Page 63 of Her Fearless Ronin

She grinned, her playful side emerging. “Plus, I can already see Hope and I becoming fast friends. We need more strong women around here. It’s about time we balanceout all this testosterone.”

I laughed, the tension in the room dissipating. “I’ll drink to that.”

Violet winked, her mood lightening. “Just remember, Jiro, love is a journey. And with Hope by your side, it’s a journey worth taking.”

I hesitated, my fingers drumming on the edge of the crib. “I’m heading to Seattle soon,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “It’s been three weeks since I last spoke to Hope. I’m… I’m worried about how she’ll receive me.”

Violet gently placed her son in the crib, ensuring he was snug and comfortable. She then turned to face me, her eyes searching mine. “Jiro,” she began, her voice soft yet firm, “when I ran away from Hoka, when I was at my lowest, wishing I could just disappear, even when I tried to convince myself I hated him… deep down, I always loved him.”

I swallowed hard, her words resonating with the turmoil within me.

She continued, “There’s this inexplicable connection, a pull that’s impossible to resist. It’s theikigai, I’m sure of it. Before I even knew what it meant, I felt it with Hoka. And I’m certain Hope feels the same about you.”

I looked down, my heart heavy with hope and fear. “But what if she doesn’t want this life here? What if it’s too much to ask?”

Violet stepped closer, placing a comforting hand on my arm. “Then you’ll know. But you won’t know unless you try. Go to her, Jiro. Be honest. Lay your heart bare, share your feelings, your fears, your doubts. Let her showyouthat, in the grandscheme of things, they matter so little compared to the love you share.”

I nodded, taking a deep breath. “Thank you, Violet. I needed to hear that.”

She smiled, her eyes warm and understanding. “Sometimes, all we need is a little push in the right direction. Now go and bring Hope back into your life.”

I stepped out of the house, the cool evening air brushing against my face. The sleek black car awaited me, its engine purring softly. Sliding into the back seat, I drummed my fingers on my leg, my mind racing with thoughts of Hope.

“Okay, Jiro,” I muttered to myself, trying to rehearse what I’d say to her. “Hope, from the moment I saw you again, my heart… um, did that thing. You know, the fluttery thing. And I realized… um, that you’re like… the peanut butter to my jelly?”

I groaned, slapping my forehead. “That’s terrible.”

I tried again, attempting to sound more poetic. “Hope, you’re the moonlight in my darkest nights, the… um, sugar in my coffee?”

I could almost hear Oda’s mocking laughter in my head. “Really, Jiro? Sugar in your coffee? Typical millennial,” he’d mutter, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

I sighed as the driver pulled onto the main road that led to the airfield. The city lights blurred past me, but all I could think of was Hope. “Come on, Jiro,” I pep-talked myself. “You’ve faced down dangerous men, navigated the treacherous world of the yakuza, you know how to kill a man a hundred and twenty-two different ways, and yet you can’t string together a simple love confession?”

I imagined Oda beside me, smirking. “It’s always the tough ones who struggle with matters of the heart,” he’d say, chuckling.

I rolled my eyes, even though Oda wasn’t really there. “Thanks for the pep talk,” I muttered sarcastically.

As the airfield came into view, I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. “Okay, one last try,” I whispered to myself. “Hope, from the moment I laid eyes on you, my world shifted. You’re the missing piece I never knew I was searching for. I love you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make you see that.”

It wasn’t perfect, but it was honest. And as the car parked and I headed toward the waiting plane, I hoped it would be enough.

As I settled into the plush seat of the plane, the engines roared to life, and we began our ascent. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and whispered a silent prayer, “Ancestors, grant me one last wish, one last shot at heaven. Let me keep my literal and proverbial Hope—that vibrant five-foot-two woman with purple hair and eyes so blue, I could drown in them and die with a smile on my face.” The plane soared higher, taking my hopes and prayers with it.

Chapter 20

Hope

The soft hum of the emporium’s air conditioning was the only sound that filled the space. The dim lighting cast a sultry glow over the shelves lined with an array of intimate products. It was a quiet day, with only a few customers drifting in and out,leaving me with more time than I’d like to be alone with my thoughts.

I was in the back room, restocking and organizing when my mind began to wander to Jiro. The quietness of the shop only amplified the emptiness I felt without him. Three weeks had passed, and the sting of his absence hadn’t dulled, and I had yet to figure out what I truly wanted to do with my life.

I should have just moved on; we’d been together not even a full month. It meant nothing in the grand scheme of things.

I snorted as I aligned the fruit-flavored lubricants on the bottom shelves. Come to think of it, Jiro had been gone almost as long as he’d been here, and I was still the stupid ten-year-old pining for him.

He had certainly moved on, back to his life as Hoka’s second-in-command, back to being the feared, powerful figure he was born to be. Where would a lost girl from Seattle fit in all of this? Nowhere. That much was clear from the painful silence.

Oda had been texting, joking, and being his carefree self now that he was back in Chicago, too far from Jiro to offer me any reassurance that the heartbreak was maybe mutual. But from Jiro? Nothing. It was as if he’d vanished, leaving me to deal with all the emotions he had awakened in me. The silence from his end was deafening, making me question the authenticity of everything we shared. Was it possible for such passion to simply evaporate?

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