Page 13 of The Dragon 1 (Tokyo Empire #1)

Chapter nine

Clitoria

Nyomi

With my mace now in my hand, I headed over.

The person knocked again. “Please, open the door, Ms. Palmer.”

“I’m coming, sorry.” I could have sworn I heard a sigh of relief from the person on the other side.

What are you up to now, Kenji?

Kicking away the boots that I left by the entrance, I opened the door.

A teenaged boy with light blue hair down to his shoulders gazed back at me and held a big box that looked about three feet long and a foot wide.

Silver rings pierced his right nostril.

Baggy jeans hung on his slim waist yet he had the nerve to look me up and down as if I were the different one.

“Are you Ms. Palmer?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” A huge smile expanded over his face. Curiosity lingered in his eyes.

That seemed to be the expression I got from people here. As I explored the city, many did double takes, kids pointed like I was a peculiar creature, and some even snapped a picture.

The good thing was that they all seemed entertained by me passing them, so I never felt insecure.

And if I was truthful to myself, I studied them with the same inquiring wonder.

I tucked my mace into my back pocket. “Yep. . .I’m Ms. Palmer.”

“These are gifts from Mr. Sato.” He handed the box to me.

I grabbed the big package wrapped in shiny gold paper, thanked god it was light, and set it on the carpet.

Then, he pulled out another package from a bag I hadn’t realized he had on the side. This was wrapped in gold too and appeared to be the size of a thick book.

Why is Kenji giving me gifts?

I took it and looked at the boy. “You said I needed to sign something. Right?”

“Yes. You also have to answer the question in here,” he gave me a crimson envelope. “I’m to stay until you read and answer the letter.”

“Alrighty,” I opened it with no problem and slipped the crisp red sheet of paper out.

Black lettering decorated it.

Kenji hadn’t wasted a lot of words.

Only two sentences existed on the page:

To my naughty Tora,

Be dressed and ready for a date with me at 8pm tomorrow.

“How is this even a question?” I scrunched my face in confusion. “This is an order.”

He shifted his face to the ground and did a horrible job of hiding his chuckles.

Kenji has so much audacity.

I rolled my eyes.

So Kenji wanted a date, even after I harmed his special area? Hmm.

Maybe he likes getting kneed.

I’d have to ask him tomorrow, right when I begged for the return of my recorder.

However, with Zo’s rising anxiety over my kneeing the Dragon , I had to make sure that Kenji and I were cool. It wouldn’t be right for me to come visit Zo in Tokyo and leave with a Yakuza gang pissed at him.

I’ll go on this date for Zo. That’s it.

I said to myself like that was the only reason why I would go. I also ignored the way my body warmed at the thought of seeing Kenji again.

“Do you have a pen?” I asked. “I have an answer for his order .”

“Here you go.” He pulled out a rainbow-colored one and gave it to me.

I balanced the sheet on top of the box and wrote down my own message.

Dear Kenji,

I’m sorry for kneeing you in your groin but I don’t appreciate lots of unwanted groping. If you can keep your hands and lips to yourself, then I promise no further knee battles in your future.

I will meet you tomorrow, but not for a date.

I would love to sit down and discuss a compromise to my carrying on my observations in Kabukichō district.

I also want my tape recorder back.

Respectfully.

As I said before, that device means a lot to me.

Sincerely,

Nyomi

I considered underlining my name to prove a point that I wasn’t his Tora, but thought I’d pushed the situation enough with my letter.

Let’s see what he thinks of this.

I folded up the page, stuffed it back into the envelope, and returned it to the guy. “Thanks so much and be careful out there. It’s pretty late.”

He gave me a weird nod and rushed away.

Once I closed the door, Zo leapt out of the shadows. “What is it?!”

I jumped. “Holy shit you scared me.”

“What did he get you?”

I gestured at the two packages, “I have no idea.”

“I can’t believe he sent you gifts. You’ll need to give him something back.”

I lowered to my knees. “I will?”

“Definitely.”

“Why do I have to give him a gift?”

“Gift-giving is traditional and almost a social obligation at times. I’m always buying things when I go traveling. I store tons of stuff in my closet for these occasions. Here, if someone gives you a gift, you’re to give them something of at least equal value.”

“Awesome. Now he's bound me to buying him something,” I tore off the pretty paper and lifted the top of the box to open it. “Meanwhile, he’s stolen my freaking recorder.”

“Would you let the damn recorder go? It barely worked.”

“It served me just fine.” I pouted.

He mocked me. “It served me just fine.”

“Oh, just go fuck yourself, Zo.”

“I sure will, after we check out what the Dragon has given you.”

I picked up the smaller box and looked at it. I almost didn’t want to tear away the gold paper. It looked custom—too thick, too decadent, as if it had been rolled out of a secret boutique meant only for billionaires with sins to disguise.

Let’s see what he got me.

Carefully, I pulled the gold wrapping away and lifted the lid.

A book rested inside, nestled in tissue paper.

Alright.

Slowly, I pulled the book out and studied it. “When the Dragon Swallowed the Moon.”

“Oh.” Zo walked over. “What an interesting gift. I never figured the Dragon to be a fantasy reader.”

“Have you read this?”

“No. I’ve heard of it but never have been able to get a copy, especially one in English.”

“Kenji told me that only a few copies existed.”

“And now you have one.”

“Yeah.” I stared at it.

The cover shimmered as if it had been forged, not printed—deep obsidian and molten gold, blending like fire fading into the night.

The title curled across the surface in delicate silver ink: When the Dragon Swallowed the Moon.

The letters were soft, looping, and almost sensual.

I ran my fingers over the front without opening it and thought back to what he’d said about this book where a powerful hero could transform into a dragon.

“His every step to conquer the world had been greatly calculated. Every ally chosen. In fact, in his mind, all of his enemies were already buried. Then, he saw her. . .”

I flipped the book open. The pages smelled faintly of incense. There was no bookstore label. No price tag. No markings inside except a handwritten note on the title page.

To the one who made me lose my breath.

—K

I blinked.

The words weren’t long but they hit me with so much damn warmth.

My pulse jumped.

I closed the book and quickly put it down. Not because it looked dangerous—though, to be fair, it kind of did—but because he had chosen it. Wrapped it. Sent it to my door with a demand disguised as an invitation.

Zo crossed his arms over his chest. “Well. . .I don’t think we’re going to die now.”

“Yeah but. . .why this book?”

Zo shook his head in disbelief.

“He doesn’t strike me as the kind of man who makes impulsive decisions.”

“You don’t hold the power he has from being impulsive.”

“So then why did he give me a book about a man who transforms into a dragon to conquer the world. . .only to falter when he sees a woman?”

Zo grinned. “I hadn’t pegged the Dragon for the sentimental type.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s definitely a smooth move,” Zo picked it up, turned to the first page, and read it out loud, “The world had already begun to burn when he saw her.”

I blinked. “Well. . .that’s a good start.”

“It is.”

I looked down at the other package and opened it. “O-kay. . .let’s see what the other gift is.”

I tore through the gold paper.

A plant sat inside.

Instead of a vase, it rested in a glass tray with tiny smooth pebbles. A sweet scent rose from it.

What's that beautiful smell?

It reminded me of strawberries mixed with cream.

The flower sensually arched forward with two large lavender petals folding over on the sides, inviting the viewer to peer into her opening. In the center were two tiny, pink petals folded inward.

Uh. . .What the hell?

I wasn't a perverted person but I did try to discover the deeper meaning and origin of things that sat before me.

Therefore, I could not ignore the erotic vibe radiating from that lush plant. It teased at my senses—captivating my eyes, luring my nose into memories of fingers sliding against skin.

I stroked one of the soft petals. A silky texture greeted my fingertips. “Is it just me or does this flower look like a vagina?”

Snorting, Zo covered his mouth. “Oh no. It’s not just you. The name of it is clitoria .”

“Stop playing. That’s not funny.”

“It’s true.”

“How do you even know something like that?”

“How do you not?” He chuckled. “It’s my favorite sort of plant, but I've never given one to a woman before.”

“Because you're the cheapest man alive and do your best to get panties without spending money.”

“Sex shouldn't have a price on it. Only shoes and other important things.”

“This from a guy who sleeps with an average of two women a day.”

“Only on the weekends.”

“Man whore.”

“You're one to talk, sweetie.” He winked at me.

“Oh, go back to being scared and pacing,” I lifted it out of the box. “Well, hello clitoria.”

Did the Dragon give every woman a vagina flower?

I grinned. “These are by far two of the most interesting gifts I’ve ever received from a man. A vagina flower and fantasy book. I don’t know if I should be disgusted, impressed, or freaked out by them.”

“Confusion and humor were probably his intention. Put it on my balcony so it can get some sun tomorrow. We don’t want your clit to wither away and die.”

“Very funny.”

“Also, make sure to keep your clit wet and feed it as much as possible.”

“Ha-ha.” I rolled my eyes.

“Oh, this plant is going to provide me with many jokes during your stay. Now, put your blooming clit on my balcony.”