Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 104141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
TV screens were muted and mounted along the upper walls and showed the news coverage of Tokyo rebuilding after the bombs. Subtitles appeared and disappeared. Red graphics scrolled. Worried anchors cycled through speculation about the bombings.
I walked in. Under my arm, I carried the book from my mother’s belongings, The Rites of Burial and Becoming.
Reo waited for me at the entrance to the miniature Tokyo. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back—perfectly still, perfectly composed, his black suit unwrinkled despite the fact that the man had been partying all last night and stuffing his mouth with cheese.
As I got close, he moved his gaze to the book and then returned it to me.
Hiro walked up next to Reo and yawned, still wearing his fur coat and leather pants. No shoes were on his feet.
I frowned. “Did you even go to sleep last night?”
“We were too busy.”
I stopped in front of him. “Busy doing what?”
“We had to do the race up the claw. Don’t tell Nyomi about that by the way. I like her thinking that we are perfect gentlemen.”
I smirked. “Who won the race up the claw?”
“Reo.”
I snapped my view to him.
He apparently had to cough into his hands.
“And how are your ribs, Roar?”
“Just fine.”
“Stop pushing yourself too far.”
“When does one have the opportunity to climb a massive dragon’s claw?”
I glared.
“However, in the future I will be more careful.”
I could see the race up the claw. The party still going. Music still loud. All my men drunk.
Hiro at the bottom in his fur coat, shouting the rules nobody would follow.
The Fangs already lined up along the base, betting on each other in low voices the way men bet on horses.
Reo somewhere in the middle of it, pretending he wasn't going to climb. Pretending his ribs weren't healed enough. Pretending he wasn't already calculating which side of the claw had the best grip.
And then as soon as the signal came, the Roar moving first, scaling up a thirty-foot dragon claw.
If I had been there. . .I would have beat them all.
Clearing my throat, I turned back to Hiro. “After the race, you went to sleep?”
“No way. I went to sleep after the orgy under the claw.”
I quirked my brows. “Orgy under the claw?”
“Of course.”
“Should I ask who participated in the orgy?”
“Well, it was the Claws’ event so. . .”
I tilted my head. “And the women?”
“Brought to us by our lovely Tiger.”
“You all fucked the waitresses under the claw last night?”
“Of course.”
“You are aware that those were adult daughters and sisters of our Scales throughout the island.”
“Their fathers and brothers will never know. What happens under the claw, stays under the claw.” Hiro did a military salute. “Besides the women received hefty compensation this morning for their hard work.”
“You paid them like they were prostitutes?”
“We gave them several thousand to shop like queens.”
I let out a long sigh.
“Don’t tell our Tiger.” Hiro’s face actually appeared worried. “She’s to have the best impression of her Claws.”
I tensed at his saying her Claws. “What about the Fangs? Did they join the orgy too?”
“I sent them home. They weren’t happy about that, but what could they do? Our Tiger’s friends left with them.”
I looked at Reo. “Did you participate in the orgy under the claw too?”
“No.” Reo brushed down the front of his jacket. “I went upstairs like a responsible adult.”
Hiro rolled his eyes. “Reo went upstairs with two waitresses and all of the remaining Roar Bites. Five fucking trays. He wouldn’t even leave us one tray. And he was about to fight us when we tried to grab it. By the way, the two waitresses never came back downstairs. No doubt they were rubbing cheese all over his cock and licking it off. Or perhaps he was rubbing cheese on them and licking it off.”
Reo pursed his lips.
Hiro gestured at Reo. “Ask him what he did.”
Two waitresses. Five trays. One Roar. The math is concerning.
I considered the possibilities of what Reo would do with two waitresses and absolutely too many trays of cheese, and then decided that it was not a mental image I needed for today.
“Let’s go.” I headed off.
Hiro snickered and followed.
Reo got to my side.
We entered the city.
Tokyo stretched in every direction at shoulder height. Some buildings rose taller. Tiny windows were lit from within. There were rooftop gardens no bigger than a hand. Billboards I could read if I leaned close enough.
Shibuya’s crossing had been frozen mid-step with tiny figures suspended in their tiny lives.
It was all around us—the 109 building, the Hachiko statue near the station.
Then Roppongi, the cluster of towers, the observation deck of Roppongi Hills detailed down to its miniature railing.
Tokyo Tower glowed amber to our left, lit from within like a small private sun.
And the markers were everywhere. Dragon heads with curved horns and gold-tipped teeth sat on rooftops. Fox heads clustered near Ginza and Shinjuku. Lion heads too were here and there near the ports.