Fic: Medium (for room101, from trensaddiction)
Title: Medium
Author: trensaddiction
Recipient: room101 ( requests)
Pairing: Akira, Hikaru
Warnings: AU, absolute absence of go.
Summary: Touya needs an answer that only a ghost can give him.
Notes: none
Suicide was selfish. Touya had believed that in the worst, emotion-wracked moments of his teenage years, and maturity had not changed his opinion. Sifting through the clutter left in Wada's office, Touya failed to feel the admiration-filled sorrow everyone seemed to expect. The man had been a good colleague, up until that final, disastrous deal, but the fact remained that in his absence, it was Touya who had to clean up the mess, and it was beginning to look like he'd need to learn divination to do it.
He leaned out the office door to call Wada's secretary over again. “You're sure he didn't leave anything with you? A key, perhaps?” It was hard to make the question sound polite on its fifth repetition, but Touya had a reputation to maintain.
“My deepest apologies, Touya-san. I'm sure he did not.” Wada's secretary was a competent woman in her mid-forties. She'd handled more than one young businessman in her time, and Touya's status as the CEO's son wasn't about to fluster her. Still, she was shrewd enough to realize just what a mess Wada had left them in and had done her best to be as helpful as she could all morning.
He nodded to her in acknowledgment. “Of course.”
She managed a smile for him before turning away to answer the phone.
There was no doubt the man had known how to choose a secretary, but looking back into Wada's office, Touya couldn't help feeling frustrated. If they didn't manage to locate and open the safety deposit box where Wada had stored Sakai's collateral, settling the client's account would be the least of their worries. Thirty-three million yen... how could the man have been so thoughtless? As Director of Finance, Touya could not begin to imagine. There were all sorts of operating procedures that should have been followed, designated accounts to be used, company-owned security lockers available-
“Touya-san?”
- and if for some reason he'd decided to forgo all of that, Wada should at least have left a memo. The man had two voice recorders and four fresh pads of post-its in his top desk drawer alone. Never mind a suicide note, if he were really regretting his actions vis a vis the company that much, he should at least have left something-
“Touya-san?”
The change in her tone finally penetrated, interrupting his mental rant. “Yes, Ueda-san?”
“The building manager just called,” she said, then noting his blank incomprehension, elaborated, “From Wada-san's apartment? He was wondering whether you're through in there, since the maid would like to clean. She's contracted through the end of the month.”
Of course she is, Touya thought, somewhat uncharitably. Considering that the man had no next of kin, and had lived in a company-owned building, it was likely Touya would be getting calls until the last box of personal effects had been consigned to auction somewhere. Dealing with the maid service was a small detail, but coming on top of everything else, it was more annoying than it had any right to be. He took a breath to calm himself.
“Please call him back and ask him to reschedule her for next week.” True, Touya had searched the apartment last night, but with the key failing to materialize in the office, it was looking like he would need to return there. “In fact... please ask him to inquire with her whether there were any furnishings or areas she was not supposed to clean, and give him my cell number to call with the answer.”
Ueda nodded and made a note. That done, she looked up. “Will you be continuing your search of the office?”
He shook his head, glaring back at the opulent room and the clutter of his morning's futile efforts.
“I am sure Wada-san would not have wanted you to have such a hassle,” she offered, voice cautiously sympathetic. “If he were here-”
“He's not,” Touya said. It came out sharper than he'd meant it to, but he was too tired to apologize.
“Yes, sir. However...” For the first time all day, she looked uncertain.
“If you have a suggestion, please go ahead. Finding the key is more important than my ego.”
“It is a little unorthodox, but have you considered consulting a medium?”
Touya stared.
Ueda continued, “I realize you are probably too young to believe in such things, but there is a man in Nakano whom I might recommend.” She shrugged. “That is, if you care to explore the option.”
“Of trying to talk to Wada.”
She nodded.
His stare took on a decidedly incredulous edge.
Their gazes locked for a moment, but then she bowed her head politely.
Touya sighed. The truth was, he had explored every option he could think of on his own, and at this point, was in no position to scoff. More to the point, he was beginning to think Ueda might make a good replacement for his own secretary when Togo went on maternity leave next month.
“If you would give me the number, I will consider it.”
Ueda thumbed a card from a small, leather wallet and made a photocopy before handing him the original. It was bright black and yellow with a somewhat childish font:
Shindou Hikaru
“Seeing dead people since 1992.”
“You... recommend this person?” The clarification seemed very necessary.
Ueda's polite mask was back in force. “He... lacks sophistication, but he's good.”
Touya pondered that as he made his way out to the elevators.
♦ ♦ ♦
It was only respect for Ueda that kept Touya from turning around the moment he saw the shop's door. Brightly colored photocopies advertising local bands covered almost the whole of the door's front, with the word “Medium” just peeking out between them. On the inside, the door proved to be glass with a cheap bell that jangled, announcing his entrance. The photocopies' riotous colors became a kaleidescope of shades whose light might have lent a properly mystical ambiance to the small reception area if it weren't for the owner's apparent preference for IKEA. The reception desk, waiting chairs and coffee table were all unabashedly modern - not a religious statue or decorative fountain in sight - and a vague redolence of ramen and room deodorizer was as close to incense as the place had to offer.
There was no receptionist, but a second bell sat pointedly in the middle of the counter. Touya rang it once, then sat down to wait, trying not to wonder too much about the selection of manga that served as this place's magazine offerings. Whoever ran this shop had clearly never taken a marketing course in his life, and yet for all its eccentricity, the waiting area felt oddly comfortable.
Perhaps it was that, or perhaps just the fact that Touya hadn't slept in nearly thirty-seven hours, but his next sensation was of being shaken gently awake.
“Hey there. You okay? This isn't a hotel, you know.”
The man was about his own age, but dressed far more casually - jeans paired with a bright red t-shirt emblazoned with the number five. His short hair was bleached to blond at the tips in a way Touya would have thought reserved for teenagers. He could well have been a delivery boy of some kind, except for his words and the black-and-white rosary circling his wrist. Perhaps the strangest thing about him was the unshakable feeling of recognition he inspired.
Touya bit down on a comment to that effect, saying instead, “My apologies. I had not expected to be waiting so long.”
“For me?”
“That depends. Are you Shindou Hikaru?”
“Huh. I mean, yeah, I am. You... need a medium?” He seemed baffled, and Touya wondered just what type of clients Shindou Hikaru usually got.
“I need a specific piece of information from someone who is dead and a colleague referred me to you.” It still sounded ridiculous, but having had just enough sleep to be well aware of his fatigue, Touya decided he didn't care. This odd young man would probably give him some evasion about the dead not being specific, and Touya could go home to see about taking a short nap before resuming his search in a more practical fashion.
But the medium was nodding.
“Okay. You'll need to give me his name and his favorite object and I'll see what I can do.” He seemed completely unconcerned, moving back to the reception desk to pick up a stack of mail he'd apparently brought in with him. “Oh, and I'll need to know exactly what you want me to ask this guy.”
“You're... just going to ask him?”
Shindou quirked an eyebrow at him. “Isn't that what you want?”
“Well, yes, but... I had assumed there might be some sort of ritual involved.” Touya wondered if it was even possible to sound intelligent when speaking on the topic of mystical claptrap, but decided that so long as he kept his voice level and pretended he was not saying anything patently ludicrous, he could still lay claim to some of his remaining dignity.
Shindou was smirking. “Does this look like the kind of place you'd hold a séance?” He laughed cheerfully. “Nah. I'll just see if I can find this guy, and when I do I'll ask him your question. Incidentally, I take cash or credit cards - no checks.”
“That can be arranged, provided you get an answer.” Negotiating fees was far more familiar territory and Touya was not about to enter any exorbitant fee into the company's accounts payable without having something to show for it. Preferably the Sakai collateral. He gave Shindou his best stern expression, and was surprised by a flash of something similar.
“I'll get an answer,” the medium replied, but then the momentarily intense look disappeared, replaced by its previous cheerfulness. “Anyway, have you got the item on you?”
“Item?”
“The ghost's favorite thing. I need it if I'm going to find him,” Shindou said. He opened a door to the right of the reception desk, holding it open with his foot as he sorted through his mail.
Touya followed him through into the small office behind the door. The room was brightly lit with economical fluorescent lamps, and the desk was more orderly than he would have expected. Stranger still was Shindou's apparent preference for Heian era artwork. Unless those two silk panels were exceptionally well done reproductions, Shindou's business was paying him well.
The medium noticed Touya's appreciation of the artwork. “Like those?”
“They're in excellent condition,” Touya allowed.
The medium shrugged. “I've always kinda liked them. So, we were talking about the dead guy's favorite thing.”
“Wada Mitsuhiro was his name.”
“Oh? Good.” Shindou scribbled a note on a pad of paper.
“As for his favorite item, I'm afraid I have no idea what that may have been.”
“Well, you wouldn't be the first one. Would his wife know?”
“He was unmarried. He has no living relatives, and to my knowledge, did not often socialize outside of the office.”
Shindou noted this in the pad, nodding. “Zombie salaryman...”
“Excuse me?”
“You know: moving around but not really alive? Anyway, if he's got no friends or relatives, I guess that just leaves you. How about we start with your name and then I'll ask a bunch of questions to see what I can work out, okay?”
Having no idea what the standard procedure when consulting a medium was Touya supposed this seemed as sensible as anything. If nothing else it would help him review the facts for himself and possibly drum up a fresh insight. He gave Shindou his name and then proceeded to answer questions for the next two hours. In the course of the interview, Touya was surprised to discover how easy it was to talk to Shindou, and the discussion took several lively sidetracks, always leading back to Wada while somehow keeping Touya interested enough in the conversation not to forget things.
The sun beyond the office window had fallen low on the horizon when Shindou finally tossed his notebook down and sighed.
“Well, I haven't got a clue,” he said.
It was strange to realize that the medium's professionalism had actually lead Touya into a feeling of cautious optimism - enough that this announcement dismayed him.
“Hey, hey, don't look at me like that.” Shindou had noticed his disappointment and was shaking his head. “I said I'd get an answer and I mean that. I just think I might need to see this guy's stuff in order to figure out what he cared about, that's all. You said you had access to his place: why don't we go over there? Jeez, you give up easy.”
“I am not giving up,” Touya snapped, realizing only when the medium smirked at him that the taunt had been deliberate. “I can take you to Wada-san's apartment right now, if you're not otherwise engaged.”
“Nope. No engagements here, but you're looking kinda beat. You sure you wouldn't rather wait until tomorrow morning?” The concern would have been more touching if the other man's stomach hadn't chosen that moment to growl and reveal his true motivations. Shindou grinned sheepishly, “Or maybe we could at least grab some dinner before we go?”
It was a reasonable enough request. Touya himself had not eaten since early that morning.
“There is a decent Chinese restaurant I know of along the way,” he allowed, standing and watching the medium toss his notebook, pencil, and a flashlight into a stylish backpack.
“Nah, let's just do ramen. I'm a cheap date.” Shindou guided Touya back out into the lobby with a light touch on his shoulder.
Between fatigue and the realization that this afternoon had really gone quite well, Touya found himself wondering about the man's choice of words.
♦ ♦ ♦
With the exception of his brief nap in the medium's lobby, Touya felt he'd been holding up well. At dinner, he had managed to keep up his end of the conversation, and since the medium had apparently decided not to discuss the case en route, had learned a fair bit about Shindou Hikaru himself. He'd learned that the man was less than a year older than himself, that he had studied psychology at Tokyo University, that he lived with his mother - more to care for her than the other way around - and that ramen was his favorite food. When Touya asked how he came to be a medium, Shindou explained about the first ghost he'd ever encountered (a purple-haired idol singer who had overdosed on heroin). His voice stayed light, but his posture took on a subtly defensive quality, and Touya wondered how often anyone actually believed that story.
He didn't realize he'd said it out loud until Shindou took a very deliberate swallow of sake and answered.
“I don't tell it much.”
They had finished the meal in silence and climbed into the taxi. Touya considered apologizing, then decided he couldn't possibly have said anything Shindou shouldn't have known to expect. After all, the man had chosen to be a medium, and anyone with a degree in psychology ought to know how normal people would react to such a ghost story. Still, in the absence of conversation, Touya quickly lost the fight to remain conscious.
♦ ♦ ♦
He woke up to the sound of Shindou talking, but not to him.
“-a workaholic. That's what you guys do, right? He's just sleeping, though. He'll probably be up sometime soon. Could we please get back on target?”
Was Shindou on the telephone? Gradually, Touya's surroundings were coming into focus: the expensive silk comforter rumpled beneath his cheek, the western-style bed. His shoes were off, but his suit jacket was still on, and the thought of the wrinkles made him sit up, still listening.
“Yeah, I know. You didn't mean to bother anybody. Only you kinda did, you know? Sounds like you left a real mess at work - got to be pretty bad for a guy like him to come looking for a guy like me. You should have thought of that. You were being too selfish.”
Selfish? Stupid suicide. If only someone had reminded Wada of his responsibilities before... he'd...
The comforter was familiar, but it didn't belong to Touya. This room was not his either, although he'd been here less than a day ago. Wada's comforter, Wada's bed, Wada's futilely-searched bedside table, and somewhere just beyond the bedroom door, that meant Shindou was talking to-
“Wada-san, just tell me, okay? I'm tired, Touya-san is out cold, and you've caused enough trouble. I'm not going to try to steal it, whatever the hell it is. I just want to give the guy some answers. Don't you think he deserves some answers? He cares about that company more than you probably cared about anything.”
There was no one sitting on the chair Shindou was facing, but it was clear someone was there. An antique abacus had been moved to stand on the coffee table between the medium's chair and the empty one - presumably the “favorite item” Shindou had said he needed to find. The medium himself looked exasperated, but very focused; so focused, in fact, that he did not seem to notice Touya entering the room.
“What do you mean, what do I think of him? He's... intense, I guess. Dedicated. Kinda cool to talk to, when he's not being a jerk, but he'll probably be a salary zombie just like you in a couple years. Sort of a waste, though. He's got great eyes.”
This was most assuredly not what Touya had expected to overhear. Still, he was not sure whether interrupting the medium might break whatever trance he was using to 'talk' to the ghost.
“Yeah, yeah, sad story. You guys always forget how to live. Look, I know you want to help your 'CEO's poor son,' so why don't you tell me what he needs to know, okay? That's about all the help you can give him anymore. Don't like it? Well, you should have thought about that before you killed yourself.”
Then Shindou was quiet for a long time. His face had a look of real concentration, as though he were listening, and finally his hand moved, scribbling something down on the notepad with an air of satisfaction. He began to set the notepad down, when something made him stop, and then with a strange expression, the medium added a string of numbers to the bottom of the page.
“He's not going to call me, you know. Not unless it's business,” Shindou said. He sounded almost wistful. “But hey, if that makes you happy- Heh. Yeah, it would make me happy too. So, I think we're done. You need anything else?”
That curious silence stretched again, and Touya took the opportunity to creep back into the bedroom. When he heard Shindou set the notepad down the second time, he stepped back into the living room and closed the door behind him with a deliberate bang.
Shindou jumped about a foot.
One wall of Wada's living room was made entirely of glass, and through it the pale pink and lavender shades of dawn were beginning to tint the clouds. In the softening morning light, Touya took in the details of his new acquaintance: rumpled clothes, disheveled hair, and the fact that he managed to look smug and irritated all at once.
“Jeez, Touya-san! Don't sneak up on a guy.”
“One would think that a man who speaks to ghosts for a living would be more difficult to scare,” Touya replied, dryly.
“Yeah well, it's been a long night,” Shindou muttered. He smoothed his hair back, then and stood up, pulling on a smile and a more professional mien. “Anyway, I got your answer for you. The bank's a block away from your office and the key-” he stood and headed into the apartment's small kitchen, leaning down to feel at the underside of the refrigerator and standing up a moment later with a bit of metal in his hand, “The key's right here.” He grinned.
Touya could not help staring. Although he had been growing less and less skeptical of Shindou's ability, seeing the key made it all somehow more real. Added to that, the relief of having found the thing was very nearly euphoric, and Touya felt his lips curl in a hint of a smile for the first time in two days.
“He told me the box number and the access phrase too - I wrote them down for you here, and... well, if you have any other questions, or need anything, my cell number's on the bottom. Wada thought you might need to call me sometime.” Shindou hesitated ever so slightly on the last part, and Touya decided the man was not very good at dissembling.
“Did Wada give a reason? That I might need to call you again, that is. He was not holding back some piece of information, was he?”
“I don't think so,” Shindou shrugged. He searched around in the kitchen drawers until he located a tape dispenser, then taped the key to the note pad's sheet and handed both over to Touya. “I think he just wanted to 'do a good deed' or something. You know, make sure his young colleague didn't turn into a salary zombie just like him. I dunno. Ghosts tend to be busybodies - the ones that hang around. I guess I could try to find him again and ask him, but I'm kinda tired right now. Anyway, you've got your key and stuff.”
“I do,” Touya agreed. He watched Shindou pack the notepad back into his backpack, but paused in the doorway before either of them could head out. “I appreciate all of your assistance, Shindou-san.”
Shindou grinned. “Yeah, well you owe me twenty thousand yen.”
“And dinner,” Touya nodded, keeping his face perfectly still. “I seem to recall you paying last night, and that really should have been expensed.”
“Really? Huh.” Shindou eyed him shrewdly for a moment, then shrugged, smiling. “Well, if you say so. I've never been good at keeping track.”
If he'd been more awake, Touya might have had something to say about an entrepreneur who could not keep track of his own expenses - from his perspective in the world of corporate finance, Touya cringed at the very idea. But here in the rose-colored morning, that seemed less important than the key in his hand and the cell phone number on the page.
“I'll call you,” Touya said.
“Sounds good.” Shindou agreed.
Their next meeting would have nothing to do with business, in keeping with Wada's wishes, but if Touya had his way, it would also be soon.
Author: trensaddiction
Recipient: room101 ( requests)
Pairing: Akira, Hikaru
Warnings: AU, absolute absence of go.
Summary: Touya needs an answer that only a ghost can give him.
Notes: none
Suicide was selfish. Touya had believed that in the worst, emotion-wracked moments of his teenage years, and maturity had not changed his opinion. Sifting through the clutter left in Wada's office, Touya failed to feel the admiration-filled sorrow everyone seemed to expect. The man had been a good colleague, up until that final, disastrous deal, but the fact remained that in his absence, it was Touya who had to clean up the mess, and it was beginning to look like he'd need to learn divination to do it.
He leaned out the office door to call Wada's secretary over again. “You're sure he didn't leave anything with you? A key, perhaps?” It was hard to make the question sound polite on its fifth repetition, but Touya had a reputation to maintain.
“My deepest apologies, Touya-san. I'm sure he did not.” Wada's secretary was a competent woman in her mid-forties. She'd handled more than one young businessman in her time, and Touya's status as the CEO's son wasn't about to fluster her. Still, she was shrewd enough to realize just what a mess Wada had left them in and had done her best to be as helpful as she could all morning.
He nodded to her in acknowledgment. “Of course.”
She managed a smile for him before turning away to answer the phone.
There was no doubt the man had known how to choose a secretary, but looking back into Wada's office, Touya couldn't help feeling frustrated. If they didn't manage to locate and open the safety deposit box where Wada had stored Sakai's collateral, settling the client's account would be the least of their worries. Thirty-three million yen... how could the man have been so thoughtless? As Director of Finance, Touya could not begin to imagine. There were all sorts of operating procedures that should have been followed, designated accounts to be used, company-owned security lockers available-
“Touya-san?”
- and if for some reason he'd decided to forgo all of that, Wada should at least have left a memo. The man had two voice recorders and four fresh pads of post-its in his top desk drawer alone. Never mind a suicide note, if he were really regretting his actions vis a vis the company that much, he should at least have left something-
“Touya-san?”
The change in her tone finally penetrated, interrupting his mental rant. “Yes, Ueda-san?”
“The building manager just called,” she said, then noting his blank incomprehension, elaborated, “From Wada-san's apartment? He was wondering whether you're through in there, since the maid would like to clean. She's contracted through the end of the month.”
Of course she is, Touya thought, somewhat uncharitably. Considering that the man had no next of kin, and had lived in a company-owned building, it was likely Touya would be getting calls until the last box of personal effects had been consigned to auction somewhere. Dealing with the maid service was a small detail, but coming on top of everything else, it was more annoying than it had any right to be. He took a breath to calm himself.
“Please call him back and ask him to reschedule her for next week.” True, Touya had searched the apartment last night, but with the key failing to materialize in the office, it was looking like he would need to return there. “In fact... please ask him to inquire with her whether there were any furnishings or areas she was not supposed to clean, and give him my cell number to call with the answer.”
Ueda nodded and made a note. That done, she looked up. “Will you be continuing your search of the office?”
He shook his head, glaring back at the opulent room and the clutter of his morning's futile efforts.
“I am sure Wada-san would not have wanted you to have such a hassle,” she offered, voice cautiously sympathetic. “If he were here-”
“He's not,” Touya said. It came out sharper than he'd meant it to, but he was too tired to apologize.
“Yes, sir. However...” For the first time all day, she looked uncertain.
“If you have a suggestion, please go ahead. Finding the key is more important than my ego.”
“It is a little unorthodox, but have you considered consulting a medium?”
Touya stared.
Ueda continued, “I realize you are probably too young to believe in such things, but there is a man in Nakano whom I might recommend.” She shrugged. “That is, if you care to explore the option.”
“Of trying to talk to Wada.”
She nodded.
His stare took on a decidedly incredulous edge.
Their gazes locked for a moment, but then she bowed her head politely.
Touya sighed. The truth was, he had explored every option he could think of on his own, and at this point, was in no position to scoff. More to the point, he was beginning to think Ueda might make a good replacement for his own secretary when Togo went on maternity leave next month.
“If you would give me the number, I will consider it.”
Ueda thumbed a card from a small, leather wallet and made a photocopy before handing him the original. It was bright black and yellow with a somewhat childish font:
Shindou Hikaru
“Seeing dead people since 1992.”
“You... recommend this person?” The clarification seemed very necessary.
Ueda's polite mask was back in force. “He... lacks sophistication, but he's good.”
Touya pondered that as he made his way out to the elevators.
♦ ♦ ♦
It was only respect for Ueda that kept Touya from turning around the moment he saw the shop's door. Brightly colored photocopies advertising local bands covered almost the whole of the door's front, with the word “Medium” just peeking out between them. On the inside, the door proved to be glass with a cheap bell that jangled, announcing his entrance. The photocopies' riotous colors became a kaleidescope of shades whose light might have lent a properly mystical ambiance to the small reception area if it weren't for the owner's apparent preference for IKEA. The reception desk, waiting chairs and coffee table were all unabashedly modern - not a religious statue or decorative fountain in sight - and a vague redolence of ramen and room deodorizer was as close to incense as the place had to offer.
There was no receptionist, but a second bell sat pointedly in the middle of the counter. Touya rang it once, then sat down to wait, trying not to wonder too much about the selection of manga that served as this place's magazine offerings. Whoever ran this shop had clearly never taken a marketing course in his life, and yet for all its eccentricity, the waiting area felt oddly comfortable.
Perhaps it was that, or perhaps just the fact that Touya hadn't slept in nearly thirty-seven hours, but his next sensation was of being shaken gently awake.
“Hey there. You okay? This isn't a hotel, you know.”
The man was about his own age, but dressed far more casually - jeans paired with a bright red t-shirt emblazoned with the number five. His short hair was bleached to blond at the tips in a way Touya would have thought reserved for teenagers. He could well have been a delivery boy of some kind, except for his words and the black-and-white rosary circling his wrist. Perhaps the strangest thing about him was the unshakable feeling of recognition he inspired.
Touya bit down on a comment to that effect, saying instead, “My apologies. I had not expected to be waiting so long.”
“For me?”
“That depends. Are you Shindou Hikaru?”
“Huh. I mean, yeah, I am. You... need a medium?” He seemed baffled, and Touya wondered just what type of clients Shindou Hikaru usually got.
“I need a specific piece of information from someone who is dead and a colleague referred me to you.” It still sounded ridiculous, but having had just enough sleep to be well aware of his fatigue, Touya decided he didn't care. This odd young man would probably give him some evasion about the dead not being specific, and Touya could go home to see about taking a short nap before resuming his search in a more practical fashion.
But the medium was nodding.
“Okay. You'll need to give me his name and his favorite object and I'll see what I can do.” He seemed completely unconcerned, moving back to the reception desk to pick up a stack of mail he'd apparently brought in with him. “Oh, and I'll need to know exactly what you want me to ask this guy.”
“You're... just going to ask him?”
Shindou quirked an eyebrow at him. “Isn't that what you want?”
“Well, yes, but... I had assumed there might be some sort of ritual involved.” Touya wondered if it was even possible to sound intelligent when speaking on the topic of mystical claptrap, but decided that so long as he kept his voice level and pretended he was not saying anything patently ludicrous, he could still lay claim to some of his remaining dignity.
Shindou was smirking. “Does this look like the kind of place you'd hold a séance?” He laughed cheerfully. “Nah. I'll just see if I can find this guy, and when I do I'll ask him your question. Incidentally, I take cash or credit cards - no checks.”
“That can be arranged, provided you get an answer.” Negotiating fees was far more familiar territory and Touya was not about to enter any exorbitant fee into the company's accounts payable without having something to show for it. Preferably the Sakai collateral. He gave Shindou his best stern expression, and was surprised by a flash of something similar.
“I'll get an answer,” the medium replied, but then the momentarily intense look disappeared, replaced by its previous cheerfulness. “Anyway, have you got the item on you?”
“Item?”
“The ghost's favorite thing. I need it if I'm going to find him,” Shindou said. He opened a door to the right of the reception desk, holding it open with his foot as he sorted through his mail.
Touya followed him through into the small office behind the door. The room was brightly lit with economical fluorescent lamps, and the desk was more orderly than he would have expected. Stranger still was Shindou's apparent preference for Heian era artwork. Unless those two silk panels were exceptionally well done reproductions, Shindou's business was paying him well.
The medium noticed Touya's appreciation of the artwork. “Like those?”
“They're in excellent condition,” Touya allowed.
The medium shrugged. “I've always kinda liked them. So, we were talking about the dead guy's favorite thing.”
“Wada Mitsuhiro was his name.”
“Oh? Good.” Shindou scribbled a note on a pad of paper.
“As for his favorite item, I'm afraid I have no idea what that may have been.”
“Well, you wouldn't be the first one. Would his wife know?”
“He was unmarried. He has no living relatives, and to my knowledge, did not often socialize outside of the office.”
Shindou noted this in the pad, nodding. “Zombie salaryman...”
“Excuse me?”
“You know: moving around but not really alive? Anyway, if he's got no friends or relatives, I guess that just leaves you. How about we start with your name and then I'll ask a bunch of questions to see what I can work out, okay?”
Having no idea what the standard procedure when consulting a medium was Touya supposed this seemed as sensible as anything. If nothing else it would help him review the facts for himself and possibly drum up a fresh insight. He gave Shindou his name and then proceeded to answer questions for the next two hours. In the course of the interview, Touya was surprised to discover how easy it was to talk to Shindou, and the discussion took several lively sidetracks, always leading back to Wada while somehow keeping Touya interested enough in the conversation not to forget things.
The sun beyond the office window had fallen low on the horizon when Shindou finally tossed his notebook down and sighed.
“Well, I haven't got a clue,” he said.
It was strange to realize that the medium's professionalism had actually lead Touya into a feeling of cautious optimism - enough that this announcement dismayed him.
“Hey, hey, don't look at me like that.” Shindou had noticed his disappointment and was shaking his head. “I said I'd get an answer and I mean that. I just think I might need to see this guy's stuff in order to figure out what he cared about, that's all. You said you had access to his place: why don't we go over there? Jeez, you give up easy.”
“I am not giving up,” Touya snapped, realizing only when the medium smirked at him that the taunt had been deliberate. “I can take you to Wada-san's apartment right now, if you're not otherwise engaged.”
“Nope. No engagements here, but you're looking kinda beat. You sure you wouldn't rather wait until tomorrow morning?” The concern would have been more touching if the other man's stomach hadn't chosen that moment to growl and reveal his true motivations. Shindou grinned sheepishly, “Or maybe we could at least grab some dinner before we go?”
It was a reasonable enough request. Touya himself had not eaten since early that morning.
“There is a decent Chinese restaurant I know of along the way,” he allowed, standing and watching the medium toss his notebook, pencil, and a flashlight into a stylish backpack.
“Nah, let's just do ramen. I'm a cheap date.” Shindou guided Touya back out into the lobby with a light touch on his shoulder.
Between fatigue and the realization that this afternoon had really gone quite well, Touya found himself wondering about the man's choice of words.
♦ ♦ ♦
With the exception of his brief nap in the medium's lobby, Touya felt he'd been holding up well. At dinner, he had managed to keep up his end of the conversation, and since the medium had apparently decided not to discuss the case en route, had learned a fair bit about Shindou Hikaru himself. He'd learned that the man was less than a year older than himself, that he had studied psychology at Tokyo University, that he lived with his mother - more to care for her than the other way around - and that ramen was his favorite food. When Touya asked how he came to be a medium, Shindou explained about the first ghost he'd ever encountered (a purple-haired idol singer who had overdosed on heroin). His voice stayed light, but his posture took on a subtly defensive quality, and Touya wondered how often anyone actually believed that story.
He didn't realize he'd said it out loud until Shindou took a very deliberate swallow of sake and answered.
“I don't tell it much.”
They had finished the meal in silence and climbed into the taxi. Touya considered apologizing, then decided he couldn't possibly have said anything Shindou shouldn't have known to expect. After all, the man had chosen to be a medium, and anyone with a degree in psychology ought to know how normal people would react to such a ghost story. Still, in the absence of conversation, Touya quickly lost the fight to remain conscious.
♦ ♦ ♦
He woke up to the sound of Shindou talking, but not to him.
“-a workaholic. That's what you guys do, right? He's just sleeping, though. He'll probably be up sometime soon. Could we please get back on target?”
Was Shindou on the telephone? Gradually, Touya's surroundings were coming into focus: the expensive silk comforter rumpled beneath his cheek, the western-style bed. His shoes were off, but his suit jacket was still on, and the thought of the wrinkles made him sit up, still listening.
“Yeah, I know. You didn't mean to bother anybody. Only you kinda did, you know? Sounds like you left a real mess at work - got to be pretty bad for a guy like him to come looking for a guy like me. You should have thought of that. You were being too selfish.”
Selfish? Stupid suicide. If only someone had reminded Wada of his responsibilities before... he'd...
The comforter was familiar, but it didn't belong to Touya. This room was not his either, although he'd been here less than a day ago. Wada's comforter, Wada's bed, Wada's futilely-searched bedside table, and somewhere just beyond the bedroom door, that meant Shindou was talking to-
“Wada-san, just tell me, okay? I'm tired, Touya-san is out cold, and you've caused enough trouble. I'm not going to try to steal it, whatever the hell it is. I just want to give the guy some answers. Don't you think he deserves some answers? He cares about that company more than you probably cared about anything.”
There was no one sitting on the chair Shindou was facing, but it was clear someone was there. An antique abacus had been moved to stand on the coffee table between the medium's chair and the empty one - presumably the “favorite item” Shindou had said he needed to find. The medium himself looked exasperated, but very focused; so focused, in fact, that he did not seem to notice Touya entering the room.
“What do you mean, what do I think of him? He's... intense, I guess. Dedicated. Kinda cool to talk to, when he's not being a jerk, but he'll probably be a salary zombie just like you in a couple years. Sort of a waste, though. He's got great eyes.”
This was most assuredly not what Touya had expected to overhear. Still, he was not sure whether interrupting the medium might break whatever trance he was using to 'talk' to the ghost.
“Yeah, yeah, sad story. You guys always forget how to live. Look, I know you want to help your 'CEO's poor son,' so why don't you tell me what he needs to know, okay? That's about all the help you can give him anymore. Don't like it? Well, you should have thought about that before you killed yourself.”
Then Shindou was quiet for a long time. His face had a look of real concentration, as though he were listening, and finally his hand moved, scribbling something down on the notepad with an air of satisfaction. He began to set the notepad down, when something made him stop, and then with a strange expression, the medium added a string of numbers to the bottom of the page.
“He's not going to call me, you know. Not unless it's business,” Shindou said. He sounded almost wistful. “But hey, if that makes you happy- Heh. Yeah, it would make me happy too. So, I think we're done. You need anything else?”
That curious silence stretched again, and Touya took the opportunity to creep back into the bedroom. When he heard Shindou set the notepad down the second time, he stepped back into the living room and closed the door behind him with a deliberate bang.
Shindou jumped about a foot.
One wall of Wada's living room was made entirely of glass, and through it the pale pink and lavender shades of dawn were beginning to tint the clouds. In the softening morning light, Touya took in the details of his new acquaintance: rumpled clothes, disheveled hair, and the fact that he managed to look smug and irritated all at once.
“Jeez, Touya-san! Don't sneak up on a guy.”
“One would think that a man who speaks to ghosts for a living would be more difficult to scare,” Touya replied, dryly.
“Yeah well, it's been a long night,” Shindou muttered. He smoothed his hair back, then and stood up, pulling on a smile and a more professional mien. “Anyway, I got your answer for you. The bank's a block away from your office and the key-” he stood and headed into the apartment's small kitchen, leaning down to feel at the underside of the refrigerator and standing up a moment later with a bit of metal in his hand, “The key's right here.” He grinned.
Touya could not help staring. Although he had been growing less and less skeptical of Shindou's ability, seeing the key made it all somehow more real. Added to that, the relief of having found the thing was very nearly euphoric, and Touya felt his lips curl in a hint of a smile for the first time in two days.
“He told me the box number and the access phrase too - I wrote them down for you here, and... well, if you have any other questions, or need anything, my cell number's on the bottom. Wada thought you might need to call me sometime.” Shindou hesitated ever so slightly on the last part, and Touya decided the man was not very good at dissembling.
“Did Wada give a reason? That I might need to call you again, that is. He was not holding back some piece of information, was he?”
“I don't think so,” Shindou shrugged. He searched around in the kitchen drawers until he located a tape dispenser, then taped the key to the note pad's sheet and handed both over to Touya. “I think he just wanted to 'do a good deed' or something. You know, make sure his young colleague didn't turn into a salary zombie just like him. I dunno. Ghosts tend to be busybodies - the ones that hang around. I guess I could try to find him again and ask him, but I'm kinda tired right now. Anyway, you've got your key and stuff.”
“I do,” Touya agreed. He watched Shindou pack the notepad back into his backpack, but paused in the doorway before either of them could head out. “I appreciate all of your assistance, Shindou-san.”
Shindou grinned. “Yeah, well you owe me twenty thousand yen.”
“And dinner,” Touya nodded, keeping his face perfectly still. “I seem to recall you paying last night, and that really should have been expensed.”
“Really? Huh.” Shindou eyed him shrewdly for a moment, then shrugged, smiling. “Well, if you say so. I've never been good at keeping track.”
If he'd been more awake, Touya might have had something to say about an entrepreneur who could not keep track of his own expenses - from his perspective in the world of corporate finance, Touya cringed at the very idea. But here in the rose-colored morning, that seemed less important than the key in his hand and the cell phone number on the page.
“I'll call you,” Touya said.
“Sounds good.” Shindou agreed.
Their next meeting would have nothing to do with business, in keeping with Wada's wishes, but if Touya had his way, it would also be soon.