Same Old Lang Syne

Should old acquaintances be forgotten, and never brought to mind?

Timeline: fifteen years later, late December. Word Count: 1950.

Started this during the holidays, and then I got sick after Christmas and completely forgot about it. I considered holding it until next Christmas but that seemed a little extreme…

(Based after the song 'Same Old Lang Syne' by Dan Fogelberg, which is kindly played over and over every holiday season around here. I actually do love the song even though they wear it out, so I thought I'd spread the cheer. Oh, and if you have not heard the song – I use the word 'cheer' sarcastically…)

…

...

The small convenience store could not seem to shake the winter chill seeping in from outside, so Oliver Davis left his coat on his shoulders as he looked over the aisle of instant meals. He saw the Japanese lettering but did not attempt to read the packages. Fifteen years of little exposure to the language had given him no reason to. He could still speak it, and that was enough for him at this point.

A small Christmas tree was lit in the window, but the shop owner did not seem to be perturbed about being open late on Christmas Eve, the same mindset as most of Tokyo. The store's floor was dirty, though not at fault of the owner. Every time he mopped the walkway someone else came in and carried with them dirty footprints from the faint dusting of snow that was forming over the slush on the sidewalks.

The owner came down the aisle with a mop, murmuring an apology. Oliver stepped back with a nod. Oliver could see the owner's shoulders slump a little when the door bell dinged again.

Oliver's attention was drawn to the door, without knowing why – that is, until he saw the woman who had walked in. Her brunette hair was cut short like it had been when he first met her. Her dark eyes were wide and still earnest, in a face that had matured well.

She passed by the aisle he was in, and Oliver followed her without giving it much thought. She had stopped in front of a small display of Christmas cakes, mass produced and cheap. She gingerly picked up one, and studied it. She set it down with a small frown on her face.

He almost reached out to touch her sleeve, and hesitated.

"Mai," he said.

She started and turned towards him, and for a moment, it was as if she could not place his face. Oliver had to wonder if he had physically changed that much. He stopped his hand before it automatically adjusted the glasses on his face. He had not bothered with contacts today, since he had not intended on staying out in public for long.

Her eyes flew open wide.

"Naru?" she said with a quick intake of breath. She went to hug him, and her purse fell off her shoulder. She grabbed at it but only managed to spill its contents all over the floor. They both leaned down to pick up the items and their heads almost collided.

"You haven't changed much," Oliver said. She started to laugh so hard her small frame shook. He had to smile as she wiped tears from her eyes.

"What in the world are you doing here?" Mai asked as she straightened up. "It's Christmas Eve!"

Christmas Eve was a nice holiday in Japan, meant for couples. It did not reach the scale he had grown up with in England, and she would have known that. "I had a lecture a few days ago," he said. "Luella and Martin are out of town for the holiday, so there was no reason to rush back during some of the busiest travel times." He thought back at the dry little ramen cups, and asked, "Have you eaten?"

"No," Mai said. "But if you are thinking about going out to eat, there isn't going to be any places available. All the reservations filled up weeks ago."

"I wasn't thinking anywhere fancy," Oliver said. "I saw a small ramen restaurant around the corner that didn't look too busy."

She nodded, and picked up the cake absently. She held it stiffly in the crook of her left elbow, and he saw the ring on her finger for the first time. It was a simple gold band, but its location on her left hand left little doubt.

He opened up his mouth to apologize for the suggestion, but Mai cut him off. "Sure, that would be great. It'll be fun to reminisce."

Mai took the cake to the checkout, and the owner hurried over and rang her up. Oliver stood next to her, feeling awkward as the owner eyed them together as he placed the cake in a small bag, trying to decide if them coming in separately was on purpose or truly a coincidence.

…

The ramen restaurant was lively at the late hour, but since it was still a place that a couple would never come for a romantic date on Christmas Eve there were empty tables left here and there. Mai selected her choice on the vending machine in the front of the restaurant and watched Oliver puzzle over the small, faded pictures. It took her a moment to realize he was having trouble reading the text. She started reading the dishes out loud despite his protests.

They found a corner booth and shed their coats. Mai set the little bag from the convenience store on top of her coat next to her.

"I saw your lecture being advertised," she said. "I should have gone."

"It was expensive and frankly, not worth the price," he said. "You didn't miss anything. You would have learned it all years ago."

Mai nodded, and gave a smile that did not reach her eyes. As if she sensed this, she looked away, watching the other customers around them. Oliver found that he was examining the grain of the wood table. He had not expected this to turn out awkward, though why, he was not sure, since most of his social interactions did turn out uncomfortable unless he was playing the part of charming researcher looking for funding.

"I saw your last book in the store," she said. "You seem to be doing well."

"All right, I guess," Oliver said. "Sometimes I feel like I'm only writing the same thing over and over." Aware that he should not make her do all the talking, he asked, "How have you been?"

"I'm fine," she said, maybe a bit too quickly. "Madoka calls me if they ever need a researcher in the area. She told you I got married last year, right? It was a small thing, we didn't really invite anyone."

Madoka had done no such thing, but he knew he needed to say something before the pause stretched too long. "You don't need to make excuses," he said. "I understand nobody has really been in contact for some time."

"Everyone moved their separate ways, I guess." She nodded absently. "I always think of that case at John's church this time of year."

"There was snow then, too."

"Do you ever hear from John? He said he would write when he left Japan, but I never received anything."

"A few times. It's been awhile." He had hoped that the Japanese branch of SPR would have survived longer. Madoka told him once that he was the glue that held them all together, and when he stopped coming to Japan on a regular basis they all had drifted apart. The last one he had heard from was Masako Hara when she wanted to know if he would edit the English version of her autobiography. He had almost turned her down, but knew that there was no real reason to, except that perhaps he wished that era of his life would just disappear.

When Madoka had stepped down as the JSPR president, he had thought Mai would take the position. She had not, and he had felt he had no right to ask why.

Mai said, "It makes my husband laugh that I still put paranormal researcher on my résumé though."

"What does he do for a living?"

"He's on the board of a software company," Mai said. "Just a business man, I guess."

"That's nice," Oliver said. "Secure."

"Yeah," she said, "Keeps a roof over my head."

"But with no plans on Christmas Eve?"

"He had a business trip. He's going to be home very late," she said, not meeting his eyes. "How are Luella and Martin?"

"They are doing well. They are traveling in warm climates this holiday."

"That's nice. Why didn't you go with them?"

"I already had the winter season lectures scheduled."

The waiter set two bottles of beer down on their table with barely a pause as he continued to the next person who had hailed him. Oliver had a feeling the shop could have used another person to wait on tables.

"Did you order those?" he asked.

Mai nodded with a grin. "My treat." She nudged a bottle closer to him and took up her own.

"A toast?" she asked.

"To what?"

"Time," she said. He didn't ask for an explanation as they tapped the bottles against each other with a dull clink. He took a long pull at the drink. He had never acquired a taste for beer.

The waiter brought their food and looked at the empty bottles on the table with a slightly puzzled expression as if he did not remember leaving them in the first place. Mai caught his sleeve before he continued onto his next table. "Another round please," she said with a grin.

The food was of good taste, and when the waiter set two new bottles onto the table, she opened hers without hesitation.

"To innocence," she said.

"Whose?"

She rolled her eyes. "I didn't mean it like that."

Oliver shrugged.

"Do you like doing lectures?" she asked as she set her bottle down, a serious expression on her face. "Yasuhara does it all the time – he's a professor now, can you believe that? But I couldn't imagine standing on stage and just talking."

"I don't mind it," he said. "The audience is lively and interactive. The traveling is tedious though."

She swirled the few remaining noodles in her bowl with a chopstick. "Must get lonely."

He could easily have switched out tedious with lonely, and that was concerning. Being alone was not something he had ever thought he worried about. Oliver caught her eye and wondered if Mai had spoken more for herself.

"The years have been a friend to you," Oliver said. The comment had been sudden - maybe he wanted to see a smile come back to her face.

Mai stared at him. "Thank you."

He wasn't sure if he saw doubt or gratitude in her eyes.

No one had ever accused Oliver of being tactful, so the question, "Do you love him?" slipped out without him giving it a thought.

"I've never been a good liar, Naru," Mai said, picking up her unfinished bottle, "So let's just say yes and leave it at that. What's the last toast?"

"To now," he said.

"This very moment?"

"More like this whole evening." Since it won't come again, he thought.

…

They paused outside, watching the snow gently drift down. Oliver knew it wouldn't last long.

"I'll be going right," Mai said.

Oliver's hotel was a left, which gave him no reason to continue walking with her. Mai stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks, it was nice seeing you."

He watched her walk away.

For a moment, he was back in the office of Shibuya Psychic Research. Oliver closed his eyes and saw himself in the chair in the meeting room, reviewing paperwork as Mai served tea to a shaken potential client. Taka was taking notes behind him, and he knew Lin was teaching Chiaki in his office. Mai looked up at him and smiled, and he felt an old familiar pain in his chest.

His face was turned up to the sky. Instead of the soft flutter of snowflakes, cold, heavy raindrops were falling. He turned and started towards his hotel, a lonely home indeed.