And I believe it. I let myself fall.
FIFTEEN
I eventually come back to earth and remember that Sensei Mary probably won’t appreciate it if she returns the next morning and finds that (1) I have not locked up, the one and only task she requested of me, and (2) I’m still rolling around on the mats with Henry Chen, and the stuff we’re “practicing” definitely has nothing to do with judo.
So we disentangle ourselves and I do lock up, say goodbye to Henry, and walk home. We have our mission set for tomorrow. We’re going to get on that lot, Henry’s going to slay his audition . . . and maybe I’ll finally meet my mother.
Henry and I don’t really talk about what just happened between us. I guess I feel like saying anything will puncture the euphoria, that wildness I found myself so swept up in. But as I walk through the muggy evening air, reality starts to puncture my blissful-feelings bubble.
I felt safe with him.
What does that even mean? Why do I feel that now and so . . . naturally . . . when I’ve never been able to get anywhere close to that before, with anyone?
How can I trust it?
My head feels so mixed up. My heart is still swelling, carried away as it tries to store up every precious sensation—every kiss, every touch—to relive later. Both of these things are happening at the same time, turned up full blast, trying to drown each other out. I usually love that kind of wild juxtaposition, but this time? I most sincerely do not.
I let myself into the apartment, slip off my shoes, and pause in front of the mirror hanging in our entryway. I don’t know what I expect to see. The return of the nure-onna? The beginnings of the princess?
But this time I just see . . . me.
My clothes are rumpled, the collar of my shirt stretched out to expose that tender hollow between neck and collarbone that Henry was so, um, interested in. My lips are swollen from all that kissing. And my hair is, of course, a mess—not that it’s ever really anything less, but it’s an extra snarly tangle right now, sticking out every which way, practically tying itself in knots.
I stare at myself for a moment, expecting the image to shimmer, to change into something else. For my armor to reinstate itself and contain all of these too-big emotions that want to come spilling out of me.
It doesn’t happen.
I stand there, shifting from foot to foot, considering. I could slip back to my room, wrap myself up tight in bed, shove everything down until all of these things roaring through my heart and mind quiet down. It’s what I’m used to doing when I’m trying to control my temper.
But . . . I don’t want to do that right now.
So. Where do I put all these feelings?
I find myself wandering through the apartment. The living room is empty—Auntie Suzy and Auntie Och are probably still feeding the hungry Nikkei Week crowds at Katsu That. I eventually end up in front of Belle’s bedroom door, and before I can think too hard about why I’m doing what I’m doing, I knock.
“Come in!” she bellows over the perky K-pop beat blaring into the hall.
I enter the room and find her sprawled on her bed with Nak, both of them in their pink sweatsuits. Nak is once again trying to chew one of the sleeves off.
“Rika-chan!” she sings, sweeping out an expansive arm to beckon me closer. “Where have you even been? I’ve barely seen you since you brought your very special guest to Katsu That yesterday. Why haven’t you responded to any of my texts with more than, like, one word? What’s going on with the Mom Quest? And why won’t you tell me what kind of studying you’ve been doing with Hank Chen?”
She sits up eagerly, jostling a put-upon Nak in the process. He gives her an aggrieved look and goes back to chewing his sleeve.
I sit down next to her on the bed, wondering where to even start.
“Henry’s still helping with the Mom Quest,” I finally say, thinking that this sort of encompasses both things she’s asking about. “We’ve had some leads about where Grace might be, and nothing’s panned out yet. But tomorrow . . .” A small smile plays around the corners of my mouth. “We have an idea of where she’ll be, and I actually think it might work out?”
“Ooooh, intriguing!” Belle says, slapping her bright pink duvet. Nak lifts his tiny head to frown at her for jostling him again. “And very mysterious, Rika-chan.”
“Not so mysterious,” I say, laughing a little. “Henry has an audition on the Pinnacle lot, and we’ve heard Grace will be there for reshoots. So I’m going to sneak around until I find her.”
“I love it,” Belle says, her eyes flashing with eagerness. “Do you need me to come along? I’m sure I can convince any pesky security people you encounter that you are there on very official and important business!”
“Not necessary, but thank you,” I say, laughing again. “I mean, technically we will be there on very official and important business—Henry’s audition.”
“Ah, yes, Henry.” Belle cocks an eyebrow at me, her gaze turning sly. “Such a wholesome dreamboat. What else is he helping you with?”
I meet her eyes, studying her. Now is when I usually pull away, stuff everything I’m feeling back inside because I don’t want her to see. I don’t want anyone to see. And every instinct I have is screaming at me to do that. Because I know if I put these too-big feelings out there, it’s like they become . . . real?
But this is why I came in here, isn’t it? Because my feelings are too big for my body. Because I don’t feel like stuffing them down this time.
So I take a deep breath and release them into the space between us.
“We . . . did some things,” I begin, my face immediately heating up as the “some things”
