Training 3: The 36 Questions

"Alright you two, time for today's trust-building adventure!" Siwanna's booming voice shattered the peaceful twilight as he came bounding over, dramatically rustling a bundle of papers.

Hank eyed him with fond exasperation. "Please don't tell me this involves more mortifying dance routines, Si. I'm not sure Jamela's heart can take another salsa extravaganza."

He threw a mischievous wink Jamela's way, the ghost of a lopsided grin playing at the corners of his mouth. She felt her cheeks warm despite herself, cursing her body's insistent physical response to the man's easy charm.

Get a grip, she scolded internally. He's still basically just a particularly attractive uhhh not alive person? No matter what heated salsa moves might try to convince you otherwise.

Siwanna, blessedly oblivious to the tension, let out a hearty chuckle. "No dancing this time, my friends! Today's exercise requires you to strip down in a far more...intimate way."

The suggestive gaze he shot their way made Jamela's eyes go wide. Hank, to his credit, barely batted an eye - though the tips of his ears went faintly pink.

"Down to our past again, eh Si?" he deadpanned. "I keep telling you, the Auckland naked trust-falls were a one-time thing for me."

Jamela sputtered, torn between amusement and outright mortification at the idea. Siwanna's randy cackle echoed across the park as he shook his head.

"Dear me, no - I meant stripping down your innermost selves, not your undergarments!" He held up the stack of papers with a dramatic flourish. "Behold - the iconic 36 questions that make strangers fall in love!"

The bewildered look Hank and Jamela traded in that moment spoke volumes. Siwanna pressed on regardless, that mad gleam never dimming.

"This scientifically proven set of queries is designed to rapidly accelerate feelings of intimacy and vulnerability between two people. By the end, you should be feeling closer than the closest of siblings!"

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Jamela forcibly restrained the urge to smack her own forehead in dismay.

"You cannot be serious," she muttered through gritted teeth. "This feels like some...teenage sleepover truth circle nonsense."

"Precisely!" Siwanna exclaimed cheerfully. "Which is why it's the perfect exercise for you two emotionally constipated relationship novices."

For once, Hank looked just as pained as Jamela felt. He raked a hand through his perpetually disordered hair, mouth downturned in a scowl.

"With all due respect, Si, this kind of...forced emotional experiment seems a bit much," he hedged carefully. "Even for our unorthodox training methods."

"Pah!" Siwanna waved a dismissive hand. "You two have been tiptoeing around each other for ages. A little manufactured intimacy will be good for your platonic psyches!"

His gaze slid meaningfully toward Jamela. "And who knows? Perhaps it will help resolve some of that...unresolved tension."

Heat flooded her cheeks again as she resolutely avoided Hank's questioning look. There was no way their boss could know about her newly flourishing and wholly inappropriate crush, could he?

Before she could protest further, Siwanna was shoving the stack of questions into Hank's hands with an air of finality.

"The name of the game, kiddos, is honesty and vulnerability. No deflecting, no holding back. Whichever of you finishes last has to buy the other a consolation prize."

He fixed them with a pointed look, daring them to argue further. Hank wet his lips, seeming to consider protesting...before letting out a resigned sigh.

"Alright, alright. We'll play along, Si," he relented. "But I reserve the right to veto any questions I deem too risqué or intrusive, deal?"

Siwanna clapped him heartily on the shoulder with a boisterous laugh. "Have it your way, boy! Now let's see those emotional floodgates open up already."

Hank pondered the question for a moment, then a wistful look came over his face. "You know, as silly as it might sound, my dream job would be to open an Afterlife Bar."

Jamela raised an eyebrow skeptically. "A bar? For ghosts?"

But Hank's eyes had taken on a faraway gleam. "Not just any bar though. A sanctuary of sorts, where lost souls can find community, solace, and maybe even guidance to finally move on to the White Door and their next stage of the afterlife."

He leaned forward, gesturing animatedly as he described his vision. "Imagine a cozy, dimly-lit space with overstuffed armchairs and the faint sound of Mhorlum playing. Ghostly patrons could belly up to the bar and find a sympathetic ear to share their stories and lingering regrets."

Jamela found herself captivated by the thoughtful passion in his voice, the warmth in his eyes. This wasn't just some silly idea - it was a calling, a noble pursuit that spoke to the depth of Hank's spirit.

"Maybe I could even partner with psychics and spiritual guides," he continued, "To help provide counsel to those trapped in the in-between. Create a haven for souls adrift, you know?"

He met Jamela's gaze then, and she felt her breath catch at the sincerity she found there.

In that moment, she saw all of him - the humor, the intelligence, the fundamental decency that made him such a valued friend and partner.

And something else too - a profound empathy and longing to ease the suffering of fellow wanderers. A tenderness she hadn't fully appreciated until now.

Siwanna cleared his throat, pulling them from the private moment. "Well, I don't know about you two, but I'd be a loyal patron of Hank's ghost bar!..." He chuckled heartily. "Your turn next, Jamela!"

Hank's warm gaze lingered on her face. "What about you? What's your dream?"

Jamela felt herself flush under his rapt attention. How could she follow an aspiration so beautiful and selfless?

But she took a breath and thought of the bright-eyed orphans who'd inspired her all those years ago. "My dream is to start a foundation that provides education opportunities to underprivileged children..."

As she spoke, describing her vision for tutoring programs, scholarships, and community outreach, Hank listened with that same look of wonder and respect. When she finished, he reached out and squeezed her hand.

"That's incredible, Jamela. Really. After we get this curse situation sorted, I'd love to help in any way I can to make your dream a reality."

His sincerity warmed her to her core. In that moment, Jamela knew she was well and truly falling for this man - his humor, his conviction, his compassion. All of it.

She squeezed his hand back, holding his gaze. "I'd like that. Thank you, Hank."

Siwanna watched them with a satisfied grin. "Well, well! Looks like these 'forced intimacy' questions are working their magic after all!"

Siwanna cleared his throat, breaking the charged moment between Hank and Jamela. "Alright my lovebirds, on to the next question!"

He rifled through the stack dramatically. "Let's go deeper, shall we? What is your greatest regret?"

Hank's expression turned somber. As an Afterlife Bureau consultant, his regrets were tied to the cases he couldn't resolve.

"My biggest regret is losing Prin." Hank said, voice heavy with remorse. "She was a tormented spirit I failed to guide to the White Door."

A hush fell over the group as Hank continued, "Prin died tragically young, and her spirit was incredibly anguished and lost."

He shook his head, pained by the memory. "No matter what I tried, I couldn't ease her suffering enough to let go and accept passing through the White Door. Eventually, she disappeared, her spirit dissipating."

Jamela's eyes went wide. "Dissipating? You mean...?"

"Gone." Hank's jaw tightened. "Completely ceased to exist. It's the worst fate for a wayward soul."

He looked away, anguish etched on his face. "What's even worse...I've recently learned Prin's spirit may have become an earth-bound haunting, attaching itself to her old apartment complex in the Phra Khanong district."

Jamela's hand found his arm, offering what silent comfort she could. The thought of this poor girl's spirit being trapped, tormenting the living out of her anguish...it was unbearable.

Hank managed a tight smile, covering her hand briefly with his own. "That's why the Afterlife Bar concept means so much to me. A sanctuary where anguished souls like Prin could find solace, guidance...maybe even the will to finally pass through that White Door."

An aching silence fell over them. Even Siwanna seemed uncharacteristically lacking in bravado.

Finally, he spoke up, voice gentle. "You did everything you could, Hank. And your idea for the bar...it could truly help prevent other souls from suffering Prin's unimaginable fate."

He turned to Jamela, almost hesitantly. "And you, my dear? What weighs heaviest on your heart?"

Jamela took a steadying breath as the weight of Hank's tragic confession about Prin hung in the air. How could she follow something so heartbreaking?