Tokyo Ever After: A Novel (Tokyo Ever After #1)(72)

That, among other things. He might not be mad at me, but it doesn’t change a whole lot. How can I explain? It’s Akio, but also the press. The Shining Twins. The whole imperial family. I could spend a lifetime learning the customs, navigating the culture, but I’ll never belong. I’m a Twinkie. Yellow on the outside, white on the inside. I hate that term. Does that mean I hate myself? No. I just hate the division.

“Even if he did want me, it would never work though, right? A commoner and a princess?” I repeat Yoshi’s sentiment.

“Life is full of possibilities, Izumi. But things don’t happen magically. Relationships are work. I was afraid of that when I met your mother. I was too focused on myself and my role. If I’m wrong, and this thing with the imperial guard is serious, then…”

“It’s not,” I cut in. “I wanted it to be. But he didn’t feel the same way, I guess.”

“It’s as I figured.” He grows thoughtful. “Would you like me to have him removed from the city? There are nine and a half million people in Tokyo, so the odds are very low you would run into him. But I could have him banned.”

The corners of my lips turn up. “Can you really do that?”

“No.” He grins. “I’m pretty sure it would violate all sorts of laws. But I would do anything in my power to ease your pain.” My father’s smile broadens. “Come back to Japan, Izumi-chan.”

I instantly sober. “No. I can’t.” Even when I thought I was succeeding, I wasn’t. There’s just too much to know, more than a lifetime’s worth. There’s no use walking forward when someone is digging a pit right in front of you.

“All right.” He looks at his gold watch. “Chamberlains will show up tomorrow. But I’ll make it clear I’m staying through to your graduation. Looks like I have three days to convince you.”

“Feel free to try.” I smile to soften the blow. I’ve learned my lesson. The Land of the Rising Sun and I are not compatible.

Even so, I’m very glad a little part of Japan is here with me.





33


Day One.

The Imperial Household Agency descends on Mount Shasta. Chamberlains, secretaries, private chefs, and valets arrive. A private meeting is held in our kitchen. Mom and I are relegated to the driveway with the secret service agents, imperial guards and diplomatic vehicles designated for foreign state visitors. Furious voices filter through the windows. My father slams out of the house.

“Mak?” Mom says.

I hold Tamagotchi’s leash while he digs into the gravel driveway.

My father’s scowl lightens. “It’s all right. We were just ironing out all the details. Some meetings had to be canceled and rescheduled. Bit of unfortunate news, though. It seems like a hotel can’t be secured…” He scratches the back of his head.

I’m pretty sure I heard one of the chamberlains say the opposite.

“Oh,” Mom says. “Well, you’re more than welcome to stay here. I’m afraid I don’t have room for all your staff, but maybe Jones…”

“Thank you for offering your hospitality. The chamberlains will camp if necessary.” My father’s smile is triumphant. What a sneak. The chamberlains have spilled out of the house, black and navy suits, briefcases, and all. “Now, I’m excited to get to know Mount Shasta.” He holds out a hand. One of the chamberlains—or is it his secretary?—snaps open a briefcase. He awkwardly balances it in his hands while he fishes a Mount Shasta Visitor’s Guide out. “What should we do first?” He flips through the pages. “Bike riding? Hiking? Exploring downtown?”

Mom swallows. “I suppose we could hike by Castle Lake? Maybe stop by Berryvale and get some picnic items.”

My father flashes his teeth. “Sounds good to me.”

“Zoom Zoom, you okay with hiking?” Mom asks, brow arched like a dare.

“Absolutely,” I say with all the enthusiasm I don’t feel. Mom casts me a suspicious look. She’s sniffing me out. She knows hiking isn’t really my thing. The last time she suggested it to me, I said something along the lines of I’d rather give a gorilla an enema.

“Excellent,” he says. “I want to see everything that matters to you.” My father is excited. Truth is, I kind of am, too.



* * *



Day Two.

My legs still ache from the hike yesterday. We made the mistake of bringing Tamagotchi. He quit about halfway and I had to carry him. Such a lazy dog.

“You’re supposed to eat the whole thing?” My father stares at the dinner plate–sized biscuit in front of him.

“Yep.” The Black Bear Diner is pretty empty. A couple of old dudes in the back play checkers. A trucker downs coffee and eats pie at the counter. The waitstaff wear suspenders and go about their day like there aren’t secret service agents and imperial guards in the booths surrounding us and posted outside. Paparazzi have shown up, but they’ve been banned from nearly every establishment. Mount Shasta might hate monarchies, but they hate violations of privacy more. The town I never thought wanted me suddenly has my back.

My father sets to his biscuit with a fork and knife. My mom laughs behind her hand and he smiles like they’re sharing a private joke. He dips his bite in the butter and warm jam, then eats it. “It’s very sweet. I like it,” he declares. He orders biscuits for everybody on the Crown Prince’s tab.