Hi everyone,
I'm Lemon. I've loved Ghost Hunt since I was young, and I've spent years reading so many amazing fanfictions based on it. But sadly, most of them were never finished. So I decided to write my own—kind of like a redemption for my love of the original manga and those incredible fanfics that stayed with me all this time.
Some of the cases you'll read here might be different from the original story, and there will be new characters added or adjusted based on how I personally visualize things. If any of the cases or characters happen to feel similar to other fanfictions out there, it's because I've drawn inspiration from them and tried to bring everything together in my own way.
Prologue – The Beginning of a Thread
The first time the staff saw her, she didn't cry.
Most children did when they were abandoned—some screamed, some clung to the gates of the orphanage, pleading for their parents to return. But not her. She just stood there in the rain, small shoulders straight, soaked socks sagging around her ankles, staring blankly ahead with eyes too dull for a three-year-old.
The woman from the British welfare office handed over the girl's worn bag, whispered her name—Mai—and was gone. Just like her parents had been. Just like everyone.
At night, the caretakers whispered that the girl had been found. Rain poured heavily over the stone path as a small figure stood at the iron gate of the orphanage. Soaked to the bone, her small hands gripped the handle of a worn suitcase. Her brown hair clung to her pale cheeks, and her wide brown eyes were puffy but dry. Not because she hadn't cried—she had. She just didn't have any more tears left.
"Name?" a woman in her fifties asked gently, bending down to the girl's height.
"...Mai," the girl replied, her voice barely a whisper.
She was three. Abandoned by the only people she knew in a country where she couldn't understand the language yet. A mixed child who had no place to return to. But even then, Mai didn't throw tantrums or scream. She quickly became the child who helped the caretakers with laundry, fetched warm blankets for the crying toddlers, and stood on her toes to hand tissues to sobbing older kids.
The adults whispered behind their hands that she was a "mature child." But Mai wasn't mature. She just grew up too fast. Because when no one comforts you, you learn how to comfort yourself—and others.
Two years passed. The seasons came and went. And then—they arrived.
Twin boys. Quiet. Mysterious. Unsmiling.
They stood at the same gate she had once entered, both around five years old, with matching expressions carved from stone. Their skin was pale, almost ghostly against the stormy gray sky. One had his arms crossed, his gaze wary. The other stood tall and still, as though nothing in the world could shake him.
Mai watched them from the hallway window, eyes narrowing.
Their hair was the deepest blue—dark like the night sky without stars. Their eyes were the shade of the ocean's depths—cold, distant, unreadable. The boys didn't cry. They didn't ask for anyone. They only carried silence with them.
The caretakers said they were twins. No one knew their full names, just fragments: Oliver and Eugene. Foreign, strange—just like she had been once.
The younger one—Oliver—kept to himself. He read books too thick for any of the other children and refused to speak unless necessary. Even then, his words were precise and cold.
Eugene, the older by a few minutes, was... different. Though just as quiet, he had an air of calmness that didn't repel others but drew them in. When other children cried or threw tantrums, Eugene would quietly sit beside them, his presence alone enough to soothe. He didn't speak much, but when he did, it was to comfort, not criticize.
Mai tried to befriend them. She offered Eugene a piece of candy one afternoon, and he accepted with a small nod. She offered Oliver the same—he stared at her for five seconds, said nothing, and walked away.
She huffed.
"Okay then... Ice Prince," she muttered under her breath, earning a small chuckle from Eugene. She turned to him and added, "And you… you can be Ghost Prince. You show up like a whisper and disappear just as fast."
That was how the nicknames began.
Mai didn't mean them to be cruel. It was how she understood people—through names that fit like puzzle pieces.
Oliver became "Naru" one rainy day, when she caught him preening over his reflection in a window, fixing his shirt collar just so. It slipped out before she could stop it.
"You're such a narcissist… Naru."
The silence that followed was heavy. But he didn't yell. Didn't scold. He only blinked slowly and turned his gaze away.
From then on, it stuck. Naru.
She expected him to hate it.
But strangely… he never asked her to stop.
And she never did.
--
Years passed. Children came and went. Some got adopted. Others ran away. A few remained, rooted like stubborn flowers in the cracks of the stone orphanage walls.
Mai never left. Not until she was adopted by a warm couple from England—the Thompsons. Along with two boys: Killian and Philip. Killian, the older brother, was sweet and endlessly kind, always sneaking her chocolates. Philip, the younger but more rebellious one, teased her to the edge of frustration but would fight anyone who dared make her cry.
It was strange, going from having no one to having a family.
But Mai never forgot. Not the cold twin boys. Not their sharp contrast to the warm sun of her new home. Not "Naru" and "Gene."
They stayed in her dreams.
--
Mai's POV
They always felt like memories dipped in water—familiar but warped. The sound of rain hitting stone, the sharp scent of ink-stained paper, the pale face of a boy who never smiled at anyone but slowly, hesitantly, stopped avoiding her.
Naru.
And Gene, who once bandaged her scraped knee when she fell in the garden and told her, "Pain is just proof you're growing."
I missed them. Deeply. In ways I couldn't explain.
When we reconnected—years later—it was almost surreal. Like picking up a book I hadn't finished reading. Like seeing the ghosts of my childhood come to life.
They weren't boys anymore.
Naru had grown taller, sharper. His face was still unreadable, but his voice was lower now—calmer. He still corrected everyone and acted like he had a stick up his back, but… he asked me if I was eating well. And I saw the flicker of worry when I said I'd lost weight.
Gene… hadn't changed much. Still gentle. Still too perceptive. His fiancée, a lovely woman with warm green eyes and a sharp tongue
They were finishing up the packing, Eugene and his fiancée whispering and laughing on the other side of the room. Mai had just sealed another box when Eugene leaned over and gave his fiancée a dramatic hug from behind, nearly making her drop a stack of files.
"You're in my way," she muttered.
"I'm in your heart," Eugene grinned.
She rolled her eyes. "You're lucky you're cute."
Mai chuckled. Eugene caught the sound and turned toward her with a mischievous glint. "Speaking of cute," he said, nudging his fiancée. "Your future brother-in-law has been pacing like he's got a proposal stuck in his throat."
His fiancée raised an eyebrow. "About time."
Mai blinked. "Wait, what?"
"You might wanna go save him," Eugene added, waving toward the window. "Before he short-circuits from overthinking."
Mai followed the direction and saw Oliver—hands in pockets, posture stiff, staring out at the rainy London skyline. That familiar way he got when his brain was running too fast for his body to keep up.
She walked toward him, each step slow and steady. "Hey."
He glanced at her with that subtle twitch of a smile. "Hi."
Without another word, she walked into his space and rested her head against his chest. His arms came around her almost instinctively—warm, firm, safe.
They stood like that for a few moments, listening to the rain.
"You're warm," she murmured.
"You always say that."
"It's always true."
He didn't respond immediately, just held her tighter, one hand moving to her hair. Then, softly, he kissed the top of her head.
"I've been thinking," he said against her hair.
"That's dangerous."
He huffed a laugh. "Possibly."
She pulled back just enough to look up at him. "What is it?"
Oliver looked down at her, expression serious. "I want to marry you."
Her breath caught—but before she could speak, he kept going in that very Oliver way:
"I already submitted the documents for the business license. The company's name is finalized. Lin agreed to be on the board. Eugene will help lead the research division. We'll move to Japan in a week. And once everything's established, I'm planning to formally ask your brothers and the Thompsons for your hand."
Mai stared. "You—what—?"
"I wanted everything to be ready before I asked you. That's why I built the company."
Her mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. "Wait. You created SPR… so you could propose to me?"
"Yes. A stable professional foundation is an essential prerequisite for long-term partnership. Both in business and—" he paused, "—marriage."
"…What?!"
Oliver blinked. "Was the transition too abrupt?"
Mai just stood there, stunned, cheeks flushed and eyes wide.
Then she launched forward and hugged him tight—knocking a bit of the breath from his lungs.
He caught her, arms firm around her waist. "So, is that a yes?"
She mumbled something into his chest.
"What was that?"
She pulled back just enough to kiss his cheek. "That's a you already know the answer, idiot."
Behind them, Eugene called, "Did she say yes or faint?"
Oliver let his chin rest on Mai's head. "Still processing."
Eugene's fiancée cupped her hands around her mouth. "Bring tissues if she cries. Or faints. Or both."
Oliver smirked. "She said yes."
"I didn't say it out loud!" Mai squeaked.
"But you will," he said, touching her cheek gently. "Eventually."
She huffed. "I will say something. In fact, I have two words for you right now."
"Oh?"
She stared up at him.
"…What. The—"
He kissed her before she could finish.
--
So here we are.
Back together. A team. Older, wiser, a little more scarred, but still us.
SPR—Shibuya Psychic Research.
The name sounds official. The paperwork is boring. But the cases? The people we meet? The things we see?
None of it is ordinary.
And honestly?
Neither are we.
Thank you for reading
Stay tune for nex chapter ~