I had to check my rating before posting this chapter. Swear words and acknowledgment that sometimes humans engage in intercourse ahead. LOL

Chapter 5

Mai was still irritated at Ayako the next day. Not annoyed at anything she had said, but that she had said anything at all. Ayako had ruined her perfectly good mood and nothing had seemed to quite bring it back again. Even when she read Naru's email again that evening, she couldn't quite muster up the same giddiness and joy she'd felt the day before. It was now the next morning, she was at work, and she felt the complete opposite as she had the day before. Now she felt like nothing could lift her spirits.

Mai groaned to herself as her desktop printer stopped printing in the middle of a multi-paged document, out of paper. Again. And the worst part was that now she had butterflies in her stomach again when she thought about Gene. Thinking about seeing him again made her heart pound in nervous anticipation. She'd completely forgotten about him and his smile for 24 hours, but now he was back on the forefront of her mind and refused to let her fully concentrate on her job.

Him and his ex-girlfriend. His ex-girlfriend trying to reach a property settlement with him, threatening to take him to court. Him being a client to her boss. And they would have their first meeting in about—Mai looked at the clock—fifteen minutes.

From what Ayako had said about her Beautiful Prince boss, it had not been a pretty break up. From Mai's previous experience with family law, Ayako probably didn't know the half of it. Any half-overheard heated conversations or bad moods at work brought about by personal stress were always ten times worse once were revealed in their entirety. She'd known this—well, not the fact that he was Ayako's boss—but she'd known the circumstances which had brought him to her firm in the first place were not going to be pleasant ones. The probability for amicable family law matters were pretty slim, and Gene had admitted from the get go that they weren't.

And yet she'd still gone out for coffee with him. Allowed herself to feel flattered when he looked at her like that, smiled at her like that.

The worst part was the guilty feeling that she was somehow being untrue to Naru. She didn't really understand this: Gene might make her heart pound with anxiety, but Mai hadn't really thought of him in a romantic sense since she'd met him, even though Keiko and Ayako seemed to think it was a good idea. And even though Naru had never said anything, never made any suggestion to show he felt the same, she herself had feelings for him. So how could she cast that aside as if it meant nothing and allow herself to get nervous with a new client's smile? Especially when Naru was coming to Japan in a few weeks?

He obviously only thinks of you as a friend, the small and altogether too-smug voice of her own doubts said to her. Just when has he ever indicated he could think of you as more? He shares his work with you but has he ever shared his own picture? Even if he did feel the same way, how could you actually date? How could you even be together?

Ayako was right. Even if he did return her feelings, he didn't have any plans to move to Japan. How could he leave his work there that was obviously so important to him? And she certainly couldn't just up and go to England. It was doomed even before it started.

Mai sighed and began to reload her printer, shoving the tray back into the printer with a little more force than necessary. The printer sprang back to life and her desk phone rang, the light lighting up with her boss's name.

"Did you want to see me about anything before I take my 10:00?"

"I'll be right there," Mai said, setting down the phone. Rising to her feet, she stretched her arms and waited for the printer before collecting the papers and tapping them together. Picking up a small armful of files she headed down the hall toward her boss's office door, which was open. She couldn't see the reception area from this part of the hall and she couldn't help but wonder if Gill had called her only when he got the call from reception that his appointment—being Gene—was waiting for him.

"It looks like a lot," Gill apologised when she entered his office, gesturing toward the towering pile of files he had on his desk. "But it's just tidy up—a couple invoices to go out, a couple short follow up letters."

Mai nodded weakly and passed him what she had brought down, Gill picking up his pen and signing the letters she had drafted and left on top of her files. "The rest of these were letters that went out yesterday afternoon," she said, gesturing toward the bottom stack. "Should any of these stay out or can they just go back into the cabinet?"

"Mm," Gill nodded absently, glancing at the files. "Oh—I'll keep Nguyen, I need to do another letter to the other side." He pulled the file out, then paused, considering the rest before taking another. "Just these. Thanks." Mai nodded and took the rest, carrying them to the filing cabinet.

"Do you need a hand carrying that?" He asked as she picked up the stack of new work on the desk.

"It's alright, it's not too much," Mai managed a grin as she lifted it. The stack of files was nearly as tall as her torso—nearly—but Mai prided herself on her upper body strength and always refused his requests to help her carry the work down the hall, and he never persisted.

"Thank you," he called after her as she headed down the hall again, staggering slightly under the weight of the files in her arms.

She was halfway back to her own office when Gene rounded the corner in front of her, his eyes lighting up immediately as he saw her and then hurrying toward her with arms outstretched.

"Hey—here, let me help you," he said, taking some of her load before she could even protest.

"Oh—it's okay, I'm fine," she tried, but he had already taken some of the files, a lightness rushing through her arms at the relief of the burden. He had obviously been going down the hall on his way to Gill's office, who must have called Pat at reception to send him down as soon as she'd left.

"Let me help you," he repeated with a smile. "Where's your office?"

"It's—um, it's just here," she said, turning the corner left instead of right from whence he'd came. The door was ajar and she pushed it open with her foot, dropping the files onto the chair which served as her overflow and only ever held files, rather than ever being used as a chair. She turned back to Gene and took the files from his arms, feeling a blush on her cheeks at their proximity.

"Sorry to trouble you," she said, embarrassed. "I've been rude. How are you today, anyway?"

He shrugged slightly, hands finding their way into his pockets. "I'm—fine, I suppose. Considering."

She nodded awkwardly, suddenly at a loss of what to say. She was usually so good at dealing with clients. Why was she tongue-tied now?

"Well, I'd better go." He straightened and smiled, but this smile was different from what she'd seen before. He seemed tired, she realised—exhausted. Worn down and sad. But still smiling at her, an honest, genuine smile. She tried to smile back, but her chest felt tight and suffocating. It took a moment for her to realise this feeling was worry.

"Thanks again for your help."

"It was no trouble, no trouble at all," he assured her.

"I—" she started, and hesitated. He was waiting expectantly, probably hoping she would finish up so he could get on to his appointment, so she swallowed and took a deep breath. "I'm not just saying this because he's my boss, but Gill is—really good at this. I'm sure you're feeling a lot of stress, but you can trust Gill." She took a deep breath again, her voice wavering a little bit. "And you can trust me. We'll do everything we can."

His shoulders relaxed as he gazed at her, wordlessly, and Mai was transfixed in his gaze. Then he smiled again, this time much broader than before. "Thanks. That means a lot, actually."

"I really mean it."

He chuckled softly. "I'm sure you do. I'd better go, though, for real. See you later, Mai." And with that he turned and left the room, the door falling shut behind him.

Mai turned and set the rest of the files on her desk, closing her eyes. Why was she so worried about him, and why did she say that? It wasn't her place to tell clients the firm would look after them; it was the solicitor's job to reassure and advise their clients. But this hadn't felt like giving her undertaking to a client. Even without so many words, this had felt like a personal promise, friend to friend. And Gene had taken it that way.

But most of all, why was her heart pounding over what should have been such a simple exchange?

…

Gill Thompson's office was spacious—at least twice the size of his own at SPR, but that wasn't really a surprise. Two chairs were set in front of the large wooden desk and a couple potted plants sat in the window. Gene couldn't help but feel a little jealous—but if he'd followed in his father's footsteps he might have also had an office with a window overlooking downtown Tokyo—or at least downtown London. But instead he'd followed in brother into this peculiar realm of parapsychology, falling into a vocation which had taken him years to realise that work could be a passion as well as a way to make a living.

"Eugene," the man greeted him, shaking his hand warmly with a firm grasp. "Good to meet you in person. I'm Gill Thompson, please, call me Gill. No need for formalities. First and foremost we want you to feel comfortable here." The tall man gestured toward the chairs. "Please, have a seat. Can we get you anything—would you like a cup of tea or coffee?"

"I'm fine, but thanks for asking."

Gill nodded and sat down. "I suppose we'd better get straight to business then. I understand you received a letter…?"

Gene retrieved it from his jacket pocket and unfolding the piece of paper, passed it to the lawyer. Gill took it and skimmed it over, frowning a little as he reached the bottom.

"First things first," the man said, setting the paper down and folding his hands in front of him, meeting Gene's gaze steadily. "I have to advise you what may be entailed in this process, how much time I may spend on your case and ultimately billing you." He passed him some papers, neatly stapled together and written in both Japanese and English. "As discussed, this initial consultation is offered to you at a reduced, set price, but going forward your appointments and my work will be charged at my hourly rate. At Jenkins Watkins & Bell, we charge for work done in increments of six minutes. Unlike other firms, we do not charge for administrative or secretarial hours—those are considered included and a part of my fee. This is all disclosed in detail in our costs agreement."

Gene nodded as he scanned the document, but couldn't help but think maybe SPR and BSPR should take this approach with their clients. Madoka and Noll both undercharged their clients, in his opinion, but he was only the assistant manager of SPR and his status at BSPR was a consultant at best.

"You don't need to sign it now—take it with you, have a read, and let me know if you have any questions." Gill said, indicating the agreement he held in his hand. "If you agree to this and formally engage our services, I will negotiate an out-of-court settlement with Ms Wright, a process which I would typically imagine to take two to four months. You must also understand it could be stretched out much longer, and generally the longer things are drawn out the more expensive it becomes for both parties. Obviously, I will do everything I can to expedite the process, and I would hope anything we would ask from you, you would also attend to in an appropriate manner so as to keep things moving."

Gill paused before continuing. "Of course, if an out-of-court settlement cannot be achieved, there will be further fees from our firm as well as court fees to be incurred. This would likely draw the process out to eighteen months at a very minimum, as there are delays through the court—hearing dates and processing times, etcetera etcetera. At that point you may also wish to engage a Senior Counsel from our London office to assist me with or to take over your case." The lawyer smiled, then, thinly and without mirth. "But let's hope things don't come to that."

"There are some other things you need to be aware of, which is now that she has a solicitor and should you engage me to act on your behalf, there should be no further contact between the two of you." Gill waved his hand slightly. "This may not be applicable in your circumstances, but say you suddenly you remember that Ms Wright has some of your personal belongings in her possession. Come to me first, as unfortunately I will have to request her agreement through her lawyer before you can retrieve them. Likewise, if she contacts you—about anything—it is in your best interests not to respond."

"We haven't had any contact since August. Well, before this," Gene said, tipping his head toward the letter which lay on the table.

Gill gave a short nod. "I won't beat around the bush about your situation. In our brief conversation the other day you said you weren't married, correct?"

"That's right."

"Japan doesn't recognise de facto relationships, which means they intend to use UK law as the basis of their argument—there's nothing else they could possibly do." The frown returned to Gill's face, but only for a moment before it disappeared again. "You said you'd broken up officially…when? August? And this was when you became aware she was involved in an affair?"

Gene nodded and Gill pursed his lips. "So they must dispute the date of the breakdown of the relationship. I can't see any other way to get around it. If they did progress things, it would look very poor on their part. This will sound terribly insensitive of me and I apologise, but I have to ask. Is there any way she could have broken up with you and you refused to acknowledge it?"

"I don't think so. It was never official until—that day," Gene said, hesitating a little. "Although she had mentioned a trial separation. Taking a break. That sort of thing. I don't remember her words exactly."

"Verbally?"

"We never talked about it. She left me a voicemail when I was at work. Actually, I think she sent me a text, too. I probably still have it on my phone."

"Good. We may need that." Gill leaned back slightly in his seat. "But I'm getting ahead of myself. This," he held up the letter from the desk, "is basically a formality. Once we confirm with Roberts Jones & Halloran that we are acting on your behalf—which I have drafted and will send as soon as you instruct me to do so—they will send a second letter setting out certain facts they believe to be the basis of their case and requesting a certain amount of financial disclosure from you. Her—or I should say, their—position is that the contributions in the relationship weren't equal and therefore she is entitled to certain compensation—some sort of split of the assets you accumulated together. What exactly they think that split should be, we'll just have to wait and see."

Gene shook his head in disbelief. "We didn't have any shared accounts."

"What about rent?"

Gene paused. "I moved in to her apartment, and while she'd asked me to contribute to costs I don't think it was fifty-fifty. I think she wanted to think of the place as 'hers', so she didn't even ask me to split it evenly."

Gill nodded. "Surely there were other things you contributed to the relationship, financial or otherwise…? It may sound inconsequential, but even domestic duties are taken into account in these matters."

"When we went out to eat I think I would pay most of the time, and when I was at home I did a lot of cooking. Annie… my ex," he corrected, somehow reluctant to call her by name, "hated cooking and household chores. I would do a lot of the tidying up and washing, take her clothes to the cleaners, that kind of thing."

"Ah, yes, you did mention you travel quite a lot in your line of work." Gill tapped his finger against chin, and stared out the window, a few moments longer than Gene was expecting. Probably still processing the fact that his client was a professional psychic, Gene thought, though whether that was a profession worthy of derision to this lawyer he had no idea.

"Do you know how your salary compares to hers?"

"Probably pretty similar. I might've been making a little more when we first started dating, but I know she got a raise a few times while we were together, moving up in her company."

"While your income has remained steady?" Gene nodded and Gill continued. "What about assets? Either of you have a car?"

Gene shook his head, and then swallowed. "I do think…" he didn't want to say it but forced himself to push forward. "I'm independent, but my family is probably considerably more wealthy than hers is. I don't know if that matters."

"Ah." Gill nodded thoughtfully. "You didn't come into any inheritances while you were together, or since?"

"What? No, not at all."

"And are you aware of your parents' estate planning? Any bequests you would expect should they pass away?"

Gene shook his head. "They've never.. said anything directly about their wills. I would imagine once they did pass, there would be some donations to some non-profits my mother is pretty active in. The rest would be split between myself and my brother."

"Your only sibling?"

"Yes."

"Younger? Older?"

A smile twitched at Gene's lips as he evaded the question, the way they always would. "Twins."

"Really?" Gill's eyes lit up. What was it about twins that enamoured people so much, Gene wondered. Everywhere he went, anyone he told, it was always the same response, that same awe and near-disbelief and sometimes even envy. It was as if everyone wanted to have their very own twin and Gene had been bestowed some great blessing of the universe to have one that he didn't truly appreciate, having never lived a life without a twin.

"Before we go any further, do you have any questions for me?" Gill had taken out a notepad and a small sound recorder sat next to his pen. "Because I'm afraid I will be asking you a lot of questions, and I would hate for yours to go unanswered."

"Not.. yet," Gene managed, and as he uttered the words it was as if he had only just fully realised what he had gotten himself into. No wonder Noll and Madoka and his mother were worried about him.

"And do I have your instructions to contact Robert Jones on your behalf?" No sooner than Gene had said yes, Gill had picked up his phone. "Mai—yes. Please send the letter to Robert Jones. Very good. Thank you."

Gill set down the phone and picked up his pen with one hand and the recorder in the other. "Now. Let's get started…"

…

It was close to the end of the work day when there was a tap on Mai's door and Gill pushed it open, carrying a file.

"Here's the Davis file," he said as he passed it to her, and took a step back to sit against one of her filing cabinets. He looked tired, and she didn't blame him—he'd accepted two walk-in appointments from clients that afternoon, something she knew he didn't like to do, especially when he'd set the time aside to do other work. She hadn't seen him since before Gene's appointment, with the exception of bringing in tea and coffee to one of his afternoon clients.

"I gave him the initial engagement letter during our appointment and he's emailed back the signed costs agreement. I've flagged it, if you don't mind just filing it in the system so I don't lose it down the track."

"Of course."

"You may have seen that Robert Jones already sent their response after you sent our letter this morning," Gill said with a sigh. "I called Eugene earlier and have drafted a reply, if you can type that up for me right away. It's still a bit messy—sorry—and needs a bit of work. I need to make sure I get just the right approach and lay out certain facts without exacerbating the problem."

Mai sensed he wasn't done talking so she waited. Gill sighed, then, taking off his thin rimmed glasses and rubbing his forehead with his hand. "There must be pressure from their client to commence proceedings, but they'll have to go after us under UK law. It's a bit unusual, considering the circumstances, but it ultimately means they can only take us to court as a last resort—which is a good thing for us."

Mai nodded. Although she hadn't really thought about it, she'd already come to the same conclusion, knowing that Japanese law couldn't be used against him as the two hadn't been married.

"Unfortunately it's Beck acting for her, she's always very aggressive." Gill continued. "I'd be a little less concerned if it was anyone else at Robert Jones, but Beck can be… well, you know. Unpredictable."

Mai grimaced, having also noted the signature on the bottom of the letter when Gene had shown it to her. Karina Beck was definitely not her favourite solicitor of all those she came across in her time working for the firm, and her legal secretary was definitely her least favourite of all the secretaries in the city as he was mean and rude when he had no reason to be.

"I wouldn't want to give them any leeway with anything, not even the chance to say we're holding things up…" Gill continued.

Mai knew what he was getting at. "I'll type it right now and have it done before the end of the day."

"Thank you. If you can do that I should be able to have a pretty good draft by morning. It would be good to get it out tomorrow." He smiled thinly. "Then we'll see what we're really up against."

Mai nodded and took a deep breath. She always hated to do this. "I know this is important too, but have you finished proofing the Ikeda documents? He's coming in tomorrow afternoon."

"Yes, yes, I'll have it done by then." But it was clear her boss wasn't thinking about Ikeda at all as he touched the end of his glasses to his chin. "Poor chap. He's quite a nice fellow. Too young to be dragged into our usual line of work. I'll need to dictate an email to him as well, but I told him it wouldn't go out until tomorrow morning." He straightened and slid the glasses back over his nose. "Anyway. I'll let you get to it, if you could just drop the file into my office on your way out tonight."

"Will do."

Mai opened the file and set it out on the desk as she pulled the headphones over her ears, fingers at the keyboard as she readied to transcribe the verbal notes Gill had taken before, during, and after the appointment. As she listened, and as the lawyer began to speak, she began to type, fingers flying over the keys.

She had been typing steadily for a few minutes when she suddenly stopped, colour draining from her face. Slowly, she began to type again, shaking her head back and forth.

How could any person be so cruel?

And how could she face Gene, at Ayako's party in three weeks or in any capacity outside of work when she now knew these things about him? Things she should never know about another person's private life?

…

As requested, on her way out of the office that evening Mai took the file to Gill's office. The door was open but the room was empty, so Mai left the file on his desk and put a sticky note on the letter draft highlighting the two questions she'd wanted to query.

Tuesday nights Mai attended a weekly aikido class at a dojo not far from her own neighbourhood, which she'd been attending diligently ever since she joined in her first year of university. Even then, it hadn't been new to her. Her father had been an aikido champion in high school and had both taken her to classes and practiced with her at home until his death. She had been ten years old and terribly stubborn, so even though her mother had tried to persuade her against it she'd dropped out immediately. She hadn't picked it up again until nearly a decade later, but the motions and movements had come back easily.

Now Mai enjoyed aikido and found it almost meditative, as she could turn her focus completely onto her body and the repetition of the movements and everything else retreated to the furthest reaches of her mind. She enjoyed the exercise and the rhythms, enjoyed making new friends at the dojo who were completely outside her normal social group, but avoided the hand-to-hand sparring that so many of the younger, usually male, students looked forward to with such anticipation. Despite the routine she'd developed, it had never felt like part of her own identity—more so she was holding on to someone else's, holding something back from slipping away into the distant past. She came to this realisation after the class had finished, as she remembered that when Gene had asked her about herself aikido hadn't even come to mind.

The second half of Mai's weekly Tuesday routine was going to the nearby public bath after her class, where she treated herself to a good scrub and a leisurely soak: a luxury as she did not have a bathtub in her small apartment.

She was putting her clothes away in the locker in the changing room when a figure came up to her with bright eyes and a huge grin, holding only a small towel over herself but not the least bit self-conscious. "Mai, it's been ages! How have you been?"

"Juuri, it's been a while!" It was perhaps strange that the public bathwas where she always ran into this particular acquaintance, but then again, perhaps not strange at all. Juuri lived in the next neighbourhood over with her parents and her family had been long-time customers of this public bath ever since it first opened its doors some fifty-odd years ago. Juuri was two years younger than her and was a grad school student at Todai. How had they actually struck up a conversation the first time? She couldn't remember. "I haven't seen you in a few weeks! You've been well?"

"Yeah, I know, I've been busy with class and haven't been able to come at the usual time." Juuri sighed dramatically as they made their way into the steamy shower room, hanging their towels up as they took pink plastic stools and sat down in front of two available showers, sitting away from the other women. They weren't the only women chatting, however, as there was a group of three who were laughing together loudly as well as a mother talking with her young daughter.

"I've actually been dying to tell you this, you'll never guess who I met!" Juuri said as soon as they turned the water on. She didn't wait a beat for Mai to reply, blurting out, "Masako Hara! Can you believe it?"

"Really?"

"Yeah, apparently my brother's friend works with her. Crazy I haven't found out until now. I guess the three of them went out together after they finished some sort of big assignment, and since they were close to the university my brother texted me to tell me to meet him there on my way home. And when I went to see him there she was!" Juuri sighed, lathering up her long hair with shampoo. "She is so much more beautiful in real life, Mai, you wouldn't believe."

Mai laughed. "So you finally met your celebrity crush! What was she like?"

Juuri sighed and shut off the water. "She's really… demure. Like, super feminine. And obviously I knew it would be, but her style is so gorgeous. I guess I wasn't thinking it would be when she was just out and about, but she looked like she'd stepped out of one of her magazine shoots. I hope I get to see her again. I wish my brother was into girls and he could bring her home."

"Sounds like you would like to take her home," Mai teased. "Here, I'll scrub your back."

"Oh—thanks." Juuri blushed. "Well, you know that's never going to happen." She drifted into silence, a pensive look settling over her features, so Mai changed the subject.

"How did your big project at the Institute go?"

"Yeah, really good! I must have finished a week or two ago. My advisor gave me really good feedback, and I met one of the curators of the museum who kind of hinted they might have a new position opening which I should apply for."

"That's amazing, Juuri."

"I guess so. Nothing's for sure yet of course. The new position hasn't been confirmed and I don't know if the timing would work out once it is, or if I could even be a finalist. I'm sure a lot of people would want it."

"How are the rest of your classes going? You must be really busy this time of year."

"Yeah, I've got another big report due before the New Year, so I've been working really hard."

"What's the topic?"

"It's about the transition from gold koban and ryo to yen during the Meiji restoration and the implications that had on the elite upper class purchasing luxury items, if that doesn't sound thrilling and enlightening." Juuri giggled. "Want to hear more about it?"

"I'm all ears." Mai grinned.

"I'm only kidding. I'm sure it's too boring and I wouldn't do that to you."

Now that they were both washed, they shut off the water and left the shower area to go to the bath. Mai sighed in contentment as she sank down into the hot water, feeling her entire body relax.

"You look like you've been stressed," Juuri observed, folding her small towel and placing it carefully on the top of her head. "Work treating you okay?"

"Yeah, it's okay," Mai said, closing her eyes. "Same old same old."

"That doesn't sound very good."

"Well, there's always something stressful. That's why I do aikido and come here once a week."

"I've told you my brother does yoga, right? He says it does wonders for his stress at work." Juuri laughed. "Though to be honest I think the only reason he signed up initially because he was interested in the instructor. Maybe I should try something like that." She sighed. "Once a week isn't enough though. I'd say you should come more often, isn't this just a ten minute walk from your place? But I'm one to talk. I haven't been in a month. We have a bath at home, but it isn't the same."

"Tell me about your report on koban and ryo. Seriously, I want to hear about it." Mai said, hoping to change the subject. It worked, and while it was obvious Juuri was trying not to bore her with the details, it was something she was excited about and so they chatted for a while about her graduate program before moving on to Juuri's part-time job over Christmas, working at the sake shop next door.

When they finally got out of the bath, pink skinned from the heat, Juuri's cheeks flushed an even brighter red with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I've just been talking about myself and I've hardly asked you how you've been."

"Don't be silly," Mai laughed as she towelled off and dressed. To be honest, she was grateful she hadn't had to talk about herself, that for once she didn't have to think about herself or her own problems. "I've got nothing interesting to say, and I like hearing about what you're up to."

After they had dried their hair, the two exited the changing room and walked out into the main waiting area.

"Oh, there's my brother. He must have finished first," Juuri said, lifting her hand toward a figure who was seated, reading on one of the benches.

"Have you met my brother before?" Juuri asked as they approached him. "Big bro, this is my friend, Taniyama Mai."

The young man rose to his feet. His hair, still damp from the bath, was a shade lighter than Juuri's and he wore thin rimmed glasses, but otherwise the two looked remarkably similar, even for siblings. He was a head taller than his younger sister, however, and from all Juuri had spoken about him he didn't quite fit the image in Mai's head. He was dressed conservatively with a collared shirt beneath his winter coat, which was contrasted with a pair of crocs on his feet.

"Yasuhara Osamu. No, I don't think we've met," he introduced himself and gave a short, polite bow. But he was giving her a quizzical look that gave Mai the impression Juuri had mentioned her name before but he couldn't remember if they actually had or hadn't met.

"Nice to meet you," Mai said, returning the bow.

"I'm going to get a juice before we go, do you want anything?" Juuri offered, gesturing toward the vending machines on the opposite end of the room.

"Get me one too," Osamu said. He turned back to Mai as his sister left. "So you're Juuri's bath buddy," he laughed. "She's told me she has a friend she always catches up with here. So you must be her."

"It's nice to finally meet you. Juuri talks a lot about you."

"Does she?" His eyes twinkled behind his glasses, and Mai couldn't tell if the tone was mocking or not. "So what do you do, Taniyama-san?"

"I'm a secretary, at a law firm."

"Is that so?" For some reason he seemed visibly relieved at her answer, but Mai, for the life of her, couldn't figure out why.

"What about you? I don't think Juuri's ever told me."

"I'm afraid I'm just a humble low-level clerk at the prefectural office." He made a sweeping motion with his hand, a pantomime of a bow. "However anything I can do for you in that capacity and I am at your service."

"Don't make any promises you can't keep," Juuri warned as she returned with the juice, tossing a bottle to her brother. "Here you go. Are you coming for dinner tonight?"

"Am I invited?" Osamu drawled.

She punched his shoulder lightly. "Don't say that. Of course you are."

"If you insist."

"Well, if you don't have other plans."

"And miss out on Mom's tonkatsu? I don't think so."

"It might be curry rice."

"It's Tuesday, isn't it? Mom is always predictable. Always tonkatsu on Tuesdays."

Mai couldn't help but smile as she watched the two siblings together and followed them out to the street. It hadn't only been pleasantries—Juuri truly did speak highly of her brother, and Mai was happy she was able to see the two together at last. It was obvious they were very close.

"Which way are you headed?" Osamu asked her as he zipped up his jacket.

"I'm headed this way," Mai jabbed a finger to the left, knowing it was the opposite for them.

"Not far, I hope?"

"No, it's close." Mai waved at Juuri as she turned. "Maybe I'll see you next week?"

"Definitely!"

"And keep me updated!" Mai winked.

"You're not still going on about Masako Hara, are you?" Osamu asked, wrinkling his nose. "She's not even that pretty. I mean, maybe pretty compared to you—"

"Bro!" Juuri cried, hitting his arm. "You are so mean!"

Mai couldn't help but laugh as she walked down the street, and for the first time all day some of the lightness returned to her heart. She sighed and looked up at the night sky, at the one star visible above the bright city lights. Mai smiled at the small twinkling pinpoint of light, and it winked back at her in return.

…

Gene gazed out the window as the train sped along through sleepy towns, trying to imagine the lives of the people inside the few houses which still had lights on at this hour, or who it was inside the few cars he saw driving along the narrow roads before they disappeared out of view. He'd once thought that the world was simply filled with normal people just like him, going about their business, and the thought had filled him with wonder and complete incomprehension. Then he realised the sentence was true but for the "just like him"—the world was filled with normal people going about their business. Somehow the statement lost some of its wonder when he excluded himself from the sum of the parts.

They'd had a slight change of plans and had the equipment ready to pick up by the courier much earlier than expected. Being ahead of schedule in this way was always a good thing, but it also meant he had to scramble to pack his own personal belongings so that he could make the evening overnight train to Oita. When Madoka had received the new ETA from the courier company, she'd asked him if he would be ready to catch the train and then pointed at the door without even waiting for an answer. He also had an inkling she was irritated with him as he'd refused to talk about his morning appointment, compounded with the fact he'd had to retreat into his office that afternoon to take a call from his lawyer, when Madoka had hoped he'd be able to go over the case with Chiaki.

Now it was past midnight and he was seated in the lounge area of the sleeper car, one of only a few people who hadn't retired to their cabins. While he knew he should try to get some sleep, he just wasn't tired. "Everything's just downhill from here", Madoka would always say on the first day of their cases, but it felt more true today than ever before. Despite the appointment, despite the afternoon phone call, he was still in denial. Even he could recognise this.

You're being ridiculous, his brother would say. It's obvious you can't run away from this problem, so why not face it head on? Well, that was probably less accurate. Noll was more likely to ridicule him over his desire to run away. But then again, Noll's behaviour the other day had come as a surprise, so maybe it wasn't that far off.

Bolstered by this imaginary encouragement, Gene leaned back in his seat and allowed himself to think, allowed his thoughts to wander past the blockade of his own making, and allowed himself to acknowledge the fact that things were, in fact, not very good. And that would be putting it mildly, to say the least.

Despite his situation, he did feel as though he were in good hands. He appreciated Gill's straightforwardness, the way he had explained the process from both sides of the spectrum, had laid out the situation as he saw it from the facts he had, and his courteous and professional manner as they went through the long list of questions he needed Gene to answer.

And even though it was bad timing—There never is a good time for these sorts of things, his brother reminded him—Gene did appreciate that Gill had called him as soon as he had received the letter from Annie's lawyer. He knew Gill was busy, was fully aware he had called him in a spare moment between clients that afternoon. But knowing there was someone capable he could trust quelled a lot of the uneasiness he felt.

The letter from Robert Jones was just as Gill had predicted: requesting certain records and disclosure from him as a way to prove his material worth. It also made certain claims that made Gene go red in the face and voice his protests. Allegations about his own behaviour, claims of impropriety and drunkenness and abuse.

Most of it was lies, but the worst part was that some of it was true. Taken out of context, but true. It had been a bad breakup and he was ashamed now of some of his immature behaviour during that summer. They'd had their share of shouting matches, and while he didn't remember anything he'd actually said he was sure he'd cursed her, in English and Japanese and French, which she always took as a personal affront, no matter what he said as she didn't parle français. But physical abuse? He'd never raised his hand against any living person, not even when the woman he'd thought he'd loved had turned his feelings into hate.

And the allegation of sexual misconduct? He'd never let his eyes or mind wander when they were together, and as far as their own relationship, Luella had drilled asking for consent into his adolescent brain so hard that he had still asked for permission to hug her, years into their relationship when most couples could just hold hands and embrace and know it was okay, let alone anything further. Saying that there had been times he'd forced himself on her, it made his blood boil in anger. It was just not true. He had always asked. Always asked if she wanted it. Always backed down when she said she didn't. And to now say all these things, to have her lawyer spin truths into lies so that they could use their breakup against him. As if he'd been the only one to behave poorly. As if she hadn't been fucking another man when he'd come home that night. If she'd truly broken up with him already, why hadn't she changed the locks?

It hurt. It hurt a lot.

Gill advised the first order of business would be to address certain matters in the letter first and set the record straight, prove that untrue allegations couldn't just be made off the cuff without rebuke. They would of course provide the information the lawyer requested without delay, but this was somewhat less urgent. Their client hasn't provided any disclosure despite their demands for the same of you, Gill said, but as a gesture of goodwill I recommend you compile your bank and credit card statements and forward copies of your pay checks from the last three months to me as soon as you can. They would then wait for her to put the initial offer to him. Depending on what she came back with would affect how they moved forward. He would be firm, Gill had assured him, but it was a fine line to balance to ensure he got the outcome Gene deserved without pressing so hard that the other lawyer would advise her client to take him to court.

Gene had asked outright if Gill thought Annie even had a chance if she were to take the matter further. Given what I know of the situation, no. Gill had said, solemnly and truthfully. Of course, there may be factors—something you don't even realise yet, of course, which could tip the scales in her favour. But as it stands, I don't think she has a chance in court. I think it's merely a threat. Saying that, knowing her bluff doesn't necessarily stop them from going forward.

So even if I refuse to—give her anything, or do anything at all—she would still take me to court?

Sadly, yes, Gill had replied. Because she knows it would be expensive enough that you would settle to get out of it. Hoping you would rather settle than fight her for it.

To which Gene had muttered aloud, this is so fucked up.

And Gill had laughed, though it was not in an unkind way. I'm very sorry to say that it is. But that's what I'm here for.

Gill must think him naïve, Gene thought, as the lawyer had simply smiled and shaken his head when Gene had offered to pay Annie some sum to ask her to drop the whole thing. That's not how it works, he had said. Maybe if it was just between the two of you, but what you would see as a gesture of goodwill would be seen by her lawyer as trying to take some easy way out. If you readily offer some amount of money—her lawyer will take that to mean you have some other asset you're trying to protect. They'll ask for more, they'll increase their demands. Gill had shaken his head. No, it's better to see what they propose and negotiate it down, even if you consider it a fair offer. Depending on how they put it to us, it's not always best to agree straightaway.

Gene closed his eyes, trying to relax the furrow he felt in his brow. Gill had asked him how patient Annie was, and didn't seem surprised to hear she was impatient, nodding as if this only confirmed something he had already known. No wonder Martin didn't touch family law, it seemed to be more about psychology before the actual laws. In some ways it was a game of attrition, seeing who would be the first to give in and trying to guess what the true motives of the other party were.

We can work that to our favour, Gill had said. And—while I understand this is an extremely unpleasant point for you—we can also work to our favour the fact she was cheating on you. Even if she insists your relationship had already broken down at the time, the fact is that she had never articulated this to you, no matter how strained the circumstances may have been. And you have emails and text messages from that time that prove you still thought you were in the relationship, and that she did nothing to refute this.

Gene opened his eyes and then allowed his thoughts to drift from his lawyer to his lawyer's secretary. Knowing she would be privy to everything that had happened in those months made a dull weight to settle in his chest. He didn't want her pity for how Annie had treated him and he certainly wasn't proud of some of his own behaviour during their breakup. He was ashamed to think Mai would know about all of it. I'm not like that, he wanted to explain. That wasn't me. After all, he'd never broken out of what he had considered a long-term commitment before. Why did she have to be Gill's secretary, of all things?

But that was ridiculous, after all. They'd only met because of all of this, because he'd received that stupid letter from Annie's lawyer and of course the first firm he thought to go to was the Tokyo office of the same firm his parents had used when trying to deal with the complicated will trusts his grandparents had left behind. While it was possible he would have met Mai eventually due to their mutual acquaintances, how many years had Ayako been offering her services as a part-time priestess to SPR, and how many other of her friends had he met in passing? If he hadn't met Mai after all this time, how long would it have taken?

Seeing his reflection, he sighed and despite it all, couldn't help but smile. Brow furrowed, lips drawn in a tight line, he had looked exactly like Noll. Well—almost.

I trust your instincts, the frowning, brow-furrowed Noll said inside his mind. I always have. What do your instincts tell you?

Honestly? Gene thought. My instincts tell me I'm in very deep shit.

a/n:

oh wow it's been a while. sorry about that. I have excuses but …. let's be real, nobody wants to hear about my personal failings. My own going ons are not nearly as dire as poor Gene's but I still somehow seem to think my life is falling apart at the seams. Nor am I able to rationalise this overreaction, even whilst imagining how much worse things could be. Hm. How peculiar. (And before you get too worried, Gene's situation is not that dire. After all he's in pretty good hands ;) )

I have a confession to make, which is that I enjoyed writing Gene's appointment with Gill the solicitor wayyyy too much. I hope it wasn't too dry and boring but I couldn't help myself (and it does kind of set out the basics for the legal side of this story, which is probably? possibly? necessary.) It's been eight months since I left my last job at a law firm. Is it weird that I miss it and the resulting family law dramas? (Probably, yes.) Anyway. When I come back and edit this chapter in a few months I'll probably try to pare it down a little bit.

You can thank Easter long weekend for me getting this chapter together. good job Australia with your public holidays :D (if only I lived in TAS I would have tomorrow off too but alas I do not T_T)

Apologies Noll didn't make an appearance in today's chapter ;_; I wanted to see him too, but the next scene I wanted to write with him just didn't quite line up. But hey, he was there in spirit ;)

Thank you so much to everyone seriously, everyone who has left a review on this story. You are all so fantastic and I probably missed sending you an individual thank you when I meant to but believe me when I say I treasure your feedback~~ merci beaucoup arigato~u

See you next time! All things going well it won't take as long as this chapter did. (I got my eye on you, Anzac Day)

~abbq