A/N: Hello! Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed in my absence, I have brought you another chapter! I want to first say that I caught COVID roughly two months ago and it has left me with a persistent brain fog that I'm afraid may affect my writing, so I apologize in advance for that, but I dearly wanted to get back to this story. Some time away has given me fresh eyes and I do have many cool ideas rattling around my brain, so enjoy!
Mai woke to the early light of a grey day. The usual brilliant oranges and blues were muted by cloud coverage and rain - but just a bit of the sun managed to peak through the overcast and spread some warmth over the unfamiliar room she found herself in. Someone had taken her boots off but her socks remained - she could see the shoes resting at the foot of the bed, waiting for her to reclaim them when she was ready. There was a stifling silence that swamped the room when she opened her eyes and she felt as if breaking it would result in blasphemy. But she needed to. She sat up in the bed, pulling the blankets with her, and scanned the basic room absently. There was nothing in it but the bed, two oak nightstands, and a long dresser against the far wall. Sure, Luella had filled it with a rug and some casual wall art, but it felt clinical and unlived in compared to the rest of the house.
Her feet dangled over the plush rug while she scanned her surroundings. It seemed Monk had tossed her suit jacket over one of the bed posts but other than that, she was still dressed in formal attire. The turtle neck clung to her sweat-soaked neck and her hair was probably a mess, urging her to pull it out of its bun so it could fall freely about her shoulders. She felt rotten, but there was one thing she was certain she needed to do.
Mai slid from the bed, pulling the blankets with her, wearing them like a cloak, and shuffled out into the quiet hall. She was uncertain of the time but she knew the day was still young given the light from outside, still, she was surprised by the silence of the house given the circumstances. She scanned the length of the hall, first left then right, before she turned on her heel and strode down the length towards the half-open door that looked into Toby's room.
Oliver lay stretched out across the mattress, bare of everything but pillows, his face turned away from the door. One knee was bent while a hand had been tossed over his stomach; it seemed Lin had left him there to rest after their adventure.
He was due for some actual rest. No doubt the experience he suffered earlier that day had sapped him of energy, even Mai herself had fainted and she was used to such chaotic information overloads. But what they had been through was more than that and she would be a fool if she tried to convince herself otherwise. The fact that Oliver had been knocked on his ass was a blessing in disguise given the situation. Rather than spend the creeping hours of the day, slipping by like molasses, waiting to hear back about Toby and no doubt growing more agitated by the minute, he could recover.
Mai stepped into the room on silent feet, padding across the plush rug that depicted bright iridescent bubbles floating over a velvet black background, and paused at the side of the bed. He always looked so sweet when he was sleeping, the dispassion fell away from his face and the arch of his brows gentled, it made him look younger. He was still young, she supposed, they both were. He still had a lot of growing to do in some areas, even though he would deny such words until his dying breath.
She pulled the comforter from her shoulders and settled it over top of him, carefully, before she leaned forward to place a kiss on his forehead. His skin was cold against her lips. The window in the room had yet to be covered and it allowed the chill to seep into the room, the heating of the manor battling valiantly against it, but it wasn't so cold that she felt the need to worry. With the blanket, he would warm up in no time.
Mai paused at the doorframe to look back over her shoulder, assuring herself that all was well before she stepped out and quietly pulled the door shut after her. She waited for the click before turning to head down the hall only to come up short upon running into the towering figure of Lin. He stood in the dark hall with a frown but lifted a hand to steady her by the shoulder before she could stumble back. Mai slapped a hand to her heart, the organ pounding in her chest, while she worked to soothe her nerves after such a fright. The man was scary when he wanted to be, she just had never expected him to try and sneak up on her in such a manner. Most likely, he simply hadn't wanted to run the risk of waking Oliver.
"We need to talk," Lin murmured grimly.
"I was just coming to find you," she assured him quietly and patted the wrist of the hand on her shoulder before she gestured for them to retreat down the hall.
Lin sat her down at the bar in the family room and swung around the other side of the counter while she got herself settled and glanced about the room. It was empty of those unfamiliar faces that had seemed to swarm the Davis family in the face of another tragedy. Mai hoped she'd get the opportunity to know them one day - if circumstances permitted it - knowing that the Davis's only kept the most interesting of company.
Mai turned forward to watch Lin settle a kettle on a glass-topped burner behind the bar. He had rolled the sleeves of his white dress shirt up his forearms while he worked, lips pursed in thought. She couldn't fault him for retreating behind that cold facade he had used back in the day. They were all well beyond their limit and there seemed no end in sight to the darkness before them.
"Where is everyone?" she asked gently after clearing her throat. She had spoken as quietly as she could manage without whispering and still, she might as well have shouted from the rooftops. The quiet was so intense.
Lin heaved a sigh and braced his arms against the bar top, leaning over it while he lowered his head, exhausted. "Madoka is with Luella and Lixin upstairs, Martin left to go for a drive, Monk returned to the hotel to update the team, and everyone else went home," he explained ruefully, "Unfortunately, there's not much that can be done in such a situation. I'm waiting to receive news."
Mai threaded her fingers together over the bartop and waited patiently as the man gathered himself before continuing.
"I sent one of my Shiki out to find Toby," Lin explained grimly. The admission seemed to inspire the need for action within him and, with little else to do, he returned to preparing the pot of tea.
"How long do you think it'll take for him to find him?" Mai questioned. It felt rude to ask such a question but she needed to know.
"It's difficult to say," Lin muttered, "Fang is hardly loyal but he does enjoy a fight. I imagine it might take him anywhere between a day to three to locate Toby...if we're lucky."
Mai heaved a sigh and lowered her gaze to her hands in resignation. It would be so easy to let Oliver use his own abilities to locate his son but, like Lin, Mai doubted the man would survive the aftermath. To see and feel his son's terror would likely push him over the edge and there would be no stopping him - and that was if Toby was still alive. He'd already suffered the trauma of living through his own twin's death, and then further tormented himself with the memory just to feel close to his brother, to be exposed to Toby's possible death would ruin him completely.
"He'll want to continue the case," Lin spoke up in the silence that had fallen between the two. He sounded defeated.
Mai lifted her fingers from the bartop, brows raised although she couldn't bring herself to meet Lin's gaze, and said: "It might be for the best."
"I know," Lin droned gruffly and set a steaming cup of tea before Mai.
Giving Oliver a case to chew on was always the best way to distract him. Because Toby was now directly involved with the case they could kill two birds with one stone. It was likely the only way they would be able to come out on top of the situation.
"We need to investigate the basement of the museum," Mai advised over the rim of her cup, "Everything seems to lead down there and it's the only floor we haven't yet had access to."
Lin took a steadying sip of his tea and allowed his one visible eye to fall shut in thought. It was true. When the curator had first given them a walk-through of the museum he had strictly avoided the archives, stating there was no way Lydia - or anyone for that matter - would have been able to make it down there. At the time, the doors were locked and required a physical key to enter and the previous curator had kept it in the pocket of his vest at all times. He had assured them the rooms were thoroughly searched the day of the disappearance but now, with all that they had learned, Lin was beginning to doubt that.
"We'll head out when Naru wakes up," Lin said with some finality.
Voices drifted through the cavernous room, echoing off the distant walls and the industrial can lighting that hung from the ceiling several yards above the heads of the occupants below. Their words meant nothing to Mai in that moment and, as such, she devoted little thought to translating them while she focused on her observations. It had taken nearly an hour of arguing with the curator for them to be granted access to the archives and she would not allow herself to be distracted now. There was just too much to look through. Several basement levels rested beneath the museum and some of them, as their guide had explained while leading them down the familiar halls of the ground floor, had not seen much traffic in years.
"Security doesn't do rounds below the exhibits?" Monk had questioned the younger man curiously.
The combined groups of BSPR and SPR had returned to the museum in the wake of Toby's kidnapping by only a handful of hours. Not a single one of them had felt comfortable with sitting around, fearful of continuing their investigation, while Toby's whereabouts were unknown - especially considering the likelihood that he had been taken by the entity they were hunting. Mai had made it known that they all had the option to return home if they so chose and their refusal to give up warmed her heart. Andrew, Nora, and Tristan might not have had much experience with the true horrors of the paranormal but they certainly had the guts to try anyway.
So while the group of investigators gathered back at base and grimly went about collecting the data the equipment had gathered in their absence, replacing batteries, and setting up computers - a handful of them requested access to the levels below in search of clues regarding Toby's whereabouts. Frustrated with their dogged determination, the curator had supplied them with his own assistant to act as a guide down into the depths of the museum.
"Not too often these days," Marvin, a genial man who would likely be replacing the curator after his retirement, answered regretfully. He may have been a handful of years younger than Monk, and even Lin, but he was already greying at the temples. The salt and pepper look suited him, Mai had supposed, but it was clear the life of an up-and-coming curator was not an easy one. Still, like the current curator, there was a spark in Marvin's eye that simply refused to diminish in the face of adversity.
"With the new security system, combined with the fact that there's really only one way in and out of storage, there wasn't much of a reason to continue. We'd immediately be alerted if the doors were opened and the cameras would catch any movement."
Monk had frowned at that but it was clear he had no argument against such reasoning - it was only his experience with the paranormal that cautioned him against such negligence. It wouldn't be fair to expect such vigilance from those who had never been exposed to the things SPR had. Still, he shared a knowing look with Lin as they hurried down the hall.
Mai, on the other hand, had felt her heart flutter fearfully in her chest at Marvin's words. There was only one way in or out of the basement? Such knowledge sparked a primal terror from deep within that threatened to overwhelm her even before the assistant had unlocked the metal doors covered in chipping green paint to reveal an ominously dark stairwell.
It was disturbingly familiar, as she expected. She easily recalled the memory of a man standing at the top of the stairs while a river of blood and gore flowed down the steps in a mockery of some peaceful water feature. Lydia had paused at the bottom just long enough to look up, to engrave the image deep within her wilting mind, before she had spun on her heel and pushed through the other set of doors. Mai suspected that she had never returned to the surface of the museum - at least, not as a living breathing individual. It was only her spirit, broken and dwindling as it was, that continued to sprint down the halls in desperation - hopelessly seeking out a path of escape where there was none.
Mai paused at the top of the steps while the others parted around her and delved into the darkness without hesitation. Marvin's voice bounced off of the cement walls as he continued to explain the details of their security system while Monk and Lin listened from either side. But it was Oliver who took a few steps before stopping to turn back to her with a questioning look. He was as composed as ever in the face of his son's kidnapping, but Mai had honestly expected no less from him. Internally, she knew he was a storm of righteous anger waiting for the right moment to rain hellfire down upon the enemy, but he was as placid as a tranquil spring on the surface. He had been since the moment he woke up after returning from the astral plane.
Half shrouded in the dark of the stairwell, he looked haunting.
"Sorry," Marvin's voice cut through the moment of stillness, "The damn motion sensor was installed at the bottom of the stairs. We tried putting a ticket in to have the issue corrected but, as you can imagine, it's a little low on the priority list."
Bright light burst to life without remorse as the men reached the bottom of the stairs and tripped the sensor. Mai's eyes slammed shut against the sudden onslaught just as a hand reached out and gripped her wrist.
"Mai."
Oliver called out to her in that gentle tone, laced with only the idea of urgency, but, curiously, his voice sounded from several feet below her.
It was not his hand wrapped around her wrist.
Mai squinted in the new light that suddenly seemed far less hostile and blinding than before. The grip on her wrist had not slackened and, despite the iron strength behind the hold, she could not bring herself to fear the one holding onto her. The hand was slick with cooling blood, fingers trembling in exhaustion and terror, brittle and frail.
But still, Lydia would not release her. Would not let her set foot into the darkness below.
Mai turned her gaze to her left and took in the details of the young girl at her side with heartbreaking reverence. Dark and wild curls, once shimmering and healthy, framed a gaunt face that had once been filled with so much joy. Mai knew for a fact that Lydia's cheeks had ached with laughter more days than not when she was alive. Her eyes were dark, yellowed, and bloodshot, too afraid to meet her gaze. Lips blue and cracked. Her sweater and jeans were torn and dirty.
Mai could not recall a moment in her life when she had seen a spirit of any kind with such clarity and so she greedily took in every detail - every loose thread, every stray hair, every smudge of dirt, blood, or bruise that marred her image. Lydia was using everything she had, every spare bit of energy she had managed to gather while she ran, to appear before Mai at that moment.
"I have to go, Lydia," Mai quietly murmured.
At the base of the steps both Lin and Monk turned to look back in surprise and alarm, leaving Marvin to stand in the open doorway in confusion. Unlike the investigators, the assistant had little to no spiritual sensitivity so he was not privy to the sight before them. Even Monk, as limited as he was in sight, managed to make out a vague figure standing next to Mai at the tops of the stairs.
Lydia lifted her glistening eyes to Mai's. Pleading.
Mai bit her lip in frustration and uncertainty. Lydia was frightened and she had every right to be, after all that she had been through…She had latched onto Mai and, really, it wasn't all that surprising considering her abilities. She was fearful of losing her - the first connection she had forged with anyone since her death. To lose Mai would mean she would have to start all over again, to keep running, and Lydia (no doubt) felt she didn't have it in her to continue.
Distractedly, Mai reached a fumbling hand into the pocket of her suit jacket.
"Mai," Oliver called out warningly, taking a step up as if to stop her but the look she settled on him left him rooted to the spot.
"I can make another if I have to," she assured him calmly. Still, there was guilt threatening to swell forth. She had yet to recollect the memory of when she had given the bracelet, crafted from a lock of her hair, to Toby - now she never would - but she still felt the gravity it held. The emotions were still there and she felt them tug at her heartstrings regardless of her assurances.
Lin pursed his lips, fists clenched at his sides, and watched on silently as Mai pulled the bracelet from her pocket and offered it to the spirit of Lydia with the same gentle care she had used with Toby. It sat innocently in her outstretched palm and, just as Toby's had, Lydia's eyes alighted upon it with a soul-deep knowing and fear. Like Toby, Lydia understood what it was that Mai was offering her and her response was enough to soothe some of Lin's reservations - but not all of them.
"You can hold onto this for me," Mai explained, "Until this is all over. It belongs to Toby."
The hand clutching Mai's wrist slowly released its hold and, trembling, accepted the bracelet. It sat within Lydia's palm like a warm stone. Soothing waves of energy rolled through her as they watched and her pale and dirty skin seemed to glow with new life, if only for a moment. Lydia may not have been an empath but given she had long since left her mortal coil, she could easily see the power radiating from the piece of jewelry, see its ripples in the astral plane. Toby had once likened Mai's power to that of a lighthouse in the darkness, a bonfire that reveled in the company of loved ones, but to Lydia - who had spent three decades running for her life in darkness - the bracelet felt like the hilt of a radiant sword in the palm of her hand.
Mai smiled tightly, mixed emotions swirling within her chest before she stepped down to join the others. It was the best she could do for Lydia at that moment. She was still trapped within the museum, incapable of passing on, but some comfort was better than nothing. Mai knew from experience that, sometimes, having something, anything, was better than nothing. There was a reason she had held onto her mother's housekey after all those years.
She felt the glaring lack of the silver chain at that moment more than ever before. Her fingers reached up to brush against the collum of her throat while hoping that it was still providing some aid to Toby. It hadn't been found in his bedroom when they searched through the crime scene so she could only assume the boy had held onto it and treated it with just as much care.
Oliver watched her pass, something a bit like betrayal wriggling in the back of his mind but refrained from commenting on the matter further. It stung to see her give up the gift that had allowed him to hold his son, but he had also learned to trust Mai's instincts when they were still just children. Oftentimes the actions she took resulted in a favorable outcome and so he made an effort to remind himself as he turned to follow in her wake down the stairs.
The memory of her astral plane flitted through his mind - placid waters disturbed by a glaring wound that pulsated with evil intent. Her form, effervescent and splattered in golden ichor, eyes filled with indignant rage and grief - grief over the fact that she would have to give up the memories of his son to save Oliver's life.
He couldn't bring himself to doubt her now. He wouldn't.
Lin held the door for them all as they passed before he lifted his gaze back to the top of the steps. Lydia's eyes flitted between the bracelet in her hand and Mai's retreating figure before she clutched the object in her grip with something like a determined frown pulling her lips (no longer blue and cracked) and then she disappeared from view. The top of the stairs was empty once more, nothing but the fluorescent lighting dwindling as the metal doors finally swung shut in the absence of any obstructions.
After that, they all parted ways the moment they entered the lowest level of the museum as if they had been ripped away by differing currents. Monk followed after Marvin (who seemed shaken and confused by what he had witnessed), listening to the man as he spoke, while Lin and Oliver delved into the depths of the museum filing system - rows upon rows of bookshelves that were laden down with books, scrolls, and delicate files each contained within their own climate controlled storage boxes. It was only a few minutes later when the curator himself joined them with a pair of police officers in tow.
Mai had paused over a large crate stamped with a code of some sort, likely denoting its specifications, to watch the men join the search. It was hardly the first time the authorities had gotten involved with a case - given the sensitive and sometimes grotesque nature of the hauntings, Mai had often contacted the police herself to bring a cold case to a close. But these officers, Mai reminded herself haltingly, were looking for Toby. A boy she only half knew now, but who was all the more important for it.
She spared a moment of thought to wipe off the drying blood from Lydia's hand using the inner lining of her jacket. She'd have to get it dry cleaned later otherwise Ayako would throw a fit, but she could worry about that then. The last thing she needed was the police questioning her. They were already on the hunt for Sam so she was certain the rest of them would eventually be interrogated but she'd like to put it off as long as she could - presumably until Toby was found.
Absently, she reached up to tug at a strand of her hair before pulling her eyes away from the newcomers to examine the rest of the room. A part of Mai had expected the walls and ceiling to be made of rough cut stone, the floor nothing more than packed dirt, and a severe lack of lighting - but nothing could be further from the truth. The expectation clashed with reality and left her feeling off-kilter in a way she had only grown to familiarize herself with as time wore on. In the memories she had experienced, Lydia had felt as if she were being swallowed by the Earth itself. Mai's own experience on her astral plane had mirrored those expectations. This could only mean that this room, Mai theorized to herself, wasn't the actual location they were looking for.
Her eyes scanned the basement in a new light. During her trip through the astral plane, she had been lured down into the underbelly of the museum via an elevator before she was forced to wad through water and then thrown into a cavern. Yet, she recalled, Marvin had led them down a set of stairs stating it was the only point of entry into the archives.
Something wasn't adding up, she mused grimly to herself, crossing her arms and turning on her heel to scan her surroundings. The astral plane was not a place set in stone, but it usually utilized the physical realm as a sort of blueprint for its makeup when she needed it to. That is to say, it was unlikely that an elevator would have been materialized just for the scare factor.
"Hmm," she hummed to herself in thought, lifting a curled finger to her chin. After so many years writing horror mystery novels, Mai was beginning to suspect they were dealing with something a little more cliche than she had expected.
"What is it?"
Mai lifted her eyes to Monk as he crossed the room, boots scuffing against the cement. He had left Marvin with the curator and the officers to join her where she stood at the foot of a veritable mountain of storage crates. She had adopted the thoughtful pose of one Oliver Davis, a habit she had picked up from the very beginning all those years ago, and Monk had learned to take heed when her gears started turning.
Mai did not answer immediately. Instead, she cast her gaze over to Oliver, who had stepped out of the maze of bookshelves to join them, likely picking up on their hushed conversation. His faithful shadow, Lin, was close behind him. It seemed Lin had attempted to speak with Oliver regarding the situation and failed spectacularly, judging by his pursed lips and furrowed brow. The man looked downright intimidating, but he was likely just frustrated and worried on Oliver's behalf. He had watched his friend push himself to the brink chasing after his brother's body, for well over a year. And the following years after his success weren't anything to scoff at.
"I don't think this is the lowest level of the museum," Mai admitted quietly, hesitantly. She crossed her arms against a chill and shuffled closer to Monk out of habit to ward off the shift in temperature, although she was uncertain it was truly a matter of a draft. If her theory was correct and there was another level they were unaware of then, regardless, it was still the closest they had physically come to the culprit of the case. In a physical sense, at least.
"You suspect they're lying?" Oliver questioned in hushed tones. Dark circles hung beneath his eyes and he was a little colder, a little quicker to anger, but it was clear he was doing his best to remain composed. Mai truly felt for him in that moment.
"No," Mai mumbled with a shake of her head. "I think they've likely been ignorant of it."
Oliver crossed his arms in thought, casting a look in Lin's direction. The size of the property had meant there were a few routes they hadn't taken with the investigation but now he felt they had been fools not to be so thorough. The curator had also posed an issue in that regard, but with the authorities now involved it was likely he would put up very little in the way of a fight when it came to their methods. Oliver had even heard him mention closing the museum down for the duration of the search for Toby although he had yet to take any definitive action.
"We should get the team down here to collect measurements," Oliver murmured cooly, "I'll have Andrew verify the floor plans of the museum with what we find. We should also request access to all records of construction and renovations."
"You think the curator will comply?" Monk asked gruffly. The man had been helpful from the very beginning but they also hadn't pushed much for sensitive information. There had been many an investigation in which the client turned nasty when they were asked to provide information they viewed as private or unrelated. He doubted the curator of a historical and famous museum would be any different - it had taken them an hour of arguing to get into the archives alone.
"I don't foresee any issues with the police present," Oliver assured him. He had helped them with hundreds of missing person cases before he had even turned eighteen, they would likely pave the road for his efforts without question.
With that in mind, Mai felt no shame in stepping back to watch as Oliver Davis straightened the cuffs of his shirt before striding across the floor to join the gathered group of men, cool and composed as ever. They were too far away for her to make out his words, especially because his back faced her, but she scrutinized the curator's face with a predatory focus. He looked utterly bewildered by whatever Oliver had said, sending the officers several furtive looks in hopes of aid, but the officers themselves were all ears for Oliver. They stood at attention as he approached, nodded along as he spoke, and then gestured for the curator to lead the way. He looked utterly defeated. Having suffered the wrath of Naru more times than she could count, Mai felt for the man, but any discomfort or uncertainty on his part was worth it if they could find Toby.
"He's so scary," Monk muttered with a dramatic shudder, managing to earn a chuckle from Mai that surprised her. She hadn't felt quite like herself since her initial return from the astral plane, and humor had certainly been the furthest thing from her mind in the following events…but, she dared to hope that things would turn out well.
"I think I might be more suited to grunt work."
"After all these years?" Yasuhara mused in return. The man was hunched over a coffee table in the primary office of the museum, scrutinizing a stack of papers spread out across the low table. He had rolled up the sleeves of his white button-down shirt before getting to work and pulled his glasses on in preparation for the inevitable burn of strained vision.
The office itself was large, boasting several doors dedicated to specific branches of the care and management of the museum. The lobby was currently filled with members of the investigation team and museum staff alike, all pouring over records that reached back to the nineteenth century - since the building's initial construction - in hopes of finding some mention of another level belowground. The atmosphere was overall one of quiet, if a bit frustrated, focus as the grey light of the midday London sky spilled in through the half-closed blinds.
The curator himself had expressed his doubt of finding anything and many of his staff mirrored his general mood on the matter but Marvin himself seemed entranced by the idea. He had a head for mystery and, Mai had been rather bemused to learn, he was a fan of her writing. She had watched him slide the final copy of her series across the coffee table with hopeful eyes in bafflement before realizing he wanted it signed. He had taken to the search with relish and was crouched on the other side of the office over a collection of old boxes filled with papers, the newly signed copy of Mai's final novel tucked away in his office for safekeeping.
"There's just something so easy and calming about checking equipment and leaving all the big decision-making to others," Mai admitted with a heavy sigh. Her own eyes were straining against the minuscule print of the files spread out before her. She had been reading through English documents for well over an hour now and she feared she was making little headway.
Yasuhara had seated himself at a brown leather armchair, dragging it closer to the coffee table while he worked, with his laptop perched atop a knee. He was doing his best to cross-reference the records with what information they had managed to gather on the museum since their arrival but it was a slow process. At Mai's words, he pulled his eyes from the laptop screen to fix her with a look of bewilderment. Where was this coming from? Mai had been championing the independent and successful girl-boss way of life for the past decade, such an admission now did not bode well for her career.
"Mai," Yasuhara called in jest, "Just because you've managed to catch yourself a halfway decent man doesn't mean it's time to pack the business pumps away, you know?"
"Ugh," she grumbled in response. Anything she had going on with Oliver Davis was currently up in the air and to be announced as far as she was concerned. And she couldn't even bring herself to pursue the line of thought beyond 'Toby was missing' anyway. She just wanted a break from the chaos that was her life (once the case was solved) like she had initially been attempting to do when she arrived in London. Maybe when all was said and done she could try again - this time she'd go to Norway, or Canada, somewhere she had no connections with. But Toby first.
"What in the world are you on about?" Ayako grouched from where she sat on the matching sofa. She had pulled on a long skirt made of soft brown suede and a pair of black ankle boots to compliment the black sweater currently swaddling her against the day's chill. One leg had been tossed over the other with a huff twenty minutes ago, her own collection of records resting on the couch at her side while a handful of papers were clutched between an irritable grip.
"Now isn't the time, Yasuhara," Masako admonished quietly while coming to a stop to set a few glasses of water atop the coffee table for those working around it. Despite the current circumstances, Masako was steady as a mountain, balancing the tray of glasses in her arms with ease. Mai suspected she had chosen the grey kimono that day with just that thought in mind. She had paired it with a lilac obi that provided just a splash of an appropriate amount of color.
When they were still teenagers, Mai recalled, Masako would have succumbed to her anxieties by then - overwhelmed with the situation and the amount of suffering - but she had long since learned to remain in control. At least, outside of the presence of the suffering spirits themselves. As they had all witnessed at the beginning of their investigation, she did still tend to swoon - not that they blamed her for that, Mai herself had passed out on a handful of occasions on the same case already. For those with such abilities, it really should have been considered the norm.
"I know," Yasuhara assured them all with a sigh, lifting a stack of papers distractedly. Unfortunately, humor was his answer to just about every emotion, including stress. He could have done stand-up comedy during his college days.
"It's alright, Yasu, we understand," Mai assured him with a gusty sigh. She lifted her gaze to the rest of the office to take stock of the others.
Andrew, Oliver, and Lin had taken up roost within a small office at the back of the lobby. The wooden door had been wedged open with a potted plant and the single dusty desk that stood within the center of the room played host to the original blueprints of the museum. One of the police officers stood at the door with the curator, watching as the three men carefully handled the fragile document with great interest. Lin's laptop sat on the windowsill inside the office and, every few minutes when someone would bring a document with possible relevance to them, the man would turn to add it to the growing file on his computer.
John had joined the secretaries at the large desk that ran the length of the room to interview them. The two women had been working at the museum both for well over a decade and there was no telling what sort of information they may have come across during their day-to-day. It was quite obvious they were smitten by the man which, Mai would admit, was exactly why they chose to send him in whenever older women were involved. They simply could not resist the cherub-like charm he had managed to keep throughout the years.
Monk, Tristan, and Nora had all joined Marvin on the ground in the far corner of the lobby. The storage closet door had been tossed open and its contents spread across the maroon carpet while the four scoured the boxes for clues. Their murmured conversation was too low for her to make out any of the words but it was clear they were immersed in their work.
Suddenly finding herself incapable of sitting still any longer, Mai pushed herself to her feet with a stretch. She had tossed her jacket over the back of her chair so she was able to work the kink out of her shoulder without her movement being restricted and she did so with relish now. Masako had just taken a seat on the couch next to Ayako and both women turned their gaze to watch Mai curiously.
"Where are you headed?" Masako asked quietly.
"I'm going to the restroom," Mai answered half-heartedly. She didn't necessarily need to use the facilities but it was the easiest excuse to walk off some of the pent-up energy that was burning away within her muscles - something that she had thought she had grown out of years ago.
A few glances were tossed her way as she breezed through the office. She pushed through the main doors and out into the familiar staff hallways that they had all spent the past several days prowling through - the heels of her boots clacked against the linoleum as she strode forward without thought.
So much had happened…
With all that had recently occurred, Mai hadn't even truly had the opportunity to speak with Oliver about his brother…Or apologize for her outburst. She hadn't even really had time to think about their argument, or rather, her reaction while Oliver's brain was likely blue-screened.
"Oh, man," she bemoaned, running a hand through her hair. Sure, she had been under some extreme stress when it had all happened but she hadn't reacted to anything in such an emotional way since she was a teenager. She'd likely be agonizing over that moment for the rest of her life. Well, as long as they found Toby. She couldn't bring herself to imagine what life would be like if they failed, in fact, she outright refused to imagine it.
Fang would get back to Lin with news of Toby's whereabouts soon, she was certain of it.
"We're coming, Toby," she murmured to herself as she turned the corner towards the bathrooms. The path took her past a window and she cast an absent glance over the street outside before slowing to a hesitant stop in the center of the hallway.
The view outside was dark.
Mai clenched her hands at her sides with her shoulders squared. After well over a decade of experience, she was no fool. She had only just gotten up to go to the restroom and it hadn't yet reached three PM when she left the office. There was no reason for the sky outside to be filled with stars, bare of any clouds, and playing host to the familiar sight of floating orbs.
Something had pulled her onto the astral plane without her consent.
Somewhere, several meters beneath her feet, that monster was waiting.
The thought both stoked a righteous anger and a harrowing fear from within her. Whatever it was had thoroughly bested her on her astral plane, tore her form to pieces, and penetrated her very mind. She had managed to patch the hole it tore into her plane but that didn't mean she could face off against it directly.
Glancing back down the hall confirmed that she had left a trail of golden ichor in her wake. It glowed in the velvety darkness that had swelled forth to superimpose itself over the hallway.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Lin had expressly forbade her from astral projecting again and yet, this was the second time she had inadvertently disobeyed his request. Of course, Oliver had needed rescuing the last time and so she was certain Lin felt it was worth overlooking - hence why he had not said anything to her in regards to the matter since she had regained consciousness that morning - but she digressed. It was obvious that to step onto the astral plane now, at the museum, was a grave mistake.
She was being hunted.
It was easy to imagine hundreds of eyes swiveling in her direction, following her every step, hungry. To imagine that man… bloody and grotesque, prowling the halls himself in search of her. She was out in the open and vulnerable and alone. Like a deer in an open field.
Mai lifted a hand to her chest to ease the pounding of her heart. The hole there had closed since her last venture onto the plane but that knowledge did little to ease the pain. It was uniquely related to the monster from below, Mai knew because Lydia herself had experienced it as well. The terror was powerful enough to stop a heart. It had haunted Mai since she had first experienced Lydia's memories.
Breathe, Mai, she mentally cautioned herself. A trembling breath escaped her lips before she willed herself to step forward. The ripples that were sent forth by her movement were minuscule in comparison to the usual and that was purely through her efforts to minimize her effect on the environment around her.
The sound of a phone lifting from a receiver, echoing through the gloom of the astral plane, caught her attention and she turned her eyes onto a cracked doorway up ahead. Only the pale light of the moon spilled out from the depths of the room but it was enough to guide Mai forward on shaking legs.
Mai pressed herself against the wall and sidled up to the doorway with bated breath. Her eyes settled on the window ahead of her, vacant, watching as the drifting spirits of the astral plane danced about in a phantom wind, mingling with the stars. She had always found the place so peaceful and yet it was so close to true horrors that the people of the normal waking world could never possibly imagine. It was like the ocean, tranquil on a beautiful night, housing unknown tides and monsters below. There was no telling what was on the other side of that door.
Welp, there was no use in stalling any long.
Mai turned to eye the door and leaned forward, carefully sliding a trembling hand between the open crack, and nudged it. The moonlight spilled across the waters of the astral plane as Mai peered around the frame of the door and took in the sight of someone's personal office. Bookshelves lined a wall, filled with wilted plants and moldering books, framing a large window looking out onto a wildly monstrous garden beyond.
Someone stood hunched over the large wooden desk, the winding cord of a phone tethering them to the dusty receiver sitting on the desktop. Dark curls glistened in the moonlight along with the bloody footprints that tracked a path through the office.
Mai's breath caught in her throat with a gasp and she lurched forward to reach out to the individual in surprise.
"Lydia?"
The ringing of a phone pulled Mai from her dreams and she blinked her eyes open in the late afternoon light of the day. From the way she was lying, she could only assume she had fallen asleep curled up in the armchair she had claimed for herself earlier that day while searching through the museum records. She had kicked off her boots and tucked her sock-clad feet up beneath herself but someone must have laid her jacket over her while she slept. It was warm but Mai could still smell the scent of dried blood clinging to its fibers.
The coffee table was buried beneath a growing mountain of papers and Monk had joined Ayako on the couch since she had fallen asleep. The two were speaking quietly among themselves while Oliver crouched over the back of Yasuhara's chair to eye the man's computer screen while he worked.
"What time is it?" Mai asked groggily, running a hand across her eyes. She felt as if she had slept half the day away, eyes cemented shut and mouth dry. She hoped she hadn't been snoring away obnoxiously while everyone else tried to work.
"It's almost five," Oliver answered simply, turning to look in her direction. His shoulders were still taut with tension but there was a softness around his eyes as he met her gaze - an implication that still managed to send a thrill of anxiety through Mai's chest regardless of the situation.
Mai pushed herself up with a grunt and glanced about the room blearily to settle her racing heart. The majority of the team had cleared out it seemed, likely retreating to the warded base to compile their findings and plan their next move. Or, Mai mentally corrected herself, they might have gone out for dinner given the time. Lin and Ayako would have pulled rank to keep everyone on track and in shape in the face of the mounting danger ahead of them.
"I'm sorry?"
The exclamation shattered the contemplative silence that had fallen between the group and drew their attention. Only one secretary remained behind the desk and she had tucked a phone between her shoulder and ear while she finished typing up an email, but she now wore an expression of consternation.
"I assure you, Mrs. Williams, we made no such call," the secretary rushed to explain.
Mai slowly pushed herself to her feet, one hand gripping the back of the chair to steady herself. The secretary seemed to sense their attention and sent the investigators and helpless look, wordlessly asking them to intervene. Mai cast Oliver a quizzical look, still groggy from her nap, but the man only crossed his arms in response. In his way, he was deferring to her on the matter.
Mai padded across the carpeted floor in nothing but her socks a moment later and hesitantly held out a hand for the phone. The museum might not have made a call, Mai knew, but she had an idea of who exactly it was that had.
"One moment, Mrs. Williams," the secretary mumbled haltingly before she passed the phone over and settled it into Mai's waiting palm with bewildered eyes.
Mai lifted the phone to her ear and hesitated, breath trembling. A part of her knew how the following conversation would play out but she was still surprised when she cleared her throat and said: "Mrs. Williams? My name is Mai Taniyama, I'm a paranormal investigator here at the museum. You said you received a call?"
There was silence on the other line.
And then.
"I heard my daughter, she called for me…" Mrs. Williams said in a voice tight with emotion. It was clear she had been crying and, if Mai's suspicions were true, then she couldn't blame her.
Lydia had called her mother. But why?