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My husbands quickly catch up to me and our driver floors it, speeding to intercept Shinji’s cousin before she gets to a major intersection. I hold onto the grab handle as our driver takes our urgency to heart and drives like he’s a Formula 1 driver instead of a bodyguard/chauffeur.
Within minutes, the car spins to a stop in front of Hikaru’s car. Shinji leaps out while Takeshi and I roll the window down to observe from inside. The only threat Hikaru poses is one to our tear ducts, but she’s just as likely to fall victim to a crying jag as me.
She winds down her window, proving me right. Tears streak down her face, but she faces Shinji with a hopeful expression.
“I can’t call you to tell you when and where to meet if I don’t have your number.”
A smile breaks out on Hikaru’s face. For the first time, I see a small resemblance to her and Shinji.
I pat my belly and speak to my babies for the first time. “Between the Kimura’s and Nakashima’s you’re going to have so much family you’ll never know what it’s like to be alone.”
EPILOGUE
Takeshi
“Chiisai senshi no megami, time to wake up,” I whisper in Angel’s ear while nudging her from a peaceful slumber. “We’ve arrived.”
I’m still getting used to the new name, but it fits. She is an angel, a warrior goddess, and anything else she wants to be. Truth is, she could go by a million names, none of them matters as long as she calls me husband.
Angel blinks awake, her sable eyes focusing on my face as the remnants of her dream fade. After almost twelve hours in the air, she must still be tired. She rolls over and closes her eyes again, but I pull her upper body into a seated position.
“You’ll have plenty of time to sleep later.” I barely suppress my excitement. We’re about to land in Tokyo where Shinji and I will show Angel my homeland.
My enthusiasm must be working on her because she becomes more alert by the second.
While I fight to contain myself, she shakes her limbs as if stretching to do a cheerleading routine. Her need to ampherself is understandable. Once we leave the airport, she’ll meet the most influential person in my life, my grandfather, Akihiko Kimura.
He’s our oyabun who runs the global Kimura conglomerate, and the man who practically raised me when families in our circle shunned me. He prevented me from isolating myself, and ensured Katsuo, Masanori, and I grew up more like brothers than cousins; a relationship that only deepened when we formally entered the organization.
“Angel, you’re going to love the food here.” Shinji stretches and twists his neck to loosen the stiffness from our travels. “Too bad you won’t get to indulge in eating sushi on this trip, but Japanese cuisine is so varied, you’ll never get bored.”
“I’m sure. Kori’s Japanese-inspired creations have already trained my palette.” Angel rises and dons her jacket.
I button it for her and draw her closer to kiss her nose. I rest my head against hers, inhaling her scent.
“I thought you were in a rush.” Shinji pats my shoulder and I separate from our wife to give him equal attention.
“When I want to savor my loves, nothing takes precedence.”
Shinji laughs. “I dare you to say that in front of your grandfather.”
“Don’t forget the omiyage,” I remind him, mussing his hair as he passes.
Once we’re ready, I usher everyone off the plane. Although I can get away with many things, not as much as Katsuo, I tend not to push my grandfather’s boundaries. My marriage to Shinji is the most daring I’ve been.
Like Katsuo, Akihiko had a woman in mind for me to marry. I had other ideas. Now, I’m about to present him with a wife he’ll probably object to, but I won’t hide her from him. Whenever Katsuo sends me here or has to travel to Tokyo himself, I’ll want my wife and husband close.
I peer down at Angel, wrapped up in her fur-lined pea coat. Her outerwear hides her visible pregnancy. She’s never been more adorable. Thanks to eliminating most of her stressors, she smiles more freely, her eyes sparkle even brighter, and her cheeks are fuller.
Grandfather won’t stand a chance.
We arrive at Akihiko’s high-rise in Minamiaoyama-chome and take the elevator to the forty-ninth floor.
As soon as the doors open, the familiar face of Akihiko’s so-honbucho, Yuichi, appears. He bows and takes our coats. “Obayan awaits you upstairs in his private quarters.”
We remove our shoes for the offered slippers and leave Yuichi to his devices. At the threshold of Akihiko’s sitting room, we wait for his permission.
“I’m an old man who likes sunrises, will you keep me up so late I’ll miss tomorrow’s?” Akihiko’s voice comes from deep in the room and out of sight.
