Tokyo Ever After: A Novel (Tokyo Ever After #1)(45)



She sniffles.

“Oh my God. Are you crying? If you want me to come home, I will. Why are you crying? Is it because of school? Do you think I’ll miss graduation? I promise I’ll be home for that. Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”

“Oh, it’s not about any of that.” There’s some shuffling, a discreet blowing of the nose. “I don’t really care about classes or graduation, though I’d love to see you in your cap and gown. I just want you to be happy.” She sighs. “I guess I’m finding it hard to share you. I’m not equipped to let you go. This mothering thing is hard, know what I mean?”

I do not, but I can imagine. “Yeah.”

Another sniffle. “I’m being silly. Go to Kyoto.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure. You have my full blessing.”

I exhale a sigh of relief. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Her voice is lighter now. “Also, I want to encourage your independence, but maybe touch base more often?”

“Got it. Will do.” Suddenly, I’m hungry. I pick up the heavy silver fork, nibble on an egg, and look at the crane—it lifts a leg, takes one slow, long step, then launches out of the water. “You know, how much children push their parents away directly correlates to how secure they feel in the relationship.”

“So I’ve done a good job then?”

“Absolutely. The very best.” I lick my fork, feeling calmer, surer. My course is set. I know where I’m headed, at least for now. I settle back and watch as the crane circles once, then disappears into the tree line.





19





Messages


9:17 AM


Me

On my way to Kyoto. Might not be back stateside for a while.

Noora

Jealous. I just ate an entire pizza in my underwear.

Glory

Whoa.

Hansani

A lot to take in here.

Me

I miss you guys.

Noora

Ditto. Japan has stolen my best friend. Totally heinous anus.

Glory

That’s not a saying.

Noora

Well, I’m making it one and I’d love your support.

Me

Anyway … you all mad?

Hansani

Of course not.

Glory

Nope. Some horses are meant to run free.

Noora

Just don’t be a stranger, okay?

Me

Got it. One more thing?

Noora

Yes.

Me

If you all were trees, know what kind you’d all be?

Glory

If this is a pun …

Me

… tree-mendous.

Noora

I’d totally go out on a limb for you.

Glory

Please stop.

Hansani

What happened with hot bodyguard?

Me

Ugh. Don’t ask. Made a fool of myself. Now it’s beyond awkward. That’s what I get for trying to branch out.

Noora

Don’t worry I’m here. I won’t leaf you alone.

Glory

You two actually need help.

I smile at my phone, lean back in the plush velvet seat, and listen to the click-clack of the train as it speeds toward Kyoto. We’re in a private carriage—me, Mariko, Mr. Fuchigami, and a security team headed by Akio. As for the imperial guard, he’s made himself scarce. Naturally, I don’t jump every time a door between the cars opens or shrink in my seat hoping to avoid him. That would be pathetic. I’m not a total sad sack. Just kidding. I am. I really am.

My phone buzzes in my hand. It’s my father texting: Departure okay? I tap out a three-letter response: Yep. Instead of informing him myself I’d be going to Kyoto, I had Mr. Fuchigami do so. Now we communicate purely by text. Just call me Petty LaBelle. He may have posed Kyoto as an opportunity to learn, but it’s hard not to feel as if I’m being hidden away. You know, the whole thing where imperial families ferret unwanted members to the countryside and abandon them?

I put my phone away and stare out the window at Japan’s countryside, watching the scenery zip by at 320 kilometers per hour. Mount Fuji has come and gone, as have laundry on metal merry-go-racks, houses plastered with party signs, weathered baseball diamonds, an ostrich farm, and now, miles of rice paddy fields tended by people wearing conical hats and straw coats. Japan is dressed in her best this morning, sunny and breezy, with few clouds in the sky as accessories. It’s the first official day of spring. Cherry blossoms have disappeared in twists of wind or trampled into the ground. Takenoko, bamboo season, will begin soon.

Mr. Fuchigami sits across from me. He nods to the window. “See how the villages huddle together?” I do notice. They’re clustered, surrounded by rice paddies or farmland. “Not many people live in higher altitudes. The mountains are the domain of the gods,” he says. Shinto is the state religion. My grandfather, the emperor, is the head of it—the symbol of the State and the highest authority. “Even today, it’s considered taboo to live so high.”

At the word taboo, I remember my last conversation with Akio. I stand abruptly. “Excuse me.” I skirt away, heading for the door.

In the bathroom, I wash my hands and contemplate splashing water on my face to see if it will cool the lingering burn of embarrassment, but Mariko spent half an hour on my makeup this morning. I wait a few minutes, letting my body sway with the train’s movement. There’s something soothing about the rocking. Alas, I can’t stay here forever.

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