Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

HIRO

Tokyo was a breath of fresh air after all the chaos. We went to Nikko to see a beautiful waterfall and a gorgeous shrine. We also managed to do a day trip to Mt. Fuji and get pictures of the pagoda in front of the mountain. There were no killers, no mishaps. Absolutely nothing but bliss. And every day, Nakamura sent a text to both of us that simply said, “Still kicking” or some other ridiculous nonchalant thing. We even got a picture of his hamster sitting on a knife and him lying face down on the floor in front of it.

He also informed us, off the record and likely illegally, that Charlotte had confessed to years of abuse and, with her daughter’s help, they were able to build quite the case against Tom, her husband.

She’d explained that when they’d gotten in the elevator in the subway station, he started beating on her. She said that as she attempted to get away, her purse strap got caught around his neck. And something inside her just told her to pull.

A part of me wonders if she’d have gotten away with it if it weren’t for us, but if it weren’t for us, she’d likely have jumped off the top of the hotel. Hopefully, things work out between Charlotte and her daughter because I think they don’t realize how much they need each other.

But now that we’re back in Kyoto, we have one more day before we leave for home. A part of me is eager to get back but another part of me already misses this place. Once we forget about all the chaos we’d run into, there’s something so unique and wonderful about it.

“We’ll definitely need to come here again sometime soon,” I say. “With less killing involved.”

“Don’t hold your breath on the second part of that, but we should be able to handle the first,” Maddox teases as we walk down the street toward the café Nakamura asked us to meet at. He’s waiting just inside the door and as he stares at the menu, I realize that the ghosts with him aren’t as thick. There are only about three or four compared to the twenty or so I’d seen before. Does that mean something he’s done has worked or helped? They almost seem disinterested in him and aren’t clinging to him. Instead, they’re wandering a bit.

We get our drinks and find an empty table in a quieter area.

“Well, how many killers did you guys tackle up in Tokyo?” Nakamura asks.

“None, surprisingly,” I say. “We had an extremely normal time. We did some sightseeing. I even read a book for a little bit. There was a wild lack of chaos.”

“You know that Japan is generally a pretty safe country to travel to, right?” Nakamura asks.

“Oh, it’s not Japan, it’s us. Trouble finds us,” I assure him.

Maddox shakes his head. “Trouble finds Hiro .”

“Yet you found me, so trouble must find you too,” I say.

Nakamura nods in response to that. “Makes sense. So is my fan club still following me?”

“Surprisingly, not as many are.”

“Must be getting bored of my handsome face, then.” He rubs his clean-shaven chin.

“Or maybe it means you’re doing something that has deterred the person from attacking you,” Maddox says.

He shrugs and grins. “I don’t know, my buddy says I’m just using it as an excuse to take a bath with him. I told him I can’t be alone at any point, even when he’s bathing, and so far, it’s worked out quite well for me.”

“I should have used that on Maddox when we first met.”

Nakamura laughs. “Well, I’m glad my future isn’t quite so ominous.”

“It doesn’t mean you can start relaxing. It could change in a second,” I warn him.

“I understand. So, Maddox, that text you saw… doesn’t exist.”

“I saw it,” Maddox says stubbornly.

“Not saying you didn’t, I’m just saying that all traces of it are gone. Which is weird because she never had contact with the phone. This is… between the three of us, but there was no sign of the message on her phone… and no sign of a message on the phone we found in the park, either. They began to question if there was possibly a messaging system that was hidden behind an app, but they opened every single one and no messages popped up.”

“What did Charlotte say?” Maddox asks.

Nakamura leans back in his chair. “So you definitely didn’t hear from me that Charlotte claimed to have no idea what was being talked about when we inquired about the message. Yet the interviewer mentioned that they witnessed a shift in her expression when it was brought up before she quickly denied its existence.”

“So you’re thinking both of them were messaging someone?”

“I don’t know.” Nakamura runs his thumb over the edge of his cup. “It sounds too coincidental, doesn’t it? Two people who were both in contact with you two were messaged by someone who seemed to acknowledge their crime, yet both messages disappeared.”

“But the department isn’t skeptical that we mistook what we saw?” Maddox asks.

“No, something’s not right with it. I think we all know it, and no one is pointing fingers at you two.”

“Well, I’d love to be kept up to date if you can. I promise my lips are sealed. No one will know we’ve been discussing things,” Maddox says.

“But I don’t think you can relax just because the ghosts are less fixated on you. That could change in a second,” I remind Nakamura.

“I got it. You two be safe as well. It was nice meeting both of you, even if all you did was cause there to be way more paperwork.”

“Oh, you’re blaming us now?” I tease.

“He can blame me all he wants,” Natalie says. “He’s handsome and funny. What do you think, Keaton? Right?”

Keaton eyes the officer then looks over at Reggie who is blatantly waiting for his reaction. “Right,” is all Keaton says, but the look of shock on Reggie’s face is enough to make Natalie cackle.

“You two crack me up,” she says.

“K-Keaton,” Reggie whispers.

Keaton shrugs. “Natalie just asked if she was right, and I know to always answer yes,” he says with a look of innocence.

“No, the answer is no. How… how dare you?”

I ignore that drama and finish up with Nakamura.

When we reach Rina’s house, I notice my grandma is waiting inside and Yumi is reading a textbook on the couch. Grandma is back to staring at me like I’m some super-interesting circus act. I’m really not sure what is so fascinating about me, but she takes a deep breath and says something to Yumi.

Yumi looks confused. “Grandma wants me to ask you if ‘He’s here.’ She said you’d know what that means.”

“I… would?” I ask, wondering if I’ve missed something. I mean… there’s been a lot going on, and I’m beyond exhausted between the trip, Hikaru, and Charlotte. “Um…”

“She started getting more fixated on you after the Hikaru incident,” Maddox says as it finally clicks what they’re implying.

“Wait… you know?” I ask Grandma. “Did Mom tell you?”

Yumi talks to her before saying, “She said, ‘No. But you’re the same.’”

“Same how?”

“She said, ‘My husband, your grandfather, had the same ability.’”

“My grandfather could see ghosts?” I ask in surprise.

Grandma nods.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me this? Mom… Mom and Dad, they didn’t understand. They never got it. And I just… I hid it because it was strange, and I knew people would judge me for it.”

“You can see… ghosts?” Yumi asks, quite confused, but before either of us can say more, Grandma waves her question off. “Grandma said, ‘My husband thought it was more of a burden. He wanted to live his life pretending like he couldn’t see them, which led to him keeping it from his children and those important in his life. But you have found a way to use it to help people.’”

I’m reeling from this information—from the realization that I’m not the only one in my family who had this ability. My grandpa passed away many years ago, so I was too young to remember meeting him.

“She wants to know if he’s here,” Yumi says.

“Can I see a photo of him?” I ask, guessing I already know the answer to her question but not wanting to get her hopes up if I’m wrong. Yumi quickly goes to retrieve one that she holds out to me. In it is my grandma, looking much younger with the suitcase pusher by her side. But I can’t tell whether she wants him to be here or not. Wouldn’t she have asked me about all of this sooner if she was eager to know? On one hand, it’s always lovely to get to talk to someone who has passed but on the other, it would be hard to know that he hasn’t moved on in what? Over twenty years?

“He’s here,” I say.

“She asked if she could talk to him.”

“I could try but I don’t know Japanese. I mean, we could find someone to translate.”

“She said he knows English very well.”

“Does he now?” I ask. “Alright… let me see if he’s in the house.”

Grandma looks so hopeful as Yumi simply looks between us in confusion. I head upstairs and into the bedroom I’ve been staying in only to find the man in question lying on his stomach on the ground looking at a magazine.

“So you know English, do you?” I ask.

He lazily glances back at me. “Never said I didn’t. Get closer so I can flip the page.” He tries to flip it on his own, but it just shifts a bit. Clearly, his superior skills are amplified by my presence. But that’s not what’s important here.

“You… I… you .”

He looks back at me. “Are you going to make it?”

“You never thought to tell me that you were my grandpa ? Or that you spoke English ? And why do you love harassing me?” I ask.

“It’s your fault my daughter decided to live over there instead of coming back here.”

“My fault!? You’re claiming that it’s my fault from in her womb? I didn’t make her decide to stay in the US with my father!”

“I told her not to go over there and then she goes over and gets knocked up and then leaves the rest of us here.”

“You’re mad at me?” I ask in shock.

“Not really.”

“You’re so confusing.”

“Good.”

I must be close enough that he can turn the page because he does so, but he seems more interested in me than the magazine now.

“Your mother never taught you how to play chess… and she never taught you how to speak Japanese. What did she teach you?”

“How to be nice to others, which she must have gotten from her mom instead of her dad.”

He grins at that. “Good. I always wanted her to be more like her mother.”

“Your wife wants to speak to you.”

“She’s probably just going to tell me I forgot to take out the trash before I died.”

“I know you’re annoyed at my mother for not visiting much… but you guys never visited either,” I say.

He flips to the next page. “You always think you have forever to do something. But forever eventually comes to an end, and often, sooner than you ever imagine. Did she move on?”

“Yeah. After the car crashed, she and my father waited for me… it was a really severe snowstorm and I’m not sure if I could have found my way to help without them. It was really fucking rough knowing they were dead… knowing that their ghosts were with me, knowing that I was leaving their bodies behind in that car as I walked off into the cold while bleeding and terrified. The moment they got me to a house and safe, they left me… and I had nothing. I felt like I’d lost everything in my life.

“I’m not saying I blame my blood relatives. I’m not saying that things should have been different. I’m just saying it was really fucking hard for me,” I admit. “But I’m happy I got to meet all of them, and you, now. I’m happy that I ended up in Patricia’s life and that I’ve grown to love her like a mom. I am happy that, even if you have some kind of vendetta against my suitcase, I get to know you. Now, do you want to talk to your wife?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Sorry you went through all of that. That had to have been awful.”

“I know my grandma was going through a lot during that time with you passing not too long before my mom, and then her getting sick. I promise that I don’t blame anyone for the choices they made.”

“I should have seen you more when I was alive.”

“It’s fine. I was just ranting for a bit. You want to come downstairs? Or do you want her to come up here? Do you need help moving on? Your death was health-related, right? So I’m not sure why you’re still here.”

“I’ll go downstairs with you,” he says before sinking through the floor. I really wish Spite were here to see how seamless that was, so he doesn’t have to wake me at random hours of the night asking to be let in. For a really smart bird, he’s stubborn as fuck.

“You alright?” Maddox asks. He’d just been quietly leaning against the doorframe as I talked but as I head through it, he pulls me into a hug.

“Yeah, I’m good. Honestly.”

“Okay. You know you can always cry, complain, throw a tantrum, whatever you’d like when I’m with you.”

“I know. I have you hooked now,” I say as I show off my ring.

“Kind of looks like you’re the one hooked,” he tells me as he kisses my temple before the two of us head down the stairs.

When we reach the first floor, I realize Rina has joined them as well. They’re now all staring at me like I’m some rare creature when the real rare creature is casually leaning against the wall.

“Uhh… he’s here,” I announce as I wave in that direction. I see that Grandma has her phone working so that it’s immediately translating everything I say into words that she can read.

“Tell her I saw the way she was checking out the guy at her exercise class,” Grandpa says.

“That’s the first thing you choose to say to her?” I ask.

He’s grinning. “Sure is. Tell her I said I’m more handsome.”

“You’re ridiculous,” I retort but I tell her what he said, and she stares at her phone for a second, probably questioning whether it translated wrong, before she starts laughing. I pull out my phone to use the app as well so she can reply to him in Japanese.

“You really can see him?” Rina asks. “I know my mother believes it with her whole heart but… I just… I don’t understand.”

“Yeah.”

“Is this how you knew about Hikaru?” Yumi asks.

“It is. I had a ghost trailing him because he’d been acting strange when we’d gone out to eat… and other things.”

“Tell her that I’m sorry I left so early. That I’m sorry I wasn’t there for so much of her life and that I never did take out that trash,” Grandpa says, which I repeat for her.

She shakes her head, and I glance down at the app to see that she says, “Even if you weren’t there for it all, the moments you were there for were made better because of you. And you definitely left the trash.”

For a while, I help the three of them talk to him. They talk well into the night, to the point where I would do just about anything to get some sleep, but I feel like I can’t rightfully head off to bed. They haven’t gotten to speak to each other in so long and assumed they never would again. How can I take that from them?

When the conversation is slowly beginning to wind down, I look at my grandma. “He’s really good at manipulating things if you want to be able to feel him for a minute.”

She looks surprised but holds her hand out. I grab my grandpa’s hand, forever frozen at the age he died, and press it against her wrinkled hand that has continued to age on without him. I find myself thinking how hard that must be to age as the one you loved was forever stuck in time.

I can tell she’s trying not to cry, but she closes her eyes and wraps her fingers around his hand.

“Thank you,” she says in English. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”