The Edo-era villa just south of Kyoto was still standing thanks to years of meticulous mending and preservation--much like Hino Emiko. Well into her eighties, there was some wear around Emiko’s eyes and jowls and her hair had long since gone white. Despite this, she could still sit straight upon hard floors and her vision was as sharp as any hawk’s. Across the table from Rei, those dark violet eyes glittered beneath her lashes as she watched the two foreigners sitting in her home.
Rei sat in silence to her father’s right, dressed in her mother’s old kimono. It was a common affair: plum and mauve striped linen, with white and scarlet lilies embroidered along the hem. A silk obi from the Hino family collection and a pair of simple amethyst earrings dressed it up enough to pass at the formal dinner. More importantly, Rei looked every inch the proper Japanese woman.
She was in stark contrast to the blond sitting at Hino Takashi’s left. Angela Darton had tried, that much was obvious. Her hair had been twisted back into something resembling a traditional style, and she’d swathed herself in a brand new, fuchsia, silk furisode painted with sakura. The obi over it matched perfectly, as did the painted sandals she’d worn to the house some hours before.
Angela had more practice in mimicking their fashion than their manners. Her smile had long since gone from genuine, to forced, to flat uncomfortable. There were a few grains of rice stuck to her sleeves, and Emiko resisted the urge to wince at the soy stain on Angela’s obi. The woman shifted again on her knees and too casually dropped a hand back to rub at her calf.
Both the men were easy in their simple black kimono. Their conversation on the other hand...Emiko regretted that she’d never learned English--whatever they were saying had long since set her granddaughter on edge. She watched Rei’s fingers clutch around her chopsticks until Rei set them on their rest and put her hands once more on her lap.
“Dear,” Emiko said under the men’s conversation, “they’re not on about politics again, are they?”
Rei shook her head slightly. Takashi didn’t note their conversation, and Emiko didn’t think either Angela or her son spoke Japanese. Rei whispered in return: “Religion.”
“I see.” Emiko sipped her sake.
The Ibuki family, from whence Asaka had come, had long held a good reputation for both the careful tending of the Hikawa shrines and producing powerful clerics. That Rei had followed her mother’s tradition was no slight to the Hino name. This Angela, however...”What are they?”
“Catholic,” said Rei. “She wishes the ceremony in a church.”
Takashi does not seem to be arguing, Emiko thought. She knew her son well enough to see the ease in his shoulders, the agreement of his nods. He would go along with whatever Angela wished--as a good husband should, she supposed. Jeremiah was letting his mother do the most talking; Angela hadn’t shut her mouth since they’d arrived.
Much like his mother, Jeremiah sported bright blond hair and blue eyes backed by a Californian tan. He didn’t smile much, which Emiko liked, but when he did his teeth were a pearly white only attained through expensive dental work. The only thing he didn’t seem to share with his mother was his ability to use chopsticks.
He was watching Rei and flashed her a tiny smile when she caught him looking. Almost immediately, Jeremiah returned his gaze to his mother. Rei’s eyebrow twitched, and Emiko poured her granddaughter another cup of sake.
The night continued in much the same manner: Angela, Takashi, and Jeremiah talking while Rei and Emiko sat as silent witnesses. For whatever that was worth, it worked. Though Takashi invited Rei to share their car when they left, she declined and watched with Emiko as the guard shut the gate behind his Mercedes.
“You do not approve,” said Emiko. They had retired to the family room, where the remains of dinner had been removed and the table cleaned. Each had a small cup of sake, and Emiko took a sip of hers as she waited.
Rei pursed her lilps. “It’s strange. He’s very taken with this ‘Angela’.”
“Yes. He was more taken with your mother.”
“Don’t.” Rei looked up sharply. Her expression softened by degrees, and she resumed staring at the table. “Please. Not tonight.”
Emiko inclined her head slightly, and they each took a sip of the sake. “So...a church?”
The younger woman nodded as she set her cup down. “A cathedral, to be specific.”
“Is there a difference?” Emiko scoffed.
“Yes.” Rei’s fingers tightened around her cup. “In Catholicism one must convert in order to be married within the cathedral. Papa says that he will do what Angela asks, as it is of little importance to him.”
“Christianity is very...trendy these days,” said Emiko.
She drained her cup, as did Rei. “That it is.”
Emiko watched Rei continue to stare into the empty sake cup. Though she thought somewhat better of it, she took the bottle and poured the girl another draught. “One more, then bed. You will stay with me until this mess is sorted out.”
Bowing slightly, Rei said, “Yes, grandmother.”
Storm clouds were rolling in over the cathedral, and there was a grumbling to the east. Rei stood among the back pews and watched as best she could through the stained glass windows. She wished she were in Azabu. There, she’d be sitting on the porch with her grandfather, minding the shrine and tying talismans for the street festival on Saturday. In the back of her mind, she could almost hear Usagi whining about how boring that would be.
By comparison, planning a wedding was right up Usagi’s alley. Minako’s, too, Rei chuckled to herself.
Rei shook her head clear and glanced at the altar where her soon-to-be stepmother was still talking to the priest. At that second, Angela looked behind her. She waved excitedly to Rei, bouncing upon her pink pumps. With a sigh, Rei went to join them.
“Hino-san, a pleasure,” said the priest. He grinned so wide it seemed almost as though his pudgy, box-shaped face had split in two. His brown eyes were tiny and watery, and half hidden behind a pair of spectacles perched on his beak of a nose. The priest bowed, and Rei reciprocated. “I understand you are to help Ms. Darton with the preparations?”
“I am honoured to assist in what ways that I can, though I do not know how much help I may be.”
“Nonsense!” Angela laughed and touched Rei’s arm. “You’re going to be great help, dear.”
Clapping her hands together, Angela bounced around to look back at the cathedral behind them. “Now, Father Parkinson has said we’ll have access to the cathedral at any time we wish, but we can’t decorate until the day before, obviously. I really wish you’d consider the Lord as well, dear, I’d so love for you to be in the ceremony.”
“Ah, Angela,” Father Parkinson said, as though he’d seen the twitch in Rei’s jaw. He reached out to put a hand upon Angela’s back and made a calming gesture with his other. “I’m certain that Hino-san has her reasons, but that doesn’t mean she can’t still be quite involved in the ceremony.”
“Well of course not,” Angela cooed at Rei and took her hands. Rei’s eyebrows shot up. Angela didn’t seem to notice or care; she squeezed Rei’s hands. “You’ll still be my maid of honour at heart. We’re going to have so much fun with this! There are all sorts of things to do--get the flowers, the dresses, find a band, plan the reception, table sets, food...so much to do!”
Finally, the woman dropped her hands. Rei rubbed them as Angela trotted down aisle, still yammering away. She looked up to find Father Parkinson watching her. “She means well,” he said in quiet Japanese, “please, do try and remember that.”
With a short nod, Rei turned and followed the raving blond from the room.
Water cascaded down the windows of the Nikko Princess hotel’s Darley Lounge later that night. It was the perfect setting for the engagement party, Rei thought and told herself that she was not brooding. The woman to her left laughed, and Rei flashed a smile in time to pacify the statesman whom had cracked a joke she hadn’t heard.
The bar was filled mostly with her father’s friends and coworkers, though some of Angela’s peers were scattered throughout. Most were as American as the soon-to-be Mrs. Hino: loud, dramatic, and possessed of a singular ability to spend money like it were water. By contrast, the stars of the Japanese gossip mill seemed pale. Meek, even.
Emiko brushed through the doors at a quarter past eight, giving Rei a chance to excuse herself. Her grandmother frowned as she glanced over the red and black cocktail dress Rei was wearing. As always, the Hino matriarch had donned a traditional tsukesage from her collection, and her hair had been done up with matching jade and ebony kanzashi. Rei felt the slightest twinge of guilt that she’d not done the same.
“Times change,” Emiko said faintly, so that only Rei could hear. “You’ll forgive an old woman her peculiarities?”
“Of course.”
After a short look around, Emiko spotted Takashi with his fiancee and a gaggle of others, and she led Rei toward them.
“The very fact that homeless rates have skyrocketed in the past year is ample proof that the market is sickening. Surely you don’t think that people are choosing this lot?” Rei recognized the man Jeremiah was scowling at: Mizoguchi, the vice minister of finance. The so-called “Mr. Dollar” had donned the politely impassive mask of the truly pissed politician, and it was all Rei could do to keep from laughing.
Beside them, Takashi looked ready to faint or blow up, and Angela didn’t seem to realize there
was anything wrong. Emiko cast a confused glance at Rei, who leaned in to whisper an explanation. She missed Mizoguchi’s retort in the process.
Emiko gave Rei’s side a surreptitious pinch and a pointed look toward Jeremiah.
Stealing to the blonde's side, Rei braced herself as she copied Angela’s overly familiar gesture from that morning--she placed her hand upon Jeremiah's arm--and offered Mizoguchi a respectful nod. “Excuse me, gentlemen,” she said in English, “I do not mean to intrude--”
“No intrusion,” Mizoguchi said with a shake of his head. There was relief in his stance, and her father’s. “You must be Hino-san’s daughter. Your father speaks much good of you. To what do I owe this honour?”
Trying to ignore the way her insides turned to ice, Rei couldn’t help a slight glance at her father even as she ducked her head demurely. “He is too kind. Sadly, sir, I came for my--my brother. There is a matter to which we must attend.”
Jeremiah startled. “What?”
Mizoguchi gave a quick, short bow, which Rei returned. She nudged Jeremiah's ankle with her toe, and he bowed as well. With that, Rei took him by the arm and guided him away from the vice minister...and her father.
“Your brother, now, am I?” Jeremiah was snickering at her when she let him go. Safely across the lounge from anyone whose opinion mattered, Rei gave him her best glower and found a couch to sit upon.
“Soon enough, I suppose. What did you think you were doing?”
The American slowly sank down next to her. “I thought I was having a conversation. What did you want to see me about?”
“Your having a conversation.” She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. “I know you are a guest in our country, Darton-san--”
“Jermi.” At her blank expression, he smirked. “If we’re going to be brother and sister then it serves to reason you should call me by my name. Or is that not allowed in Japan?”
When she didn’t answer right away, he got up again. “What’s your poison?”
“Excuse me?”
“Drink.” He chuckled. “What do you drink?”
Rei rubbed one of her arms, then said, “A Japanese Slipper.”
Jeremiah gave an exaggerated bow, then joined the line at the bar. He returned several minutes later with a lime green cocktail in one hand, and an orange highball in the other. After handing her the cocktail, he sat down again and spread one arm along the back of the couch. “Now. What was this about being a guest in your country?”
Rei sipped the Slipper. “There are certain levels of decorum one must maintain. Harassing the Vice Minister of Finance about the homeless is quite rude.”
A slow grin spread across Jeremiah’s lips. Around a faint chuckling, he took another long sip of his drink. Rei eyed him. “What is so funny?”
“I’ve spent years in Japan,” he said after a moment. “I’ve never had anyone tell me so bluntly that I’m being rude. I was under the impression that doing so would make one a hypocrite.”
“We’re family, or we will be.” Rei stiffened a little. The urge to drain her glass was strong, but that would look poorly. Jeremiah’s grin only widened, and Rei fought the urge to wipe it off his face.
“I suppose we are. So then, what exactly am I supposed to talk about with old Mr. Dollar?”
“Allow him to choose the conversation,” she said. “He is of higher rank than you, therefore you do not speak to him unless spoken to. Do not corner him with hard questions in public, unless he has given you permission. It is impolite.”
Jeremiah shook his head. She rolled her eyes, and he held up a pacifying hand. “Okay, okay. I’m sure you’re right, it’s just a little odd to me, being a loud, brash American and all.”
Though his expression had returned to neutral, Rei thought there was a gleam of good humour behind his words and eyes. She found herself fighting a smile. “Papa is very protective of his reputation.”
“So I’ve heard.” Jeremiah was watching the men across the room. More specifically, Rei thought his gaze rested upon the woman still attached to her father’s arm. Angela Darton was all smiles and cloying affection. Emiko stood at her side with an expression so pointedly impartial that Rei had to smirk.
“Your grandmother doesn’t approve,” Jeremiah said. “And neither do you.”
Temporarily stunned into silence, Rei found herself staring into a set of inquisitive bright blue eyes. He arched a single brow at her and sipped his screwdriver. She fidgeted upon the couch. “We’re still in shock.”
“So,” the man mused over another sip. “He really didn’t say anything?”
Rei shook her head. “Not a word before he proposed. Then we were expected to meet the pair of you.”
The American sighed and leaned back against the couch. His eyes were no longer for her, but for the crowd around them. “I can see why you’d feel that way. Still, they seem to love each other.”
“Mm.” Rei drained the last of her cocktail and rested the glass upon her knee. It was cold, but she didn’t mind so much. Lightning flashed outside, and the lights flickered. Jeremiah lolled his head over to look at her.
“How long has it been since she died?”
Rei frowned at his audacity, but the innocence in his expression was hard to ignore. She sighed after a moment. “Thirteen years.”
“Five,” Jeremiah said after a moment. He was looking at his mother again, and Rei relaxed.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly.
Jeremiah shook his head. “Don’t be. I get where you’re coming from as best as anyone can, I’d wager. This was bound to happen sometime, though.”
Rei scoffed. “You don’t know my father.”
“And you don’t know my mother.” He flashed a slight smile.
“Touche,” she said, slowly.
“Mm.” After setting his highball on the side table, Jeremiah extended his free hand to her. “So, how about a truce--at least between us?”
Though it was a little awkward on the couch as they were, Rei took his hand. He turned it about and brushed his lips over her knuckles with a rakish wink. That rewarded him a startled laugh, and the American grinned once again. “I knew you could smile.”
“So he’s cute,” said Makoto. Despite the kilometers between them, Rei could perfectly envision the teasing smirk on her friend’s face. She rolled her eyes and shifted the cellphone to her other ear.
“There isn’t a man alive you wouldn’t find cute. And several dead, for that matter.” Flipping her hair over one shoulder, Rei tumbled onto her futon and stared out the open shoji at the moonlit gardens beyond.
Makoto just laughed. “They want this wedding to be at the cathedral, then?”
“Mm. Papa didn’t bat an eye at the idea of converting.”
On the other end of the line, Makoto hummed softly. “Well, you did say he was never very religious. I guess it makes sense that he would, if his fiancee asked it of him.” There was a pause and some rustle of fabric over the line, before Makoto said: “It’s odd to think of him getting married, isn’t it?”
Rei bit her lip to keep from protesting. Rolling over, she settled on her stomach facing the gardens. There was no noise here, save the sound of water flowing in the koi pond. It was almost as tranquil as the shrine, but it lacked a certain element to it--an energy which Rei had neither the name for, nor the will to assign one.
“I’m too old for this. I know I am, and yet...”
“Rei-chan,” Makoto said quietly, “Sometime our emotions just are. You can’t control what you feel.”
The priestess pursed her lips and hung her head. “No. I suppose not. But I can try to be kind.”
“You could.” Makoto chuckled. “Enough about them. Have they given you an answer yet?”
As though that topic were any better, Rei thought. She scooped her hair over one shoulder and ran her fingers through it. “No, not yet. The board is still...debating certain topics.”
Her friend snorted over the phone. “Yeah, I bet. Old bastards. They’ve ordained women before.”
“Not as a rule.” Though she was loath to admit it, Rei couldn’t help but wonder how they’d take her involvement in the wedding. It wasn’t her choice, to be sure, and Shinto beliefs had never had a problem with other religions. Except when it came to the matter of conversion. “They could debate the rest of the century if they wanted, there’s no deadline.”
There was a short pause, then Makoto said, slowly, “I’m a little surprised, to be honest.”
“I know you guys think the world of me--”
“It isn’t that.” Makoto laughed, and Rei’s cheeks heated. “You are my favorite shrine maiden, of course, but I meant more with your family. I guess it looks bad, now, about your dad and all, but the Hino clan has always given so much to the shrines...”
Frowning, Rei shook her head. “I wouldn’t want it to be about that, anyway. I might share the name, but...”
“I know.” And she did, Rei thought. Of them all, Makoto and Minako understood her feelings toward her father the best. Ironically, she supposed, as Makoto was an orphan and Minako got along quite well with her father, so long as her mother wasn’t about. They were also the only two who had ever met Takashi. “It’ll all work out, Rei-chan. Just wait.”
At precisely ten-oh-two the next morning, Rei led the babbling Angela into the first of the handful of bakeshops Makoto had suggested the night before. Porto’s Bakery was the sort of affair Rei would never have stepped foot into on her own, but Makoto had insisted that it was one of the finest in Japan, if not the world. That alone was enough to get Angela into the swing of things.
It was also, Rei found to her relief, used to dealing with foreigners. The chef greeted them in mildly accented English, and Angela lit up like a light bulb. In no time they were seated at a tasting table and discussing the various types of wedding cake.
“White is traditional,” Angela said, passing the sliver of sample cake to Rei. “But I don’t know if I want to go that way. We are in Japan, after all, that’s hardly--I mean, I think it’d be nice to pay some homage to your culture as well. Make the whole family feel at home!”
That wasn’t likely, Rei thought, but she smiled anyway. She nodded after she ate her sliver of cake and put it aside. “Very good.”
“Mm, but I don’t want to seem too extreme, either. Your dad is pretty conservative, isn’t he? It’s so like a man.”
Unsure of what that was supposed to mean, and unused to wanting to defend her father, Rei offered the slightest of shrugs in response. Angela shared a conspiratorial look with the put-upon saleswoman. “Liberal to a fault until you count on them being so, then they just up and change their minds! Takashi was absolutely insistent that we have the wedding here in Kyoto, rather than in California. I said, ‘We’re going to be living in Kyoto the rest of our lives, shouldn’t our wedding be somewhere exotic?’ He didn’t want to, though. He said he had an obligation to his people.”
Rei nudged another slab of sample cake toward the blond. The saleswoman smiled politely. “The senator is well loved by the people he serves. His wedding will certainly reflect well upon his family.”
“It’s so nice to hear good things about politicians,” said Angela. She tried the next cake--sponge, Rei thought. “In America it’s all dirty gossip and posturing.”
Biting her tongue a little harder, Rei accepted the slice when Angela passed it to her and broke off her own corner for sampling. Angela sighed. “I’m not sure. I think maybe we should go with something a little more inventive.”
“Perhaps the Cuban.” The saleswoman chose another sample slice and passed it over. “This is one of our chef’s specialities. It’s soaked in French Brandy and can be paired with any filling we have. This slice has pineapple--it’s our most popular version.”
Angela tried it with gusto and made a soft whining noise. “Oh that’s fantastic! What do you think, Rei?”
Rei tried it and arched an eyebrow. “It reminds me of a pińa colada.”
Angela burst into laughter. “It does! Oh.” She wiped a finger under one of her eyes, still chuckling. “I did like the cake, though. Didn’t you say you have a butter-cream filling?”
“We do. Strawberry, raspberry, and Bavarian.”
After sharing a look with Rei, Angela hummed. “I think we’ll have to get Takashi in here to try these, but I’m definitely liking the Cuban.”
“Papa was always fond of Bavarian cream,” Rei found herself offering.
Angela stared at her a moment with a tiny, light smile on her face. It widened a few degrees as she nodded. “Let’s remember to ask him then, shall we?”
Later that evening, they entered the penthouse suite of the Nikko Princess hotel. Angela went immediately to an armchair, dropped her overloaded bags beside it, and flopped into the seat. “So much shopping! Did you ever think there could be too much?”
Rei stopped to take her shoes off at the genkan, then followed Angela into the living area. The woman had kicked her heels off there and put her feet on the coffee table. “Yes. Several of my friends are very skilled with...ah. How do you say...low price finding?”
“Bargain shopping?” Angela smiled. “It’s nice to know that some things never change, no matter where you are.” There was a pause as Rei took the other armchair and Angela continued to stare at her. Rei was reminded very well of the way Jeremiah had looked at her the night before--like they were trying to see into her very soul. She met the gaze and refused to shiver.
“Your English is very good,” said Angela, “You’ve really never been out of Japan?”
Rei shook her head. “I attended a Catholic school. They were very strict about our English lessons--it was one of the things Papa insisted that I learn.”
The woman frowned a little, and gestured to her. “But you’re not?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Not Catholic.”
Frowning, Rei shook her head. She thought Angela knew that. “No. I am Shinto.”
Angela leaned forward as she took her feet off the table. She put her elbows to her knees and gestured with clasped hands at Rei. “So your father said, but what is that?”
The door opened and Jeremiah jogged in a few steps before Takashi, who had stopped to take off his shoes. “Ah! We didn’t think you’d be back yet.”
Jeremiah kissed his mother’s forehead as he passed her on his way into the kitchenette. Smiling at Takashi, Angela shrugged, “Even we girls couldn’t spend all day shopping, right, Rei?”
Rei smiled tersely at the overly familiar woman. “We have made good time. There’s just decoration to attend to, and the food.”
Angela groaned faintly. “Your daughter is amazingly organized, Taka-chan. I just didn’t know how we were going to cram all of this into three days. Two, now!”
“I told you it would be fine,” Takashi said, stopping at her side. He offered her a hand. “For now, would you join me at dinner?”
“Candlelit dinner for two?” The blond grinned at him. She took his hand and he pulled her to her feet. Takashi continued to hold Angela’s hand as she slid her heels back on. “Don’t mind if I do. You children mind yourselves, now.”
The pair left a moment later, with Takashi only giving a single backward glance at his daughter. When the door closed again, Rei collapsed forward with her head in her arms. A soft chuckle reminded her that Jeremiah was still there.
He fell onto the couch. “That bad, is it?”
Rei sat up straight again and flipped her hair over one shoulder. “...I am not one for shopping.”
“Really?” His eyes glanced down her figure, his eyebrows slightly raised.
Gathering the edges of the grey cashmere wrap she had on, Rei tucked it a little more tightly around herself. “Dressing nicely does not indicate time spent in stores with gladness.”
“Gladly,” he said. After a sip of his water, Jermi chuckled, “Time spent in stores gladly. You don’t often slip up like that.”
Her lips pulled into a tight line. They stared at one another a long moment, then Rei got up. “Tell your mother I will dea--see her tomorrow. Good night, Darton-san.”
“Whoah, whoah.” Jermi held up a hand. He surged to his feet after her and followed her toward the door. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”
She stopped at the genkan and turned to glower...at his chest. Looking up the several inches that parted them, Rei met his startled blue eyes. Before she could say anything, the corner of his mouth twitched upward. “You’ll ‘deal with’ my mother tomorrow?’”
His grin was infectious. Rei bent her head to hide her smile and put a hand to her face. “Darton-san, I--”
“It’s okay, I get it.” He chuckled and offered a hand. “I apologize for whatever offense I gave you, okay?”
She tucked her arms back around herself. Rei looked up and tipped her head to the side. “You say you’ve been in Japan for years, but you have no idea what you just said...do you?”
Jermi sighed. Scrubbing one hand through his hair, he shook his head. “You lot are notoriously close-mouthed when you’re upset. I know I’ve offended some people but fuck if I can get a reason why out of them.”
He shrugged and headed back for the couch “It doesn’t matter much, really. My business partners seem to be reasonably okay with me.”
Rei glanced at the door behind her, then to her “brother.” After a moment, she took a few steps into the living room. “What is it that you do, exactly?”
Jermi put his feet up on the table much as his mother had done. “I’m a lawyer.”
“A lawyer.” She lifted a brow.
“My, is that contempt I hear?” He smirked. “Or just disbelief?” One finger tapped against her chin, and Rei pursed her lips as she thought about that. Jermi shook his head. “You’re doing it again.”
“Hm?”
He waved one hand at her. “The Japanese thing. Just say whatever it is--I don’t mind bluntness.”
Dropping her purse by the door, Rei crossed back to the arm chair and sank into it. In another moment she had put her feet up similarly. “Disbelief,” she said and met his eyes. “What kind of lawyer?”
“International business law. I don’t deal with regular citizens much; not at work, anyway.”
“Oh, I can believe that.”
An hour later they sat together on the couch nursing twin glasses of rum and coke. They’d found a horror movie--a favorite of Jermi’s--on TV. Rei hadn’t seen it, but it was the sort she liked: short on gore, high on suspense. It also wasn’t entirely terrible in its depiction of the dead.
At one point, Jermi asked, “How do they know that’s a ghost? That always confused me. She’s normal-looking. Creepy, but normal.”
Rei tilted her head as she looked over the creature in question. For a moment, she was at a loss; it seemed entirely obvious to her. “She is an onryō--a vengeance ghost,” Rei said slowly. “Her hair and kimono she wears...and she is very pale.”
Jermi lulled his head to the side, staring at her. “Yeah, but a lot of you wear kimono--we did the other night--you’re pale, and you have long hair.” He reached out and ran his fingers through her dark locks. “Are you an onryō?”
“Bah.” Rei gently slapped his fingers away, chuckling softly. “No I’m not. ...Her kimono. Did you look at it?”
He shrugged. “It’s a kimono.”
“Right. But the way it was folded.” She sat up and set her drink on the table. Turning to him, Rei made a crossing motion over her chest from her right shoulder to her left. “Right over left. Only the dead do this; it marks them.”
“Huh. So no one ever wraps a kimono that way ever?”
“Only in preparation of a body...and foreigners.” Rei shook her head. “It isn’t just kimono, but all wafuku--Ah...”
“Traditional Japanese clothing.” He nodded. “I know. No one ever told me about the wrapping thing; the girls in the shop didn’t say anything. I guess they were being polite.”
After picking up her glass, Rei sat back again and leaned one elbow against the couch with her knuckles against her cheek. “Mmm. Of course, there could be another reason.”
“Oh?” Jermi met her smile with an inquisitive one.
“Dead man walking.”
It started with his soft chuckle, but soon the pair had dissolved into a laughing fit. “I think,” said Jermi, “This rum is getting to us.”
“Maybe.” Rei grinned. She didn’t think one glass was going to go to her head, and yet she felt more relaxed than she had since she’d first been called to Kyoto. Her eyes met Jermi’s once again, and she thought he might feel the same way.
Then he kissed her.
For a split second Rei sat stunned. Then her eyes closed and one hand was at the back of his neck, drawing him closer. Jermi’s hands found her waist. He tugged her to him, until his arms had wrapped entirely around her. They were strong, and warm, and Rei knew this was far more dangerous an intoxication than the alcohol.
What had begun tentatively was soon ferocious and needy. Her shoulder-wrap was gone in a matter of moments, and she’d climbed astride Jermi’s lap. His hands were at her sides and in her hair, and up the back of her shirt. As he dropped kisses down her neck and shoulder, she curled her fingers into his hair and breathed in the herbal scent of his shampoo.
“Oh!”
They both jumped. Jermi’s hands clutched at her in surprise and Rei turned to see Angela in the doorway. She had her hands over her mouth, and her face had gone decidedly pink. So had Takashi’s.
Rei pulled the straps of her bra and shirt back up.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Takashi strode into the room as Rei climbed off Jermi’s lap. Jermi glanced between the two of them, but seemed at a loss; Rei realized a second later that her father had switched to Japanese.
She grabbed her wrap off the couch. Jermi got to his feet. “I know you’re probably surprised--”
“Rei, answer me.” Merely lifting a brow at her father, Rei shrugged her wrap back on, and brushed past him on her way to the doorway. “Rei!”
At the door, she stopped and turned to face Jermi. “Call me.” Angela was still staring when Rei shut the door behind herself.
Minako answered her phone on the third ring. “Hello?” There came a thumping noise over the phone as Minako yawned into the receiver. Rei didn’t stop her pacing.
“I was a pair of jeans away from a one night stand, and my dad walked in.”
There was a pause. “Mako-chan?”
“This is Rei.”
“...you had a one night stand.” Minako’s voice still hadn’t cleared, but she sounded a little more awake.
Regardless, Rei blundered on: “Nearly. Very near. Did not.” The clock in the hall chimed eleven as Rei turned, suddenly, and went out the open door onto the porch.
“OK, so your dad walked in on the one night stand you weren’t having?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t--oh my god.” Rei winced as Minako squealed. “Your step-brother?”
In the distant background, there was another thump, and a yowl. Then, she heard Artemis ask: “The hell?”
“They’re not married yet!” Rei hugged herself with her free arm and squatted at the edge of the porch. She leaned against one of the thin colums that held the roof aloft and watched golden backs of her grandmother’s koi as they glided through the water.
“OK, OK,” Minako said softly. “Tell me what happened.”
Rei went over herday in as slow and collected a manner as she could manage. Somehow, it got entangled with the party the night before, and how her father had broken the news in the first place. During this, Minako was quiet save for a moment spent transferring Rei onto speaker phone. Though Artemis was there as well, listening in, Rei didn’t mind--the cat was as much her friend and confidant as Minako was.
“Now he’s acting like your father?” Minako scoffed. Something metal clashed on the other end, and Rei figured that she must be making a midnight snack.
“I don’t know where he gets off on this,” Rei said after a moment. “He runs off and marries some woman on the fly, and dares to demand explanations for my behaviour.”
“Well he did walk in on...that.” Artemis paused thoughtfully. “Not that I agree with him, but I can see why a father would be startled.”
“He doesn’t act like a father at any other time,” Minako said when Rei remained silent. “I don’t think that he has any right to do so now.”
“Mm,” said Rei. In another moment she sighed. “I’m sorry I woke you up, I just--I just don’t get him. It’s frustrating.”
“It’s okay.” The smile in Minako’s voice was enough to set Rei a little further at ease. The priestess closed her eyes and set her temple against the cold, ancient pillar. “I understand. Trust me.” Artemis laughed softly. “Mine aren't exactly wonderful, either. Sometimes the best plan is to just ignore them. Follow your heart.”
“Mn. It wasn’t my heart that got me into this one.”
Artemis choked. “Gah. Can you not say things like that? You’re like my daughters!” Much to his annoyance, the girls dissolved into laughter.
Breakfast was still on the table when Rei entered the living room the next morning. Emiko was already at the table, with a clove cigarette in one hand and a paper in the other. As this was no formal occasion, the woman had her hair twisted into a bun and was wearing a tired, scathingly fuchsia sweat suit. She looked up when Rei reached for the teapot. “You had a late night.”
“I was at papa’s hotel,” Rei said. The tea was jasmine--both of their favorite. Rei took a deep breath of the steam rising off her cup.
Putting aside her paper, Emiko gestured at her granddaughter with her cigarette. “Your father called. He had a rather interesting story to tell.”
Closing her eyes, Rei bit her lip to keep from sighing. One long sip of tea later, she set the cup aside and dished herself up some rice porridge. “I’m sure he did.”
To her surprise, Emiko chuckled. The old woman shook her head and drew upon the cigarette; smoke curled out of her nose as she said, “You’ve shaken him, to say the least.”
“He cannot be surprised that I’m an adult.” Rei’s plate found the table with a clack.
One of Emiko’s eyebrows arched. “Ah, but he is. You spent a lot of time apart, Rei-chan. He still sees a little girl; he would, I suspect, no matter what had happened.”
Rei shook her head. Her fingers closed around her chopsticks but she didn’t pick them up. “And I’m to blame for this?”
“No. He’s being an ass.” Emiko tapped her cigarette against a jade ashtray. “But I do expect you to give him no quarter.”
A helpless smile pulled itself onto Rei’s lips. She chuckled softly and helped herself to some of the sausage. “I won’t.”
Her grandmother bowed her head in thanks, and took another pull on her cigarette. “Have they set the date?”
Rei frowned. Quickly, she chewed her mouthful and swallowed. “The wedding’s tomorrow.”
“No, dear, for your ordination.”
“Ah.” After a moment she shook her head. “No. They’re still deliberating. There’s some...issue of my gender.”
Emiko nodded thoughtfully. She took a sip of her tea before she said, “Then perhaps it would be best not to complicate their decision until it’s done with, mm?”
Staring again at her breakfast, Rei found that she suddenly didn’t want it anymore. “Why does that have to matter?”
“Why does the sun have to shine?” Emiko tapped out the end of her cigarette. “It doesn’t. Nevertheless, it decided to a very long time ago and isn’t liable to stop any time soon.”
Later that morning, Emiko was sitting on the porch, cigarette in one hand and a fan in the other, and watched the ducklings swimming in her koi pond. They were adorable things, and would someday make a very fine dinner.
She tapped the end of her cigarette on the side of the porch. “What do you want?”
The man, who had been standing to the edge of her vision, moved forward into the sunlight, around the end of the porch. With his back straight and chin lifted, Jeremiah seemed every inch the over confident American. Emiko blew smoke out her nose.
He stopped a few feet from her and took his hands out of his pocket while he gave an absurdly low bow. “Hino-san, I apologize for interrupting you this fine day,” he said--in nearly perfect Japanese.
Emiko raised an eyebrow and wondered, briefly, if her granddaughter had any idea about that. “Oh, stand up.” Flicking her hand at him, Emiko resisted a roll of her eyes. “False modesty doesn’t become you, boy.”
A smile cracked over his lips, and he gave an airy chuckle as he straightened himself. He muttered something in English, then said: “I was wondering if Rei were home.”
“Yes, I never get anyone calling on me these days.” Emiko laughed at the surprise and shame that graced his face, and she shook her head. “Relax, I don’t mean that. Come. Sit. You’re to be my grandson--of sorts--aren’t you?”
The man stared at the porch she patted, then he did as asked. Picking up her pack of cigarettes, Emiko offered him one, and he shook his head. “Thank you, but no.” Instead, Jeremiah drew a pack from his jacket and held them up. “No disrespect meant, but I prefer my own.”
“You’re American, you can get away with it.”
Jeremiah laughed again, and favored Emiko with a white-toothed grin. She could see what Rei saw in him. Were she several decades younger...Emiko took a drag on her cigarette as he said, “You and Rei are very much alike.”
“I like to think so,” Emiko said with a nod and smile. “She’s a good girl, my Rei.”
He drew a lighter from his pocket and flicked it on. When he’d lit the stick between his lips, he put everything away again and leaned forward onto his knees. “Hino-san seems very proud of her.”
Scoffing, Emiko replied: “Only when she isn’t around.”
A silence drifted between them. Then, Jeremiah blew out a ring of smoke and asked: “Where is she?”
“With your mother.”
The Nikko Princess’ bar seemed quite a different animal in mid-day. It still reeked of luxury, of course, but the clientele was minimal and mild mannered; mostly business men on luncheon, Rei thought. Angela was perched on a bar-stool near the back of the room, bent over some files on the counter and sipping a highlighter-pink martini. Rei settled her purse beside the print-outs of various church weddings and a rather detailed sketch Angela was making with her ball-point pen.
“That looks like the cathedral.”
Angela jumped. Pressing one well-manicured hand to her breast, the American looked up with a startled giggle. “You scared me, dear. And it is, thank you. I was thinking we could do something like this with the decoration.”
After Rei had taken a seat, Angela handed the paper over. She’d drawn in bouquets of flowers at the end of every pew, strung together by ribbons of...gauze, Rei guessed from the translucence. There were flowers around the candle bases, and beneath the windows. If Angela were to have her way, it’d look like a garden grew in there. With a smirk, Rei handed it back. “Whatever you want.”
“But do you like it?” Angela’s brows raised and for the first time Rei noticed a hint of desperation in the woman’s manner. After a moment, Rei smiled.
“Yes. It will be beautiful.”
Like sunshine from behind a cloud, Angela grinned at her step-daughter. Looking up, she waved the bartender over and tapped her glass. “Two. More. Please,” she said when she’d gotten his attention. The bartender, whom Rei did not doubt understood English perfectly well, just nodded. She tried not to grimace when he set their drinks down in front of them.
The drink, much like Angela, was a little cloying for Rei’s taste. Regardless, she enjoyed the comfortable burn the booze offered. “About last night,” Angela began.
Choking faintly, Rei set her drink down a bit harder than necessary and pressed her free hand to her mouth. “Mm?”
Those bright eyes, so like her son’s, were watching Rei. Angela smiled faintly and leaned upon one elbow. “Do you like my son?”
Rei stared at Angela a long moment, waiting for the burning in her throat and nostrils to subside. Fortunately, that gave her some time to think. Unfortunately, her brain seemed to have flat-lined. “Nan da to?”
Angela stared blankly. Out the corner of her eye, Rei noticed the bartender perk up and lean, oh so subtly, in their direction. She took a few calming breaths. “My apology, Angela-san. I didn’t mean--”
The woman cut her off with a flapped hand and offered her a napkin. “Nonsense. I startled you! I should have known better anyway. Takashi always said you were a private sort.”
Unsure of what to make of that, Rei merely dabbed the napkin at her mouth. Angela continued, “Anyway, my point was that it’s OK, you know, if you were to date my son. I mean, I can see why Takashi was shocked, but he did rather blow it out of proportion, don’t you think? You’re both adults, and it isn’t like you’re actually related.”
Laughing, the woman finished off her cocktail, collected her papers, and patted Rei’s shoulder. “I just wanted to let you know that you have an ally. We girls have to stay together, don’t we?”
With that baffling statement, Angela left the bar. Rei followed in her wake, thoroughly speechless.
There were three flower shops in town which had white roses in stock, and they cleared out all of them. By late-afternoon the cathedral was swarming with decorators, with Rei and Angela in the middle of it all.
Angela had immediately taken charge of the situation; she stood at the pulpit to orchestrate the workers like a conductor. Two steps to her left, Rei translated as fast as she could. It wasn’t easy, and Rei stumbled more often than she liked, but not once did Angela stop to clarify any instruction. By sunset, the sanctuary looked like a fairy tale and Rei had sent off the last of the helpers with their pay-cheques. She returned to the sanctuary to find her father in conference with the priest.
Three blond women had materialized along with the senator: each were tall, smeared with makeup, and wore more designer accessories than most runway models. They gabbed with Angela in English too rapid and accented for Rei to understand. Rei hesitated and considered turning back out the door. Parkinson looked up; he smiled and waved her over.
“We can start as soon as Jeremiah arrives,” Parkinson was saying as Rei approached.
Takashi nodded. His hands were clasped before him and his shoulders tense. Not once did he look at his daughter. “Good, good.”
“What are we starting?”
“The baptism of course!” Angela grinned as she broke into the conversation. She wound herself about her fiancee’s arm.
The Father shifted slightly in place. “I understand that there is a reception just after the rehearsal. Perhaps you would like to prepare yourself for that, Hino-san?”
It was a moment before Rei realized he was speaking to her; Angela beat her to it: “Why wouldn’t Rei stay?”
Father Parkinson cleared his throat and his cheeks darkened. “I...that is--”
“I’ll stay,” Rei said. Even Takashi looked at her this time, and Rei noted the surprise in his eyes with some small satisfaction. “If I am welcome.”
“Of course,” Father Parkinson said with an inclination of his head, “all are welcome in the House of God, child.” He then excused himself to prepare for the ritual.
“She’s a priestess,” Rei heard Angela whisper to the trio of fashionistas.
“A protestant,” one of them guessed with a sage nod.
As the sanctuary door opened for her son, Angela shook her head. “No, no. Some Japanese cult.”
Instantly, Rei wished for nothing more than license to burn the building to the ground. Before she could break in, Angela and her gaggle of peroxide bimbos were cooing over Jeremiah. Her fists clenched, but a weight on her shoulder stopped her from doing anything. Looking up, she found her father at her side. In an instant he’d removed his hand, yet she still felt it there like a severed limb.
As someone who had seen many ridiculous things in her life time--up to, and including, a pair of talking space cats--Rei wondered why it was that this felt too surreal to be true. Before her, her father stood before a basin of “magic” water. Father Parkinson chanted as her father bowed before it, and let the priest pour the water thrice over his head.
“Are you alright?”
Rei startled. Jeremiah’s eyebrows lifted slightly, as though to reaffirm his question. She glanced past him to where Angela was watching Takashi, on the other side of the three fashionistas. None of the women had seemed to notice. Facing forward, Rei shrugged. “Perhaps.”
“She was out of line,” Jermie confirmed. “I’m sorry.”
“It is not you who need apologize.”
“Maybe,” Jermi said, and left it at that.
Her father rose, grumpy and with water dripping down his face. Though he didn’t say anything, Rei recognized the bothered frown and the throbbing vein in Takashi’s forehead. Then Angela had come around the pew with a hand towel to put about his shoulders. She kissed him, and though his cheeks heated at so public a display, he returned the gesture.
Rei’s stomach flopped and she looked away.
The three women, Rei soon learned, were Angela’s best friends from San Diego. They were all “sorority sisters,” whatever that meant, and ran or worked for very successful American businesses. One of them, a woman by the name of Daphne, held stock in the company which Jeremiah worked for. For all their flighty, extravagant ways, they were well learned--at least, in American ways.
After the baptism and the subsequent rehearsal of the ceremony, there was another reception at the Nikko Princess. This one was held in the banquet hall, the same place the main reception would be the next day.
Daphne and her two “sisters” had organized this event through the hotel’s event staff. Everything was white, crystal, and gold--not at all unlike what Rei imagined Usagi’s wedding would one day be. A pianist played a soft melody from the baby grand in the middle of the room, around which a square of dining tables had been built. Rei’s place had been set to her father’s left, and Jermi, to her annoyance, was down the table beside his mother.
She’d only had a few minutes to wonder if she were going to be forced to talk to her father all night when the chair next to hers was pulled out. “Rei-chan,” said an all too familiar voice, “It is has been quite some time.”
Every fiber of her being tensed as her dining partner sat down. “Kaidou-san,” she said softly, and did not look at him.
The young minister rested his hands upon the table, leaning forward in a slight bow. Rei wasn’t sure if this was in deference to her, or some other politician he had seen further down the room. It didn’t matter, in the end. “You look well,” he said.
“I am.” She gave him a sharp look, then, and noted that there was no woman at his side. “And you?”
Kaidou smiled slightly. “Well,” he said, “I hope you’ll accept my congratulations.”
“For what?” Rei picked up her wine and drained half of it. Most of the guests were seated now and the waiters were going about the table, filling up plates. Beside her, her father was prattling in English. To her annoyance, Rei couldn’t translate him and converse at the same time. “I’ve nothing to do with this.”
Kaidou shook his head. “Your ordination.”
With a sigh, Rei tossed back the rest of her wine. “I’m not yet.”
The minister sat a little straighter and cleared his throat. His eyes tracked her glass as she gestured for a refill. “My apologies, I must have misunderstood.”
Her glass was full again and she took a firming sip. “Where’s your wife?”
“At home.” Kaidou began to pick at the salad which had been set out as the first course. “She’d hoped to be here, but our daughter came a few days early.”
Ignoring her plate, Rei took another sip and lifted a brow. “A few days early for--ah.” She frowned at that, and Kaidou had the presence of mind to look somewhat ashamed. A long draught later, Rei asked: “What’s her name?”
“Aiko.”
“That’s pretty.”
“Thank you.” The minister offered her a slight smile and, for an instant, Rei remembered what it had been like when she was younger. Sure, he’d been a college student and she only in junior high, but the long conversations they’d had, the late night phone calls...Blushing, she turned away and caught sight of Jermi looking at her from down the table.
Swallowing thickly, she reached again for her wine glass. “Why did you think I’d been approved?”
Kaidou still. Watching him in her peripheral vision, Rei realized that he’d donned that same, impassive face of a cornered politician she’d seen so many times in her life. She set down her glass and turned enough to meet his eyes. “Why did you think I had been accepted?”
“Rei-chan, be serious,” he said after a moment, his voice low, “You know how influential your family is.”
The world seemed to spin under her feet as the words hit home. Waiters moved in to take the course away and replace it. One refilled her glass. She took it up immediately and immersed herself in it. Beside her, Kaidou merely frowned and, after a moment, looked away.
Dessert didn’t come quickly enough. By that point, Rei’s head was buzzing a little. She stared her slice of inordinately well-dressed cheesecake and tried not to throw up. Kaidou had continued to ignore her for the rest of the dinner, instead talking over her head to her father, who seemed less than bothered by his daughter’s silence. In a strange moment of forgiveness--or maybe she just knew him--Rei decided that Takashi probably thought she was still mad at him. When wasn’t she?
At the end of the table, her grandmother was preoccupied with one of the peroxide-blonds, who seemed to think that English could be understood universally if you just spoke slowly enough. Somehow, the woman still had a face; Rei suspected her grandmother’s temper was only being held in check by much the same means as her own.
Suddenly the lights dimmed. The pianist closed the key casing and waited as an unseen projector flashed upon the far wall. Jeremiah stood at the far end of the room, and Rei imagined for a moment that he’d merely materialized there. That seemed normal, somehow, and she slapped a hand over her mouth to mask her giggles.
“Thank you all for coming tonight,” Jeremiah said. Somewhere in the background, his words were being repeated by a translator. “I know it means a great deal to my mother and future step-father. I also know that these sort of celebrations are done a little differently in Japan, most of the time, so for all of those who aren’t familiar with our customs, I’d like thank you for tolerating us.” He laughed, self-deprecatingly, and the room joined him. Several dark heads nodded, in agreement that all of this was rather strange indeed.
“When I first learned about my mother and the senator, I was a little surprised, to be honest. I didn’t have the foggiest idea how they would have met, or...well, mostly how they would have met! It isn’t every day a Japanese official finds love with an American interior designer. But when I saw them together, I think I understood.”
Rei found herself glancing at the couple to her right. Her father had his head bowed. She thought she’d see a frown there, or worry--she waited for his temper to explode--but it didn’t seem to be. She frowned.
“They understand one another, even when they don’t know the exact words. They have shared experiences, and hardships, even if they didn’t go through them together,” Jeremiah continued, his gaze upon the couple in question. As both children watched, Takashi’s hand found Angela’s. “And at the end of the day...what else is love but understanding?”
Jermi shook his head and chuckled. “This is, perhaps, becoming a little more sentimental than Hino-san would like, and I do hope he’ll forgive me for embarrassing him so.”
A soft chuckle rippled through the room as Takashi bowed a little over the table. A cold chill ran through Rei’s body; her father was laughing. His hand squeezed his bride’s, and she returned the gesture with a happy grin.
“So, I think I’ll just end this with a toast.” Jeremiah lofted his glass of wine. “To my parents.”
As the toast was taken, Rei rose. She turned and left the room, with the words “Now, if there is anything my sister would like to say...” ringing in her ears.
The third floor balcony was cold and windy. Rei chaffed one arm thoughtlessly as she stood to the far end, staring out at distant, barely perceptible stars. The fat crescent moon hung above like a reminder of the other home she’d lost long ago; the other family she barely remembered.
Three stories was nothing--she’d jumped from higher. Hell, Rei thought, she’d fought entire wars--she had died--and none of that seemed so hard as going back inside.
Then again, she was also rather drunk.
A desperate giggle escaped her lips at that, then another. Before long, she was laughing so hard it was soundless, with one arm wrapped about her middle and the other hand pressed to her mouth. She didn’t hear the balcony door open, didn’t realize she was no longer alone, until a hand fell upon her shoulder.
Jumping, she whirled and tripped into her father’s arms.
Rei shoved him away. Takashi stumbled, but only let her go when he was certain she wouldn’t fall. His eyes narrowed, and locked with hers.
To her horror, Rei’s own glare came with tears she could no more stop than she could hide. She rubbed at her face with both palms. “Just leave me alone,” she said when she’d found her voice.
“Rei-chan.”
“Don’t call me that!” A sob wrenched itself from her throat. “You don’t have the right. Turning her back to him, she sank onto a bench and pillowed her head in her arms. After a moment, Takashi settled on the bench next to her.
“What do you want me to say?” Takashi took off his glasses and began to clean them with a handkerchief. “I have tried everything I can think of: good schools, a generous allowance, supporting the shrine. I have taken every slight and abuse from you without the slightest word, and yet it never is enough, is it?”
Her hands slowly curled into fists as she turned her head to look up. “Clothes and jewelry. You think think that’s what I want? To be bought off?” She sat up and brushed a last, scalding tear from her sore eyes.
Takashi put his glasses back on so that he could better stare at her. When he said nothing, she continued: “I’m thankful for my education, but you should support the shrine from your own generosity...not because of me.” Rei looked at her hands. “You love her?”
“So that’s what this is about,” her father muttered.
“Answer me.”
“I do,” Takashi said, and leaned forward onto his knees. “I loved your mother as well. I still do, Rei.”
Rei shook her head and scoffed. Glancing to her side, she barely caught the pain on her father’s face, before he hid it. The woman pursed her lips. “There is nothing I can say if you’re not willing to listen,” he said after a moment. “If you cannot handle this, I understand. Angela won’t.”
With that, he got up. His jacket slipped from his shoulders, and then he placed it over her bare ones. Rei tracked him with her eyes until he paused at the balcony door. He turned, just slightly, to look back at her. “I am sorry for my part.”
When he was gone, she tugged her father’s jacket a little more tightly about her and looked once more at the moon.
Dinner had dissolved into dancing and drinks. Emiko didn’t really care to be there anymore than she’d cared to come--who needed more than an engagement party and a wedding reception? she thought--but she hadn’t seen her granddaughter since the girl had fled the banquet hall, and she was worried. Sipping her drink, Emiko gazed through the crowd on the dance floor, trying to pick out Rei’s face.
Angela swept past in her son’s arms. As Emiko watched, Takashi entered the floor and stopped them with a tap upon Jeremiah’s shoulder. The younger man bowed and gave over his mother’s hand, who grinned at him. Takashi, Emiko noted with some surprise, had somehow lost his jacket.
Jeremiah backed off the dance floor as the happy couple twirled away. He caught Emiko’s eye a moment, and she shook her head. His shoulders slumped, briefly, before a woman appeared at his side.
So that was where Takashi’s jacket went, Emiko thought with a smirk.
Rei offered Jeremiah a smile. Emiko wasn’t close enough to hear what they had to say, but there was no need to translate the hand Rei offered him. He took it, and let Rei lead him onto the dance floor.
