Tutor

Chapter 3: Dating Normality

5.11.10

AN: I meant to update History of War this weekend, but sadly left the files at work, and thus couldn't work on them until today. But Tutor had less editing to be done, so it ended up being updated. History of War will be updated soon, but I really don't want to just pump out a chapter that I consider crappy just because I haven't updated in a while (is a month too long?). Anyway, never fear. Enjoy this chap of Tutor....which I have no idea how it will end, btw. For you PMers and reviewers who are so certain you know what's going to happen....muahahaha....

"And yes, while Naru is probably, and irritatingly, correct, that man is too smart for his own good. He needs to fall down a couple flights of stairs to kill all of those overpopulated brain cells he possesses."

The park seemed like a natural setting for a talk of this nature.

Friends and family picnicking, palpably sweet couples lounging in the distance under umbrellas feeding each other just as sickeningly sweet fruit – depressing rants about why people who resided in the tangible world of reality didn't mix with oft-hidden, and slightly off-kilter people of the supernatural world.

After all, who could say that they believed in the paranormal (and actually witnessed it on a recurring basis), but lived in a world where it such occurrences were obtusely ignored as certainly as the redheaded stepchild kept under the stairs.

An irritated tick at the corner of Masako's mouth hinted at the medium's normally well-disguised annoyance. Where there was no one to impress, Masako didn't feel the need to muster up the same care and precision she usually put on for the mass of ignorant people that surrounded her life like an unneeded apoplexy.

The rain that had hung over Tokyo for the past couple of weeks had finally moved on, but had left behind a sheen of thick humidity that settled on Mai's tongue like molasses, thick, tangy and desperately made her want to brush her teeth to rid herself of the fuzzy feeling.

Under the heat of the midday, Mai wiped a trailing bead of sweat off her forehead in a lazy arcing motion and flopped backwards onto the grass, grumbling unpleasantly about the natural order of the sun rising after the moon. Beside her, Masako sat on the ground, feet tucked carefully underneath, settled ever so neatly on top of a blue and red-checkered blanket. The only lack of decorum she permitted were the kicked-off slippers – and even then they had been carefully set upright and even, a quaint pair; whereas Mai had inadvertently lost track of hers when she had tussled around to get her jacket off lest she suffocate under the unexpected heat wave.

The park was busy which wasn't exactly conducive for having the kind of conversation Mai wanted to have with Masako. Talking personal relationships with several other people: kids, parents, couples, teenagers, etc., within hearing range of her embarrassment twisted her stomach into a nervous ball.

Giving up on any pretense, the medium slanted her eyes at her friend, and briskly said, "It's not like you to hedge around things so obviously. Come out and say it – what exactly do you want from me?" She flipped a stray piece of hair back in line. "I'm busy, you know. I can't exactly be making social calls whenever I want—not all of us have endless hours of free time to pursue our bosses for illicit office romances."

Her tone was cold, but in terms of Masako, it was barely a light jab of an insult instead of the normal gut-winding ones lined with venomous, yet well-disguised invectives. The modest barb let Mai know Masako didn't want her to think they were sinking into a friendly familiarity. They always liked to keep each other on their respective metaphorical toes, unwilling to let the other believe they had what passed for a masquerade for friendship. Masako had a professional image to upkeep and that meant stressing her inaccessibility—yet, here she was. Their illusion of animosity was shattered under the evidence that Masako had immediately (although reticently) agreed to meet her here when Mai had told her she needed the medium's opinion on something. That, alone, had piqued Masako's inherent nosiness, mutating it from the flickering, candle-like curiosity it normally was into an oxygen-fueled firestorm hungry to consume any piece of gossip carelessly tossed her way. Or maybe since Mai had asked her for help, it might have played to the medium's high-and-mighty sensibilities—or maybe she was simply a better friend than she let on or wanted anyone to know.

Masako liked her life. Simple, organized, impersonal and balanced. The center of her world being securely her. No room for other distractions. No room for competition. Which was another reason she hated how someone as narcissistic as Naru held an interest for her. And it was also why she despised his own interest (whether he was willing to entertain the idea or not) in his boring, inept and brutally normal assistant, who just so happened to have an aptitude for trouble and inspired all others to fall under her thumb like insolent children begging for their parents' favor if given enough time.

And it happened to everyone. Mai sucked them under like the natural undertow of waves.

She incessantly complained—about everything—except the things that really mattered. Mai played a trivial game with reality. The girl really had a twisted perception of reality if she couldn't even prioritize her grievances correctly.

She hated setting up cameras.

She despised checking temperatures.

Homework was abominable.

Rejecting boys was hurtful to her and stressful.

The short walk to the subway from school was full of thugs and tiring.

Masako could list off every complaint the girl had ever made. (After all, Masako was filing them away for later use as a way to degrade her.)

Yet the girl never once dug for sympathy when it came to her deceased parents. Or the fact that she supported herself without much income and every morning woke up to an empty home with no family to speak up. No family and Masako had never so much as heard a peep from the girl – ever. It was inspiring… and odd. But that wasn't saying much considering that it was Mai – the psychic wonder who couldn't decide if she wanted to be classified as a medium, or an astral traveler or whatever mixed-breed mongrel psychic she was these days. They'd most likely have to coin a new term for her. Masako hope it was something ugly. Something that didn't roll off the tongue well if it hadn't to be tacked onto the end of name as a title. Like Chimera.

Yeah, Masako liked that. Taniyama Mai, Chimera. It had a terrible ring to it, and Masako would happily gloat in the smaller battles won.

Mai didn't have a family to speak of, outside of S.P.R. and what a boast-worthy family that was… Masako leaned heavy on the sarcasm in that thought.

At the very least, she had her manager, and a personal assistant running around for her, and hounding her at every hour of the day. Despite her annoyance with them at their constant bombarding of her, it at least meant that someone cared. At least, someone was there.

The latent psychic complained about the little things so that others wouldn't think to ask about the more important things. Distraction, plain and simple. Waving the red flag at the bull. Ole.

So here Masako was on a blustering Saturday, just as Mai had wanted (so Mai, of course, got).

Grinning, Mai ran a finger over her chapped lips and fished for her chapstick. She was giving the medium a moment to vent her frustrations. She wasn't going to be the one to spoil Masako's game or her pretenses. Her heavily crafted image was a delicate – and dangerous – thing to mess with.

The scent of sun-warmed grass tickled her nostrils and Mai remembered that she had forgotten to take her allergy medicine. Great. She had a half-hour at most before she starting sneezing incessantly and became a sniffling, dripping ball of overactive mucus glands.

Glad to have an excuse to leave should the conversation turn ugly, Mai bolstered her resolve and set about the task of asking Hara Masako about the art of dating…normal people. The thought turned sour on her tongue before she could even begin to form a sentence. Asking Masako for help (of all people, Mai griped in her head) as something that didn't sit well with her. She was indebting herself to a professional blackmailer. It was an unwise move at the best of times.

A leaf spiraled a path in the air to fall onto Masako's lap. The medium hastily yet demurely brushed it off. Fixing her gaze on Mai, she huffed. "As I have no inkling what sort of idea crawled into that drafty mind of yours, I'm unable to even begin to dredge this conversation to a plausible point where you can then interject what you actually want to say without seeming over-imposing. One last chance, and if you're asking me to give up Naru—"

The mechanics of controlling her mouth seemed to slip Mai's mind. "What's the problem with dating normal people?" Mai blurted, sucking in a deep breath.

"Nothing," Masako responded.

Mai ran a dapper hand over the blanket. "That's not what Ayako told me you said."

Masako's lips tugged downward. "I hope this isn't a game of hearsay. If you're asking me to go about dating normal people just so you can sink your harlot claws further into Naru in my absence, you can think again—"

"Harlot?" Mai wheezed.

Masako glared, continuing. "—I'm not the type to be so easily distracted, Taniyama-san."

Mai shook her head, pushing off the ground to sit closer to Masako. The hot air around them felt dense, weighing heavier on the feeling of the viscous layer of humidity that clung to the back of her throat. Light filtered through the leaves, weaving abstract patterns of interwoven shadow and light across their laps.

It gave her something to look at while she searched her thinly-tied together thoughts for something to say, instead of a cesspool of poorly worded vitriol.

The skin between Mai's eyebrows puckered with her frown. "I meant for me. I want to date normal people. Well, more specifically one person," she said carefully, wringing her hands until they were red-spotted on her knuckles.

Masako's mouth parted slightly, her eyes wary and narrowed as she considered everything, unsure if Mai was serious about the matter or not. Her jaw snapped shut just as quickly, back straightening as she sat up properly and a terse look settled over her face.

"I see. So Ayako told you," Masako confirmed simply with a hint of malice embedded in the few words.

Mai nodded her head. "Only because she noticed that I'm interested in dating someone – someone different."

"They're normal. We're different," Masako clarified.

Mai nodded again, approvingly.

Masako looked away, seemingly watching the kids toss a Frisbee absently as she mulled some unknown thought over in her head. Expression unreadable, Masako turned back to Mai. A weight had settled somewhere at the center of Mai's chest and she recognized the flood of feelings as worry and nervousness.

Masako eyed her, scrutinizing her possible motives.

"You're giving up on Naru—"

Mai growled. "It isn't about him—"

"It's always about him," Masako eyes narrowed. "—but I'll play your game. Even if it's all semantics. Pray tell, Mai, who is it about?"

Mai shrank, drawing back from her forthright coworker. "You don't know him," she said sheepishly.

Masako's mouth pursed into a thin line. "Then you don't know your coworkers very well. The monk and miko do not have steel-trap minds nor mouths. Secrets spill out like of their heads like an overheated teakettle. They just can't wait to get out. Why do you think the two of them partnered this weekend and didn't actually tear each other apart? Not once. Not a peep. They obviously shared a common goal, or at least, a certain gossip."

Until then, Mai hadn't considered the possibility that Ayako had spilled the beans.

Or maybe she was more obvious and oblivious than she knew, or previously considered. Both weren't too much of a stretch.

Yasuhara had been absent from the case all weekend (Naru had said he wasn't needed, but had strangely called Ayako after saying the same to her only days earlier), but when Mai had stepped outside to call him (to tell him she wouldn't be making their café study session), Takigawa had been suspiciously inspecting the perimeter of the house for no seeming reason…picking flowers no less.

She sighed, defeated. "So you know about Yasuhara then," she said incredulously, hands turning over in a sympathetic gesture.

Masako's lips curled into a cat smile. "No… I didn't, but I do now," she said cheerfully. Her mood improved infinitely after that.

Gaping, Mai fought for words, her fists curling at her sides.

Masako put a delicate hand in front of her mouth as per normal and smiled prettily. Her eyebrow rose suggestively. "You, like your beloved guardians, also do not have the sharpest mind." Her smile infuriated Mai as an itch started burning in her hands – the distinct urge to strangle Masako.

Masako gave the barest of shrugs. Shaking her head, she explained, "—and your secret isn't much of a secret—more like an unfulfilled rumor. It just has yet to happen…or it hasn't happened as far as I'm aware of," she hinted like she wanted Mai to share a little more of the intimate details with her. None of which Mai had, but not wanting to give the medium the upper hand, she shrugged as if unwilling to share.

"You could have just played along a little while longer and I'm sure I would have told you," Mai said snidely.

Masako tilted her head, humoring her. "I could have, but I'm against abusing people who aren't up to my level of intelligence." The medium's mouth curled into another smile, breaking her steely façade. Mai snorted at the frivolous insult.

The atmosphere had shifted inexplicably. Mai felt strangely at ease and she could tell in the set of Masako's shoulders, arched back, but not tense, that she too was feeling much the same way. Comfortable, congenial. Immediately, the reason behind it became obvious. She and Masako had attempted civility: no fighting, no arguing, no nasty insults, only 'how's the weather been' kind of conversation; and all of it had failed miserably. Which had followed by the awkward silence of Mai trying to figure out how to broach the subject. The concept of civility and niceties was foreign between them. No wonder they'd both been so on edge. Being snippy and snide fit the two of them far more comfortably.

Settling back, Mai reached for some of the fruit she had brought with her, knowing she wouldn't be able to eat until a lot later that evening. Studying and stopping by work for a little overtime preempted food cravings this week.

Mai slid her eyes discreetly over to Masako. "So…Ayako said that you've dated…normal people before."

Masako rubbed the edge of her nose like she had a tickle. "Dated is a quaint term. It doesn't suit the kind of relationship I had with him."

"Who?" Mai asked curiously

Masako paused, considering. "A friend of my father's."

Mai balked. "Oh my god! How old was he?" She grimaced at the image of a wrinkled, hunched-over man fighting with a cane as he struggled to walk. Okay, it was a bit of an exaggeration, but Mai's mind, once given free reign, pushed her imagination to the limits of all sorts of outlandish possibilities. Mai put a hand over her mouth trying to hide the reaction mimicking the medium a little too well. "I didn't know you were into that."

"And what exactly is that?" Masako snapped. Scoffing, she shook her head. "He worked for my father! He wasn't that old. Only 24. That's far from ancient. At least, I haven't had the gall to attempt shacking up with an underage ghost," she said, scowling.

Mai's back set of edge, but steeling herself, ignored the jab, vowing to remember it for later. "And how old were you?"

Masako look surprised she hadn't taken the bait, but answered, "Sixteen."

"Sixteen!" Mai screeched.

Masako looked at Mai, exasperated. "It's not that uncommon. Stop looking at me like that. My father's the one who fixed us up," she said stiffly. She leaned back, making distance between them, looking affronted like Mai had insulted her. She looked into Mai's scandalized gaze. "It wasn't anything I didn't want. Besides, I've always been years ahead of my peers," she explained – feebly in Mai's opinion.

"It's not the age that bugs me!" Mai said hastily. "It's what you were doing at the time!"

Masako flushed, and narrowed her eyes. "We didn't do anything—but that was hardly the problem." She waved a hand as if that explained it.

Mai sat back, calmed a bit and turned away from Masako. "I was talking about how you were still doting off Naru," she turned back to her, and said, "you two-timer."

Masako blushed a deeper red. "I was doing nothing of the sort. Naru and I have always been entirely business-like—always professional with each other. That's the problem." Her voice lowered, sounding put out. "He's never carried any kind of interest in me outside of my use to him as a medium, and my father has wanted me married off for as long as I can remember." She paused, thinking about something hard. "He's starting to call me a Christmas cake," she said, offended.

Mai chuckled raucously. "You'd have to be at least…Ayako's age before you were called that." And Mai was incredibly thankful that the said miko wasn't here. She'd have smacked her upside the head for sure. "And it's a dated term, anyhow. My professor of cultural geography says that the smarter women get, the longer that generation on average waits to get married," Mai said expressly. "Though I'm not too sure if he was serious or he was just explaining away his mooch of a live-in daughter." She shrugged. "Either way, I think you're too smart to rush into something like that without giving it some serious thought. And I think we all have a lot more growing up to do. Twenty's not that old." Her eyes didn't hold the same sincerity, but her words were firm nonetheless.

Mai's simple yet passionate words reminded Masako of why everyone loved the girl so much. She was simply incorruptible and defended everyone from harmful feelings. She was their knight in shiny, yet oversized armor.

"Thank you." Masako's quiet voice was hard to hear with the sudden wind picking up. Masako brushed hair out of her face while Mai tied hers back. The air was a relief from the sweltering stick of humidity.

Remembering the real reason she was here, Mai shouldered Masako. "So what was the real problem? Besides his age," she said, smirking.

Masako's lips pursed as she tried to think of a way to carefully explain this so the sometimes thickheaded Mai wouldn't miss the point completely. "Have you tried…living…in both worlds? I mean really living in both. Not just the occasional ghost-hunting and escapade to a country-side manor with Naru that also could pass for a vacation. I'm talking about living with the constant buzz of spirits in your ear, and the pulse of reality under your thumb." Sighing, she shook her head. "Living in reality, it's not so easy. It's a balancing act not many can do."

"Ayako, Bou-san?" Mai suggested. "They have real jobs outside of S.P.R."

"Yes, perfect example." The medium's gaze snapped back to Mai's riveted one. "Look how normal those two are," she said a little scathingly.

Mai snorted, rolling her eyes. "They're so strange! Ayako juggles the long shifts of being a doctor and occasionally dabbles with being a miko. If she hadn't told us, I never would have guessed! And Bou-san dreams of being a rock star on the weekends when he can barely balance his checkbook." She laughed and bit her lip.

Masako stared at her meaningfully, and raised her eyebrows when Mai didn't seem to catch her point. The medium's teeth set on edge. "This is exactly what I was saying! Pay attention." Mai blinked, unsure of what she had missed exactly. Had Masako really made a point – or was she just being her normal snippy self?

"They are different from other people," Masako said firmly. Her hands tightened in her lap. "Have you ever seen them with friends outside of work? Going out on a weeknight to see a movie? Of course you haven't – because they don't have anyone else."

"Th – that's not true," Mai tried to protest.

Masako refuted her harshly. "They are outcasts! There's no denying it. They teeter complacently on the edges of society because they, just like the rest of us, can't just turn it off. Ask them. They may feign indifference, but deep down they detest the fact that people deny the supernatural's existence. The fact that everyone denies our existence. We live in a world where people don't believe we're real. It's hurtful because my ESP is very much a part of who I am. I am a medium," she declared with as much ferocity as she had ever heard Masako use before. "It defines a part of who I am. Half the people that watch my show may be avid fan's, true believers, but I never forget that the other half are watching because they think my show is laughable. And what's worse is the few rare times that I actually commune with a true spirit on my show, the accidents—is that the ghost can see it too. He exists in the realm of spirits and shadows and no one believes it. There is nothing more humbling than witnessing that. Watching the indefensible dead suffer at the hands of that which was once their very own world." Her tone was cutting. Mai felt warmth budding at the back of her eyes. "At least, I have the capability to speak with people. Spirits are locked in their own personal hell—alone. Forever." Masako, filled with more emotion than usual, swallowed roughly. "I think that's why Naru can identify with them so readily and it's also why I'll never understand why you always condemn his methods of trying to release the spirits."

Masako took a deep breath, flustered and riled up from her long-winded speech. "Others of us aren't so fortunate with the only the occasional vision, no matter how disturbing the nature of the vision is. And even then it only appears when you're bludgeoned over the head with the supernatural events when we go on cases. I'd venture to guess that if you were to quit being around all of us, your powers might become dormant again—and maybe you might actually live out a normal life." Masako took a sip of something from container—tea, maybe. "We can only hope."

Feeling guilty, Mai unclenched her hands from her jeans. Meekly, she said, "Naru says that's not the case. I mean, awhile back I asked him that same question after he had left those months after we found Gene. I told him how I hadn't dreamed peacefully during those months—like normal dreams even." She laughed nervously at sharing these personal events. "My sleep, while necessary when I was tired, weren't exactly…restful. He said my powers would eventually spiral out of control without an occasional outlet like the cases. Like that girl at my school." She shuddered at the thought.

"Like you'd be so narcissitic," Masako said frankly, though Mai doubted that she meant it as a compliment. "And yes, while Naru is probably, and irritatingly, correct, that man is too smart for his own good. He needs to fall down a couple flights of stairs to kill all of those overpopulated brain cells he possesses." Masako turned to the laughing Mai. "Don't tell him I said that…please," she added discreetly behind her raised hand and the material of her sleeve,

Mai smiled, silently agreeing. "But I have friends."

"Like I said. I think it's a shame that Ayako mentioned it to you. You aren't the same as the rest of us. You don't see ghosts haunting your step everywhere you go. It really doesn't apply to you," Masako said, jealously laden in her voice. "And besides you're…perky. You attract friends like sugar attracts flies." Mai didn't know if that was so much a compliment. "And your powers blossomed late, allowing you normalcy for the greater span of your life…others weren't so fortunate."

"Lucky," Mai snorted. "I can barely add a psychic two plus two together without Naru skinning me alive, but I'm lucky because I occasionally fall into people's dreams or out of my own body."

"You save lives – you saved mine!" Masako hissed. She straightened, sitting back after she'd leaned forward to emphasize her point. "You are the closest thing Naru had to a connection between his brother and himself. How you didn't use that to your advantage to move in on Naru baffles me. What a perfect opportunity. Utterly incredible." The wrinkled discontent on Masako's face smoothed. "But I suppose that's part of your charm. You're just so…good."

Mai frowned. "You would have used that to get closer to Naru?"

"Without hesitation," Masako said just as quickly. The thought settled ill with Mai. She couldn't stomach the thought of using such a gesture just to get closer to Naru. Undoubtedly, it might have worked, but Mai imagined that Naru would have resented her all the more because of the communication only she possessed with his deceased twin. Mai assumed, without fail, the plan would have backfired, and was glad the thought had never occurred to her before.

Mai half-smiled. "So I guess you're glad I'm going after Yasuhara."

Masako scowled. "Actually, I'm a little…confused. Yasuhara's a…strange choice. A good choice, but strange." She fought for the right words to ease the normally caustic ones that would have come out.

"Besides had it been me dreaming of Gene, instead of you, it wouldn't have mattered," Masako whispered forlornly.

"What didn't matter?" Mai, asked confused.

Masako's cold demeanor reemerged. "If you don't get it, then I'm not going to explain it," she snapped.

"Okay!" Mai held her hands up defensively. "So are you going to tell me what happened between you and this guy that didn't work out, or what?"

Masako eyed her coldly. "And I thought telling you that you'd get off scot-free in dating normal people would be enough to appease you. I just told you that with the way you're powers are that it wouldn't matter. As for what happened between him and me – that is none of your business."

Some things, Mai felt even she didn't have the courage to ask. And from Masako's tone, it didn't sound like she would get very much out of her anyway.

Masako brushed her hair back in frustration and Mai caught sight of the small bandage on the medium's forehead that covered a lump.

Mai gestured to the bandage. "I'm sorry about that."

Masako gave a rare smile and quickly let her hair fall back over her wound. "I'm rather surprised that I was the one to incur an injury this time." Masako slid her eyes over to Mai. "Normally, you take the brunt of the physical brutality and I guess I expected as much this time. I was complacent. In some way, I admit, you are indeed a crucial part of the team..." Mai glowed at the compliment, "…in that you draw attention of ghosts to keep the rest of us safe." Mai's approvingly look before quickly turned reproving. "I've never taken the opportunity, so before I forget to do so—Thank you, Taniyama-san for being such a valuable part of our team." The amusement in her eyes was hard to miss.

"For distracting the ghosts and getting hurt," Mai said sourly.

Masako smiled again. "For distracting the ghosts and making sure no one else gets hurt."

Mai scratched the back of her head. "Knowing that I didn't get hurt this time, I'm…"

"Disappointed? Shocked?" Masako supplied.

Mai frowned. "…I was going to say happy…"

Next Chapter: Three Years of Rejection

(Which had been pushed back due to Masako insisting she get some airtime.)