VI: Limpidity, Part 3 – With the shedding of light, they move forward.

Mai's eyes begin to water with happiness, anger, worry, but most of all, relief. He came back. He tries to get up, and she helps him sit upright. Sitting on the side of his bed and facing him, she asks, "How are you feeling?"

"As I usually do."

The nonchalance of his response, as if he had not almost completely synchronized with a lingering soul, as if his heart and respiratory system had not failed him, as if he had not just come out of coma, irks her tears away. This guy. "You're always so reckless," she huffs.

Oliver focuses on the blue-and-white pattern on the hospital curtain and the gradations of white, gray, brown, and orange of the robin on the windowsill. He reaches for the pillow behind him, noting its softness. He brushes his hand against the starchy white linen of his bed. Lastly, he listens to her voice and angry puffs.

He is back.

Wanting to be sure, wanting to hear more, he gives her a winning smile before saying, "It's one of my many talents."

"You!" She flicks his forehead. He glares. "You almost died!" She glares back.

"Nothing that hasn't happened before, I'm sure."

Mai sighs. Nine years. They have known each other for nine years, and yet he still does not understand. "You don't have to understand it, but you have to remember: no matter how many times you've defied death before, those who care for you will worry about you every time this happens. Remember that, at least."

Oliver studies her. He has managed to stop her from crying, and she seems to be at the end of her anger phase. She must be on the verge of cheering up again. He decides to expedite the transition. "Very well." And as expected, her face brightens with a smile. Now that he has regained his bearings and she has gone through her cycle of moods, he heads straight back to work. "What happened with the investigation?"

"It's over."

"In just a few hours?"

"'Few hours'? You've been out cold for days, you idiot." He smiles cynically, and Mai gets the message: 'Me, an idiot?' She laughs lightly. "What I mean is, you've been comatose for almost a week and we've all been very worried."

His expression returns to its customary blankness. "Tell me the details."

Her mood falters. "We determined the identity of the woman in the vision by searching for murder cases that occurred in the area up to ten years before the first recorded deaths in the house. There were no records of a death before then; presumably her family covered up the suicide to save face. We first found the woman's—Eleanor's—fiancé, Alexander. He stayed in prison for the rest of his life. He died twenty years ago, twelve years into his sentence.

"Eleanor's sister, Layla, must've been envious of the two's relationship and set out to take Alexander from her older sister. Despite this, he remained faithful to Eleanor. But she doesn't know that; she's blinded by the little gestures that Layla had showed her. That's how she lost her heart, mind, everything." She takes a deep breath.

"I cleansed her by relaying everything Alexander would've told her if she had just asked him. I corrected her belief that he had shifted his affections to her sister, and I made his choice clear to her, that she was the only one he loved. That was the source of her bitterness and motive for murdering all the couples that lived in the house. But they've all passed on safely.

"Anyway, I should call Martin and Luella so they know you're awake and all right." She moves to stand, but a hand grabs hers, keeping her in place. She turns to its owner in surprise.

"How do you know?"

"What a—?"

"He's been dead for twenty years, and his soul had not stayed with her; it's impossible for you to have asked him. How do you know?" He gazes intensely at her.

A tender smile softens her face.

"It's really easy, Naru. He wouldn't take the punishment for her crime if he didn't care for her freedom.

"He wouldn't willingly leave his life behind if he didn't love her.

"And he's been waiting all this time for her." Mai lets her words hang in the air, waiting patiently for their underlying meaning to finally reach him. In the meantime, she returns his gaze with a clear, sincere one. They stay that way for a few, long moments, hand in hand, eyes conversing in silence.

Then, he looks away.

Still, silence.

"—I have a terrible personality."

She laughs. "You think I haven't figured that out since we first met?"

"I can't comprehend your feelings all the time."

"I'll just make it so you do."

"I won't be able to touch you as much."

"Just like this is fine."

"…I'm not Gene."

"That was never an issue."

Oliver looks back at her. He stretches his free hand tentatively towards her. When she does not move away, he rests it lightly on her face. He feels her shiver beneath his touch. "I'm bad at recognizing my feelings."

"Don't worry. I'm great at understanding you."

He moves his other hand to her waist. Her breath hitches.

Is this really okay?

Am I allowed?

How much further?

He pauses for a split second as he wonders. But, as he is a reckless man, he sheds all hesitation, disregards all logic, ignores all caution against visions, and pulls her into an embrace. He nuzzles against her neck as he takes in her scent: vanilla, black tea, and one he could not name but must be something akin to home.

"Then listen well, Taniyama Mai, because I won't say it again." He utters the words in the language she would understand best, so there can be no room for mistakes. Not this time. Not anymore.

"I'll make you," Mai replies defiantly despite her breathlessness. She feels rather than sees him smile, and it infects her.

"I love you."

Her eyes fill with tears. Finally, he chooses her just as she chose him. Finally, their stories are on the same page. Finally, they walk the same path.

"I love you, too." Even through her tears she can see the rest of her future, falling into place right before her.

She cannot wait to take the first step.

Author's Notes: We've reached the last chapter of The Arbitrary Line! I must admit that I'm not good at writing heavy themes/drama/etc. without overdoing it, and I feel like I did just that in these last chapters, so I refrained from leaving notes. (Also because they were quite serious and I didn't want to ruin the mood.) I always feel like my writing is lacking, though I don't know what or where. That's why I tend to explain my fics in case they were too vague or too poorly written to be understood. Hence, this particular author's note. That's also why I greatly appreciate feedback. Special thanks to thearistocrat, sikaloolala, KawaiAkaHana, Cepheia, archangelBBQ, Ko-neko Yokai, Ghost loves japan 77, and anonymous reviewer Rose for kindly leaving reviews. Because of you, I learn more about the strengths and weaknesses of my writing. :)

Again, thank you so much for reading, faving, reviewing, following! :3

Disclaimer: I don't own Ghost Hunt or any of its characters.