He sputters for a few moments more, his gaze finally landing on me.
“This is all your fault,” he hisses, his eyes filled with ice-cold hate. “Fucking half-breed mistake.”
My kaiju-temper sparks, sending fresh waves of rage coursing through my bloodstream. I imagine myself as the nure-onna, flames rising around me, my anger sure and true.
“No, it’s not,” I snarl. I step forward and feel a vicious twist of satisfaction when he steps back, panic crossing his face. “And I am not a mistake—that is so . . . fucked-up to even say that. A person can’t be a mistake.”
The truth of that hits me right as the words come out of my mouth. The image I saw in the JACCC mirror—that monster princess who felt so whole—swims through my consciousness. I am real. I am who I’m meant to be.
“And if you ever spew your disgusting hate at me or anyone in this family—this community—ever again, I won’t hold back,” I declare.
“What, you’ll bite me again?” he says—but his words don’t have the same heat behind them. It’s like whatever spell was keeping his noble-prince persona in place is melting away, layer by layer, and now I can see him for what he really is. First he morphs into a fairy tale villain, a sneering troll under a bridge. And then a sad little boy who isn’t doing anything with his life except drumming up drama, obeying his father’s toxic wishes, and bullying everyone “beneath” him so he can feel important.
“Any power you thought you had over me—over anyone—is gone,” I say, the fire in my chest burning brighter with every word. I bare my fangs at him, just as the nure-onna would. “I don’t have to bite you—but you know what? Don’t test me.”
I take another step forward, and he steps back again, stumbling into the entryway. I get right in his face—and despite my giant princess gown, I don’t stumble at all. In fact, the sheer grandeur of the dress makes me feel powerful—like the monster princess I am.
“Get out,” I growl. “Now.”
He stumbles out the door and into the street, his face getting redder by the second. I picture the nure-onna, smiling with the satisfaction—and a glow forms around my pulsing rage.
“Bad. Ass!” Rory shrieks, breaking loose from Auntie Och and running up to me. She throws her spindly arms around my waist and hugs me hard. “Wow, he fucking sucks!” She claps a hand over her mouth. “Oops. Sorry, Moms!”
“No, Rory-chan, you are correct,” Auntie Och says, nodding vigorously. “He does fucking suck.”
“He’s no match for our Rika,” Belle says, beaming at me.
“Still fighting as hard as the day she was born,” Auntie Suzy says, her eyes lit with pride.
“Mmm, what a rude boy,” the mochi-demo Auntie murmurs. “I’ve been wanting to tell him off for years.”
I smile at all of them, my nure-onna hissing contentedly. I feel so powerful.
I slayed some kind of fairy-tale villain. And as I look around the room, I realize: I didn’t do it alone. They all stood with me. They fought with me.
They wouldn’t let me throw myself away.
“It shouldn’t have taken years to condemn such hateful attitudes!” Auntie Och exclaims, slamming a hand on one of the tables. “This nonsense we put up with for so long—all the secrets, all the shame in our community, all this making people feel like they don’t belong—it need to end now.” She crosses her arms over her chest, her regal white-streaked mane twitching indignantly. “We shouldn’t have lost Grace the way we did. Suzy always used to want us to stay hidden, make sure we don’t rock that boat. But sometimes the boat—it need to be rocked!”
“Wait . . .” I murmur, realization flashing through me. I’m remembering the day of the parade, how Auntie Och agreed way too easily to my scheme. “You put me in that yukata—in my mother’s old yukata—on purpose!”
“Hai,” she says, grinning proudly. “I knew Suzy was trying to keep you away from Grace—she wanted you working that restaurant shift because she was afraid your mother would see you.”
I shake my head, trying to process. “You both knew she was grand marshal. You thought she might recognize me . . .”
“Why this such a surprise?” Auntie Och says, giving me a look. “Listen, Rika-chan, when I put you in that yukata, I didn’t necessarily guess there would be all this chaos. But . . .” Her gaze turns sly, and now I can really see the hell-raiser she used to be. “I also don’t think chaos is bad. Like I said, communities need to change and grow along with the people in them, ne?”
“Yes,” Auntie Suzy says. “And our community needs to be way, way better about condemning attitudes like Craig’s and Uncle Taki’s.”
“That’s right,” Uncle Hikaru says, nodding at Auntie Och and Auntie Suzy. “When I think of how we all treated Grace back then, I am ashamed. She was a child, and she was ours. She deserved better.”
“We need to strike back against those who try to cast people out,” the mochi-demo Auntie says. “I can see now how this damages all of us in so many ways.”
“It tears the very fabric of the community,” Sensei Mary says. She beams at me. “I’ve always said that.”
My heart swells as I look at each person in the room in turn. Sensei Mary, who always let me take lessons at the dojo, even when I started shit with other kids and my family was short on money. Uncle Hikaru, who never batted an eye when I sat in the back of his mochi shop for hours, reading my monster stories. My family, who has always loved me unconditionally—even when they couldn’t express it exactly right.
I do belong here, and I do belong to them. I always have.
But my heart was shut up too tight to ever see it. And the more I was hurt by someone’s words . . . the more I was convinced that I was a mistake . . . the more
