Chapter Text
On the way to the hotel they would be staying in overnight, though Mai was no longer mesmerized by the wonders of the airport—save for the sheer amount of foreign languages she was hearing being spoken—because she’d already been in two others and the wonder had worn off in exchange for exhaustion, she still couldn’t help but admire the sights of a city she’d probably never see again.
She would only be here for a night, after all, and as far as she knew, the cruise ship was setting off from here, but it would be making port somewhere else at the end of its journey.
She had been tempted by the sweet scents of likely stale pastries as they’d passed by the few bakeries still open at the airport, but she had resisted, not wanting to delay their trip solely because of mild hunger. Dinnertime in the dining hall of the hotel that SPR had reserved, though, had already come to an end—Mai was thankful that she’d had dinner earlier, even if the food that had been served hadn’t been the best she’d ever had.
She wasn’t picky, but Wagamama was mostly definitely not aiming for accuracy so much as wide appeal in terms of the menu they offered, and if she had to be honest, the prices weren’t worth what she’d eaten—but everyone else had seemed to enjoy the meal well enough, and so she hadn’t said anything.
(Chiaki would later admit that she hadn’t liked the entree she’d ordered much either, to Mai’s relief, but hadn’t wanted to admit to anything like that in the face of a nice gesture on the part of the Davises. Really, with everything else happening, the food had somewhat fallen to the wayside in terms of importance.)
Naru had wanted to share a hotel room with Mai, but they both knew that it would be a terrible idea, and would properly confirm to Luella that all of her assumptions about the two of them were completely correct. They were, of course, but they were still trying to keep a semblance of professionalism—at least to those who were outsiders—and so Mai was rooming with Hara Masako.
Naturally, Naru was unhappy about this—and it wasn’t the only thing he was unhappy about.
Naru and Gene hadn’t looked at or spoken to each other for the entirety of the trip to the hotel, which told Mai quite a bit about just how well the last leg of the flight had gone for those two. Their scents had been drenched with consistent irritation, and with both of their scents smelling like tea, albeit different types, the bitterness had blended to create a truly horrid mix. Even strangers on the bus had been twitching in discomfort.
But on the point of the rooming arrangements—Naru did not want her anywhere near Masako, which Mai now knew was because he thought that the medium would hurt her in some way.
Mai did not think that this was likely. Masako very much seemed unkind, but she also didn’t seem like the sort of person who would take advantage of someone at their lowest. At the very least, she doubted Masako would try to attack her physically; like the case had been at the Ozawa household, the night would probably just consist of verbal barbs.
Chiaki was rooming with Gene for the night, given that they were married, and Ayako with Houshou—as they actually were officially out as a couple. John was sharing with Yasuhara, and Taka...with Naru.
If Mai weren’t relatively secure in just how much Naru liked her, she might be a little more upset about that last room arrangement—but as it was, Mai was simply happy that she was the one rooming with Masako, and thus in the best position to find out exactly what kind of history the medium had with Naru.
She had just taken a quick shower before heading to bed, and was now exiting the bathroom, wearing the full-length pajamas she’d brought specifically for the case—made of thin fabric, since it would be warm, but giving her some of the modesty she’d prefer to have around unfamiliar people in the morning—slowly, as she couldn’t hear anything outside the door of the bathroom, and that made her a bit wary.
Hara Masako was seated on the loveseat in the corner of the room, the bed on the other side. The luggage next to her was zipped again; Mai had let her use the bathroom first, and the woman was now clad in a yukata that seemed to be for nightwear, making her look at elegant in the evening as she did in her daytime kimonos.
The woman looked up as Mai approached and sat on the bed, facing her. Narrowed, grey toned eyes met Mai’s as a particularly astringent lavender seemed to almost push at her.
“You understand,” Masako began softly, “that you’ll never be on his level? You’ll never be able to play on the same field that he does.”
Mai was surprised at the sudden antipathy—it was the sort of statement she’d expected in the past, but she had thought that they had something of a peace treaty, or at least a non-aggression pact, for the time being. “I know that I won’t get anywhere if I don’t try,” she replied carefully.
“He’ll never treat you as sweetly as Ichirou-san does Chiaki.”
Mai raised a brow, because that certainly wasn’t true. “Is that what you think?”
Masako’s lips became a thin line. “You say that as though you feel you know better than me.”
Mai shook her head. “Have you ever met with...Kazuya-shachou outside of work?”
The medium turned her head away, glossy black hair flipping with the movement. “What right do you have to ask me that question?”
“...If you had, you would know—he can also be kind, in his own way.”
At this, Masako stiffened—and abruptly, the scent of her flowers tinged with wilt and rot. With a twisted expression, she turned her face back to Mai. “I know that,” she said, voice small. “It is all the more cruel, I suppose, then—that he has never chosen to acknowledge that I, too, am more than what I appear to be.”
Mai’s eyes widened, but the other woman seemed to have said her part. She rose and walked around the bed to the other side. “I will sleep on this side. You may sleep on that one. Good night, Taniyama-san.”
***
Upon waking up in the morning, Mai was treated to a wonderfully sunny day—and a room devoid of anyone else but her. At the very least, Masako had done her the favor of opening the curtains—the windows behind which were the source of the sunlight that had woken her in the first place—and leaving a note.
You would not respond to my calling of your name. Perhaps look into situational awareness training? I’m sure you recall where the dining hall is.
Reading the note, Mai found herself at a loss. The words that the medium had said to her the night prior returned to her—along with the way that the medium had technically defended her on the Ozawa case, rather than ganging up on her alongside Suzuna.
For the first time, Mai tried to look at Masako not as competition, not as an omega to be jealous of, not as a stronger medium or psychic, but simply as a fellow woman. She tried to keep in mind the idea that the woman was actually similar to Naru, not just in terms of adhering to unrealistic beauty standards, but in terms of personal nature as well.
She found that looking at the medium this way, she didn’t dislike her quite as much—instead, Mai almost felt a sort of pity for the woman, having liked someone that was far too similar to herself.
Mai still wasn’t sure what part of her it was, precisely, that had made Naru so firmly and determinedly attached to her, but she knew that regardless, it would have never worked out between Naru and Masako, if they really were such similar people. Even if they had ever reached the point of entering a relationship—perhaps in a situation where Naru had instead decided to look closer to home for someone who could join him during ruts—they would have fallen apart because neither of them would have been willing to compromise with the other.
It was sad, in a sense.
But really—it was also none of Mai’s business. At the end of the day—Mai had no intention of giving up Naru to anyone, not when she was finally sure of and comfortable in their mutual affections. Not even if she herself didn’t feel worthy of him—that was her own selfishness, the card she held in her heart with Naru’s name on it.
She did, however, decide that she would properly try to get to know Hara Masako as she had all the other members of SPR—
At that thought, something occurred to her.
Weren’t we supposed to meet up with the other teams, before boarding the ship today? At...breakfast?
She took back her charitable thoughts and pity for her fellow medium. Hara Masako was an absolute snake!
***
Her sweet scent reached him before she actually appeared.
Naru raised a brow as he saw Mai approach, looking harried, a good fifteen minutes late for breakfast whereas Hara, her roommate, had arrived precisely on time. She had thrown on a yellow, floral sundress over a collared blouse, with beige flats; it wasn’t her most professional look, but it fit the setting and matched what most of the people around them were wearing. Even Naru himself was wearing a simple pair of grey slacks and a light blue dress shirt.
Mai quickly slid into a seat next to him without bothering to go and get a tray of food first. “Am I late?” she whispered anxiously, honey scent spiking with sourness.
“Only for the food,” he said, somewhat amused. He—and not Gene—had made sure that JPSR would be up for breakfast earlier than the other teams, including BSPR. For the time being, regardless of his personal conflicts with his brother, he would be working for the benefit of both divisions, so he was intending on acting as such. “Go get something to eat, Mai—the others will not be arriving for a while yet.”
She scowled at him for a moment, before sighing and nodding. Then she looked at his tray.
“...Can I ask what exactly...some of this is?”
Naru decided that it would be better for him to go with her and actually assist in picking out something for her to eat, rather than leaving her to her own haphazard devices. Once that was done, the table that JSPR was sitting at quickly became a cacophony of chatter—
They were, thankfully, not any louder than the rest of the dining hall, as they weren’t the only guests present.
But the ongoing conversations fell to a careful halt when Martin and Luella made their appearance, along with the rest of the team that had come from BSPR specifically. Naru was thankful to see that the members of the team weren’t too objectionable.
First, there was the head of the team and chief of her own lab under BSPR, Madoka Lin—also known as the bane of Naru’s existence and one of his first mentors in his current field. She was a beta woman with the stubbornness of an alpha and the demureness of an omega; her bubblegum and birthday cake scent had been hell on Naru’s senses when he was younger, but was much more bearable now, especially after having smelled an omega version of the scent on Mai’s nuisance of a coworker.
Next, there was Xingxu Lin, now Madoka’s elder brother-in-law—but for most of Naru’s childhood, his own mentor in meditation and martial arts. The sandalwood-scented beta man was a spiritualist, but his expertise lay in technology first and foremost as a result of being the eldest son of the Finwood Group—not that it mattered, as his younger brother had inherited the massive multinational company.
Naru sometimes wondered if that had been Madoka’s motivation in marrying the younger brother rather than the elder, but he didn’t care enough to actually ask.
His sandalwood scent also had a hint of the incense scent that Mai had noted among the spiritualists of JSPR—something Naru had almost forgotten about, being rather accustomed to ignoring it.
Then, there was Flynn Odita, a beta who didn’t ascribe to any particular primary gender as far as Naru was aware. They were primarily research-oriented, leaning into a focus on technology as Lin did but with more expertise in archival skills rather than working with hardware, and lacking in any sort of spiritual awareness of sensitivity. Naru liked them because they were calm as Lin was, but lacked Lin’s mile-long petty streak.
Naru was surprised to see, following them, one of the few people that hadn’t fallen victim to his reputation as the ‘Intern Killer’ in the past. Brandon Alfaro was a tall, thin omega whose scent evoked coffee and cream, absurdly fitting for his tanned skin and dark curls and eyes. He was research-oriented and in Naru’s recollection, had been deeply interested in folkloric history—oral accounts of past paranormal occurrences.
He didn’t know if the intern—or perhaps full researcher, at this point—had any sort of ability, but if he did, it was unlikely to be related to Naru’s own, as that would have come up in their shared history.
Taking a seat between Flynn and Lin—Naru had never referred to either Lin brother by personal name—was Benedict Russell, researcher and technician. Though the brunet, bespectacled man was a researcher, his main expertise lay in statistical and data analysis rather than in paranormal or spiritual research—his technical skills overlapped nicely with both of the other two, which was why they’d often been seen in each other’s company back when Naru had spent most of his time in Britain.
It seemed that was still true.
Naru didn’t know who the others that had been brought along were. There was a red-haired girl that somewhat resembled Matsuzaki in looks but had the timidness of a new intern and whose omega scent smelled of juniper trees sitting near Madoka, and then near here, two other girls—identical twins with tanned skin and dark hair.
All three were likely interns, he assumed.
It was a good roster, despite lacking in psychic ability. In the first place, those with skills like the members of JSPR were very much not common—it spoke to Gene’s immense luck that he’d managed to gather such a team in the first place, and the power of his charisma that he had managed to make such clashing personalities work together for years.
Naru could appreciate his brother’s skillful qualities while still being irritated at how he’d denigrated Mai to prop up his own partner.
The members of the team from BSPR hadn’t sat at the same table as those of JSPR, but the table were close enough that small exchanges could be made between the two. This was likely intentional—but no such exchanges were happening. The JSPR team was far too insulated to easily welcome outsiders, the exception made for Mai aside, and those of BSPR, on average, were far too reserved—
All except one.
“Noll,” Madoka trilled. “I see you’ve got a lovely young lady at your side!”
Naru wondered if there would ever be a day where Madoka Lin nee Mori didn’t serve as the bane of his existence. He didn’t think so.
Carefully, he ignored the curiosity in Mai’s scent—and the inquisitive looks surrounding them—and opted to not respond by way of occupying himself with a pastry. He regretted it the moment he bit into the offending dish; it was made of fried dough, covered in powdered sugar, and filled with some kind of fruit-infused cream, which meant that to him, it tasted absolutely disgusting.
Madoka blatantly laughed at him, and then turned her gaze on Gene. “If you’re that desperate to keep your secrets—Gene! How have you and Chiaki been?”
“We’ve been alright,” Naru’s brother replied cheerfully, as though he hadn’t spent the previous evening actively making Naru’s worse. It was a quality he couldn’t stand in Gene and couldn’t help but adore in Mai; how easily they bounced back from darker states of mind.
(This wasn’t quite true; Naru’s thoughts simply tended to turn for the uncharitable when he didn’t feel favorably towards a person. In this case, that particular uplifting quality was one he admired in both of their characters, and perhaps one of the qualities that tended to draw him towards certain kinds of people in the first place, though he would never admit this aloud.)
“And you all?” Madoka continued. Momentarily, she switched to Japanese. “Matsuzaki-san, Takigawa-san—I’ve heard you’re together now! It’s hard to imagine. And Yasuhara-kun—I do hope you haven’t forgotten our good times together!”
Yasuhara laughed, and responded easily in nearly unaccented English. “No doubt, Ms. Mori—ah, Mrs. Lin now, isn’t it?”
“That it is!”
“I can’t imagine the person who managed to tie you down,” Matsuzaki remarked, in halting but surprisingly fluent English. “Actually—I can’t imagine what Lin’s younger brother must be like.”
“And you never will, with only Xingxu for an example,” Madoka said in a lilting, amused tone. “Never mind that—how are you all?”
“The same as usual,” Takigawa said lightly. There was a hint of an American accent in his English, which felt strangely natural, but still posed about as many questions as John’s Japanese accent had.
But their histories are none of my business.
As the discussion continued on, Naru sipped at the coffee set out on the table instead of paying attention, watching as Mai’s head swung back and forth. He could tell she was doing her best to absorb everything that was going on—and that she wasn’t quite keeping up with all of the English being spoken.
Setting a careful hand on her lower back, he softly murmured in Japanese, “They’re only catching up on old news.”
“Ah-ah, Nolly-no-fun—first you ignore your childhood mentor, and now you’re whispering sweet nothings in a pretty woman’s ears?”
Mai’s scent spiked with mortification and she quickly tried to pull away from Naru; Naru kept her in place with a firm grip on her waist, ignoring the rather pointed look that Luella was aiming at him from her seat. “I was only providing her with a translation.”
“Oh, dear—well, I’d hope we aren’t isolating you from the conversation, now—”
“No, no!” Mai quickly exclaimed, waving her hands and directing a reproach-filled glare at Naru. “I am learning! But my understanding—is better than my speaking!”
“Your English is fine, dear,” Luella said, speaking for the first time since her arrival. “But I do think that before this sort of fun talk—perhaps some introductions are in order? I do believe that between us all, BSPR and JSPR will certainly be seeing the most of each other.”
The thing was, Luella wasn’t officially a part of BSPR—not really. But she did play a significant role, as Naru’s father wasn’t particularly social, though he wasn’t described as unfriendly (read: cold, cruel, heartless) as Naru often was. He simply preferred to speak on matters of research and didn’t enjoy making nice when he didn’t have to.
Naru understood this. It was one of their shared traits.
That being said, Luella was often with Martin because she both enjoyed the mystery of paranormal research, provided valuable psychological support to clients—and because she basically functioned as his voice, most of the time.
“I can’t disagree with that,” Madoka remarked cheerily. “Well—you all already know me and Lin, so I’ll do you a favor and introduce some of our less talkative members. These two are Benedict and Flynn—”
Naru didn’t pay mind to the introductions she was giving until she reached the three girls he didn’t recognize. He had correctly guessed that the red-haired one was an intern, but apparently the twin girls were...psychics. Much like he himself and Gene were.
That was...unexpected. It was a reminder that as things had changed when he’d spent time in England while Gene was in Japan, so they had continued to change when he had also moved to Japan, leaving England behind.
BSPR had not remained static in his wake.
And yet...and yet he found that it was not as upsetting as it might have been in the past. He was somewhat interested in the girls’ abilities—psychokinesis of liquids and mineral-based psychometry respectively—but he found that he didn’t particularly mind that he would not be present to see their progress, or what research might come out of it in the future.
After all, I already have my hands full with Mai, don’t I?
***
Mai was having trouble remembering all the new names she was being inundated with. All the clashing scents, too—even if most of them belonged to betas—were somewhat overwhelming, too many strong personalities in one space. She was thankful for Naru’s steady presence at her side, the curl of his scent pressing away that of others.
She wasn’t thankful for the arm around her waist that seemed placed strategically to embarrass them both, but there was nothing she could do about the offending limb. Even as she had tugged herself away from Naru, she hadn’t really wanted to leave his side—she was in much too unfamiliar of a position to want to be anywhere else, at the moment.
Of the various members of BSPR—once the pink-haired woman that had called herself Naru’s teacher had stopped teasing him, making Mai feel the deep urge to learn exactly what her ways were—it was the sandalwood-scented beta that was apparently Madoka’s brother-in-law that Naru moved of his own volition to speak to, first.
He had let go of Mai’s waist, but she could still tell that he expected her to follow him—and she didn’t hesitate to, curious as to what he was like with colleagues that he actually knew well, rather than that odd distance she realized was very much present with the people that he considered Gene’s coworkers rather than his own.
“No issues with the seal?” the man asked, in a calm, low tone. Something about his demeanor reminded Mai of Naru himself; the man was clearly significantly older than them, so perhaps he had been a sort of mentor to Naru as well, alongside Madoka.
Come to think of it...his name, it’s Chinese, isn’t it? Didn’t Gene say something about a mentor from Hong Kong, once…?
“Some,” Naru admitted. “But nothing that can’t be left for later discussion.”
The man—Lin—nodded, and looked at Mai. “Your assistant,” he said, in a tone that didn’t clarify whether the words were a question or a statement.
“For now,” Naru answered. “While we’re on the ship—I’d like to request that you instruct her in qigong.”
Mai blinked in surprise at that. “Eh? Martial arts?”
“Meditative arts,” Lin corrected. “Are you a psychokinetic?”
Mai shook her head. “No, ah...I have...intuitive ESP? I...see things, in my dreams.”
“Her abilities are tied to her instincts,” Naru clarified. “Qigong would allow her to have more direction.”
Lin considered this for a moment, and then nodded. “I can start her off with the basics,” he said. “I assume you would be continuing your own regime with her, after that.”
“Yes.”
“And have you kept up with that, until now?”
Naru pursed his lips slightly. Mai hadn’t seen him do any sort of martial arts while she’d been living with him, though she did occasionally see him doing stretches a couple times a week. “...Not regularly.”
“Perhaps consider it,” the man said drily. “Any difficulties the seal is experiencing may be due to that laxness.”
Mai wasn’t surprised by Naru’s response to this chiding comment, which was to walk away—she gave Lin a quick nod of acknowledgment, which he returned shortly, and followed Naru to where he was now speaking to the man whose name had been—Brandin, wasn’t it?
“Dr. Davis,” the man said in greeting. “And...Ms. Taniyama, right?”
Mai nodded. “Um, Mr...Arufaro?”
He laughed. “Just Brandon is fine.”
“Mai is also fine for me.” She glanced at Naru, who was simply observing their exchange without saying anything. Didn’t he come here for a reason?
“If you’re wondering about the history of the items on the ship, Dr, Davis, I don’t have much to offer.” Brandon said awkwardly. “I would have looked into them, but Mr. Bretonneau believed that it would be...uh, ‘cheating’ for any one of the teams to have more information than the others before we all actually boarded the ship…”
Naru’s scent darkened. “I see,” he said coolly. “And no one thought to suggest that perhaps if his priority is safety, rather than entertainment, at least some preliminary data may be of use?”
“...Madoka tried,” Brandon said, after an awkward pause. “But…”
“She lost her temper before she could get her point across,” said the oak-scented alpha sitting nearby. “After that, there was no appeasing the man.”
Mai wondered at what exactly it looked like when someone like Madoka lost their temper.
Similar, probably, to what it looks like when someone like Luella or Gene loses theirs. Maybe she was a mentor to Naru because she was Japanese? Or maybe I should just ask Naru instead of idly speculating.
But there was no time for that now. Just as BSPR and JSPR had begun to properly mingle, another group of people made their way to a table near them, led by an older-looking alpha woman with jet-black hair and smelling of grapefruit. A single silver eye glinted sharply; the other was bisected by a scar that evidently made it unusable.
Following her was a beta woman with hair so pale it was silver in the sunlight, the smell of cherries trailing after her; another beta that looked as though he were related to the first, smelling of almonds; a second older woman with a cane, this one an omega with the faint scent of carrots wrapping around her and wearing sunglasses; and lastly, a young boy whose alpha scent of amber was at odds with his dark expression.
Mai was a bit curious as to why he was present, as he didn’t look nearly old enough to actually be ‘working’ any sort of case, and she wasn’t sure how safe the ship was for children.
...Then again, if this is some sort of entertainment thing—like Naru said—some of the guests on the ship are probably bringing their children, aren’t they? So...perhaps it isn’t that dangerous…
Or perhaps it was the job of the teams that had been brought here to make sure of that.
Mai felt a bit of pressure press down on her, as even more people arrived.
The group with the child, led by the dark-haired alpha woman, had sat at the side of BSPR opposite JSPR. To the table on JSPR’s other side, a grey-haired beta man—short and stout—led the new group of people, as eclectic and curious as everyone else. Mai wasn’t sure if it was his scent that smelled of alcohol, or if he had at some point in the morning been drinking—given that they were in Europe, after all—but she was hoping it was the former.
Behind him was an alpha who seemed to be around Mai’s age, with spiky, rainbow-colored dyed hair and smelling of ginger; three betas, one who looked East Asian and had a large mole under her lip, and two with darker skin, one of which had massive hole-shaped earrings.
Those look like they hurt...how would you even get them in?
Mai had never seen earrings like them before. Her own ears were pierced, yes, but she only ever wore simple studs or tiny hoops.
Once all the members of the two new groups had been seated, introductions began anew; the dark-haired scarred woman was Ingrid Rutherford, the leader of the German branch of SPR, or GSPR, and the two blondes were Elisabeta and Gunther, respectively. The woman with the cane and sunglasses was named Connie Muller, and as her accessories implied, she was blind—a medium, capable only of seeing that which wasn’t on the plane of the living.
Mai could only spell these names correctly due to Naru, at her side, idly jotting them down with a pen into a little notebook. She noted that the pen pressed down with a bit more force on Ingrid, and his scent tinged with bitterness—there was some sort of past there, but it was clearly one of animosity.
When Elisabeta was introduced, she also couldn’t help but note where the woman’s eyes were focused—that was, directly on Gene. In particular, where Gene’s hand was set lightly over Chiaki’s—
She wasn’t sure if it was her psychic intuition or her woman’s intuition that was letting her know that there was a history there—and she decided that, all else considered, perhaps it was better to not be too curious about it.
Finally, the young boy who looked annoyed turned out to be Ingrid’s psychic son, Otto—and she couldn’t help but find her curiosity roused at the way he turned his gaze excitedly on Naru for a moment, then abruptly dampened by the way the gaze turned angry the moment he noticed Mai’s presence.
...Did I do something?
The stout beta man was the leader of the French branch of SPR, or FSPR, named Hugo Landry, and apparently the slightly-alcoholic scent was indeed simply his natural scent, rather than a sign of him having been drinking. The rainbow-haired person was named Blair, with a last name that Mai could not even begin to try to pronounce. The beta woman with the mole was named Minh, a name Mai recognized as Vietnamese, and of the two dark-skinned beta men, the one with the large earrings was named Antoun, while the other one was named Jamal.
She was already even more overwhelmed by the number of characters she’d met in the last few moments, and apparently, these weren’t even all of the members of both the teams—just those that had opted to come own for breakfast, or rather brunch, now.
“This still isn’t everyone?” Mai asked Naru in a quiet hiss.
“The cruise ship has twenty-five decks,” Naru replied in a low tone.
“Decks?”
“The equivalent of floors, on such a vessel. Of those, five are passenger-inaccessible—though only two are entirely inaccessible to those who are investigating. Nonetheless, the client has called enough teams for at least one to man each of the exhibition decks.”
“...How many are…?”
“About seven, so there are three more teams in addition to the ones that have been called from SPR’s branches. Beneath those, there are eight residential decks, on which both we and the passengers will be residing.”
Mai did the math quickly. “...And what about the leftover five decks?”
“Various other forms of recreation and refreshments,” Naru answered with a shrug.
“Do you know...the, uh, deck that we’ll be working on…?”
Naru pursed his lips. “You’ll have a choice, here. Regardless of which option you choose, we will stay together—either you can choose to work with BSPR for the duration of the cruise, or you can choose to work with those you already know at JSPR. It will only truly affect which deck you’ll be spending most of your time on—I doubt they will ban us from moving in-between, but it will make us more noticeable to the other groups.”
“So—we can alternate?”
“It will be considered unsportsmanlike to do so, but yes.” Naru stated this in a flat tone that indicated that he didn’t actually care whether it was or wasn’t. “However, we should still choose one group to stick with primarily.”
“...Aren’t we collaborating anyway?”
“We are, but we will still be individual teams, investigating separately. All of the teams will likely need to corroborate knowledge periodically, particularly if there are any occurrences that share common features. Equipment is a different matter, as the client is providing that, but otherwise—we will be reliant on our own abilities.”
Mai considered that for a moment. She thought back to seeing the way Naru had interacted with the members of BSPR, to the request he’d made of the man he’d called Lin—and she made her decision.
“I’d like to stick with BSPR, if that’s alright.”
It didn’t hurt that this way, she had a much better chance of interacting with the Davises and learning more about this part of Naru she knew nothing about.
Naru looked at her pensively for a moment, then nodded. “Very well.”
“Will that affect the...rooming suites?”
“No, you’ll still be sharing a suite with Hara.” He paused. “Unless you’d like to switch…?”
His scent nudged at her gently, as though prompting her to say that yes, she would like to switch.
Mai did not say this. Instead, she said, “No, that’s alright,” and pretended she couldn’t taste his disappointment on her tongue.
***
They were boarding the ship later in the day, closer to the evening, and so lunch would be skipped entirely for a grand dinner their first evening on the ship. In the interim, Mai found herself invited for a ‘little chat’ with Luella—this time, entirely alone. Apparently, Chiaki had already had this experience earlier in the morning—while Mai had still been sleeping, courtesy of the snake-like Masako.
Mai wasn’t one to nurse grudges for very long. But she felt that she was justified in being just a bit extra petty towards the medium—she understood, very well, what it felt like to be seen as only one aspect of your identity and no other, given the ‘family’ she’d grown up around in her teenage years, but that didn’t mean she would take that sort of treatment from someone else.
Mai was not to blame for Naru’s dislike of the girl. That was her own fault.
But...I can’t be too angry at her. I wasn’t that late, after all.
At any rate, dealing with Masako and her delicate potpourri scent wasn’t nearly as anxiety-inducing as dealing with Luella and her citrus-tinged scent. Though the beta woman’s scent was refreshing, and even just a hint similar in quality to that of Mai’s mother’s, at least in terms of being somewhat earthy, rather than calming her as it should have, it only made her stomach churn more.
I’ m a fraud.
She knew, of course, that this was insecurity talking. It was the wind blowing at the house of cards that made up the relationship she’d built with Naru in the present, the leaf that landed on one of the cards and nearly tipped it sideways. But it still distressed her, and it wasn’t just part of the aftermath of the Ozawa case, either.
She was afraid, to put it simply. Afraid that Luella would figure her out, afraid that Luella, in all her intelligence, would see the uneducated, high school graduate that Mai was and deem her unworthy. For all that Chiaki had feared Luella’s reaction to her, it was apparent to Mai that Luella had absolutely wanted to be there to support her and Gene, and had only really been hindered by Gene’s own fear of confronting his parents.
Perhaps Mai was a little upset at him, as well, but that was neither here nor there.
Luella liked her for now, mostly because she could tell that Naru loved Mai—if nothing else, Mai was secure about that, but the trouble was that she knew very well that love was rarely enough to hold relationships together—but if she learned the full, ungarnished truth—
Even a woman so kind as Luella might look at her like she wasn’t worth her time.
And even if Naru loved her, and would probably choose her despite that—Naru was hard-headed like that—Mai could not, yet again, allow herself to be the cause of a rift in someone else’s family. She wouldn’t do that to another family.
No matter how many times she told herself that the issues of the Ozawa family were not her fault—and even if she could separate herself from the people who had hurt her among them—she could not fully absolve herself of all blame. Things would not have been perfect, had they not needed to take responsibility for her, but perhaps they would not have been as terrible.
Stop thinking about it.
Luella wanted to speak in the room that she was sharing with her husband. “Martin is out talking shop with the boys, see,” she explained. “No need to worry about being interrupted.”
That only made Mai feel more anxious.
On that last leg of the flight, talking to Luella hadn’t been so bad as the woman tried her best to involve both her and Chiaki in the conversation. The same had been true at the meal they’d been treated to. But now, alone—
“Sit down, dear. On the bed is fine—it’s a hotel, after all, and we’ll be checking out in a few hours regardless.”
Mai sat.
Luella sat in a nearby chair.
Mai immediately made to stand. “Wait, Ru—Luella—“
On the flight, Luella had made it clear that ‘Mrs. Davis’ wouldn’t stand as a title of address for her, not if Mai was ‘so close to Noll’. It was first name, no honorifics, and she would take no less. On top of that, she had insisted that she absolutely needed to practice her Japanese if ‘both of her sons were destined to find love over there’.
“No, no, enough of that,” she cut in. “Don’t mind me—I’m not so old that I can’t handle in sitting in a loveseat for an hour or two.”
Mai swallowed. “I—I don’t think it’s right for me to sit on the bed if you are…” She trailed off.
A raised brow. “Sitting comfortably on a very expensive sofa in a four-star hotel?” Luella finished.
Mai flushed.
“I’m perfectly alright, Mai.” Luella shook her head. “But you—you are terrified of me, and I can’t understand why. You and Chiaki both, and certainly I wouldn’t be as cruel as to ask about it when you’re both in a public space.”
She gestured to the room. “So, here we are. Now—tell me, what exactly are you so afraid of?”
Mai froze. The room around her went blurry—as though the colors were melting, as though she were looking at it through a screen—
“Oh, no—Mai, dear, there’s no need to cry—”
I’m crying?
Mortification ran through her. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—“
“Please, don’t apologize.” Luella sighed. “Perhaps I was a bit too direct. I only mean—I mean you no harm, dear. I have never had any fantasies that I would be the one to find the ideal partner for either of my son, and I certainly never believed I’d become someone’s evil stepmother—”
“No!” she burst out. “No, Luella, you are kind—you are so kind—”
And I’m taking advantage of that. I’m taking advantage of you, and your son—and Gene-san was so cruel, but he was right to speak of me like that and he doesn’t even know—
“Mai,” Luella said gently, pulling her out of her thoughts. She wasn’t sure when the woman had moved to sit beside her, or when she’d gently raised a cloth to wipe Mai’s cheek.
A handkerchief?
It was so stereotypically British that just momentarily, Mai’s overwhelming guilt was stalled by a general sense of dissonance.
“Somehow, I feel as though you are afraid that we will reject you. That you are not enough for Noll, in our eyes, or perhaps that you are not enough for us—but you have no need to worry about that.” A small smile. “Noll loves you. It isn’t always easy to tell, with him, but with you, it’s obvious even to those who haven’t learned his language. Even you, I am sure, feel comfortable in that knowledge.”
Timidly, Mai nodded, even as she felt embarrassed about asserting such a thing. It had been easy with Masako—but Luella was Naru’s mother.
“Then know that if Noll loves you, we will learn to love you. There is nothing we could learn about you that will change that—and even if my son behaves foolishly, as they both tend to, I will not let either of them leave you in a position where you are helpless.”
A steady hand on her shoulder, and the comforting, soothing smell of silkvine and citrus. “Do you understand, my dear?”
Mai breathed in. Even though she couldn’t completely trust her words, the part of her mind that was wont to argue found itself unable to protest the older woman. “I—I do.”
“Then let us do our best together.” The citrus in her scent took on a mischievous tinge as her lips quirked in the way a teasing Naru’s did in Mai’s memories. “And keep my son on his toes, of course.”
***
Once the production that was boarding the ship was complete, the teams that were onboard had regathered and each been assigned a tour guide by an overly-friendly alpha man who had introduced himself as Jacques Bretonneau—in other words, the ‘client’ for this case, though it was more accurate to call him a sponsor.
Not only was he one of the sponsors of BSPR, who regularly attended galas and was the sort that needed to be schmoozed to—a word that Naru hated—this case in and of itself was not one that any standard client would request ‘help’ with. Bretonneau had the character of a businessman—not the sort of person who desperately needed the help of the investigators of SPR, or who wanted to make sure of the presence of a loved one, but a man with greedy eyes that sought two things—money, and attention.
He was not a man worth minding the words of for any reason other than posing a potential threat to safety by virtue of being a fool with too much power.
The cruise ship was structured as follows—the highest decks were the two staff decks that SPR did have access to, followed by the recreation and museum decks, then the residential decks, and finally, the lowest three decks which no one had access to, as they were for the staff that kept the ship running. The numbers of the decks went in descending order; the first deck was the uppermost deck, not counting the above-deck area, while the lowest was the twenty-fifth deck. The stairs leading onto the ship for boarding went straight to the twenty-second deck, bypassing the inaccessible ones altogether and providing immediate access to the lobby of the residential decks.
The assignments of the teams to the various museum decks were given by seven different assistants assigned to each of the teams, beta women with patently false, professional smiles and relatively unassuming scents that were clearly there to keep an eye on their work for the client.
BSPR would be given the first of the exhibition decks, the eighth deck. Naru wasn’t entirely sure if this was some sort of favoritism at play or not; unaware as he was of what items were on each floor in the first place as a result of the client’s sheer stupidity. Still, it wasn’t bad—he and Mai, by virtue of her choice, would be easily able to access the recreational floors.
The ninth deck went to GSPR, and the tenth to FSPR. The eleventh deck went to JSPR.
After that, he had the opportunity to observe the non-SPR teams that had been invited to this mess of an investigation. One was an American group with rather loud accents—it seemed that ASPR had declined to join their case for their own reasons. Another was a Russian one—SPR had no Russian branch for the same reasons it had no Chinese branch. Finally, there was a group from Korea, which was a bit surprising. That group lacked any sort of flashiness and seemed rather closed off, though there appeared to be familiarity between them and the American group.
The American group received the twelfth deck, the Russian group the thirteenth, and the Korean group the fourteenth deck.
With that decided, room keys were handed out—and Naru was once more faced with the aggravating experience of having to separate with Mai in an unfamiliar space and leave her in the care of people that he did not trust.
...Perhaps I should hire Ozawa Tajiku on as a secondary assistant.
On top of that—he was rooming with Gene again, which he’d almost forgotten about. His brother seemed as unhappy about this as he was.
“I have no qualms about rooming with Takahashi instead,” Naru told him. That was who Chiaki was rooming with—he was offering a swap of rooming partners.
But Gene shook his head. “No, this...we should keep it this way.” Naru’s brother sighed. “It’s probably going to be one of the best places to exchange more...particular details of what happens on each of our decks—the residential spaces, that is.”
He had a point. “What, exactly, are you expecting?”
“...Well, there’s a lot of haunted objects collected from shipwrecks, I’ve already heard. I don’t think our mediums will be having a good time.”
Come to think of it—Mai and Hara’s keys had indicated that their room was on the fifteenth deck of the ship. That was the uppermost of the residential decks—the one closest to the museum decks.
Don’t tell me…
He glanced down at his own key—it also had the number fifteen emblazoned on it, as did Gene’s.
“Give me a minute,” he told his brother, and went over to the FSPR group—he didn’t want to give Jundt any reason to interact with him. There were two additional figures with the group that he didn’t recognize, now; he paid them no mind and went directly to Landry, the head.
“Ah, Oliver!” the man called. “It’s been some time, hasn’t it?”
He was speaking in French, as he knew well that Naru was easily capable of responding in the same language.
Naru simply nodded. “I have a query regarding your room assignments.”
“Oh?”
“M. Dupont and Mlle. Latourre—are they both roomed on the fifteenth deck?”
“In fact, they have been—why do you ask?”
Naru questioned being honest with the man—and decided that a mere theory wasn’t worth the hassle. “No reason in particular. Thank you for your time.”
“Of course—and it’s certainly heartening to see that the great Professeur Davis has finally found his spring.”
Naru forced the smile he typically used for unpleasant social niceties, stated, “Simply a valued colleague,” and then expedited his walk back to where Gene remained standing with a raised brow.
Anyone indicated to be a psychic is likely to have been roomed on the same deck as us.
His brother stiffened as he heard the thought. Are you serious?
Entirely. I’m not sure about those who are rooming with non-psychics, but Chiaki is also in the fifteenth deck, correct?
...Fuck. Gene grit his teeth. Should’ve begged off this case like the American branch did.
There was no way Gene would have done that. He had been excited about the prospect of bringing the team he’d made himself on a case overseas, had been eager to prove himself to BSPR (and their parents) since the disastrous wedding that his marriage to Chiaki had been heralded by. Even long before that, he’d come to Japan because he’d chafed at being under the thumbs of others.
Naru did not like being restricted, either. But he was more patient than Gene had ever been; he’d been willing to wait until his physical appearance matched his mental maturity to run (though he hadn’t been willing to admit even to himself that he’d wanted to do the same until he’d received that diagnosis a year ago) and had made he’d had a valid excuse beyond just ‘wanting to research somewhere else’.
That his ‘valid excuse’ had been ‘wanting to see his brother’s investigative team’ was irrelevant. Gene’s running away from academia had, very conveniently, become Naru’s purposeful trip to further his own knowledge base—but he digressed.
You know very well you wouldn’t have, Naru reminded his brother.
Gene made a face—and then his eyes widened.
Noll twisted to see where the sudden alarm in his expression had come from—and realized that Elisabeta Jundt was heading his way, seemingly on a direct warpath right to Gene.
“I’m going to go talk to my wife,” he said aloud, and strode off, shutting Naru out of his mind as he did.
Naru didn’t bother trying to push past the wall. Further discussion on this case would have to wait until the actual investigation part of it began; instead, he decided that Takahashi had spent more than enough time with Mai, and that he did not particularly want to be in Jundt’s way as she attempted to jumpstart a melodramatic soap opera. Gene had, already, carefully angled himself so that several people were in the way between himself and Jundt, and also such that Chiaki had no way of seeing the woman.
Not my problem.
“N—Dr. Davis!” Mai exclaimed, as he tapped her shoulder lightly. His alpha was reaching out for her already, and he was doing his best to restrain himself, but he couldn’t actually gauge how successfully.
It really is aggravating that I cannot be intimate with her in a setting like this.
What was the point in continuing to hide when his own mother could so easily tell that he wanted nothing more than to spend all of his time with Mai, these days—he asked himself this repeatedly, the voice of his alpha side speaking, and continuously had to remind himself that the truth being revealed would be far more damaging to Mai than it would be to him, whether it was the whole truth or only parts of it.
The caramel notes in Mai’s scent were slightly bitter, tiny threads of anxiety pressing against him as she sought comfort in his presence instinctively. The subconscious parts of their brains that the instincts of their secondary genders resided in knew that they belonged to each other, even as their actual situation didn’t allow them to so easily stand close to each other and comfort each other the way Gene and Chiaki could.
“Let me see the number of your room,” he said.
Mai angled the key in her hand so he could see it—her room was 1508. His own was 1505. That was convenient—or at least, it would be if the room numbers gave any indication of how close two rooms were to each other, depending on the structure of the deck.
“Please take the time to drop off your things in your rooms!” called one of the falsely pleasant beta women. “We’ll reconvene in an hour for dinner—”
That was their cue. He nudged Mai in front of him as they headed towards the elevators, wanting her within his range of view. Only about ten people could fit in an elevator at a time, and there were only six total—so this would take a considerable amount of time.
Naru sighed to himself.