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“I don't get it. Why won't the twins accept me? Now that I think about it, they are a big reason why I feel like an outsider. An imposter here. "Don't you ever get tired? Of being so mean? First, you call me a gaijin." A fresh wave of humiliation hits me, remembering how they'd spat the word at me at the prime minister's wedding reception. "Then you tried to trick me with that dress." Noriko squints at me. "What dress?" "For the sultan of Malaysia's welcome banquet," I hiss, staring at them. "You know what? Never mind. I forgive you. You can't help being so awful when that's what you've been raised with. You're products of your environment." It's a bad idea to rattle the wasp nest, but I don't care. Noriko shakes her head. "That dress----" Akiko puts a hand on her sister's arm, stopping her. I sit back in the chair and cross my arms, wrinkling the kimono even more. "You two are so much like the tabloids that bully your mother, and you don't even know it." There is a gasp. I can't tell from which one, Akiko or Noriko. But I can tell you how many effs I give right now. Zero.”

“I pluck the package of yuzu gummies from Eriku's palm and pop one in my mouth. "Umai!" I moan. "Now I know where all your energy comes from." I am fueled by sugar and love. The rest of the afternoon, I eat yuzu gummies, and by the end of our session, I know the ins and outs of ionic, metallic, and covalent bonds. After that, he brings a new sweet every day. "It will help with your memory," he asserts. "Scents and flavors create specialized neurological pathways." He flips open a textbook. "Today is Tokyo Banana and intermolecular force." It goes on. Meito Cola Mochi Candy paired with changes of substances. Hokkaido melon with mascarpone-cheese-flavored Kit Kats and inorganic chemistry. We finish with Eiwa coffee-flavored marshmallows and organic chemistry.”

“She takes up the brush, dips it, and, on the same piece of paper, executes the first stroke. "Do not think about the character you're making. Only think about the line, the single movement. It's like a dance, ne? If you concentrate too much on the final steps, you will miss the present ones." Another stroke, one more, and she has completed the pictograph. It is beautiful, worthy of being on a wall, and I say so. She shakes her head. "I still have much to learn, but it is passable. It doesn't have to be perfect, however. Kanji is an expression of the soul.”

“Careless of her own life, the princess sought to protect the precious new life first. This is in contrast to her cousins, Princesses Akiko and Noriko, who shoved their imperial guards in front of them." Mariko stops and takes one overexcited breath. Her cheeks are flushed. She is dreamy-eyed. This is what gets her excited. Good to know. "They compare you to the empress after the 1923 earthquake!" The empress rolled up her sleeves and laid bricks for a new school. She refused to leave until the town was fed, the children safe. There is a famous picture of her hugging a mother who lost her son, both of their cheeks coated in dust. "They end with calling you our very own royal." Words fail me. Mariko seems to know I need a private moment. She places the article in my lap, then glides out the door. When she's gone, I pick it up. I rub my thumb over the last sentence of the article. It's not the royal part that warms me. No, it's the other two words. Very own, it says. Very own. Yes. That's me. A true daughter of Japan.”

“There was always an unspoken expectation that I would return one day and follow in my father's footsteps as an imperial guard. My mother grew ill, forcing my father into early retirement. I did my duty." "That seems unfair." He huffs out a breath. "It feels unfair. But my parents were older when they had me. You know, the last remnants of a postwar generation, brought up to value sacrifice, discipline, and duty." "Whoa. Gimu. Peak Japanese." Japanese language is subtly nuanced. There is a myriad of words to describe duty, and among them is the gimu----a lifelong obligation to family or country.”

“The Imperial Household Law stipulates that only men whose fathers are emperors may inherit the throne. However, some scholars may argue that such law violates the principle that men and women be treated equally as set forth in Article 14 of the constitution." "You've studied the constitution?" The emperor eyes me keenly. "Yes," I say evenly. Thank you, Mariko and Mr. Fuchigami. "Historically, there has been precedence for females to reign." I list off the eight empresses, speaking in my own self-interest. Might as well. Men have been doing it for years. "We might even argue the goddess Amaterasu was the first to rule," I say lightly. My father smiles behind his hand. The empress takes a sip of tea. "I am inclined to agree with you.”

“You went to save her son before yourself." His voice drops and he says quietly to me, "You shouldn't have done that." "Of course I should've," I volley back. He stands there and exhales slowly. The tension eases from his body. "You're right," he says, voice measured, deliberate, soft. There's a glint in his eyes, unguarded and affectionate. "My mistake. I won't forget again. You lead with your heart.”