of things, but if you change your mind… You know where to find me.

About what I said to you before I left… You know, in the woods… This is really embarrassing for me. I didn't mean to make you angry or upset. I'm sorry if I did. But that didn't give you the right to disrespect the way I felt! That was really hard for me, you know. I understand if you don't feel the same way, but you did not need to tell how I do or don't feel about someone. You don't get to make that decision for me and then leave all angry about it. You never even gave me a chance to explain.

I did not know that the Naru in my dreams was not you. I had no idea it was Gene. He never corrected me. Can you blame me for mistaking the two of you when I was in the dark?

Yes, I liked it when Gene smiled at me. I admit, it was handsome. But when you smiled that way at me, as rare as it was, it was even more special. And you know, it wasn't even the smile that made me fall in love with you to begin with. Yes, Naru. You. Not Gene. You. I don't mean to sound crass, but Gene is dead, Naru. The only things I know about him are what I learned from my dreams. I know he is incredibly kind, caring, helpful, and handsome. He seemed like a great friend and a great brother. But that's all I know about him, Naru. I'm not so superficial that I fall in love with someone based just on their looks and a few smiles. Gene is not who I wanted, nor is he who I want now.

It was always you.

You and your stupid stubbornness.

I loved the way you cared for the SPR team. You always made sure we were okay, even if that meant your life was in danger. I loved the way you would try and comfort me. You might not think so, but it worked. You made me feel safe. I loved the way you would listen to me on cases when I had my crazy visions. You trusted me. You were the first one. I won't forget that! I even liked it when you would tease me. I didn't at first, because I didn't know you. But as I got to know you, things changed. It became endearing after a while. If you ask me, I think it was a way you showed your affection. And since you're all the way in England and I don't have to say this to your face, I've always thought you were attractive. Like, really, really attractive.

I admit the friendship we shared was a bit unorthodox, but I loved it anyway.

I love you.

Not Eugene.

You might think you know everything, but guess what, idiot scientist. You don't! For once, I get to be right about something! Ha! You'd be wise to remember that!

I really wish I got to say this to you in person, but I don't know the next time I am going to see you… I really want to see you again. I miss you.

I know this is a lot. You don't need to answer me, if you won't want to. I just could not keep this to myself anymore. It was killing me! At least I can rest easy knowing you will have seen this. Probably.

Anyway.

I won't talk about this again if you don't want me to, either. I just want to be able to move forward from here. You're one of my closest friends and I don't want to lose you.

You better believe I am going to write you more letters. I hope to get answers to those, though! I'm going to apologize ahead of time for the quality of my English. I swear I'm not stupid.

I hope you are well.

Love,

Mai

P.S. I know what you're thinking—not everything has to make sense, Naru."

A heavy silence settled over the room. Yasu's mouth hung open; he'd been gaping since around the second paragraph. Bou-san look like he could burst into flames at any moment. He cleared his throat.

"The end," he added awkwardly. They both looked at Naru. He was still, his eyes closed and arms crossed tightly against his chest. Bou-san began to wonder if he was still breathing. Suddenly, he opened his eyes, stood up straight, and snatched the letter from Bou-san's hands in one smooth motion. Bou-san's hands still hung in the air, clutching the ghost of the letter. He did not dare move.

"Thank you," Naru bowed his head at Bou-san and then departed, closing the door behind him.

"Uh… You're welcome?"

11:59 PM

(Primary Language: Japanese)

Somewhere between the monk's threshold and Mai's bedroom door, Oliver made the legendary decision to stop thinking. His head was spinning, and for being so spent, he felt exceptionally energized. The world around him had descended into madness, so instead of struggling to keep himself aloft, he was just going to descend with it. Why the hell not.

There was nothing rational about what he was about to do, anyway. Whatever that was.

He didn't have a plan.

He stopped in front of her door, and before he could overanalyze his behavior, knocked softly with one of his knuckles. He stood in silence for what seemed like an eternity, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest at any moment. He inhaled slowly, his breath conspicuously uneven. His stomach doubled over on itself, and just when he thought he was going to be sick, the door opened.

"Naru…?" Mai's sleepy voice whispered. "What...?" He flashed the letter he carried. Her tired eyes narrowed. "Is that…my...?"

"You think I'm attractive," he accused. Her face went scarlet.

"I-I don't understand," she stammered, eyes searching his face for an explanation. She found none.

"Your English is atrocious," he declared with the smallest hint of a smirk. She gawked at him vacantly.

She backed up as he took a few steps closer, looking down at her with his piercing eyes.

"Naru, you aren't making any sense…!" she replied in a loud whisper. Warm fingers trailed up her arm, barely tracing her pale skin. She shuddered, suddenly very aware of the narrowing gap between the two of them. His fingers stopped at her shoulder.

"Not everything has to make sense, Mai," he retorted coyly, closing the door softly behind them.