Page 162 of The Dragon 2
“Oh wow.”
“Lots of embassies, luxury residences, and high-end art galleries. My place is right on a private hill above Azabu—secluded, but close enough to see the Tokyo skyline shimmer through floor-to-ceiling windows.”
“Damn, Kenji.” She snapped. “Talk your shit.”
I grinned. “It’s traditional but modernized. Shoji screens, dark wood beams, heated tatami floors. There's a reflecting pool in the back garden that mirrors the moon so clearly you’d think you could touch it.”
“Oh my God.”
“On clear days, you can see Mount Fuji on the horizon.”
“No way.”
“Rare, but possible at times." I looked at my cocktail. “On rainy nights, the entire city turns to gold behind the glass just like magic.”
“That sounds amazing. Do you love being there?”
I put my view back on her. “I actually don’t spend as much time there as I should.”
“Why not?”
Chapter thirty-one
The Hoe Pad
Kenji
I swirled the rest of my cocktail, watching the curl of zest spiral through amber light.
Her question lingered in the air longer than I wanted it to.
I didn’t answer immediately.
How would I tell her my home was a lonely echo chamber that reminded me too much of being untouchable?
“Kenji. . .tell me.”
I put my view on her. "It’s too quiet in my mansion."
"But quiet sounds nice."
"Not this kind of quiet. Where every step you take bounces back at you like it’s asking why you even came home."
Her expression softened.
"Every sound echoes, my footsteps, the shift of fabric, the breath I take after a long day—it all comes back louder. As if the house wants me to feel. . .”
“Feel what?”
“The absence of something."
Nyomi didn’t speak.
I looked away. "So, I stay at my office more often than I should. Reo hates it, but I sleep at my club a lot."
She smirked. "You sleep in that dark-ass club like Batman?"
I let out a soft laugh. "Sometimes."
