“Exactly, Tora.”
We reached the beach level, and I gestured toward the tree line where palms rustled in the breeze. "Those are sago palms mixed with Japanese black pines.”
I watched her take in the twisted pines, the way wonder softened her face. I'd spent three years perfecting this island, but I'd never once imagined sharing it. The trees I'd imported felt different with her here—less like possessions, more like offerings.
I shivered and cleared my throat. “See how the branches twist.”
“That’s lovely. Now. . .did you bring those trees here too or did they come with the island?”
"I brought them.”
She laughed and the musical sound vibrated through the space between us. And all I wanted to do was press my mouth there, just to feel the sound against my lips.
I grinned. “Tora, stop laughing at me.”
“Kenji, you are so extra.”
“I wanted this island to be a tropical paradise but with Japanese aesthetics." Between the trees, hibiscus bloomed in deep reds and pale pinks while bougainvillea climbed in magenta. The air here was thick with the perfume of flowers and warm earth.
“Still. . .” A soothing sigh left her lips. “You built a paradise."
"I did."
In the distance, partially hidden by the swaying tree line, the pavilion gleamed. Black glass and stone shimmering in the sunlight. They were clean lines against the blue sky.
I led her toward it.
“Now this is a masterpiece.” She widened her eyes. "So. . .what did my spoiled Dragon do to create this?”
“I overworked my architect.”
She chuckled. “Oh God. How?”
"It took him three years to build the final structure you see here."
Three years of tearing down what didn't match the image in my head.
Three years of my architect flying back and forth, rebuilding, adjusting, perfecting.
I let out a long breath. "I had him out here constantly rebuilding until I had exactly what I wanted."
Until I could look at something and not see chaos.
Not see death.
Not see the things I couldn't fix.
I nodded. "Tradition and luxury in one space. See the roofline?"
"Yeah. It looks like a temple, but it’s also very modern too."
"Exactly."
The palm shadows shifted across us as we walked.
Somewhere, a bird called—a distinctive three-note song that echoed through the trees.
Ho-ho-kekyo.
