Tokyo Ever After: A Novel (Tokyo Ever After #1)(11)
All eyes are on me again. All the time I need suddenly feels like within the next sixty seconds.
I look at the invitation, chew my lower lip, and contemplate. Allow myself to entertain the idea of Japan, of a father.
It’s definitely risky business.
The upsides: a dad and a country where I might belong, blend in, turn on the television and see someone who looks like me. It would be so nice to walk into a restaurant and not be in the minority. The downside: failure to meet both my father’s expectations and mine. So basically, shrivel and collapse into myself like a dying star. No biggie.
I glance up. Take in everyone’s varying expressions. Mom is wary. Ambassador Saito is hopefully expectant. Noora scowls, whispering, “If you don’t go, I don’t think I ever really knew you.”
Join the club. I’ve never felt like I’ve known myself.
“Do you want some time alone?” Mom asks. She’s already moving toward Ambassador Saito and his team, ready to usher them out the door.
“No,” I say. Mom stops. I look to Ambassador Saito. “I’d like to accept my father’s offer.” Fortune favors the bold. That’s a saying, isn’t it?
“Excellent,” he purrs, then rattles off how excited the Crown Prince will be to hear of my RSVP.
My fingers tap a rhythm against my thighs. Noora hugs the breath out of me. “You won’t regret this.”
I hope not. This must be what standing at the edge of a cliff is like, unsure waters raging below. I’m unsteady and scared and excited—alive and on the verge. I might be destroyed. I might be recreated.
Holy shit. I’m going to Japan.
THE TOKYO TATTLER
The imperial scandal of the century
March 21, 2021
All attention should be on Prime Minister Adachi’s upcoming nuptials, but the bride’s thunder has officially been stolen. Weeks ago, the world’s oldest and most private monarchy was rocked with shocking news: His Imperial Highness Crown Prince Toshihito has fathered an illegitimate child. Even better? She’s been raised in America with no knowledge of her royal roots.
The Imperial Household Agency has remained mum on the matter, only issuing a brief press release after the news broke. When asked about the newest addition, the twin princesses, their Imperial Highnesses Akiko and Noriko (pictured here on a Goodwill Ambassador trip to Peru) refused to comment. They’ve been media-shy since our March 1 article covering the adjustment disorder of their mother, Her Imperial Highness Princess Midori. But everyone is wondering how the twins will handle this new interloper. The two aren’t used to sharing the spotlight.
On the other hand, His Imperial Highness Prince Yoshihito was spotted at the kickoff of Mori Art Museum’s newest exhibit. There, he toasted the new princess and said he was looking forward to meeting her. Three months ago, the prince famously severed ties with the imperial family and moved off their estate. Recently, he returned to the nest after The Imperial Household Agency reportedly cut off his allowance—the Mori event marks his first official duty back.
Now, Her Imperial Highness Princess Izumi is on her way to Japan (pictured here with her mother at the San Francisco International Airport). The Lost Butterfly is coming home at last, which has everyone wondering … just who is this American upstart? How will this girl from small-town America adapt to the glitz and glamour of the imperial family? Is she ready for the royal treatment? Only time will tell …
5
“Did you pack enough underwear?”
“Mom.”
The cute porter loading my luggage onto a cart smirks. We’re outside the San Francisco airport. Yesterday, I kissed Tamagotchi’s smelly face one last time and said goodbye to Noora and the girls. Then, Mom and I drove to the Bay Area to spend the night.
It’s 7 a.m. The skyline is pink and hazy. My flight departs in one hundred and twenty minutes. In less than fourteen hours, I’ll be in Japan, meeting my father. I thought I’d be exhilarated, but now I’m just kind of terrified. At Mom’s continued stare, I whisper furiously, “Yes.”
“What about your mouth guard?”
I hold up my backpack. “In my carry-on.”
“What about the binder Ambassador Saito sent?”
Ah, the binder. Before he returned to Washington, Ambassador Saito hand-delivered a mound of paperwork. Contents included:
1. A very personal and in-depth questionnaire covering everything from height and weight to future dreams and aspirations. It only hurt a little bit to bypass the Japanese box and check the English box for Only Language Spoken. (“No worries,” Ambassador Saito said placidly when I expressed concerns about the language barrier. “The imperial family and their staff are fluent in several languages, English among them. A tutor will also be provided to help assimilate you to all things Japanese, language included.”)
2. A twenty-page NDA prohibiting me from disclosing financial, personal, private, and any architectural information regarding the royal family and its residences—so basically, Fight Club rules.
3. A dossier (the alleged binder) with a flight itinerary and family history, including: a who’s who of the current line, assorted genealogies, personal profiles, official duties, public activities, estates, foreign relations, and the role of the Imperial Household Agency, plus various important staff members. I’ve got big plans to review it in the air. Of course, I’ve procrastinated reading it. Some things never change. It’s not like I’m avoiding it or anything because I’m secretly intimidated by my royal cousins’ pedigrees or the fact I’m about to join the oldest monarchy in the world. Not at all.