Well, this is the first story I've posted in years. The last account I made was when I was thirteen, so...

Anyway

Spoilers (duh): This might be confusing if you've seen only seen the anime. But if you read a lot in this fandom, you've probably figured it out.

Warnings: I think there's maybe one curse word in there somewhere...

Disclaimer: is this even necessary? I don't own. Otherwise Naru would get the stick out from up his, well, you know.

Mai didn't know how it got to this point.

"Stupid bandage," she muttered oh-so maturely to herself, trying valiantly to avoid scratching her leg. Why did cuts always itch?

Two months ago, she told him with little expectation that she loved him. Really, she'd just wanted him to know that she cared, even if he didn't want it. Even if he couldn't accept it. But he'd done what he always did when confronted with something irrational and beyond the realm of his logic: he'd manipulated her, used his face and his words as a weapon. And he'd left. She wasn't angry, though. Sad, maybe, but not angry. After all, it took a special individual to pet a porcupine. As she'd been told many times, she was very, very special.

"Stupid glass." The bandage was already dotted with red. She'd have to change it soon. Through the office door, she could hear Lin typing. The air was so still.

Now that they were back, nothing seemed to have changed. She still called him Naru, because she didn't know Oliver. She knew Naru. She hadn't asked if it was alright, but he hadn't said anything. He still drank his tea, in fact he seemed to ask for it more often, and with less impatience. She thought maybe he missed it, if nothing else. The others still gathered around the common room and filled the modest office with an orchestra of mirth, the tap-tap of Lin's fingers over the keyboards their metronome, Naru's complaints a sour note. The routine was well-established.

A creak beneath the door, the floorboards sinking minutely, and an even rhythm. Naru was pacing.

But then, everything was different. It was an internal shift, barely noticeable. The little nuances with which the team interacted had changed in those two months. Bou-san had taken the role of leader and had flourished, even under Madoka's falcon eyes. Sometimes, though, when he gave commands he paused. Mai thought he was waiting for Naru to interject. As for the others, they fell into their roles as underlings, but they seemed to move around orders and problems, avoiding the space where someone was missing. There had been a sense of incompletion.

Naru never paced. He preferred to think in stillness.

Mai was different too. Older. She hadn't realized her heart was broken until he'd returned. Strange, she thought. She'd always assumed there'd be some sort of fanfare when she lost her first love. A pity-party at least. But now, all she felt was tired. The pain had been constant, so prevalent it faded to the background. Like getting a song stuck in your head and not realizing when it went away. Unfortunately, she still loved him. But she was getting better at ignoring her heartbeat when he was around. His half-playful, half-malicious tendency to provoke her temper was teetering more to the side of attempt. When he called her stupid now, she blinked passively and moved on. Once she saw him frown.

Mai sighed and plucked at the fabric swaddling her leg petulantly, wanting to glare the gash into healing so she could scratch the damn thing. The case had been surprisingly simple to wrap up, given the hundreds of ghostly POWs that had lingered on the site. They hadn't needed to call in John or Masako, and Bou-san had purified the spirits in a matter of minutes. Nothing too strenuous.

Until she'd gotten hurt.

Because she always gets hurt.

"Mai." She looked up. His door was open and his black-clad shape stood in the doorway, arms crossed, pale skin ignited by the overhead light, blue eyes calculating. But not cold. Why weren't they cold?

"Yes?" Maybe she should make tea. He seemed unsteady on his feet.

"You should be more careful." It stung, when he said things like that. As if he cared. As if he'd let himself say it even if he did. She didn't want the hope. Maybe she was old in that aspect, but Mai really hated hope sometimes. She was bitter, or at least she played it beautifully.

"I'll do my best," she said with far less cheer than she would have in the past. The venom lacing each syllable was shocking. It sounded dangerously like hate, which was ridiculous. Mai Taniyama didn't hate.

Especially not Naru.

His eyes narrowed, an expression she'd come to learn meant he was confused. He hated being confused, thus the glare. "Are you alright?"

Mai fought against the snort rising inelegantly to her nose. "I'm fine. Don't worry your pretty face over me."

Condescending, but she was frankly too tired to be nice, and her leg was throbbing, and right about now she would love to go home and sleep. She'd love to talk to Gene. She'd love to stop hurting for a minute so she couldn't hear the "me or Gene?" playing in her mind in a constant loop.

"Mai," he said evenly, but there was a question somewhere between the sounds. She wondered if maybe, were he not unfailingly himself, she could see the hurt leeching into his insecurity. But this was Naru; he and insecurity mixed as well as him and expressing emotions.

"I'm tired, Oliver. Let me be." His eyes widened fractionally. She considered leaving as he stared, perhaps clocking out early. It was a slow day, no customers, typical after a big case. She needed to change the bandage. She took a step to the door.

"I...don't like seeing you hurt," he said slowly, like a child fumbling over the alphabet. Mai stopped in her trek. She looked at him fleetingly, to see the confusion gathering his brow. He seemed lost. There is no logic, Naru. None.

She bit back the sarcasm. After all, she wasn't mad, only tired. He'd run if she let him. She wasn't going to let him. "It seems to happen a lot. I thought you were used to it by now."

Something like a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. They said nothing then, as they studied each other. Mai only noticed now that he seemed paler than she remembered, a little more sallow. His eyes lacked the sharp, calculating gleam and seemed clouded.

"You used your powers, didn't you? When the glass was flying towards me," she clarified, taking a tentative step towards him. He didn't move away, even as she invaded the five-foot radius surrounding him at all times.

"Mai!" Ayako screamed over the thunderous shattering. She watched the shards fly towards her with a sort of half-interest, already nursing the first slice of her skin. But suddenly there was a body next to her, clad in black. The glass fell like tear drops.

He nodded. "I couldn't stop it. My control slipped."

His pride added the self-loathing. His confusion added the fear. They were silent again.

A minute passed. "I don't understand it."

She waited. He was shifting his weight from foot to foot, a nervous habit she'd never noticed before. Maybe because she'd never known him to be nervous about anything.

"I asked you this before. Same face, same powers, one good, one bad. Which would you choose?" He had to be sure. He had to know every variable, plan for every contingency. A first trial, plant the seeds, then a second. He was a scientist, after all. An idiot scientist.

Mai smiled at him. She'd been prepared for this question. "A smart girl would choose the good one."

No control for comparison.

His midnight eyes narrowed again, looking first at her face, then to her hands, then to her eyes. He was searching for something, analyzing the way he did the information on a computer screen. The way she imagined he analyzed everything. Mai let him pick her apart.

There is nothing to find. No logic. I've already said it.

She started for the door, only pausing when her hand touched the frame gently. She needed an anchor, something tangible to hold on to. Naru was still watching her. Oliver was still watching her. She turned her head halfway around, but decided against actually looking at him.

"Well, I've never been smart, have I?"

In her peripheral, she saw him blink owlishly. She'd caught him off guard, and that was enough for her. For now. Before he could speak, she skipped through the door, a satisfied smile on her face.

Ta-da! Mai's moment of glory. AKA the only time she'll ever outwit him ever. Hope you enjoyed it!

Oh, and yes, I love fragments. They are quite purposeful.

PS. Thanks to Kagome Pureheart for catching that. I don't know how I missed it! If you guys see anymore mistakes, let me know. I don't have a beta, so I'm likely to miss a few. Oh, and sorry if you were hoping for an update. I have a sequel in the works, but it's not coming out like I want it to, so we'll see.