#ghw2019

“What’s wrong?”

His daughter started and looked at him with fearful eyes. She couldn’t hold his gaze for long, though, and cast them to the ground, her lip quivering terribly.

“I’m sorry, D-Dad,” She hiccupped.  “I wanted to bake you something, but now—”

“Are you hurt?”

“No… But the cake is ruined.”

That gave Naru pause. “Why were you baking a cake?

Naru gestured to the kitchen table and Ellen sat without much fuss. He then took stock of the kitchen. Ellen had cleaned up most of her mess, though it looked like there were dishes soaking in the sink. The ‘cake’ though was burnt to a crisp.

He turned on the fan above the stove and went about opening the kitchen windows as he waited for his daughter to answer.

"It's… It’s your birthday.” He turned and saw her fiddling with the table cloth, a habit she picked up from her mother. “I know you don’t like gifts. But I… I still wanted to do something for you.”

A pain went through him at the realization. He looked to the wall calendar and, yes, it was September 19th. How had he lost track of time so much so that he’d forgotten what day it was?

No matter how much time had passed, his grief was always strongest on his and Gene’s birthday. His brother had always enjoyed celebrating. Whether it was just the two of them, or then the four of them, or a whole slew of people, Gene thrived on the excitement and theatrics that came with it. Naru wasn’t all that keen on most of it, but he still usually found himself enjoying the time with his brother, regardless.

Knowing what day it was, Naru wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep the rest of the day away. He was so exhausted already that he didn’t even have the energy to process his grief how he normally would, through self-reflection and writing a letter that he would never send and that his brother would never read.

But he couldn’t do either of those things.

“Now I’ve just ruined it,” Ellen said bitterly. It looked as though she was going to nearly tear the table cloth in her upset state.

Naru took a look at the cake. Now that he wasn’t fearful of his daughter’s well-being, he could see that the cake didn’t look nearly as bad as Ellen was making it out to be. It looked a little dry, and the sides were most certainly a little hard. But memories of his brother’s poor attempts at baking told Naru that the chocolate cake was by no means unsalvageable.

“Did you plan to frost the cake?"  Naru asked as he walked over to retrieve a bread knife.

Ellen shook her head. "I forgot to buy any.”

“Fortunately, your mother keeps us well stocked. Go get powdered sugar, vanilla, and butter from the pantry and milk from the refrigerator.”

Ellen looked up at her father, confused. “Why?”

“To make frosting.” Naru took out a cooling rack and placed it atop the baking dish. “And get milk and butter from the fridge as well.”

Ellen did as she was told, albeit with very visible confusion on her face. While she was scavenging for the necessary ingredients, Naru went about the task of cutting off the worst bits of the cake. It wouldn’t be a very pretty one, but he supposed that it would be fine for the two of them.

By the time that she returned, Naru had disposed of the worst of the cake and leveled it off as best he could. In that same time, Ellen had composed herself as well she could. Which he was grateful for. Because while his ability to comfort others had improved over the years, he still didn’t know what to do when someone was crying.

Ellen placed the ingredients on the counter. “What else do we need?”

“That’s it. Unless you’d prefer something besides vanilla. I’d have to consult a recipe for that, though.”

“Vanilla is fine…” Ellen watched attentively as he began mixing the ingredients with the mixer. “How do you know how to make frosting?”

“Your grandmother taught your uncle Gene and I when we were younger. Though, he always forgot to set a timer so he always burned whatever he was trying to bake.”

Ellen giggled.

Good. He hated when either of his girls were sad.

“Your grandmother and I always tried reminding him, but he’d always forget.” He sighed. “That left me to salvage whatever I could.”

“Do you miss him?”

Naru paused, staring at the frosting. He sighed and then nodded as he retrieved a frosting knife and went about the task of adding it to the cake. It was still a bit warm for his liking, it would most likely melt the frosting some, but hopefully that would help moisten the cake some as well.

A silence of sorts fell between them. He could tell that his daughter was trying to piece something together. She was just as easy to read as Mai was, though there were times when she adopted his mask. He was grateful that she didn’t do that too often, though, as it always worried him when she did.

“Did you want any toppings?”

Her look of concentration broke as she considered his question. “Do we have anything?”

Naru hummed as he went to the fridge. There was a package of cut strawberries from his mother. On top was a note reminding the two of them to not eat out so much. He retrieved it and handed it to Ellen.

“Put these on top however you like. I have to go get something.”

“Okay!”

Naru went to the entrance way and picked up the carry out that he’d dropped on the ground when he’d first entered the house. He shook his head at his own carelessness. Thankfully, after a quick inspection, he found the food to be alright. He locked the door and returned to the kitchen, food in hand.

Ellen raised an eyebrow at him.

“I left it at the front door.”

She laughed.

“It smelled like the house was burning down,” Naru grumbled as he set the plastic bag on the kitchen table.

“What’d you get?”

“Curry.”

Ellen’s face brightened. “Yay! Thanks, dad!”

“Of course.” He walked over to the cake and inspected it. The strawberries were a little unevenly placed around the top, but still looked carefully placed. “Looks nice. Let’s eat dinner first then we can see how it turned out.”

“Thanks.”

Dinner was mostly uneventful. They chatted a little bit about their days, but otherwise there was a comfortable silence that Naru welcomed with open arms. Before Ellen was born he’d have only found solace in silence with a book in his hands, but he’d begun to appreciate these small moments more and more as the years went by.

Once they were finished, Ellen pushed their disposable dishes aside and went to retrieve the cake from the counter. The frosting had held up surprisingly well. After setting it down he expected her to go and retrieve a candle or sing, but instead she just stood there, contemplative.

Over the years, most everyone gave him space on Gene and his birthday. Beside the gifts that everyone still felt obligated to give him, they didn’t ever plan any celebrations for him. They allowed him to retreat into himself and grieve the loss of his brother.

Except for Ellen.

No matter what either of them did to deter Ellen, she always attempted to force a small celebration, such as today’s, on him. When she was younger she would toddle behind him singing happy birthday. As she got older she mellowed out her attempts, but every year, without fail, she’d attempt to force him to celebrate. 

It usually hurt some, despite how adorable her sincere attempts to cheer her father up were. Normally, Mai would catch her halfway through and shush her or distract her with something else. Without her mother around to curtail her excitement, Naru was fully prepared to take the brunt of her excitement.

But, instead, she just stood there, looking at him.

It was obvious that she had something that she wanted to say, but was unsure of how to. A younger Naru might have lost his patience minutes ago, but he allowed his impatience to dissipate. Instead, he sat there, expectantly and waited for her to speak.

Eventually she took a deep breath and spoke.

“Do you hate celebrating your birthday because Uncle Gene isn’t around?”

Naru closed his eyes. He’d never said as such to anyone, but, considering her mother’s intuition, it didn’t exactly surprise him that she’d picked up on why the day upset him so much.

“Yes,” he said after quite a bit of time passed. He was sure that his face was pained, but he decided not to mask it. He was too tired for that right now. “It wasn’t supposed to ever be just my birthday.”

He opened his eyes and found Ellen looking at him, contemplative. After a few moments, she nodded and went to retrieve utensils and plates for the two of them. As she went about the task, Naru stood and made tea for the two of them.

As he waited for the kettle, he watched as she approached him. She was somewhat hesitant, but he could recognize Mai’s determination a mile away. 

“I don’t really know what it’s like to lose a brother. Or anyone really…” She trailed off for a moment and then continued on. “And, I never met him… But wouldn’t Uncle Gene want you to be happy?”

That gave Naru pause.

There was a part of him that wanted to immediately shoot her down. That, because she didn’t know anything about his pain, obviously she was wrong. That, because of his failures, what he deserved was to suffer.

That he didn’t deserve to be happy. 

But there was another part of him, a quieter part, that said she was right. That, he could grieve, but he shouldn’t torture himself in the process.

That of course Gene would want him to be happy.

Naru felt torn on which side to listen to. But as he stared at his daughter’s quickly deteriorating  face, there was only really once choice to make. If not for his own sake, but then for the sake of others.

He stepped forward and pulled his daughter into his arms and hugged her. It was awkward, as he was not nearly as well-versed in them as Mai was, but Ellen immediately returned the gesture.

“You’re right,” he said as he pulled away. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

He went about finishing the tea as Ellen retrieved a candle and lighter from another drawer. They bantered a bit about making sure that she didn’t actually burn down the house this time. But, otherwise the kitchen was mostly silent.

Once the tea was finally done, and Naru was seated at the table, Ellen lit the candle.

“Happy Birthday, Dad.”

She didn’t sing, but he took the invitation to blow the candle out all the same.

“What’d you wish for?”

Naru stared for a moment.

“Don’t tell me you forgot to make a wish!” She sighed and lit the candle once again. “You have to make a wish when you blow it out!”

He sighed and rolled his eyes, though he didn’t work too hard to cover up the small smirk that was worming its way onto his face. Of course she’d insist on such a superstitious act.

“Alright. Fine.”

He watched the flame on the candle dance for a few moments. He had most of what he could wish for, aside from Mai being away from home. But perhaps…

He blew out the candle and wished for the strength to accept the happy days that may come.

“What’d you wish for?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Isn’t it tradition to not say the wish aloud for fear that it won’t come true?”

A bright smile broke across Ellen’s face. “So you do know what you’re supposed to do. You were just being silly!”

He crossed his arms. “Of course I know about it.  Gene always made me make wishes. I just thought that I’d be able to get away without this time.”

Ellen rolled her eyes. “Well, if I have my way you’ll never get out of it.”

“And there’s your Mother’s stubbornness.”

“You’re stubborn, too! And don’t make fun of Mom when she’s not around to defend herself.”

He sighed. “Fine. But just wait until the moment your Mother is back." 

Ellen giggled as she cut out two pieces of cake. She set one in front of him and took her seat as well. Naru paused before taking a bite. It was a pretty good. A little dry still, but nothing a little tea couldn’t help.

"I love you, Ellen.”

His daughter paused to smile at him.

Noll knew what was happening. He had heard about this situation from Madoka before, witnessed Gene use it as an excuse to almost every girlfriend he had lost interest in. The time of onset at eight months into the relationship seemed to fit, too.

‘End of her honeymoon phase?’ Gene laughingly said through their mental link the last time he had woken up, completely unaffected by Noll’s death glare. ‘I can assure you, Noll, the real thing’s so much messier and more troublesome.’

Coming from someone who had the attention span of a goldfish when it came to relationships, Noll did not feel the least bit assured.

The hot summer days dragged on without any reprieve from his rotten mood. He soon started wondering if he could blast the whole world away.

His suspicion came to a head the day Mai returned from her leave. She acted so normal, so happy to be back.

And then she served him unfiltered Earl Grey tea.

Noll stared blankly at the cup, watching the floating tea leaves sink to the bottom. “Do you expect me to drink this, Mai?” he asked just as blankly.

“Yup,” Mai answered with an eager nod. “But before you start drinking, you have to think about what could happen in your immediate future, and keep thinking about it while you drink.”

He narrowed his eyes in distrust, but her eagerness did not waver even under his scrutiny. “What are you planning?”

“To read your tea.”

Tasseography?

“Why?”

“Because I learned it recently and wanted to try it.” She checked the cup’s temperature with the back of her hand before gently pushing it towards him. “Drink it while the temp is right. Leave a tablespoon’s worth, though.”

Noll considered glaring and shooting down her request, but he knew that that would not work on her. It never did. Nevertheless, he glared at her as he sipped the tea to express his displeasure, ignoring the uncomfortable sensation of loose leaves brushing against his lips.

While he knew enough about tasseography to disqualify it as an authentic demonstration of ESP, he decided to momentarily suspend his disbelief in favor of Mai. He reflected on the question she wanted him to ask.

His immediate future… Why would it interest her? Was there some event in his future that she wanted him to be aware of?

A breakup, for example?

If this was how she had planned to break up with him, she sure was putting too much effort into it. Noll would have to appreciate the painstaking way she chose to end things. He should make it easier for her, then, as courtesy.

He swallowed against the sudden bitterness of the Earl Grey.

In a few minutes, the cup of tea dwindled into a tablespoon of tea. Using his left hand, he swirled the teacup three times counter-clockwise before inverting it on the saucer. Then he rotated the cup three times again at Mai’s signal. As he turned it upright with the handle facing south, he surreptitiously rearranged some leaves into certain shapes.

Twisted figures, to denote disturbances. A deer, denoting quarrels or disputes. A raven, disappointment in love. Scissors, separation of lovers.

Four ominous symbols. Those should help her open the topic so they could get this over with quickly.

“Let’s see…” Mai said, pulling up a chair to sit across from him. She peered into the cup and concentrated on the figures formed by the leaves.

He unconsciously held his breath.

“I see an… uh… umbrella on the rim?” She pointed at one of the figures he had distorted with his PK. “You must be experiencing difficulty and annoyance recently.”

It appeared to him more like a mushroom than an umbrella, but he held his tongue. It was not like she was wrong with her interpretation.

“I also see… a ladder. And a line going west. There’s a ship, too, and… a bird?” She squinted. “A swallow. So I guess you’ll have a successful journey westward, and it’ll have a pleasant ending.”

Noll studied the scattered tea leaves in the cup. Aside from the symbols he had formed, he could barely see anything else. His brows furrowed. Was Mai looking at the same things as him?

“At the bottom… there’s an abbey, surrounded by squares. You’ll eventually be free from worry and find comfort and peace.”

None of the symbols she just mentioned were in his teacup. Now that he thought about it, she could not have possibly found time to memorize tasseography symbols and their meanings while preparing to write her thesis, much less learn to read tea leaves. Her swift, confident reading and interpretation could only mean that she had memorized this particular set of symbols beforehand, and that she had been merely pretending this whole time.

He regarded her with a cold glare. “Mai. Stop wasting my time and get straight to your point.”

Mai had the nerve to look sheepish. “Ehehe~ You got me,” she easily surrendered as she produced a white letter envelope from her jacket. She handed it to him.

It contained a flight ticket to London via Heathrow. His flight ticket. He met her gaze with wide-eyed confusion.

“I thought you needed a vacation,” she answered his unsaid question with a smile and explained further, “So I talked to your parents, Madoka-san, and Lin-san as soon as I was free. They were happy to arrange things. I also cleared up our schedules for that time period; I’ll take care of the office while you’re away.”

“What makes you think I needed it?” he finally managed to ask.

“Well…” Mai propped an elbow on the table, resting her chin on one hand. Her other hand held up a finger for each of her reasons: “I heard from Ayako and Masako that you’ve been unbearably grumpy for weeks now. Bou-san complained that you rejected seven promising cases consecutively. John told me he’s worried about your health because you barely step out of your office. Even Yasu volunteered to take care of you in my stead, though honestly he just wanted to stay in the office because your ‘colder treatment than usual added to the air-conditioning’.” She chuckled. “I figured the heat was getting to you.”

“You sure have a lot of free time, chatting with the others in the middle of data gathering,” he commented, his tone disapproving and acerbic.

“Of course not! But they kept calling even if I don’t answer. It was really bothersome!” She crinkled her nose, then smiled again. “But at least I got updates on you and the office.”

With this piece of information, Noll’s earlier suspicion was dispelled, and for once he willingly acknowledged that his brother had been right all along.

He released a long sigh, weary but relieved. If he had gone so low as to jump to an irrational conclusion, then the heat must really be affecting his mental processes. Maybe he did need to go home for a while, at least until it cooled down in Japan.

For him to accept the time off, though, he required one condition met.

He slid the envelope back to Mai to start bargaining for it. “I don’t need it.”

Her smile fell. “What do you mean you don’t? Haven’t you been in a constant bad mood lately?”

He shrugged. “I feel fine.”

“Just take a few weeks off, Naru,” she said as she slammed her hands on the table, her frustration visibly mounting.

He raised a brow. “And leave the office to you?”

“Yes! It’s not like you haven’t done it before!”

She was right, so he disregarded her reply.

“I’d rather keep working.”

“I won’t let you work yourself to exhaustion!”

He crossed his arms and scoffed at her words. “Well, what will you do, come with me to Cambridge just to make sure I’m taking a break?”

“If I have to!”

There it is.

Noll took the envelope. “It’s settled, then.”

“Wh-What?” Mai spluttered, thrown off by his abrupt turnaround.

“You said you’ll come with me to Cambridge.”

“Eh—You were serious?! I thought you were mocking me!”

He gave her a dull look. “Am I the type of person who took vacations?”

“N-No.”

“So do you think I’ll stop working just because someone told me to?”

“I guess not…” she agreed but still looked unsure.

“You look like you need the break more than I do, anyway.”

She scowled at him. “Hey, what do you mean by that?!”

“It means I want you to come with me.”

Noll watched, amused and secretly in awe, as Mai’s angry expression froze, morphed into open-mouthed surprise, and became flushed with a radiant smile.

“Okay,” she finally said.

He couldn’t help smiling back.

For the first and last time in his life, he believed what was foretold in his tea. Mai had read him well.

____

References:

- “Tea-Cup Reading, and the Art of Fortune-Telling by Tea Leaves” (2006) by A Highland Seer, found in the Project Gutenberg website.

- “Your Essential Guide to Tasseography, the Practice of Reading Tea Leaves” (2018), an article by Aliza Kelly Faragher, found in Allure’s website.

Ms Saito stood hurriedly from her chair and nodded again before leaving the room. Despite watching Ms Saito flee the room and swing the door shut, the noise sent a jolt through Mai’s body.

“Do… do you think she’s telling the truth?” Mai asked, if only to break the silence.

“There’s no way of knowing until we see the death certificates,” Naru answered curtly.

“I know but…” Mai clenched her hands by her sides. A trickle of unease traced down her back. “If Junko worked here, why would she go around killing the children? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Just because she worked at the orphanage doesn’t make her a saint.”

“Still…” It didn’t sit right with Mai.

“People change after death. You should know that by now.”

Mai pursed her lips tightly. “I know, I know, it’s just…” She didn’t know how to say it. She didn’t know how to explain how she felt, what this nagging feeling in her gut was.

Naru raised an eyebrow at her. A silent question, a silent command for her to continue.

“It doesn’t feel right,” Mai huffed.

Naru said nothing for a moment, looking straight at Mai. Straight into her eyes. It was as if he was trying to read her mind, as if he were trying to peer right through her. His gaze, however cool and calculating, seemed to bore a hole through her skull. Her face heated beneath his stare. It was dizzying.

“Is that your intuition?” Naru asked.

Mai nodded, finding it difficult to answer him with heat coursing through her body. Her cheeks burned and burned against her will and she was glad when Ms Saito returned with a small wooden chest nestled in her arms.

“They’re in here,” Ms Saito said, handing the box to Mai. “I… I hope you have everything you need. I need to return to my duties now.”

Naru stood and nodded. “Yes, thank you. We will let you know if we need anything.”

Ms Saito fled the room as swiftly as she had the first time. The door slammed behind her and Mai stared blankly at it before Naru entered her field of view. He stood close. Mai’s breath caught before her arms were suddenly freed of the weight of the wooden chest. And Naru was gone as quickly as he’d stolen Mai’s breath.

Mai mentally slapped herself. It was too early in an investigation for her emotions to be playing up. She had to focus. Mai steeled herself and took a seat with Naru and Lin as they poured over the stack of death certificates.

It was instantly sobering.

Kaede Hanada. Date of Death: 5th of July 2018. Age: 6 months. Cause of Death: SIDS.

Ichiro Fujikawa. Date of Death: 20th of February 2015. Age: 4 months. Cause of Death: SIDS.

Mayu Chiba. Date of Death: 1st of August 2011. Age: 3 weeks. Cause of Death: SIDS.

Izumi Hirota. Date of Death: 16th December 2009. Age: 2 months. Cause of Death: SIDS.

The list continued.

April 3rd 2005. September 18th 2000. January 28th 1998. Cause of death: SIDS. SIDS. SIDS. Unknown. Suffocation. Accidental drowning. SIDS.

1995. 1992. 1990. 1985.

It continued.

Age 3 days. 5 months. 12 weeks. 15 weeks.

1 day.

The names, the dates, the ages. They all blurred together.

Soon, Mai stopped listening. She didn’t want to hear any more.

She couldn’t contribute anything even when Naru finished reading out the list. Even when he and Lin began discussing it all. The causes of death were mostly SIDS. Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. Which meant there was no obvious cause of death. The further back in date they went the more the cause of death changed, but largely stayed on a similar track. Accidental, unpredictable deaths.

All aged under 1 year.

At the bottom of the stack was the oldest death certificate, dated 1959. A stillborn child. Unnamed.

The first of the victims, dated around the time of Junko Nakamura’s suicide.

They had dates. They had names. Now they needed to prove the existence of a spirit, which meant one thing. Masako Hara was coming.

-

Mai needed a cup of tea. Desperately. Not only because she needed an excuse to leave the stuffy room that would be their base of operations for the duration of the case, but also because it had become a ritual. It was one of the few things that stayed the same regardless of how different their cases were. It was calming. Familiar. It gave Mai something to do while her head was spinning with dates and names and causes of death.

Hopefully a nice hot cup of tea would settle the churning in her stomach.

Mai made her way to the kitchen as sounds of kids playing, of laughter and chatter, of a baby crying, reached her ears. Kids were playing in the yard, in the expansive grassed area behind the building. The innocent noises shouldn’t have bothered Mai the way they did. She kept seeing the papers in Naru’s hands. She kept hearing his voice saying name after name, date after date. Age after age.

They were so young.

Too young.

Mai’s eyes stung with tears. She sniffled and wiped them away before they formed, before she began to cry.

It was a relief when she reached the kitchen and began to make tea. She pushed every other thought away and focused on what she was doing. On boiling the water, preparing the tea leaves. Making Naru another perfect cup of tea.

And herself, of course. She wasn’t just doing this for him.

Mai blocked out the sounds children playing from her mind. She blocked out the crying. The insistent crying that drilled right into her brain. The crying of an infant that wanted to be held. The crying of an infant they didn’t have.