Chapter 18

18

I’m shaken awake by tiny yet strong hands. What fresh hell is this? My gummy eyelids slide open.

“Izumi-sama,” Mariko says. “You must get up now.”

Bleary-eyed, I sit up. Damn, I feel like roadkill. Nothing like crying yourself to sleep. “Wha—”

“The Crown Prince is waiting for you.” Mariko is in much distress. She buzzes about the room, arms full of clothes and slippers. I throw my legs over the bed.

She dresses me in under fifteen minutes. I am of little help. My arms and legs are wooden and stiff like a doll. “Did you even wash your face?” Mariko tsks, wiping my cheeks with a cold washcloth. Though she’s being gentle, it slaps me awake. A little makeup, a brush raked through my hair, and I am pushed through the door.

The hallway seems brighter than usual, but it could be my crying hangover. Tears are really a bitch. Mr. Fuchigami and a whole gaggle of chamberlains are gathered outside my father’s office. Butlers and valets are also hanging around, loading monogrammed luggage into a waiting imperial vehicle.

“Good morning,” I say warily.

Mr. Fuchigami is solemn. “Your Highness. The Crown Prince is in his office.”

I swallow and nod. My heartbeat pounds behind my ears as I knock on the door and slip inside.

My father exhales seeing me. “Izumi. Please come in. Sit down.” I shuffle forward and collapse into a chair with a dainty thud. My father sits behind his desk. He’s in a suit and tie, pristine, though he appears a little tired. Guess we both had a rough night. My head is pounding and I’m pretty sure my face is still puffy. I didn’t have the heart to look in the mirror.

“Feels like I’ve been sent to the principal’s office.” I clasp my hands in front of me. “If this is about the prime minister’s wedding—”

“We need to talk—”

We speak at the same time. Pause. Stare at each other.

“You first,” says my father, opening his hands.

My fingernails dig into my palms. I try to look at my father, but my chin doesn’t seem inclined to go in that direction. Instead, it points down at my lap. “The prime minister’s wedding … I’m sorry.” My cheeks heat thinking of the moment—of the Shining Twins’ smiles, of how I embarrassed my father, of Akio’s stinging rejection.

My father says nothing. I force my chin up and wish I hadn’t. His mouth is a flat line. He drums his fingers against his lacquered desk. “We were fortunate media wasn’t allowed at the event. I cannot imagine the consequences in the papers. Pictures of you running from the wedding would be all over on the cover. The speculation … or if they actually found out you insulted the prime minister.” He shakes his head. “It would have been awful.”

“I’m sorry,” I say again. Is there a word for lower than low? “It’s just that Akiko and Noriko said you didn’t mention the prime minister’s sister in your speech, and so I thought, maybe I should mention it.… I was only trying to help,” I finish weakly.

He shakes his head. “The feud has been public and very ugly. I’m sure you misheard.”

“But…” I say, flabbergasted.

He leans back, and that’s the end of the discussion. “It doesn’t matter how it happened. As members of the imperial family, we’re expected to be beyond reproach.”

“I get it,” I say evenly, though I kind of don’t. I apologized and tried to explain myself. Did I ever stand a chance in this new world? You don’t know what you don’t know, and you’ll be blamed for it. He scrubs a hand over his face, seemingly at a loss for words.

Heads bob outside the window; valets are loading luggage. I peer out the glass. “Is someone going somewhere?”

He straightens up. “Yes.” He’s still a bit off. We’re a bit off. “I’m leaving.”

“You’re leaving?” Oh. Wow. Just give me a moment to scoop my heart up off the floor. “When? Where are you going?”

“I was supposed to depart early this morning, but I delayed so I could speak with you. It’s an unscheduled trip. The emperor, my father, isn’t feeling well.” At my concerned look, he waves a hand. “Nothing serious. He’s fatigued, I believe. Too much traveling. I’ve been asked to fill in for him.”

I shake my head, stupefied. “How … how long will you be gone?”

He sighs. “Sixteen days.”

This math is easy. My flight home is in a couple days. I open my hands. “I guess this is goodbye, then.” I start to stand.

“Izumi. Wait. Stop.”

I sink back into my seat and lift my chin high.

“I’m doing this all wrong.” He grasps a heavy silver pen and fidgets with it. “I don’t want this to be goodbye.” He clears his throat. I sit perfectly still. “I wonder if maybe we should extend our time together.” His eyes level with mine. “I’d like you to stay.”

I suck in a breath. I’m not being kicked to the curb? This is unexpected … and not such an easy decision on my end. The girls and I had big plans for the spring, packing in breakfasts at Black Bear Diner and polar bear swims in Castle Lake before we leave for college and go our separate directions—Glory to the University of Oregon, Hansani to UC Berkeley, and Noora all the way to Columbia. I’d planned to stay local at College of the Siskiyous, near my mom. Months are all we have left after a lifetime together.

I frown. “I can’t miss graduation. You could come, I guess,” I blurt out. Don’t know how mom would feel about that. Maybe it’ll be a surprise. Everyone loves surprises, right?

He dips his chin. “I’d need to check my schedule.”

“Of course,” I’m quick to say. “If you have time.” It sounds snippy.

“I’ll speak to my secretary.” He pauses, taps his pen. “You haven’t answered my question. Will you stay?”

“I don’t know.” I hesitate, still reeling from the last twenty-four hours. It’s been a roller coaster. Do I stay on the ride, not knowing how it ends? Right now, I’m just trying to catch my breath.

He regards me carefully. “Izumi-chan, may I ask why you came to Japan?”

I lace my fingers together and stare at the samurai sword behind his desk. The blade is polished to a high sheen. I can see part of my reflection, the gentle upturn of my eyes. A dragon curls around the hilt. Originally, I thought coming here was to get to know my father. But it’s bigger than that. “I came to figure out who I am, where I come from.” Find somewhere I belong.

“History is important,” he says. He thinks for a moment, coming to a conclusion. “Stay. Mr. Fuchigami suggested Kyoto, and I think it’s an excellent idea. You’ll see the countryside and continue your lessons. When I return, we’ll attend the emperor’s birthday together. It’s a national holiday and there is a big to-do. You’d meet your grandparents.”

I twiddle my thumbs, feeling the pull of his promises, but I’m still upset. I can’t shake Mr. Fuchigami and my father making plans for me behind my back. I suddenly understand Yoshi’s desire for distance from the imperial family. It’s hard not to feel like a pawn on a chessboard. Chamberlains moving you about. All these men deciding what is best for you. “I should talk with Mom.” I wait a beat. Really contemplate it—Kyoto, a part of the country I haven’t seen. I know my search isn’t over. This opportunity is too big to let go of just because I’m pissed. You know, don’t cut off your nose to spite your face, that whole thing.

“Okay,” he says slowly. Clearly, he was anticipating more excitement. He doesn’t have a lot of experience with teenagers, I guess. All I can say is: welcome to the jungle, buddy.

“Is that all?” I stand.

“That’s all.” He stands, too. “I’ll be leaving for the airport in…” he checks his watch. “An hour.”

“I’ll let you know what I decide.”

We face off.

“All right,” he says.

“All right then,” I parrot, then leave, spine straight and unforgiving.

---

In my room, a breakfast service has been laid out next to the floor-to-ceiling windows. I pluck up my phone and settle at the antique table. I dial my mom and peek under the silver dome—Wagyu tenderloin served with scrambled eggs, black truffle and chives. All delicious, but I can’t find my appetite.

Mom answers on the first ring. “Zoom Zoom!” Her voice is happy.

“Mom,” I say.

“Oh no. What’s wrong?”

Just by my tone, she can tell something’s up. Man, I miss her. “My father asked me to stay in Japan, and he wants me to go to Kyoto,” I expel in one breath. Outside the window, a crane swoops and lands in the water. I definitely don’t scan the lawn to check for Akio. “Mom? You there?”

“I’m here.” She sounds uneasy. “Just needed a moment. Your father wants you to stay?”

“Yes.” My stomach churns.

“I see. Well … what do you want?”

“I want to stay, I think?” Should I tell her about the wedding? My father? Our discord? It’s on the tip of my tongue, the whole messy story. But then, I picture her reaction, the worry on her face. How hard it would be for her to know I’m hurting while I’m an ocean away.

“I’d feel more confident if you didn’t pose that as a question.”

With my finger, I trace the edge of the crane’s neck through the glass. Why’d you come to Japan? my father asked. “I want to stay. I know it means missing more classes, but I haven’t had enough time here.” I stop. Pause. Collect myself. I can hear her breaths through the line. I wish I could see her. Map the expression on her face.

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.