“Sounds like the Asian way,” I mutter under my breath. I’m surprised to hear Auntie Suzy snort at that, like she’s on the verge of a laugh.
“What is going on here?”
We all swivel toward the piercing voice that’s broken into our sanctum, a dissonant disruption to all the crying.
And there, standing in the doorway of Katsu That, is the last person I expected to see.
Craig Shimizu. Glowering at the assembled crowd.
And then his gaze lands on me, and that glower turns to pure hate.
TWENTY
“What are you doing here?” Craig demands of me. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble?”
My temper stirs—I swear I can feel my nure-onna waking up, lifting her head.
But before it can fully ignite, Auntie Suzy steps in front of me.
“She hasn’t done anything,” she says—and her voice has so much steel in it, I do a double take. I have never heard Auntie Suzy—permanently exhausted, absentminded, “don’t rock the boat” Auntie Suzy—address someone with so much fire. “And if you want to talk about ‘trouble,’ Craig Shimizu, I would suggest you take a good, hard look at your own actions and delete all the bullshit you’ve been spewing online about my family.”
The room falls completely silent—save for Rory murmuring “Daaaaaamn” under her breath.
I’m with her, but I’m way too shocked to say anything. Auntie Suzy’s hands are planted on her hips, her spine is ramrod straight, and her eyes flash with something I’ve never quite seen before. It’s like she’s regaining all her witchy powers right before my eyes.
Surprise crosses Craig’s face, then he quickly coaxes his expression back into its usual smirk.
“Everything I posted is true—and for the sake of our community, I’m just so relieved all your family’s disgusting scandals are finally exposed. That none of you will be part of Nikkei Week and our great traditions now.” He sneers at me. “I knew you’d disgrace us all at some point—didn’t realize you’d be so stupid about it, though, toting the proof around in your pocket, where it could just”—his eyes drift to the floor of Katsu That—“fall out. Right where anyone could see it.”
“You . . . you took my pictures,” I murmur, the puzzle pieces snapping together. “They must have fallen out of my pocket that day when Henry was here and . . .” I shake my head. “You gave them to some gossip site?”
He shrugs, his smile widening. Clearly enjoying himself. “Just doing my part to take out the trash.”
A piercing cry rings out through the restaurant—and before I know what’s happening, a tiny figure zips through the crowd and launches herself directly at Craig Shimizu.
“No, Rory!” I shriek, throwing my arms around her and pulling her back before she makes contact.
“Don’t!” she screams, thrashing in my embrace. “I’m going to kill him!”
“No, you’re not,” I say, shoving her squirming form toward Auntie Och, who gathers her up.
I turn back to Craig and step forward, as if shielding my family, still clad in my ridiculous princess dress.
“Your problem is with me,” I say, rage sparking in my chest. But I don’t try to suppress it this time. I let myself feel it. “Don’t take it out on them.”
“It’s not just you,” he says, taking a step toward me, so we’re practically nose to nose. I refuse to step back, to give an inch. “It’s your whole fucked-up family. You just happen to be the most fucked-up. And no matter how badly you want it”—he smirks again—“you will never belong here.”
My kaiju-temper roars, and I’m about to fully let him have it . . . when I feel Auntie Suzy’s hand, squeezing mine.
“Your hate doesn’t belong here,” she says to Craig, that steel in her voice again. “That’s what hurts our community more than anything.”
“You need to watch your tone,” Craig warns—and now his eyes flash with something beyond his usual smirk. Something cold and mean. “My father can make sure all of you are banned for life—”
“No, he can’t.” Belle appears on my other side, drawing herself up tall—like the queen she is. “One person doesn’t have that kind of power—we are a community, are we not?” She casts an imperious look around the room.
“Hai—yes!” Auntie Och says, her arms still wrapped around Rory, who has stopped squirming and is now leveling Craig with a death-glare. “And communities need to change and grow along with the people in them. Your father need to learn that, too.”
“That’s right,” Sensei Mary says, getting to her feet. “And he might want to remember that head of the Nikkei Week board is an elected position.” She gives him a wry smile. “Which means we can elect someone else next year.”
“Hear, hear!” Uncle Hikaru says, nodding emphatically. “What about Suzy? She cares more about Little Tokyo than anyone!”
“Mmm, it’s about time we had a woman in charge anyway,” an Auntie chimes in—and I recognize her as one of the gossiping Aunties from the mochi demonstration. “The Shimizus always want Nikkei Week to stay exactly the same—”
“Because of tradition,” Craig spits out. “W-we can’t corrupt that. And besides, my father has always been elected head of Nikkei Week—”
“Not always,” Eliza says, rolling her eyes. “Nikkei Week existed long before your father did. And we can preserve tradition while still updating it, right?”
“That’s part of community, too,” Sensei Mary agrees.
“I’ll be more than happy to accept your votes,” Auntie Suzy says, her eyes flashing.
“You can go tell your father we’ll all be at the gala tonight,” Belle says defiantly. “And if he wants to kick up a fuss . . .”
“There’s nothing he can really do about it,” Uncle Hikaru says.
“Unless he wants to ban all of us,” Rory says, gesturing around the room.
“And it really won’t be much of a gala with no one there, will it?” the mochi-demo Auntie says with a perfectly judgmental eyebrow raise.
Craig sputters, unable to get a single word out, his face turning bright red. I keep waiting for someone in the room to break ranks, to denounce me or all the
