My Songbird's Dream

27. As snow dances

January, 1945
Occupied Seoul

Elder Sato stormed through the front gates of the sprawling estate, fury still etched on his weathered features. Dachi trailed reluctantly behind, peering over his shoulder as if the night's gathering ghosts still pursued them.

As soon as the intricately carved doors of the house closed behind them, Elder Sato rounded on his son, after he placed on a robe.

"How dare you let that impertinent Park whelp make fools of us!" His palm cracked viciously across Dachi's cheek before the younger man could react. "Have I taught you nothing of retaining face against challengers?"

Dachi held up placating hands. "It was merely an overdramatic musical act at the gathering. I hardly think—"

He was cut off by another vicious slap, head whipping to the side. Elder Sato loomed over him, apoplectic. "Excuses reveal the incompetence of a failed heir! No true Sato son would let an enemy publicly humiliate him so easily!"

The old man shoved Dachi hard against the carved doorframe. "You continually fail our proud lineage! I gave you free rein to handle that lounge singer as you saw fit. Now she dares resurface to shame us further?"

Elder Sato scoffed disappointingly, "What ruin have you brought on us, letting that foreign witch slip away alive years ago? Too inept to silence her properly back then so now she haunts and taints this family again!" 

Dachi averted his eyes, jaw clenched under his sire's blistering contempt. He could smell sake and old sweat radiating off Elder Sato's elegant robes preparing for yet another long evening at the geisha house. How convenient to ignore one's own hypocrisy and flaws while decrying others'..

Perhaps Dachi's bitter thoughts showed too plainly, for Elder Sato's already ruddy features purpled further. He seized his son by the starched shirtfront, spittle flying. "You dare judge me, ungrateful bastard? When you lack capability providing even the most basic heir? Both you useless children continually embarrass and fail me!"

His gnarled hands trembled with the urge to throttle the composed young face he had come to despise - a constant reminder mocking his impotence and ruinous losses over badly bungled business deals. Deals that left his progeny equally eunuchs when it came to cementing the family power and security Elder Sato had sacrificed everything to attain over his long, ruthless life.

With immense effort, the old man mastered the nearly overwhelming urge to simply bash his failure of an heir's head against the teak paneling until all breath was extinguished.

It would solve precious little in the end, he knew bitterly. Releasing his chokehold, Elder Sato flung the coughing son contemptuously aside without another glance. He stared off broodingly instead. There remained too many troubling unknowns around that singer's staged spectacle tonight.

"Find out how that foreign witch knows songs from our city's elite lounges," Elder Sato commanded sharply, straightening his disheveled collar. "Clearly someone has been welcoming her amongst proper society behind our backs..."

He speared Dachi with a cutting glare. "Uncover who taught her former repertoire and I may yet tolerate you as my successor. Fail again though..." The malicious threat simmered ominously between them.

Dachi hid his sneer of disgust in a low, mocking bow.
Leaving the disgraced son in a crumpled heap of expensive silks, Elder Sato stormed towards his private study to pour himself a generous glass of imported alcohol. The liquor seared raw down his throat, but could never fully wash the lingering aftertaste of humiliation from his mouth...

January, 1945
Occupied Seoul

Makeup smeared purplish beneath her red-rimmed eyes as Etta sat huddled on tremulous legs. Her robe wrapped tight, yet she still trembled slightly from goosebumps upon remembering the earlier performance.