A/N: YES, I know. Another story? Wth, right? =.= My head is quite chaotic with all of these ideas that I just...need to release them. But I'm truthfully working on my other stories! Below are percentages of my progress:

Cloud 4=80% done

Dreams 4=90% done

Infinity 2 = 30% done

Reminiscence (REWRITING) ch 4=55 % done

So, this story is just something that came in between my writing of the others, and when it intruded, it wouldn't leave my mind. So, I'm releasing it. ^^

XDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXD~nya~

"Helloooo~~"

Seated in his whitewashed study, Kazuya Shibuya frowned at the black telephone. "What is it? You're disturbing me, Gene."

"Ehhh? What's that? You don't love me anymore? How cruel!"

"Goodbye then." Kazuya hovered his thumb over the switch hook.

"Ah wait, wait! I jest, alright? Sheesh!" Gene said hastily through the receiver.

He glared at the device. "Time isn't a luxury, so why are you wasting mine?"

"Aw, come on. I can't even speak and kid with you? You're too serious, you know?" He could see his older brother, with his black hair and dark eyes, pouting childishly.

Kazuya just sighed and, with his other hand, rotated his fountain pen over his fingers. "What is it then? Make haste. I have to attend the opening ceremony."

"You never attend opening ceremonies."

He shrugged. "This year's different."

"You shan't tell lies~"

"Whatever. I have a thesis to finish."

"Again? Your contribution is already outstanding. That's overkill, you know?"

"It's for the convention."

"That's still on December."

He scowled. His brother just wouldn't leave it. "Time is of the essence."

"It is, but you're using it too wisely that you fail at living by default."

"Don't be foolish." Kazuya stood up, felt a satisfaction of his stretching muscles, and heard the squeak of the wheels of his ebony swiveling chair as it glided backwards. Shifting the receiver to his right ear, he turned around and sat on the edge of his mahogany desk while he peered at the sky beyond the glass windows. A pigeon was pecking on the ledge outside, and it stared at him, as though it noticed his gaze, before bolting away.

"I'm just saying that you should fancy a respite too. You can't spend your life endlessly writing articles for JJP or JSPR━whatever journal there is. That is wasting time too, in a way, you know?"

He had a point...So Kazuya didn't reply, and there was a sough from the other end.

"Okay, okay. I get the silent treatment. So, how's Tokyo doing?"

"It's bleak."

It wasn't, really. The sun was out, and the sky was a bright blue. However, cumulo-nimbus clouds were lurking at the horizon.

"Be sure to have your umbrella ready then."

Kazuya glanced at the silver clock on the wall on his left. He still had to get the books he would use as references...

"I don't need to, Gene." He would bring one, of course. He knew it'll rain later.

"Well, what if you meet someone who needs it? There will be a thousand interesting possibilities after a small act of kindness to a girl━"

"Tell mother I'm doing fine," he interrupted and hung up. He could picture his sable-clad older brother blinking at a telephone in Cambridge and muttering tons of adjectives for him that Kazuya himself would probably hear the next time he picks up his phone━which would most likely be after two weeks or so.

He cast a fleeting look at his clock again. Thirty minutes before 1 o' clock...He would have fifteen minutes to eat, another fifteen to brush his teeth and dress up, another to drive to Komaba Campus, and another to do his mission in the library. Thereafter, exactly twenty-five minutes to walk to the classroom...

The lad spun around and ogled at the papers stacked on his spacious desktop. The green teapot was empty, and the contents of his teacup had gone cold...

So, he wended to the kitchen to brew some white tea and fix a quick meal.

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The Komaba library of Todai was a simple grayish and rectangular solid building. The columns on the porch were thin, almost like the toothpicks used on the diorama of it in the dean's office. Through the glass windows, he could see the counter, lounge, and computers.

Kazuya gazed at his sterling silver wristwatch and noted how much time he had left. Without greeting anyone and leaving his pitchy umbrella in a porcelain stand, he headed to the fourth floor. At his arrival, he readily traipsed the carpeted floor and slipped past yellowish brown bookshelves. The sun was streaming in and illuminated the room with its light. Only a few people had visited the library, and he was pleased at the quiet.

Actually, he was just nineteen. His onyx hair was long enough to have a shaggy yet neat look; it hid most of his forehead, framed his face until mid-ear, and stretched until a centimeter above the collar of his black blazer at the back. His pale face was smooth and unwrinkled. He had tucked his white buttoned-up shirt in sleek obsidian slacks and worn polished inky loafers, just like some high schoolers━though his blazer had no school emblem. He was as youthful as the bookworms already occupying the reading room on the very first day of the semester.

Finding the appropriate bookshelf, Kazuya turned a corner and stepped back reflexively. Before the rows of books was a perusing woman, apparently younger than him. She had brown eyes following the text on the tome on her hands and maroonish brown hair arching her back as she slouched, and she was past four tiers tall of the bookshelf.

Kazuya couldn't explain how he could recognize her when he could only see the left side of her face. She was different, entirely dissimilar with her knee-length carnation skirt and unbuttoned lime green cardigan over a lavender tank top. Rose patent wedges had never comforted her dainty feet, and her hair was never that waist-long...

The young genius shook his head. What was he thinking? How could he be so sure it was her? It was ridiculous of him, so he approached the spot beside her and observed her wince from the corner of his eye. He didn't peer at her any longer though and focused upon finding the books he needed so he could stride out of there.

"Um..."

Her voice was alike...but Kazuya stiffened his neck so he wouldn't whirl it to her. She's probably just murmuring to herself...

Where was the book he needed anyway? In strange desperation, he extended his arm on the shelf in front of her and leafed through the titles also, yet he still couldn't...

"Um, are you looking for this?"

It was involuntary; he just suddenly whipped around to her. She blushed at his stare and, remembering what she was saying, showed him the cover of the book she was poring over. It was dark blue and had large letters for the title...but he couldn't just comprehend the characters at that moment.

"Were you looking for this?"

It was the book he was searching, without doubt, but he couldn't seem to break away from her heart-shaped face, with her fringe parting slightly on her forehead as she tilted her head a bit. It was inexplicable...how his orbs couldn't avert at all.

"Um...?"

He shrugged, shaking off from his odd...frozenness, and took the book from her. "Yes...thank you."

Her doll lips spread into an angelic smile. "You're welcome."

And with that she traversed past him.

Something ran through Kazuya's spine. Excitement? Consternation? He couldn't conceive. The only thing dashing in his mind was that she was the same. The way she dressed was different. The way she held herself was different.

But her face was the same.

Dropping the tome on the floor, he spun around and ran to her retreating form. His hands outstretched, he clasped her right arm and stalled her on the top of the stairs.

"What are you━?" She regarded him with bewilderment.

"You're Mai?" he queried, and her eyes expanded.

"H-how did you know my name?"

For the very first time, Kazuya Shibuya's eyes widened too.

XDXDXDXDXDXDXD~nya~

A minute of shocked silence felt like centuries.

"Um...?" She shifted, and he released her hand briskly but gently.

"You were in my dreams..." he finally explained.

She was the girl invading his slumber for months now. She was the girl...he'd thought didn't exist. The first time she showed up, he labeled her as an opposing representation of him...his anima, another side of his personality coin.

It was like being in a theater during his repose. The two of them would solve paranormal cases that are possible in real life. There were others aiding them too: a monk, priest, priestess, medium, and a scholar...There was even Lin too, an onmyouji whom he was very sure was in England with Gene.

They were dreams so vivid that they felt real, but he knew they never met like that. He never had encounters with such people, and he was not in Japan to find Gene; his brother was alive and kicking in England.

As perplexed as he was, "Mai" blinked at him, and then she covered her mouth and looked sideways with a "Pfft!"

Kazuya Shibuya gave her a quizzical look. "Pfft?"

She gazed at him with bright eyes and said, "That is a very old-fashioned pick-up line, you know?"

Nonplussed, the young man stared at her. "I wasn't━"

She chuckled and crossed her arms over a book she'd probably chosen from another shelf. "It's alright. You might have mistaken me, right?"

He was spot-on. Her eyes were unsettled despite her beaming. She knew he wasn't mistaken. He knew she could feel his certainty...and she's afraid as to how he could've known her that much when they'd never met.

With a quick bow and a mirthful smile, she said, "See you then."

She then briskly started her descent.

But there his hand went to grab her again, and her doe eyes were as shocked as he was.

"Why are you━?"

"You're an orphan," he said expressionlessly and scanned her face closely. "Your father died before you could even see him, and your mother died while you were in junior high."

She nictated at him again. She opened and closed her mouth, but nothing came out. Before long, she squinted and widened her eyes and then narrowed them again.

And she glared.

"Excuse me, but my parents are very alive," she responded firmly, yanked her arm out of his grasp, and continued going down.

But the lad didn't give up as his hand held her arm again━which made her gasp and flinch. "You were born on the third of June, and you have friends named Michiru and Keiko."

She halted and goggled at him in astonishment. "H-how...did you know that?"

"In my dreams," he answered, and a peculiar sensation welled up inside him. Talking like that, there was something familiar...

She evulsed her arm again and looked at him as though he was nuts before leaving him swiftly and completely.

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When she darted (with her shoes clip-clopping into an unstoppable beat until it faded) away from him, he had stood on the stairway like someone frozen in random action━a hand outstretched, as though reaching for something-not-there━during a children's game. For one thing, he was new to that; girls usually ran to him, not away. On another note, they would swoon just at his mention of recognizing them, so not only did she divert from the norm, she also eluded from it.

When he had come to, however, Kazuya pondered that her reaction was natural and that he acted like a fraudulent fortune-teller, mumbling about what he knew about her in a questioning tone to confirm if he guessed right by her reaction thereafter. He felt like a lunatic lingering on the stairs, so he immediately trudged back up the fourth floor and tried as best as he could to shun the encounter of the eidolon-now-concrete in his mind.

But tried as he might, reality was as difficult to forget as a recurring fantasy.

Anyway, the thunderheads that isolated themselves on the horizon had drifted over the campus and started its weeping. Occasionally, the sun would peek out from the blind spots of the overcast, and the areas between the bookshelves would be irradiated.

After checking the time, he had reserved books instead for he had spent five minutes more in the library than he'd planned. Also, he couldn't risk sauntering the campus with the materials in the downpour, and he didn't need them right away. So, after making the arrangements with a sleepy librarian, he somewhat hurriedly descended three floors.

"H-how...did you know that?" her voice echoed in his mind.

Frowning, he took the umbrella from the porcelain stand near the exit. He was as puzzled at why she appeared in his dreams as she was at him for knowing things about her. Twenty...About twenty percent of what he knew from his dreams was true...

So why...? What kind of ability was that?

Fortunately, he was given another chance to find out: Her shivering back was facing him by the porch of the library. A gold messenger bag was slung over her right shoulder, which was slightly wet as well as some of her hair, skirt, and dirt-grained shoes. It seemed like she was caught by the shower a meter away from the library, and in panic, she returned to where stranded and non-umbrella-bringing folks agonized if they should just risk being absent for a lecture or care to arrive in time despite bedraggled clothes.

Unluckily for the unprepared, the rain would most likely not stop until dusk, and her sighs were apparent.

"...There will be a thousand interesting possibilities after a small act of kindness to a girl━"

His brother's advice couldn't be anything but precise at that instance.

Stepping beside her and looking ahead as though peering through the wall of flowing rain before them, he pushed open his umbrella and hovered it over his head. With precision, he locked his gaze with hers.

"What building?"

Biting her lip and reddening, she shrugged and shunted her head, and he'd surmised she wouldn't answer a rather fishy unknown person...

It was inexplicable...how he was like something pulled to a magnet that was her. He had only seen her in his dreams, but those dreams were numerous enough as though they were memories themselves. Dreams feigning to be memories...had made their interaction felt nostalgic.

A gust blew, and she drew back with a yelp as she was sprinkled with cold raindrops. Unawarely lifting a corner of his mouth, he poised the umbrella over her, and she nictated at him in confusion.

"W-why...?"

He shrugged. If he told her the same reason again, she would think he's crazy...Wait...When did he ever care about what other people think of him?

"My brother said I should help girls," he rationalized, and her eyelids fluttered in amusement.

Then, she covered her mouth, veered her head, and chortled once more, so he felt extremely silly then. There he was, approaching her so boldly, and he was making lame excuses his conversation with Gene had planted in him.

What was happening to him?

Her laughing finally stopped, she examined him, hesitantly grasped the handle of the umbrella (on the spot just above his grip), and took a step beside him while motioning it over the two of them.

Coyly, she answered, "Building 2...I'm going to be late, so..."

She gulped, and he nodded.

Once they stepped in the rain, everything seemed out-of-this-world: their sleeves brushing as they advanced, the sprinting people beside them, and the synchronization of their gait. It was too much...The déjà vu was too much...

And he just dreamt of her...

"How did you know it will rain?" she slowly spoke with an awkward smile. "Your umbrella was the only one in the stand..."

It was as though what transpired a while ago didn't matter as he looked obliquely at her and replied, "An airplane yesterday showed me."

"Um...huh?" She knitted her eyebrows, but her eyes were gleaming with interest.

He side-glanced at her. "When an airplane leaves trails and it doesn't disappear, the air is moist, and clouds will form."

"I see..."

He glimpsed at her through the corner of his eye. "Clouds form when water vapor condenses."

She pouted. "I know that."

He smirked and then retracted. He became cognizant that he'd just teased her...just like he did so often in his dreams...He had tested her intelligence...But...

She'd understood it quickly, so how could he call her an idiot in his dreams? Reality was quite contrary as always.

But not every time, and the lad was intrigued as to how much more of the information about her that he got from his dreams was true. It was probably that; it's his curiosity that was drawing him to her in an almost moth-to-a-flame fashion.

The pitter-patter of rain on the black umbrella drowned the slapping noises of their shoes on small puddles.

Fidgeting, she cast him a brief look. "You're...getting wet."

He shrugged and didn't look at her. "I'm fine."

His right sleeve would dry in the heated classroom anyway...

"A-about before..." She nipped her lower lip, quite an adorable━

Wait. Adorable?

He harrumphed and uttered, "You don't have to believe that. Forget it."

She blinked at him and looked away with a rosy tint on her cheeks. "You...seem to know a lot about me."

"...Yes." He just couldn't deny it still...

"But I haven't seen you before...yet..."

"It's like we've known each other for a long time?" he continued for her, and she shyly jounced her head.

"It's...weird..." She wrinkled her nose.

Anyway, he was weird. What were his dreams of her for? For an uncomfortable meeting like that? It was unintelligible.

Somehow suffering from a momentary aphasia, Kazuya was voiceless, and so was she. Her uneasiness had resurfaced, and he observed her avoidance to browse his face.

What would he do afterwards? Memorize her lecture room at the exact time and day? What goal was in it for him?

Just like her, Kazuya glommed the showering campus. The ginkgo trees lined both sides of the stone walkway. The fallen leaves were crunched under their shoes, and they created meager splashes as they ambled.

"Ack!"

Kazuya halted and gazed at his side, but he discovered that she was standing and bowing behind him. Ignoring the raindrops on her figure, she held up a part of her skirt's hem with a grimace.

He drew near her dutifully. "What's wrong?"

She was pursing her lips in annoyance but soon, looking up at him, flushed and averted her eyes. "It's my skirt; it's muddied...a little."

Louring while glaring at a speck of dirt on the hem, she muttered, "This is why I hate skirts."

"You do?" He raised an eyebrow. In his dreams, she usually wore one...not including school days however...high school days...

His dreams...were of a younger Mai...

"Yeah. I'm just forced to wear all this━" She gestured to her ensemble. "━for the opening ceremony and well...the whole day. It's my mother's skirt, and she'll freak out if there's even a dot of ink on it━"

"Run to class~~ You're going to be late~~" a child's━a boy's━voice rang out from her bag, and she pinkened and bowed. "That was my phone! I'm so sorry for holding you up! I'll go and run━"

"We're going the same way," he informed swiftly.

Data...He needed to gather data about her, right?

She bit her lip, and he could feel her anxiety. Sharing an umbrella with a stranger was one thing, but sharing an umbrella with a stranger who deemed to know more about you was most likely...creepy.

Kazuya tried to ignore that fact and glimpsed at his watch.

"There's still time left," he lied, sort of━well, there's still time left, but the time he planned to arrive at his next destination was already due three minutes ago.

"I'm sorry," she repeated and started walking with him once more. "I get distracted with little things..."

"Just like your change of mood," he commented, and she blinked at him.

"What do you mean?"

He studied her bemused face and diverted his eyes with another harrumph. How should he explain━?

"In my dreams, you're quite fickle," he blurted.

Mai gawked at him, went erubescent, and then giggled. "So I was really in your dreams?"

"...Yes."

Still crimson-cheeked, she shunted her head. "I don't know if I should believe you or not."

He arched his brow. "What do you think is the truth then?"

Was she a dream or reality? Was his dream a reality, or was reality a dream? Could either be a parallel universe?

He couldn't tell too...which "Mai" was real...The Mai in his dreams and the Mai in reality...They were both real to him...

Where would dream and reality collide? What was fake and genuine?

She nictated at him and appeared pensive. "Well...you look and sound so serious when you said it, so...you're quite persuasive...But for you to know things about me like a private eye or something...I feel stumped somehow. Are you investigating me?"

It was kind of her not to label him a stalker despite the qualifications he seemed to have...

He joggled his head, and she scowled. "I can't tell the truth at all."

He scrutinized the path ahead and curved his lips upward. Smiles on his countenance were infrequent, but when they grazed his comely features, they would be well-hidden...most often.

There was a sigh, and Kazuya noted the white building they were nearing upon. He wasn't a conversationalist, but there was an urge to speak more to her...learn more about her..."gather data and jot down empirical evidence" in his cerebral cortex. He never had the desire of befriending a human━of the opposite sex at that━since birth; interaction was not his key point, but he did it for social courtesy than human symbiosis. Therefore, the longing to...be closer to her was overwhelming...and novel to him.

What was happening to him? She was just a part of his dreams, that's all!

Her feet didn't stop padding towards the ivory building, and he found himself unable to desist too although his brain cells were scolding his motor cells...

"Thank you," her voice reverberated to his ears, and he jounced his head quietly. They were on the vestibule already...

She halted with him and waited for his response, but he couldn't think of anything to say, for the first time. So, simpering and flushing, she bowed. "I-I'll be going. Thank you again."

And she scrammed.

No "nice to meet you's" or exchange of complete names...He was a stranger, and she left his status in her life as that.

That was supposed to be fine for him. So what if he'd been dreaming of her? So what if he couldn't gather data about her any longer? It's not like it was a loss for him...yet why was there some opposition...?

Why...was he not contented with the status quo between them?

Mysteriously, his feet tailed her bonny form.

XDXDXDXD~nya~

What's with this guy? Why's he following me?

I hastened my steps along the stairs to the second floor, but I couldn't scamper.

Dang these wedges! Dang these heels!

If my mother hadn't threatened me into one, I would have been prancing to my classroom with my sneakers already.

The guy-who-suddenly-took-advantage-of-my-lack-of-an-u mbrella-to-accost-me was still at my tails even when I reached the silver-grey door of my classroom. I had been trying not to look his way to avoid speaking further, but it didn't daunt him that I wasn't paying any heed. Rather...it's like it fueled him.

Inwardly, I chastised, You're wrong, mother! Being girly doesn't only attract simple admirers, but also stalkers, molesters, kidnappers...

My imagination and reason were going wild.

I slid the door of my classroom, but it didn't budge...

Locked? Why now of all━?

Ack!

And he's beside me!

"It's not open yet?" his voice resonated, and I became scarlet.

What am I supposed to dooooooo? my inner voice was shrieking.

Amidst the chaos of my mind, I realized something and blinked. Then I perked up at him and feigned an alarmed expression.

"You're my classmate?"

He took me in and shrugged. He wasn't even embarrassed or anything. How shameless, right?

"No..." he finally replied, and my heart was leaping in joy.

Great! Halleluiah! The stalking must end, right? Yessssssss~~

I was smiling inwardly, and my eyes were probably showing my glee. Still, I pretended I was disappointed by looking down and jutting my lip, and hopefully, I showed a compelling crestfallen visage.

"Oh, I see. Well, then...I'll be going to the faculty room..." I lied.

And to my bewilderment, he took out a key from his pants' pocket, slipped it in the keyhole, and unlocked the door to my classroom...

Then he added belatedly, "I'm your professor."

I swore my eyes and mouth were never as broad as at that instance.

Oh Kami-sama, my professor's a stalker!

XDXDXDXDXDXDXD~nya~

A/N: Sorry, Naru...XD I just keep on giving you wicked roles hahahaaaa~~