He pulls out his phone, but Jae-Hyun abruptly sits up before he can make good on that threat.
Norio jumps at his sudden recovery, and Kristal falls back on her bottom.
But then she immediately takes Jae-Hyun by the hand. “Are you okay? Did you break anything with that fall?”
It is a valid question. A normal human Jae-Hyun’s age would’ve certainly broken a hip after such an unexpected crumple.
But Jae-Hyun remains silent under her concerned gaze.
I remember how long it had taken Satomi to speak after she had assumed possession of Koyamo’s body at that fateful meeting with my father. And I conclude out loud, “Possession does not appear to be an easy feat. I believe it is taking him some time to access the body’s voice box.”
At my words, Kristal drops his hand.
“Oh my Santa,” she says, her voice breathless with shock.
I believe she is beginning to understand who Jae-Hyun really is. What he really is.
But Norio becomes so frustrated, he switches to Japanese to demand imperiously, “You will tell me what is going on here!”
He sounds much like our dead father, even though Kazuo wasn’t truly blood-related to either of us, thanks to our mother’s infidelity.
When I was younger, I had cowered at that commanding tone when Kazuo used it on me. But now, I stand up to it, “There is much to explain, Norio-oniisan. But it will take that much longer if you do not remain calm. And silent. Perhaps you should take a seat and not talk again until the explanation has concluded.”
Norio glares at me, obviously not appreciating having his imperious tone mirrored back to him, even with an older brother honorific attached to his name. But in the end, he must be more curious than insulted. He goes to sit at the table covered in drawing materials.
I wait for my brother to take his seat before turning back to Jae-Hyun.
“Are you recovered then?” I asked, my voice dripping with contempt.
Jae-Hyun regards me, his eyes glittering with amusement. “I should’ve guessed it would be you who would find me after all of these years. The younger son who was such a sensation among all those house spirits.”
He forces a smile onto the face of his host body. “You should’ve heard how they talked about you after they realized you could see them. They vied to serve you and to have conversations with you. They were so happy to be acknowledged by any human, even if you were only a small child. You see, they were weak spirits. Killed by their Nakamura masters on a whim, not like me. I was a Nakamura samurai who had died in battle, fighting for my emperor. I was a worthy male, so strong I was able to pass my seed into a woman even while using a host body.”
Jae-Hyun puffs up a bit as he speaks, sticking out his chest. But then his expression softens and his gaze falls on Norio, who’s staring at him from his seat, his mouth dropped open in shock.
“I died before I could take a wife and have children,” he tells the both of us. “You two are the greatest gifts your mother could have given me. And though you grew up unaware of who your true father was, I can see much of myself in the both of you
“So we are Nakamuras after all…” I should be surprised by this news, but I’m not. The revelation of the caretaker as our father had always seemed….odd. He was small and spry, while both Norio and I were tall and covered in lean muscle. I remember thinking that we looked more like the man we’d assumed was our father than the caretaker Kazuo executed in front of us.
But looking upon the ghost earlier, there was no mistaking our connection. I could see many of both Norio’s and my features etched across his young face.
I think of my father, who had been so proud of his samurai lineage, he’d burned with secret resentment about having to pass Norio and I off as Nakamuras. When Kazuo had married my mother, their parents had made sure to mention that both the bride and groom came from samurai lineage in the announcements.
Kazuo’s marriage to my mother had been meant as a corrective to his first one to Tetsuro’s mother, a Chinese woman he had married for love. By commanding Kazuo to take a young bride of such excellent lineage the second time around, our grandfather had decreed that his next heirs would be exemplary.
How disappointed my father had been when he found out that we were not his sons at all. Without telling us why, he had belittled, manipulated, and commanded us without mercy or regard. If not for Satomi’s possession of Koyamo during their meeting, there is no doubt I would currently be residing in Tokyo, married to the woman he had hand-picked for me.