Tokyo Ever After: A Novel (Tokyo Ever After #1)(63)

I step forward, open the door and make sure it’s closed before I speak. “Is everything okay?” I ask softly.

Midori moans low and averts her head. The twins’ eyes narrow at me. They step in front of their mother, hiding her. I shift, trying to peer around them. “Do you need me to get someone or something? Water? A doctor?”

Noriko steps forward. Her dress is a high-necked, sky blue number. It complements the angry gold flecks in her eyes. “You will not speak of this to anyone,” she says.

“Of course, I won’t—”

Akiko comes to her side. She’s in pastel green. Her hands curl into fists at her sides. “You don’t belong here.”

I back up. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“You even think of it and we’ll ruin you,” Noriko promises.

“Like I said, I won’t tell anyone. But this isn’t the ideal place. If you can, you should try to move her.”

The twins share a look. It’s Noriko who speaks. “We will decide what’s best for our mother. Now please go.”

I take a beat, eyes flickering to each. It’s really none of my business. Time to move on. I switch on a smile. “I hope you feel better,” I say, voice rising to reach their mother. They watch me as I exit.

Back in the hallway, I resume my course. I walk away from the banquet hall, deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole. I turn right. This wide hallway is nearly empty. Two imperial guards positioned under bamboo lanterns stand at attention as I pass. The red carpet hushes my footsteps as they become more hurried, more frantic to match my beating heart.

Finally, I come to a set of doors. I slide them open and close them softly behind me. It’s the same room where my photograph was taken earlier. Through the windows the sun is bright and light filters in, dust particles suspended.

The doors slide open. I whip around. Akio. I knew he’d follow. For a moment, he stands quietly, watching me with a tilt of his head. The sunlight catches him, lighting up all the hard planes in his face. He is beautiful. Cut from marble and glass. “You left the banquet,” is all he says.

I smile gently. “You said we needed to talk.”

He trudges forward. “Right.”

I tip my chin up. “So?”

Silence stretches on. He shakes his head. “I’m not sure how to begin.” I stare at him, transfixed. Heart lodged in my throat and all that. He reaches out, fingers skirting down my elbow to my palm, then catching mine. “Izumi. Princess. Radish.” He pulls me close. “Will you dance with me?”

“I don’t know,” I hesitate. My head is spinning. “Last time didn’t go so well.”

“Last time, I was a fool.”

When the man is right, he’s right. I place a hand on his shoulder. “We don’t have any music.” He’d said the same to me before.

At last, he smiles. “I’ve come prepared.” He slips his phone from his pocket, scrolls through the options, and chooses a song. “The Rose” starts playing. “I couldn’t find the Gay Men’s Chorus version. The original Bette Midler will have to do.”

“I’ll get over it.” My body relaxes with a sigh. All is right with the world.

He rests his chin on my head. We start to sway together. “How did things go with the emperor and empress?”

“Good, I think.” I snuggle into his chest. Briefly, I fill him in on the luncheon. Yoshi’s jokes. The Shining Twins in the bathroom with their mother.

“Princess Midori has not been well for some time. The press will be hard on her for missing the emperor’s birthday speech.”

I stop. “That’s unfair.”

His gaze is tender, his voice fierce. “Better her than you.”

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” I say, though it’s always nice to have someone stand up for you.

“It’s true.”

I pat his chest. “Just try not to repeat it.”

“I’ll keep my thoughts to myself.”

We resume dancing. The song ends, then starts again. “You put the song on loop?”

“I learned from the best.”

“I didn’t think you noticed.”

“Of course I did.” His voice drops, sounds a bit a hoarse. “There isn’t a thing I don’t notice when it comes to you.”

We stop again. My breaths are shallow. His heart is pounding. “Are you going to tell me what you wanted to talk about now?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” His hands move up my waist, fire burning in their wake.

“I’m the kind of girl who likes things spelled out for her.”

His brown eyes shine suspiciously bright. “Kyoto was the best night of my life. The thought of never having it again, the thought of never having you…” His grip tightens. “Radish, I’m so heartsick for you.” I shudder, racked with all the feelings. These are the sweetest words I’ve ever heard. All I ever needed to hear. I close my eyes, open them. “Please, say something,” he begs.

I tip my chin up and smile. Everything has come together, like fingers interlacing, or a key sliding into a lock. We fit and shouldn’t be apart. “I definitely think you should kiss me now.”

He exhales. “Best idea I ever heard.” His head lowers. His lips brush mine, tentative at first, then he presses in. I do, too. Our bodies are flush. We break apart, stare at each other wonderingly, then come back together. Lips find lips. Hands touch hands. Here, in this room, in this building, on this soil, millennia of traditions come crumbling down.