The Ghost of Joseon and the Moon Rabbit

What's in a name?

"Specter? Gumiho? Heavenly being?" I attempted to categorize him, words hanging in the tense air between us.

"Not far off," he responded vaguely, his voice barely more than a whisper.

A shiver ran down my spine, the chill of unease weaving its frosty tendrils around me. Could I have tethered a trickster spirit to myself?

"Uhm... Do you have a name?" I queried, trying to maintain an air of nonchalance.

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet," he recited, his voice melodious, almost charming.

A specter spouting Shakespeare while sprawled across my bed with his arms flung wide – just my luck!

"Will you answer my question?" I asked, my tone betraying my growing impatience.

He made a vague gesture with his hand, as if brushing my question aside.

"It matters little," he said dismissively, "you will find yourself drawn to me, regardless of my nature."

Arrogant spirit. My hand itched to smite him with my dull blade – that might shut him up.

Instead, I took a deep breath and remembered my spiritual mission: aiding troubled souls adrift in this world.

"I still need something to call you by..."

"Yoon," he muttered nonchalantly, not bothering to clarify if it was his first or last name.

He lifted his head, his eyes scrutinizing me. I felt a pang of vulnerability under his intense gaze.

"And what about the noble lady?"

I hesitated, aware of the danger that came with revealing one's name to a spirit.

His gaze traveled over my worn-out white pajamas with yellow prints, then rose to meet my eyes.

"You're not exactly nobility, are you?" He observed, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Ignoring that."

He sat up, his gaze sweeping over the room. He took in the rest of the apartment over my shoulder.

"You're not just lacking in nobility, you seem quite the spinster."

My eyebrows furrowed, and I swished my sword threateningly.

"What did you just say?"

He met my gaze and shrugged.

"Are you suggesting it isn't the truth?"

No, he wasn't wrong. I was a woman of modest origins and decidedly single.

"I don't appreciate your judgement. If you don't like me, you can just leave. It's not like I invited you into my home..."

He took a deep breath, scrutinized me once more, then let out a strange, amused smile. My heart started pounding unexpectedly. Could he be an incubus?

"I think you might grow on me. Except for your grumpy demeanor, of course."

"That's it!" I shouted, swinging my sword in one smooth arc.

With a quick motion, I grabbed his ankles - real, solid, unlike any ghost I'd encountered - and yanked him towards me.

He toppled off the bed with a yelp, but I paid no attention. My best chance was to capitalize on the element of surprise.

In no time, I had dragged him into the hallway of my apartment building. His hanbok had ridden up, and I must admit there was some amusement in watching him squirm helplessly.

I heard a "tsk, tsk, tsk" from behind me and froze, realizing we had an audience.

I turned around to face my elderly neighbor, Mrs. Kim.

I bowed quickly in greeting, to which she simply shook her head.

"You shouldn't treat men like that," she commented.

I blinked, surprised.

"You can see him?"

She shot me a disapproving look, the one she reserved for whenever she thought I was being foolish.

"I may be old, but I'm not blind," she retorted, unlocking her apartment door and disappearing inside.

I turned back to Yoon.

"Other humans can see you."

He rolled his eyes.

"Frankly," he started, "you're quite the inept shaman."

"Well then, why don't you go find another one?"

He got up and shrugged.

"It's just the way it is."

"What do you mean, 'the way it is'?"

"I didn't choose. If I had a choice, I would have picked someone much more pleasant than you."

And without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked back into my apartment.

"Hey!" I called, chasing after him.