#ghw2020

“We’ll do a preliminary search this morning,” Lin said to the principal. If you ever give me the chance to do my job. “And we’ll leave cameras to officially start tomorrow.”

The principal seemed sated as he made his farewells. Or he just had actual duties to attend to at the school across the way.

Lin’s shiki had not alerted him to any other presences. The building shifted and moaned, but what did they expect when they had already torn down half of it?

Oliver had all but disappeared, with the clear goal of just losing Lin for the time being. The tension between them had no intention of easing. Oliver didn’t like the bodyguard stance Lin had taken, claiming Lin was in his way. The strain had heightened yesterday with a disagreement whether they should hire any outside help. Oliver was vehemently against it. And Lin was vehemently against being the office’s secretary. It was already bad enough.

The stairs creaked as he went up them, and Lin paused at the landing, listening, waiting for any footfalls to echo unnaturally. Once, in a definitely haunted house, the stairs had creaked each step after his own, as someone—or something—had followed him up. Nothing of that sort happened here.

Lin found Oliver in one of the classrooms on the second floor, drifting his fingers over an abandoned desk in the far corner. Oliver’s eyes were closed as he melded with any memories left on the old wood, smoothed down by many hands over the years.

“Anything?” Lin asked him.

Oliver shook his head. “Just normal things. Children talking. Learning. Leaving.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard. There’s clearly nothing here,” Lin said. “And you’re not a medium.”

Oliver leveled a look at him.

Maybe Lin could have phrased that better.

Oliver added, “There’s not a lot left to sift through. Unless I start going for the exterior walls.” He pressed a palm into the wall next to him for emphasis.

The wall yielded under the pressure.

A premonition of having to tell Luella that he had let her remaining son fall out of a two-story building was a bone-chilling concept, even for Lin. He dove for Oliver just as Oliver stumbled back into him.

Oliver pulled away and straightened up, dusting off his clothes. “Just structural failure,” he said. “Insect damage, most likely.”

“Let’s go. We’ll set up the equipment tomorrow.”

“No,” Oliver said. “We need to leave at least one camera.”

“There’s nothing here, you said as much yourself.”

“I want the evidence of such.”

Oliver watched Lin set up the camera in the front entryway. If he had any problems with the location, he didn’t voice it.

“We’ll walk the perimeter,” Oliver said, “Then we can go.”

The boy had no idea how obnoxious he sounded. Or worse, he did.

They rounded the last corner of the building in time to see a girl in a school uniform loitering by the front door. Maybe she was a ghost, but that seemed unlikely as she pulled open the door and slipped inside.

Lin bit back a curse as he hurried past Oliver to the still open door.

“Who’s there?” he said, voice echoing, startling the girl examining the camera. She lurched back, clearly having not anticipated someone showing up so soon.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I’ll leave now—”

The bookshelf she had bumped swayed and started to tip toward her.

“Help!” she gasped.

Lin found himself diving for the second time today, shoving her aside as he took the brunt of the bookshelf to his shoulder. He fell to the floor, and felt his ankle roll beneath him.

Oliver’s silhouette darkened the doorway. “What’s going on here?”

“I’m so sorry,” the girl started again, “I guess he startled me and it fell, it was an accident—”

“You’re bleeding,” Oliver said to Lin. “Can you stand?”

Lin’s hand touched the cut on his temple. He didn’t even know how that happened. “Yeah.”

“Here, let me help—” the girl started.

Lin cut her off. “No thanks. You’ve done enough.”

Oliver supported Lin—to the best of his shorter stature—and asked the girl where the nearest hospital was. The relaxed tone to Oliver’s voice was natural, not forced, and it only took Lin a moment as to why.

Oliver had successfully gotten Lin out of his way for the time being.

The next day, Lin asked Oliver to repeat what he had said.

“I hired her,” Oliver repeated. “Or blackmailed her, however you want to take it.”

“Why?”

“You wanted a secretary, correct? Isn’t that an acceptable reason?”

Lin could only glare from the bed of the hotel room. “You mean you intend on keeping her on after this case as well?”

Oliver paused. “That would depend on her performance during this case, of course.”

Ayako attributed her passing curiosity in him (after having never given a second though to her previous neighbors in that unit) to them keeping similar schedules. Ayako worked graveyard shifts at the hospital. She assumed she was the only person in her building sleeping until four in the afternoon, whose work day didn’t start until eleven-thirty at night. But then came Rocker Monk. Who was silent as a ghost all day, and only active at night. Between ten and eleven Ayako could always count on the shower kicking on, and then he was out the door…off to whatever his job was. After hearing him regularly practicing bass guitar, Ayako began the amusing idea that he was in a rock band.

He’s late tonight, Ayako thought as Rocker Monk began singing.

He wasn’t half bad and Ayako decided listen in while finishing the dishes left in her sink. Afterward, she found herself going to bed in a relatively good mood.

The next night, Ayako was back to slamming cabinets again. She was in a flustered mood, running behind. She had taken the world’s quickest shower, and with her hair still wet, she was attempting to cobble together a decent breakfast. She was about to work a double and she wanted something decent in her stomach. But the damn jam just wouldn’t open.

Cursing in frustration, Ayako was considering just chucking the thing…when she heard the shower turn on next door. She stared down at the offending jar in her hand.

What are men even good for?

Ayako gave it fifteen minutes. She busied herself blow drying her hair, touching up her makeup, throwing on her scrubs. Then, putting two pieces of bread in the toaster, she grabbed the jar of jam, and left her apartment.

A moment later, Ayako was standing in front of Rocker Monk’s door, knocking firmly. It took a good bit of knocking (clearly he didn’t have guests over often), but then the lock slid over and there stood a tall man in the doorway. Ayako took him in in a blink– his long blonde hair pulled back in a low ponytail, his broad shoulders, the black long sleeve v-neck sweater he was wearing– and then she was thrusting the jar of jam into his hands.

“Can you open this?”

As not to drop it, Rocker Monk accepted the jar, but was looking between it and her with an expression that was partly interested, partly confused.

“Do we…know each other?”

Ayako, arms crossed, impatiently nodded.

“Of course. You’re–” Ayako hesitated here, almost calling him by his nickname, “Bou…Bou-san. And I’m your neighbor who needs help opening this jar.”

Rocker Monk blinked at her, taking in her answer. Something like an impressed spark lit his eyes,

“Bou-san? What makes you call me that?”

“I heard you chanting.”

“Oh?”

“What happened? You run away from the temple?”

The monk was smiling by this time, a bit self consciously he rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Actually…yeah. I couldn’t make music there.”

“Ha, I knew it.”

“You could hear that too?”

“Sorry but, I’m running short on time. Can you open that thing or not?”

His attention returned to the jar in his hands, Bou-san gave the lid a deft twist and with a satisfying pop, it opened. The monk held it out to her.

“There you go.”

Ayako flashed a smile and took back the jam. With a wave she was already backing down the hall, towards her apartment.

“Thanks, neighbor.”

He waved back, and peering out of his door frame, he called back to her, “It’s Takigawa, Houshou.”

“Nice to meet you, Rocker Monk.”

Still smiling, Ayako closed her apartment door and set about making a reasonable breakfast, having just enough time to stuff toast in her mouth.

That’s what men are good for.

Weeks passed by. Ayako worked a blur of twelve and sixteen hours shifts. She listened in on countless songs sung by the monk in the shower. She swore he was even louder than before. On purpose. More often than not, she found herself wanting toast with jam on her days off. Visits next door became a somewhat regular thing.

Ayako learned that Rocker Monk– or as she now called him– Bou-san, was in fact in a band. A small indie one, that played mostly night gigs. He learned she was a nurse at a major hospital. She offered her services if he was ever choking to death. Or had a heart attack. She was well trained in the Heimlich Maneuver and CPR.

That spring Ayako was granted a much deserved vacation. After being lavishly lazy the first two days, she decided spring cleaning was in due order. On a bright Sunday morning she drug herself out of bed, threw open her blinds and windows and decided to rearrange her living room.

An hour later Ayako was sweating and cursing over her stubborn couch that just wouldn’t move. About to give the whole thing up– she had a dawning realization.

Exchanging the sweats she was cleaning in for a pair of jeans and a tank top, Ayako walked the familiar path to her neighbor’s door. Knowing it was hours before he would even be conscious, she hesitated in her plan, but then knocked anyways.

What are men even good for?

It took more pounding than usual, but eventually the monk answered the door. Ayako raised her eyebrows at the sight of the still half asleep man before her.

Hair loose at his shoulders, was wearing boxer shorts…and no shirt.

“Ah, crap. I thought it was an emergency–” he started to explain, attempting to cover his bare chest.

“It is an emergency. I need you to move my couch.”

Bou-san put on a shirt and the couch got moved.

That’s what men are good for.

The next day decided Ayako decided she wanted to move her bed. And then her computer desk. Rocker Monk got very little sleep the whole of Ayako’s vacation. But occasionally she fed him. They had dinner twice. Lunch once. Coffee several times.

After vacation Ayako gained the nickname Miko. Having been in her apartment, Bou-san noticed the number of plants that filled the space. He appreciated her green thumb and told her she reminded him of a shrine maiden. Ayako snorted at that, but the name stuck.

At the start of summer, Ayako was having trouble sleeping. It was incredibly muggy in Tokyo. On her night off, after tossing and turning for hours, Ayako stared at the ceiling in defeat. Sitting up in bed, she decided she would read, hoping that would make her tired enough to fall asleep. Reaching for her lamp, Ayako saw the clock read two in the morning.

Great.

Clicking the light on, Ayako reached for the book she had started six months ago– and then froze.

A spider. Hairy and the size of her hand, was crawling across the foot of her bed.

With a cry, Ayako jumped up– scrambling to stand at the top of her bed. Back pressed against the wall, Ayako’s mind raced, but every solution seemed to involve getting off the bed and facing indeterminate danger. She just couldn’t kill it.

And then, a flash of genius through her blind panic. A question that solved the problem.

What are men even good for?

Heart pounding, Ayako reached down, fumbling for her phone sitting on the nightstand nearest her. Her finger hit speed dial. Three rings later, a gruff voice answered.

“Wha– Ayako, what is–”

“Bou-san you have get over here right now there’s a huge spider it’s going to devour me and then you’ll have nobody to listen to you sing in the shower–”

It felt like a century, but Bou-san was over in an instant. Having exchanged keys a month ago (what if there was a medical emergency?), he came barreling into Ayako’s apartment, a broom in hand.

“Where?” he demanded as he entered the bedroom, waving the broom around.

“On my bed!”

But it wasn’t. In all of Ayako’s commotion, she had kicked her blankets off. The spider was no longer anywhere to be seen.

Ten minutes of turning on all the lights, sorting through all the blankets, doing a sweep of the whole apartment…and there was still, nothing.

“Those are nice,” Bou-san spoke, leaning against Ayako’s door frame where they had taken up post to watch for the spider.

“What’s nice? None of this is nice–”

“Your pajamas.”

Ayako tore her gaze away from the floor to glance down at herself. They were her lacy ones.

Oh well.

“Keep your eyes on the prize, monk. It’s almost three in morning, where the hell is this demon spider?”

“Wait, what’s that brown thing…?”

“What?!”

Ayako launched at Bou-san, and was clinging to him (practically climbing him…), before he could even finish his sentence, hitting him in the arm, demanding that he kill it.

But upon further inspection, there was nothing to kill. The brown thing turned out to be just one of Ayako’s slippers. Exhausted and flustered, Ayako finally released the monk, head in her hands.

“I’m just not going to sleep tonight. I’ll just call the office as soon as they open and have them bomb his place.”

Bou-san chewed at his lip, thoughtful.

“You have to sleep.”

Ayako sent him a sharp look,

“Not with that thing in here.”

“No…I don’t blame you there, but you could sleep…you know– at my place, if you wanted.”

There was a beat as Ayako’s foggy mind processed this offer.

“Sleep. At your apartment?”

“Yeah, like on my couch. I haven’t seen a spider for weeks, I think it’s probably safe.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure.”

That’s what men are good for.

Trading her apartment for his, Ayako did finally manage to get some sleep that night, comfortably tucked into the monk’s bed, while the monk (somehow) ended up on the couch.

The summer’s humidity brought mosquitoes. And mosquitoes brought Bou-san over several times a week. The monk teased her that her love of nature didn’t seem to embrace all of it and the little spirits of the bugs she was having him squash would haunt her. Ayako balked at this, but that was how they got started on the topic of the paranormal. Apparently they shared a mutual interest in it, and more than one night was spent with them exchanging chilling real life experiences.

Ayako didn’t want to admit it, but the more she got to know Bou-san, the longer her list of what men were even good for seemed to grow.

Cooking.

Like when Bou-san surprised her with a real breakfast after she slogged home from a particularly harsh double shift at the hospital.

That’s what men are good for.

Handy work.

Like when her washing machine broke and apartment maintenance said it was back ordered and would take a month to be installed. One YouTube tutorial later and Bou-san had it fixed.

That’s what men are good for.

Company.

Like when Bou-san stayed up with her all night, taking her mind off the head cold she caught, watching ridiculous horror films, and telling bad jokes.

Standing on her deck, the season’s first snowflakes falling through the dark, Ayako studied the monk beside her, and found she was a bit afraid that she had come to like her list a little too much. Especially the part she just added…

“I can’t believe it’s really snowing.”

“You’re cheeks are red. Pretty cold, huh?”

“Hm.”

“Want me to come a little closer, share some warmth? Oh look at that, it’s really coming down now.”

What are men even good for?

Love.

And she kissed him.

——

“What the hell?”

Mai slumped face down over her desk, clutching her head.  Her dream from this morning still hadn’t left her mind.

It wasn’t all that significant of a dream, really.  She probably would have forgotten about it if not for one detail.

Why was she dreaming about Naru?  Now of all times?

No, no, no.  She’d learned her lesson once.  She wouldn’t fool herself into thinking this might mean anything.  After all, it wasn’t as if he was being especially kind to her in the dream.  He was just being his usual aloof self.

But…was it really him?

Since he was playing with cards, she’d immediately assumed it was Naru.  But couldn’t it just as well be Gene? And the way he’d responded at the end…that definitely sounded more like a Gene thing to do.  If it were Naru, he would have just called her childish for being excited by sheep. He wouldn’t agree with her, let alone waste time watching the scenery with her.

So it must be Gene.

A thrill of excitement ran through her.  He’d come to visit her, even outside of a case?  But at the same time, she wasn’t convinced, precisely because of the fact they weren’t on a case (in fact, they had just finished one a few days ago).  Why would Gene appear to her now? It didn’t make sense.

Still, she hoped it was him.  What if Gene had figured out a way to stay awake even off of cases?  What could that possibly mean?

The door to Naru’s office opened then, and he stuck his head out.  “Mai. Tea.”

“Okaaay…” she sighed, and got up from her seat.  Seeing him act as usual made her ideas suddenly seem silly.

It was too soon to get her hopes up.  After all, it could have just been a dream.

  ——

And yet that night, just like clockwork, they were back on the train again.

Mai bounced in her seat.  This was it.  It was one of those dreams.  It had to be.

Gene sat across from her, engrossed in reading through a bundle of papers.

Mai smiled.  Leaning forward, she asked gently, “Gene…?  That’s you, right?”

He froze.  Then looked up with a smile.  A deeply cynical smile. “I’m sorry to disappoint.”

“Naru?!”  Mai drew back, mortified.  Oh god, no. She didn’t mean to confuse them again! 

The shock was enough to jolt her awake.  The next thing she knew, she was in bed, hiding her burning face beneath her hands.