Chapter Text
There was a knot in my stomach as my plane was landing. I mean, I just crossed the Pacific Ocean to be with my new family, no biggie. My dad decided to remarry a lady some five thousand miles away, forcing me to leave the country and city I’ve been living for sixteen years.
The thing is, I really like Hanako-san, my new stepmom. She’s good to my dad; she makes him happy. I’ve never seen my old man smile like that for the past ten years. And she’s very nice to me, very accommodating even though I have a very shitty personality.
And did I mention that Hanako-san had three kids? Even though she’d never been married? That all her kids are adopted and unrelated to her? Yeah, she really is a nice, independent woman. Though I don’t know what she saw with my dad in the five times they met.
Yes, five times. That’s how long it took for them to decide to marry. Three times Hanako-san visited Japan to meet with my father, and two times dad went to US to look for a job and meet Hanako-san’s boys.
They were all there to greet me when I landed. Sleepy, Dopey, and Doc, I call them. They’re my new stepbrothers.
“Kazuya!”
Even if I hadn’t heard my stepmom squeal my name, I wouldn’t have missed them. Hanako-san was making her two youngest boys hold up this big sign that said welcome home, Kazuya! Everybody getting off my flight was walking by, going ‘Aw, look how cute’, smiling at me in this sickening way.
“Okay,” I said, walking up to them fast. “You can put the sign down now.”
The brothers were just grinning at me over the stupid sign. Dopey because he’s too dumb to know any better, Doc because ― well, I guess he’s just happy to see me. He’s just weird that way.
Sleepy, the eldest, just stood there, looking… well, sleepy.
“How was your flight, kiddo?” dad took my bag and slung it on his own shoulders.
See, my dad and I never really got along these past ten years. But the miracle of love made him warm up to me again so we could mend up our broken relationship. Most of the time, we just had this comfortable silence around the house.
“Great, the weather’s good. Well, I have four more bags.” I said in English, which made Hanako smile, meaning it’s pretty good. Although I still have trouble with my r’s and l’s.
“Four?” Hanako-san pretended she was shocked. “What do you think you’re doing? Moving in or something?”
“Kaz,” Doc said all enthusiastically. “Kaz, did you notice that as you were landing, the tail of the plane kicked up a little? That’s from an updraft.”
Doc, Hanako-san’s youngest kid, is fourteen, but he’s going on about forty. Just like his two older brothers, he’s also Japanese and can revert to his mother tongue with ease. He’s also pretty smart. I decided Doc might be useful to have around, homework-wise, even if I am two years older than him.
“Oh, Kaz, I’m so glad you’re here. You’re just going to love the house! Wait until you’ve seen your room. Toku’s fixed it up so nice…”
On my dad’s second visit, they spent weeks looking for a house big enough for all kids to have their own rooms, finally settling on this huge house in Carmel Hills. They were only able to afford it because of its dilapidated state and this construction company my dad was hired at fixed it up at this big discount rate.
For some reason, Dopey, opened his mouth and went, ‘Do you like the sign?’ in that stupid voice of his. I can’t believe he’s my age. He’s on the school wrestling team, so what can you expect? All he ever thinks about is choke holds and body-building protein shakes.
“Yeah, great sign. Can we go? I wanna pick up my bags before someone else does.” Yanking the sign out of his meaty hands and holding it down.
“Alright, let’s get your bags.” Dad said, then raising his voice, he called, “Satoru, come on. We’re going to get Kazuya’s bags.”
He had to call Sleepy by name, since he looked as if he’d fallen asleep standing up. I asked my dad once if the guy had narcolepsy or a drug habit, and he was like, ‘No, why would you say that?’ like the guy doesn’t just stand there blinking all the time, never saying a word to anyone.
Wait, that’s not true.
He did say something to me once. He said “Hey, are you in a gang?”
He asked me that at the wedding when he caught me standing outside sneaking a cigarette. Give me a break, alright? I was in a lot of stress. It was my first and only cigarette ever. And I didn’t even get to fucking light it.
And don’t get me wrong about Satoru. At 187cm with jet black hair and dark blue eyes, he’s probably what you would call hottie. I heard he’s a senior in high school and a pitcher on their baseball team. But he’s not the shiniest rock in the garden, if you know what I mean.
“I’ll drive.” Dopey announced suddenly, starting for the driver’s seat of this huge utility vehicle we were approaching.”
“No, your father will drive.” Hanako-san said firmly. I flinched a little, with them referring to my dad as their father. Seeing as these guys had never had any father figure before, so I guess it’s cool.
“Aw, Mom. How’m I ever going to pass the test if you never let me practice?”
“You can practice in the Rambler. That goes for you too, Kaz.”
This startled me. “What goes for me, too?”
“You can practice driving in the Rambler. But only if there’s someone with a valid license in the passenger seat.” She waggled her finger.
I just blinked up at her. “I can’t drive.”
Dopey let out a big hyena laugh. “You can’t drive?” he then elbowed his brother, who was leaning against the side of the truck. “Hey, Satoru, he can’t drive!”
“It isn’t at all uncommon, You-chan,” Doc interjected, “for a native Tokyoite to not have a driver’s license. Don’t you know that Tokyo City boasts a massive transit system, with average daily ridership of 7.6 million passengers a day, providing 9 train lines covering 195 kilometers of track between 179 stations?”
Everybody looked at Doc. Then my father said, very carefully, “I never kept a car in the city.”
“Don’t worry Kaz, we’ll get you enrolled in a driver’s ed course right away. You can take it and catch up to You-chan in no time.” Hanako-san chirped happily.
I looked at Dopey. Never in a million years had I ever expected that someone would suggest that I needed to catch up to You-chan in any capacity whatsoever.
But I could see I was in for a lot of surprise.
As we were driving to the house, Hanako-san launched into a detailed account of the school to which I was being sent. The same school that the boys attended, Seido Mission School, which was founded in the 1800s, and a huge adobe mission that attracts 20,000 tourists per year.
I wasn’t actually listening. My interest in school had always been zero. As long as there’s baseball to play, I figure I’d survive anywhere. I wasn’t named as the best catcher of my generation for nothing, y’know?
I was still distracted by the memory of our loss ― we were just one step away from senbatsu ― when it hit me.
“Wait a minute, when was this school built?” grappling for a semblance of normalcy in my voice.
“The eighteenth century.” Doc replied. “The mission system―”
“Eighteenth century? Eighteenth century?” I asked, trying to squash the rising panic in my chest.
My father must have heard it though, for he turned in his seat and said soothingly.
“Now Kaz, we discussed this. I told you there’s a year’s waiting list at Inashiro, and you don’t want an all-boy’s school so Ichidai is out. Hanako-san heard rumors of gang violence and drug abuse in Ugumori High. There's no school left without a baseball team―”
“Eighteenth century?” I could feel my heart pounding, as if I’d been running. “That’s like three hundred years old!”
“I don’t get it.” Hanako-san wanted to know. “What’s so bad about eighteenth century?”
“Kaz has never been very wild about old buildings.” Dad supplies.
“Oh… then he’s not going to like the house.”
I gripped the back of her headrest, then demanded in a tight voice. “Why? Why am I not gioing to like the house?”
I saw why a minute after we pulled in. The house was huge, Victorian style, and impossibly pretty. Three stories high and constructed entirely from wood, not the glass-and-steel stuff that houses around it were made of, and has a great view of the Pacific.
And I did not want to set foot in it.
If it hadn’t been for the fact that Hanako-san made dad happy, I would have put my foot down and said no to the whole moving thing. But you couldn’t look at them and not be able to tell that they’re smitten for each other.
What kind of son would I be?
Hanako-san had proudly told me, as my dad and stepbrothers were taking my bags out of the car, that this house had quite a reputation. Gunfights occurred over card games and women, you could even see one of the bullet holes framed.
“I bet we’re the only house in this neighbourhood with a nineteenth-century bullet hole in it!” she gushed.
My dad kept glancing towards me and gauging my reaction, I was honestly a bit irked for him not warning me. I could guess why he didn’t. If he did, I would probably refused to move, look for parttime jobs, live in the school dorm, and waited for pro teams to scout me.
But dad wanted to make it right, this time. He wanted us to have a taste of proper family that we haven’t had the time to experience for ten years. So yeah, I’ll give him what he wants.
The house was beautiful inside and outside, with bright yellow and cream paint to make it more lively. Most were masculine things, like the surfboards near the garage door, but the flowers and plants had a feminine touch to it.
Something we missed out for a decade.
Few of my dad’s things were there; the family katana was displayed near this huge fireplace, for which he paid a hefty amount to ship because he couldn’t bear to part with it; the steel statuette of a fox god at the bookshelf along with his books, and some of my baby pictures hanging on the living room wall alongside the three brothers.
“Come, Kaz! Come see your room!” Hanako-san gushed. I couldn’t help but shudder a little.
My room was upstairs, just above the roof of the front porch ― the room with the best view in the house. When I saw how much trouble they’d gone through to make the room feel like home to me, I felt bad. I really did.
Okay, this isn’t so bad. So far, you’re in the clear. Maybe it’ll all be alright, maybe no one was ever unhappy in this house. Maybe all those people who got shot deserved it, I thought to myself as I surveyed the room.
Seeing my contented expression, Hanako-san beamed and gestured to the bay windows with a window seat that dad had installed for me. It brought my attention to it. And saw that someone was already sitting in it.
Someone who was not related to me, or to Sleepy, Dopey, or Doc.
I turned toward Hanako-san, to see if she had seen the intruder. She hadn’t, even though he was right there, right in front of her face. My dad hadn’t seen him either. All he saw was my face.
I guess my expression betrayed me, since his own fell, and he said with a sad sigh, “Oh Kaz, not again.”
I guess I should explain. I’m not your typical sixteen-year-old boy.
I seem normal enough, I guess. I don’t do drugs, or drink, or smoke ― well, except this one time when my stepbrother caught me. I don’t have any piercing, nor tattoos; hell, I’ve never even dyed my hair. Taking into account my boots and leather jacket, I don’t wear excessive black. I’m a typical Japanese teenager.
Except, of course, for the fact that I can talk to the dead.
I should probably say that the dead talk to me. I mean, I don’t go around initiating these conversations. In fact, I try to avoid the whole thing as much as possible. It’s just that sometimes they won’t let me.
The ghosts, I mean.
I don’t think I’m crazy, but I might seem crazy to some. Certainly, the majority of kids in my old neighbourhood thought I was nuts, that’s why they bullied me in middle school for thinking I was nuts, not the fact that my baseball skills are head and shoulders above them.
I’ve had school counsellors sicced on me more than once; sometimes I even think it might be simpler just locking me up. But even in University of Tokyo Hospital ― that’s where they lock up the crazy people in Tokyo ― I probably wouldn’t be safe from the ghosts.
They’d find me.
They always do.
So I turned my back on the ghost sitting on my window seat and said, “Dad, the house is great, the room is great. Everything is fine. Thank you so much.”
I could tell he didn’t believe me. I know he suspects something’s up with me, he just didn’t know what.
“Well, I’m glad you like it. I was worried. I mean, I know how you get about… well, old places.”
Old places are worst for me because the older the building is, the greater the chance that someone died in it and was still hanging around, looking for justice or waiting to deliver some final message to someone.
Imagine the endless pile of excuses my dad had to make up just for me to avoid going into school trips to shrines or historical places. Or else I’d be a disturbance, spending a great amount of time in guidance office.
My dad’s a nice guy. Okay, he might have missed being a father to me for the past decade, but he’s not the kind to punish me before I gave an explanation. He never raised his voice, doesn’t get angry easily. These boys have no idea how lucky they were.
I wished my dad had a normal son. Instead, he got me.
Sleepy and Dopey went away to hit some waves before dinner, followed by Doc muttering about some experiment. Hanako-san went away to start the barbecue since we’re having surf and turf in honor of my arrival.
See, she’s a great cook, something my late mother wasn’t. I wanted to help her, but she just shooed me away. Besides, I have to deal with the entity in my window seat.
“Is it really alright, Kaz? I know it’s a big change, asking a lot of you―”
“Dad, it’s fine. Really. And I would be fine anywhere as long as it has baseball in it.”
“I mean, asking you to leave Tokyo. It’s selfish of me, I know. Things haven’t been easy, especially for you. Especially since Mommy died.”
My father liked to think that the reason I’m not like the traditional teenage boy when he was my age was because I lost my mom at an early age. He blames her death for everything, from the fact I had no friends to the fact that I sometimes engage in extremely weird behaviour.
So maybe it wasn’t unusual for my dad to be sitting there on my bed, talking about “starting anew” and all of that. It’s kind of weird that he was doing it with this ghost watching us. But whatever, I’m going to give him that.
It was what he wanted, after all.
Fresh start.
“Well, I guess if you don’t want help unpacking, I’ll go see how Hanako-san’s doing. I have to help with the grill. Good to see you, kiddo.” My dad said, after running out of you-won’t-make-friends-unless-you-project-a-friendly-demeanor speech.
He went away and I shut the door quietly behind him. I waited until I couldn’t hear his steps anymore, and then I turned around.
“All right,” I said to the presence on the window seat. “Who the hell are you?”