A Touch of Mistletoe (5 page)

"Do you think Hanabishi-senshuu is haunted?" Ash asked, mirroring the honorific she'd used and reminding himself to look it up later. He was comfortable with the everyday –san and the informal –kun and –chan, but Japanese protocols were so layered, the learning was ongoing.

Asami looked down at her lap. Her hands were small, folded together, lacking rings or polished fingernails, unlike many of her professional peers. "What I think about this doesn't matter."

"Sorry if I was being unhelpful," Ash apologized. "It's only that I'm unaccustomed to serving in protective capacity, rather than taking a case for active investigation."

"Not at all." Asami waved a hand. "If you would investigate, we would appreciate it. However, to do so, it would be best if you were at Yuki-kun's side the whole time, therefore it's considered the role of a bodyguard."

Ash took in the way she'd phrased everything and guessed it had something to do with writing up the expense of billing a specialist to come in and investigate whatever was bothering Yuki. "Then, the details of the job..." he began delicately.

"Yes," Asami said. She dipped into her purse and brought up an envelope, bowing with head and shoulders as she held it out to him with both hands. "This is the daily stipend and expenses we can cover."

Brows raised, Ash accepted the envelope and bobbed his head in turn. He opened the flap at the top and pulled out a sheet of folded paper. The figures made his eyes widen; even the daily stipend was more than he would have asked. He supposed bodyguard work paid better than investigating.

Ash re-folded the paper and stowed it, turning a slow smile on her. "Asami-san, you've just hired yourself a paranormal detective." She bowed her head in response.

He wasn't sure whether to kick Keisuke, or buy him a beer. Ash supposed he'd have it figured out by the next time he saw him.

"When do we start?"

"As soon as possible. This afternoon, if you're free," Asami replied.

*~*~*

Ice skating was the only sport the Japanese people revered almost as highly as baseball, which they had elevated to an art exceeding its American parent.

Ash followed both in passing because a good deal of small talk seemed to revolve around one or the other depending on the time of year. He had never been to the Saitama Super Arena before, or any ice rink for that matter, with the exception of a date at an outdoor rink near Christmas that had involved a lot of falling and a cold shoulder at the end of the evening.

During the car ride, Ash looked up the 'senshuu' honorific Asami had used, and learned it was granted to athletes. Given his indifference to sports, Ash wasn't surprised he hadn't encountered it before.

At Saitama, Asami ushered him through a side entrance rather than the main one, and Ash might have been offended if there hadn't been an absence of cars and people out front, contrasting with actual foot traffic bustling along the back corridor. She took the lead, guiding him through a long, narrow hall after he'd stooped to get through the door.

Asami led him through a few more turns and two more doorways before they entered a rink about two times larger than the one outdoor rink Ash had ever been on. The air was cool with a hint of bite, and the soft shush of blades carving the ice echoed through the massive space. A metallic scent hovered in the arena and Ash got the strong impression of exhilaration from a crowd that wasn't there. Several skaters were out on the ice in body suits and jackets of muted color, all of them moving with grace and speed that Ash could only admire. They were all young men, some of them leaping, others twirling, a few circling idly seeming to hang back while one or two crossed the ice fast.

Ash's eyes were drawn to a slim young man in a black bodysuit. He was skating backwards, moving so fast he'd crossed half the rink in a few seconds. He changed the angle of his body deftly, going from skating backward to forward in a blink, reversing direction twice more before skating backward while looking over his shoulder. He did a quick brake with his skate and performed an incredible leap, spinning swiftly in the air before touching down—and tumbling onto his left flank, flipping over, and scrambling up onto his skates again so swiftly and deftly he might never have fallen if Ash had blinked at the right moment.

The young man's "
Ah, shimatta
" was audible even from across the rink.

Beside Ash, Asami gave a brief, piercing whistle and the skater's head turned. She waved him over.

Yuki glided across the ice in their direction. He cut a trim, athletic figure in the form-fitting bodysuit, and Ash took himself to task for checking out a kid who couldn't be much more than nineteen or twenty.

His quick car ride research, mostly consisting of a Wikipedia entry and the International Skating Union website, had supplied Ash with a few key details. Beyond being young, Yuki's rise in the figure skating world had been meteoric over the past few years. Ash had tried to look into that, because such a swift trajectory of success could cause enemies, if not amongst his fellow skaters then their fans. He would have to rely on Asami there, because he lacked the connections for a contemporary-world investigation.

Yuki's dark eyes flicked up and down Ash as he approached, one hand on his waist, and the scrutiny made Ash glad a blush wouldn't show on his skin. He was used to that kind of appraisal in Japan, but not many attractive young men paid him the level of attention Yuki gave.

"Hello," Yuki said uncertainly in English before cocking his head at Asami.

Asami handed him a pair of long, brightly colored pieces of what looked like plastic. Yuki nodded and bent over, sliding them over the blades of his skates.

Ash had to transfer his gaze elsewhere to stop ogling Yuki's—his
client
—small, firm rear. Somewhere near Atlanta his momma, if she was awake, had probably taken off a shoe to throw at him for his bad manners before remembering he was out of range.

"Come, we can talk in the office," Asami said in Japanese, gesturing.

Ash turned to follow, halting to let Yuki precede him as he stepped off the ice, but Yuki did an about face, folding in half as though bowing to the ice. The abrupt maneuver left Ash staring at his ass again, and he almost raised his eyes to the vaulted ceiling but he was caught by a quick gesture of Yuki's. He lowered one hand to brush his fingers over the ice before straightening as swiftly as he'd turned, then stepped forth to follow Asami. She didn't remark on it, so neither did Ash as he trailed them to the office.

He's superstitious,
Asami had told him. Ash puzzled over that brief gesture until they were settled in a small office off the back corridor that had brought them to the rink.

"Yuki, we spoke the other day of hiring protection," Asami said.

Yuki shifted in his chair, angling his knees toward Ash. His dark eyes moved over Ash again, settling on his face. "Asami-san, shouldn't we speak English?"

"Only if you prefer, Hanabishi-senshuu," Ash replied in Japanese. He kept his eyes fixed on Yuki; the moment someone realized Ash spoke serviceable Japanese was very telling to him.

Yuki broke into a charming, boyish smile. "Oh, you speak Japanese! That's great." He winked. "My English is terrible."

Ash chuckled. "Even though you live in Los Angeles most of the year?" He checked himself, adding, "Hanabishi-senshuu." The Japanese put so much premium on formality, he couldn't afford to leave off a single honorific until he knew his clients' wishes.

"I don't get out much." Yuki waved a hand. "Please, call me Yuki...?" He gave Ash an adorable head-cock that made Ash want to ruffle his hair.

"This is Ash Harmon-san," Asami supplied. "He is a paranormal detective of substantial repute."

"Let's hope Keisuke-san didn't overstate my abilities," Ash said with a wry smile.

Yuki turned bright, interested eyes on him. "Paranormal detective?"

"That makes what I do sound a great deal more interesting than it is," Ash replied, leaning forward slightly, clasping his hands over one knee.

"Do you need me for this, Yuki-kun?" Asami asked. "Haruko-kun looks like he's in trouble out there."

"No, I'll see you later?" Yuki waved and Asami left the office, closing the door behind her. Yuki hitched forward on his chair, maintaining eye contact. It surprised Ash, used as he was to his Japanese clients averting their gaze after a second or two. "Thank you," he said.

"I haven't done anything yet." Ash gave a half shrug.

"For taking the case," Yuki said. "Even Hina-san thought I was seeking attention, or having some kind of mental break, until Keisuke-san
gave her your business card."

Asami Hina didn't strike Ash as that cold, but he could picture her at a loss when her superstitious but normally level-headed skater started making complaints of a paranormal nature. "I'm glad if I can be helpful." He had to keep it vague, still not sure whether he was there more for peace of mind or an actual case.

Yuki sat up a little straighter, tilting his head to one side. He had a fringe of black hair that framed his heart-shaped face, which was almost plain and even somewhat on the weak-chinned side until it lightened with a smile. "Harmon-san—"

"Please, call me Ash." His fingers twitched on his knee.

Yuki gave him one of those quick, contagious smiles and held his right hand out. "Ash-san, it's nice to meet you."

"Just Ash is fine, Yuki-kun." Ash was pleasantly surprised by the firm handshake.

"Then it's just Yuki." Yuki was slow to withdraw his hand, dark brown eyes still locked on Ash's.

"You're my client," Ash protested, though even to his own ears it sounded token.

"You're American," Yuki countered.

"Fair enough." Ash tried not to smile at Yuki's stubbornness, but it tugged at his lips. "All right, Yuki. Would you like to tell me what's going on?" He fished his notebook from an inner jacket pocket and when he looked up, he caught Yuki staring at his mouth. At least, Ash thought that was where his intent gaze was fixed.

Yuki blinked and his eyes snapped up to meet his. He ducked his head briefly, catching his lower lip between his teeth before turning his head to give him a sidelong glance instead. "I haven't been able to get a good night's sleep since this started. With finals and Nationals coming up, it's been affecting my practice, and I can't afford that."

Ash smiled. "Yeah, you've got a title to defend, right?"

Yuki ducked his head again, almost a bow. "I've been doing all right." He frowned at his knees. "It's not like normal stress. I'm used to that. I think... Ash-sa
—
um, Ash... I think it's a ghost."

"All right." Ash nodded, pen poised. "What have you been experiencing?"

"Little things, at first." Yuki's mouth pulled in a way that was more frown than pout. "My keepsakes wouldn't be quite where I left them. I would put away some groceries, go to another room, and come back to find them lined up on the counter."

Ash jotted down the basics. "Has it gotten violent?"

Yuki blanched. "What? No! They... can they really do that? Does it turn into a monster?"

"They can." Ash gave a cautious laugh, trying to downplay it. "Never anything too serious, not like a monster or goblin, so don't worry about that. But now that I'm on the job, there are safeguards we can take to prevent that."

Yuki gave a small sigh and his shoulders dropped. He tipped his head onto one palm, giving Ash a sidelong grin that was so relieved Ash had to smile back. "Thank goodness."

"So, what can you tell me about when this started?" Ash walked through a few possibilities with Yuki, pen at the ready, but Yuki shook his head and shrugged at each prospect.

"I'm not sure when or where things started for sure." Yuki bit his lip and looked up through his lashes at Ash. "I mean, there were a lot of little things but I can't remember a specific instance that was that start. Between finals and Nationals, I have a lot on my mind."

Ash jotted down the potential stressors as something worth looking into. Some of the unquiet spirits he'd encountered in Japan had been stressed to the point of breakdown during life. "Can you give me a list of places you've been at over the last two weeks to a month?"

Yuki laughed. He raised a hand, starting with the thumb as he counted. "Rink, gym, apartment, corner conbini."

"That's it?" Ash's brows rose. At twenty, he would have expected Yuki to be out on town every other night.

"That's it," Yuki confirmed. "I'm an athlete in top form. I don't have much of a social life."

"Nowhere else, though?" Ash wasn't sure whether to be incredulous or sad. He knew a lot of young Japanese kids were driven, but he knew plenty of so-called slackers, too. Appreciating life for what it was had become an important part of their world view.

"The subway?" Yuki frowned, propping his chin on a hand.

Ash nodded, writing that down. The line between the rink or gym and Yuki's apartment would be easy to investigate. "Anything else? Hospitals, graveyards? Someplace where someone might have died?"

"No." Yuki's voice rose. "How would I know that?"

"Well, you wouldn't, necessarily." Ash raised his hand and gave him an affable smile. "Unless you saw it on the news, or something. Tell me if you remember anything else, okay?"

Yuki ducked his head and sat back in his chair, peering sidelong at Ash again.

"Is it all right if I observe you for a while?" Ash felt foolish asking it, but figured for politeness's sake it had to be said. "I'll be trailing you like a bodyguard, I guess, but I want to see if anything comes up. Asami and I agreed it would be better if you tell people I'm a photographer, to give people a reason for why you've suddenly got a big foreigner following you around."

"That's fine." Yuki straightened, expression composed.

Ash tucked his notebook away. "Then I'll let you get back to it."

Yuki gave his knees two quick pats and leapt to his feet. Ash could only envy the energy as he rose more sedately. There wasn't even a decade between them but Yuki launched into motion like a coiled spring. He followed as Yuki returned to the rink. Asami materialized as Yuki reached the hip-height door that opened onto the ice. She took his skate covers and patted his shoulder.