A/N: This story begins immediately following the events of Akumu no Sumu Ie (The Nightmare Dwelling), at Agawa Midori and Reiko's house, and features several characters from that arc.

Canonically, the story is based on the novels, so there might be minor inconsistencies with the anime and manga. The biggest differences relevant to this story might be Takahashi Yuuko, or Taka, who was introduced in the After-School Hexer case (Takigawa's fan). Although she never appeared again in the anime and manga, she works as a part-timer at SPR in the novels, and she features as a minor character in this story.

October 12, Morning

The sun was beginning to climb rather high, and the rush of morning traffic had just begun to dwindle. Noticing that the streets were once more the ones she was familiar with, Mai jolted herself out of her drowsiness.

"Thank goodness the client lived this close this time," she yawned, with no expectation of a reply from the two reticent men sharing the van. Oh, what she wouldn't do for Yasuhara's company at a time like this—but he was stopping by somewhere else to run some errands, and he wouldn't be back until the afternoon.

The vehicle stalled to a stop in front of their building, and Lin and Naru exited first to do a final inspection of the equipment. "I'll go check the mail," Mai called, and sprang toward the postbox. Taka or Madoka should have gone through the post at least once while they'd been investigating, but it never hurt to check.

She fished the key to the postbox from her keychain with a grin on her face. It had only been two months since she'd been allowed to have it; Naru had never let her touch the phone or the mail during his whole secretive phase. The lid to the box opened with a clank, and she picked up the two envelopes inside—and froze.

Tokyo Special Investigative Unit, wrote one. The other came from Tokyo Metropolitan Police. Both were dated from yesterday—an unbelievably fast delivery time. She swallowed.

How many letters do you think Naru received every day back in England? Madoka had once asked. Ten or twenty, all requests to use Psychometry to find missing loved ones. Most of whom were dead by then.

The other two had locked up the van and were walking toward the office, the usual somber looks on their faces. She cleared her throat nervously and tried to speak in a light-hearted tone. "Hey, Naru… Are you sure you didn't forget to pay your taxes after all?"

He shot her a scathing look at her sudden question as if to say who do you think I am?

"But, if you forgot, you wouldn't know it yourself, right?"

"If something like that had happened," he said irritably, "it would be Madoka's oversight and not mine." He was about to say something else when he noticed the letters in her hand. "What's that?"

Her hand wavered for a moment, but she finally held them up for him to see. His expression didn't change as he looked back toward the office indifferently. "In terms of probability, it's more likely that they're fines for jaywalking addressed to you."

"Hey, I'll let you know that I'm an honest, law-abiding citizen—" Her protest was cut off as he deftly took the letters from her hand and tossed them into the waste bin. A conflicted look flitted across her face. She didn't want him to have to read those letters, but was it really alright to just throw away official documents as if they were everyday rubbish? But then, perhaps that was precisely what they were to him.

"If you have time to waste daydreaming about other people's mail, you should get started on cataloguing the new book deliveries."

"Fine, boss," she retorted indignantly, but he could see the unease still written on her face and sighed softly.

"I haven't sunk so low as to have my conscience bothered by refusing the whines of a few incompetent pests who want to slack on their investigative work," he told her crisply.

"Of course not. After all, you are the an egotistical jerk who thinks the whole world revolves around you," Mai grumbled in response, but her shoulders sagged with visible relief.

"I only recognize merit where it's due." With that, he disappeared into his office.

That was right, she thought. It was Naru, after all. Thick-skinned, insensitive, cold-hearted, with ice running through his veins. If she thought about it, it wasn't that much different from turning away half a dozen worried clients at the door every day.

And besides, now that she was on mail duty, she could sort through these unnecessary requests before he had to look at them. Yes, that was a good plan, she decided, but then another doubt crept into her mind and her hand stopped writing unconsciously mid-word. How would she figure out which were important and which were not? What if one of the requests really was urgent? What if someone's life really did hinge on Naru's reading? It was the police, after all.

The pen fell out of her hand and rolled across her desk, but she didn't notice. Hesitantly, she retrieved the letters from the waste bin and tore open the envelopes, reading them over.

Age 37, female, missing two months. Age 24, male, missing three weeks.

She sighed. If they'd been missing that long, she doubted even Naru could help them. Stuffing the letters back into the waste bin, she returned to her cataloguing.

The hours ticked by in silence when the door to the President's office suddenly opened. Startled, Mai's eyes flew toward first the door, then the clock. Twelve o'clock, noon.

"I'm leaving for today," Naru announced as he stepped out of his room.

His face looked normal, but his hair was slightly ruffled, and Mai had a sneaking suspicion that he'd been asleep until now. He had stayed up late reviewing the case data, after all. Moreover, he must have been tired after using his PK, even with Gene's help—not to mention suffering through Lin's lecture, which possibly had even more destructive power. Lin's fussy, fatherly manner had been a rare sight, and Naru had almost looked his age, no, maybe even youn—

"—Mai!" Naru sounded impatient.

"Huh? Oh!" She snapped to attention.

"Were you asleep?" He asked suspiciously.

Like you're one to talk, she thought, but decided that she was in enough trouble as it was.

"Sorry," she said guiltily. "What did you say?"

He sighed irritably. "As I said, if there are any clients, leave their case details on my desk. Also, you can leave early today, at three."

"Huh? Why?" She asked, baffled. "There's finally work to do for once, and if any clients—"

"Leave at three," he interrupted firmly, and she could tell that he wouldn't be negotiating the matter.

Jeez, fine, whatever, who wants to be here anyways? She muttered under her breath as she returned to her paperwork, listening to his footsteps leave the office and the click of the front door closing.

She didn't look up until she was sure that he was well and truly gone, and her eyes wandered around the room again. By chance, her gaze fell onto the gray waste bin, and she stood up abruptly. Now was her chance.

Mai rushed to the phone in the corner and punched in Madoka's number. On the final digit, her finger paused for a second. Would Naru be mad? He probably would be; he didn't like people meddling in his business, but Madoka might know what to do. She made up her mind and pressed the button.

Beep… Beep… She waited impatiently as the phone rang three times before she heard the click of the other end picking up.

"Hello, Mori Madoka speaking," the voice on the other end said cheerfully.

"Mori-san? Are you busy right now?" Mai asked nervously.

"Mai? Not at all! What is it? You sound worried."

"Um…" She wasn't sure where to start. "It's about Naru…"

"Ah," Madoka said understandingly. "It's only been two months, and that kid has already forgotten his manners, right? Don't worry, I'll straighten him out right aw—"

"That's not what I mean," Mai interrupted hastily. "It's… um… Lin-san sent you the case details for the Agawa house, right? There was an acquaintance of the client's involved… Hirota-san… was from the Tokyo Special Investigative Unit… Naru's psychometry... They know..."

There was a brief silent. "I see," Madoka's voice was heavy, and it was enough for Mai to tell that she understood the situation. "I'll grill Lin for the details later. You don't have to worry about it."

"But, I…"

"Don't worry about it," Madoka said firmly. "Oliver can take care of himself. Besides, since only the police was involved, I doubt his situation has gone public yet. Most likely, it's still classified information. It won't be nearly as bad as in England."

"… I see…"

"Since you're concerned, why don't we meet up for lunch this weekend? By then, I'll have looked into things a bit more, and I can tell you if there's anything to worry about."

"… Yes, that sounds good. Um—will you keep it a secret from Naru—that I called—I don't think he'd be happy."

There was a rush of static that sounded like a laugh. "Yes, of course. I'll be keeping my side secret for now, as well. No need to invite unnecessary scorn from him, right?"

"That's good," Mai let out a breath in relief. "Thank you so much, Mori-san."

"It's no problem at all," was the light-hearted reply. "I'm glad that silly child has someone looking out for him, even if he is as rude as he is. Take care, Mai."

There was another click, and then the dial tone. Mai put the phone back in its place and quickly deleted her call from the call history. Success—! She wouldn't be ill-suited for a life as a master criminal, she thought triumphantly.

October 12, Evening

By the time Naru returned to the office, it was five in the evening. The days were beginning to shorten, and the sky already had traces of orange and pink. He pushed open the office door and glanced around to check who was inside. Yasuhara was the only one there. The door to the materials room was closed, but Lin should be inside.

Yasuhara looked up to greet him. "Boss," he said cheerfully with a wave.

"You placed the order this morning?" Naru sank into the sofa and flipped open a book without sparing him a glance.

"I did. It should be here very soon."

Naru nodded in silent acknowledgement, and Yasuhara cracked a smile.

"If Taniyama knew, she would be mocking you silly."

There was no reply.

"She left at three today," Yasuhara hedged.

Still, nothing but silence.

"She did not seem very happy to leave."

The book in Naru's hands snapped closed. "I don't remember idle chatter being part of the work assigned to you," he said crisply, and Yasuhara put his hands up in surrender with a laugh.

"I wouldn't dare. I was merely reporting the day's events—"

He was saved by a knock on the door. A deliveryman came in with a large, flat, rectangular cardboard box. Yasuhara took the box cheerfully and signed, then waved goodbye as the man left.

Naru had returned to his book by the time Yasuhara brought the box back to his desk and cut the tape to open it, revealing a plain, rectangular mirror with no adornments or frame.

"Shall I put it up in your office, Boss?" He asked, lifting the cold glass.

"Please do so," was the cold reply. "You can leave as soon as you finish."

Half an hour later, the mirror was installed at the back of his office, and Yasuhara was gone. Naru finally stood up and walked toward the mirror, placing a hand on its smooth surface.

Gene? He called silently, but there was no reply. He hadn't been expecting one.

As he stared at his reflection, his mind sifted through the memories of the past year and a half. How often had Gene appeared? When did he do so? There had to be some sort of pattern, some theory to predict his presence. Was it necessity? Some formulaic interval of time? Certain external factors or stimuli? Mai had said he hadn't appeared at all while Naru had been in England. Physical proximity, then? But, why a mirror, and why now?

His fingers tapped the swirls of the wood on his desk as he pondered. The thought that perhaps he should ask in detail about Gene's appearances in Mai's dreams after all occurred to him, but he quickly drove it away. Personal experiences weren't reliable data, and besides, the idea irritated him.

He sighed. There was no way to make further headway on this theory without more data, and there was no way to get more data until his idiot brother decided to wake up. As he left his office and walked into the hall, something about the waste bin caught his eye. He couldn't place what felt off about it until his eyes fell on the words Tokyo Special Investigative Unit.

The envelope was torn. Someone had opened it.

He folded his arms. Lin, Yasuhara, and Mai were the only ones who had been in the office since this morning. Lin wouldn't have opened it, and even if he had, he would have mentioned it. Yasuhara might have been curious enough to take it out of the trash, but he would have been much sneakier about leaving evidence behind. Besides, no matter how he thought about it, there was only one person impetuous and primitive enough to forget to use a letter opener.

"Lin."

The older man opened the door to the materials room and looked outside in reply.

"Do we have any spare locks for the postbox?"

"No," was the brief reply.

Naru considered for a moment. "Get a new lock and replace it before tomorrow evening. Don't give the spare keys to anyone else for the moment."

Lin raised an eyebrow in a silent question, but Naru ignored him. "Is there something wrong with the lock?" He finally resorted to asking.

"Yes." Naru gave no further explanation.

October 13, Evening

The next day was a school day, so it was evening by the time Mai hurried out of the station. It wasn't quite dark yet, but the air already had a chill to it, and she shivered as she rubbed her arms for warmth. When she burst through the office doors, Naru was already inside, and he was sitting on the sofa out in the hall for once instead of in his office room.

"Naru!" She greeted energetically, and he glanced up briefly before returning to his book. That was actually a fairly decent reply for him, so she decided to forgive it this once. Besides, there was something even rarer distracting her attention, and she couldn't help but stare.

He wasn't wearing black. Well, more precisely, he was still wearing black pants, and the coat hanging nearby was also black, but his shirt was a deep, navy blue. The shirt was dark enough that she hadn't noticed the difference immediately, but it was unmistakably blue.

Her smile widened. Had he put aside his mourning for Gene? She doubted the grief would ever truly disappear—especially not while his brother was still lost somewhere in the afterlife for inexplicable reasons—but perhaps that was his way of expressing that he was ready to look forward.

"Did any clients come today?" She asked as she set her schoolbag down on her desk and hung her jacket.

"No."

She pursed her lips. "Did they really not come, or did you just chase them all away?"

His eyes flicked up to her again for a second, then returned to the book in his hand. "There were no clients whose case we'll be taking."

Hmph. Just as she'd thought. "You did drive them away," she said accusingly, jabbing a finger in his direction.

"The last time I checked, I make judgments about your work decisions, not the other way around."

"Did you at least hear them out?"

"I heard enough."

"'Enough,' by whose standards?" She threw her hands up in exasperation.

"Not yours, thank goodness, or this office would be a mess."

She threw him a nasty look and muttered something under her breath, which included something like stuck-up and tyrant before returning to the cataloguing she hadn't finished yesterday.

There was still half a box of books that had yet to be recorded, and she pulled out the one on the top of pile, squinting at the title. Something in English. She flipped it open and skimmed its contents. As expected, it was completely impossible to understand, but she recognized the format, at least.

"Naru, this one should be marked 'Thesis,' right?" Mai held up the book, and he looked up.

"Not bad. Even a monkey can learn new tricks, it seems."

She stuck her nose up in the air indignantly, but decided not to contest this one. It was a compliment, after all… Sort of.

As she jotted down the title onto the notecard in her hand, she glanced up again. Naru really did look different in a blue shirt—much less forbidding. The thought that he looked almost like Gene crossed her mind for a brief moment, but although that was true, it also couldn't be farther from the truth.

When Gene smiled, the warmth reached every corner of his face. He looked perfectly relaxed, perfectly kind—brilliant, like sunlight. Naru had said that nobody could tell them apart when they were both expressionless, but she thought that wasn't strictly true; Gene had a warmth that reached the depths of his eyes, even when he looked worried or tense. Not, she reflected, that she could claim to be any sort of expert on Gene, however much she wished that weren't the case.

Naru was a completely different matter, though. She had decided that the most accurate description of him would be "made of ice," with that constantly indifferent expression. Even his rare, genuine smiles felt somewhat reserved and didn't reach all of his face, almost as if he didn't really know what to do with himself. When he was upset or angry, his expression would be ice-cold, every muscle on his face taut, and it would be impossible to tell what he was thinking.

Still, it wasn't like he really was expressionless, she mused. For the most part, his feelings were written clearly on his face, if you knew where to look. The slightest upward twitch of the corner of his mouth when he was amused, or tiniest knit in his eyebrows when he was worried. He tapped his fingers when he was deep in thought, and he bit his lip when he was distracted.

Even now, she could read the skepticism in the lift of his brow as he pored over the book in his hand, she thought, tapping the edge of her pen against her lip as she studied his face. At the mention of books, though, she remembered what she was supposed to be doing and hastily picked up the next one in the stack. This one was in Japanese, thank goodness.

By the time she cleared through the rest of the box, Naru had retreated to his own office, and the room was empty. There weren't any missed calls, and it was too late for any clients to be likely to show up. She fished her keychain out of her pocket and headed for the postbox.

At first, she thought it must be a mistake. No matter how she jammed her key into the keyhole, it wouldn't go in all the way.

Was it the wrong key?

She inspected the whole mess of keys on the ring, flipping through each one with a tiny clink, clink each time. She even tried a few of them for good measure, but as the possibilities began to dwindle, the truth dawned on her.

He must have changed the lock.

Why? She asked furiously.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed, and I would love to get feedback.

A brief note about my use of honorifics and addresses: I'm focusing on a natural adaptation to English conventions, rather than perfect translation accuracy, so I'm more or less going with personal preference as far as what I'm keeping as a literal translation. I've opted to drop informal honorifics like "-chan" and "-kun." I'm keeping "-san" merely because using "Mr." and "Ms." etc. feel rather clunky to me.