Total silence falls over the courtyard. There’s not even so much as a gasp. Just pure shock. All eyes are on us.
“People of Little Tokyo,” I say, my heart ready to pound right out of my chest, “please welcome back Grace Kim—Grace Rakuyama.”
A single cry pierces the air, something that sounds like a cross between a teenager meeting their idol for the first time and a wounded animal. A brightly colored blur streaks through the crowd, barreling straight toward us—Auntie Suzy, her yukata flapping around her.
“Suzy,” Grace whispers, her eyes widening.
But she doesn’t get any further, because Auntie Suzy sweeps her into a bone-crunching hug. Grace collapses against her, both of them sobbing. They’re so fused, I can’t tell where one begins and the other ends.
Finally, Auntie Suzy pulls back, taking Grace’s face in her hands. Studying her like she can’t believe she’s real.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “For everything. And I’m so happy you’re home.”
And then everyone’s crowding around Grace, shouting things, asking the kind of nosy Auntie questions they all love so much.
Belle and Rory jump up and down, trying to get her attention—asking if they can call her Auntie Grace and if she can show them how to do winged eyeliner and also if she’ll bring them to one of her movie sets.
Somehow this devolves into a messy dance party, the gigantic group hug migrating to the dance floor and grooving with the music. And before I even have a chance to look for him, I feel Henry’s hand reach through the crowd and take mine.
“Oh no,” I say. “Are you really trying to get me to dance again? Wasn’t I bad enough the first time?”
“Come on,” he says, grinning and pulling me against him.
“Mmm,” I murmur, as we sway in time to the music. “Well, even with the arrival of the long-lost daughter of Little Tokyo, I’m pretty sure my general appearance is about to attract everyone’s attention—for all the wrong reasons. Maybe I should go change?” I gesture to my dirty, torn princess dress. “Or at least fix my hair.” I point to the tangled mass of waves, a snarl that I don’t think even the most determined of tiaras would adhere to.
He draws me closer, one hand going to the small of my back, his mouth brushing my ear and sending a delicious shiver down my spine. “You look beautiful,” he says. “You look like you.”
He pulls back and gives me one of his smiles—hopeful and genuine. So Henry.
“What do you think?” he says, gesturing all around us. “Is this your happily ever after?”
I drink in the scene. Those twinkle lights are still twinkling. Everyone’s dancing and laughing. Auntie Suzy and Auntie Och, gazing deep into each other’s eyes and looking more in love than ever. Eliza and Sensei Mary, showing Joanna a judo move—which she seems to be taking extremely seriously. Grace, twirling around the floor with Belle and Rory, all of them giggling so hard, they’re about to topple over.
Everyone is so themselves.
I turn back to Henry and smile. And I realize I can still feel the nure-onna inside of me—fierce, protective, passionate. And yes, sometimes angry. Because there’s nothing wrong with being angry. You need that anger, to tell you when something’s not right. To tell you when you care. To show you when you need to fight hard for what you want and stand up for the people you love.
That door to my heart is wide open, and I know exactly where I belong.
“It’s not the kind of happily ever after I imagined,” I say. “But it’s mine. And I’m finally ready for it.”
Once upon a time, a beautiful monster princess undertook an epic quest throughout the magical kingdom of Los Angeles. She slayed many dragons, was blessed with wisdom from her fairy godmother, and reunited with her mother, the long-lost queen. She also met a handsome prince, and they learned how to truly save each other—even when they thought they didn’t need saving.
After she returned to her village, triumphant, she partied until dawn at the Nikkei Week gala, surrounded by her wonderful family and all the love in the world. She and her fellow princess Eliza even did an impromptu judo demonstration at said gala—yes, in her giant princess dress—which many people recorded and posted, and somehow it went viral, leading to UCLA scholarships for both princesses.
There was much rejoicing throughout the land, especially since her handsome prince planned on staying in the kingdom of Los Angeles for months to come, shooting the starring role in his amazing new movie and visiting many enchanted alleys with her. And she and her mother could finally get to know each other as they were meant to.
The princess never thought her life could feel so full. So beautiful. So magical.
Just like a fairy tale.
And she lived . . .
She lives. Happily ever after.
Her story isn’t over yet.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Writing this book felt like magic, and I am grateful to so many people. But first, a special thank-you to one of my favorite places in LA—Little Tokyo, you are a beautiful wonderland that provided me with so much inspiration. The Little Tokyo in this book is, of course, a fictionalized version of the real Little Tokyo and the community therein—the annual summer festival is a little different, Katsu That is not a real restaurant, and there is no massive photo collage at Suehiro (which is one of the best places for Japanese comfort food—that part is true). Some of the other elements are real and some are imagined. There is, for example, no major scandal involving a movie star—at least not that I know of. But Mr. Sherman the cat totally exists.
Thank you to my many superhero teams: the Girl Gang(s), the Shamers, the Ripped Bodice crew, Heroine Club, Asian American Girl Club, Team Batgirl, the Kuhn-Chen-Coffey-Yoneyamas, the writing sprint squads, the Millsies,
