Rakuzan District

{♜} -- Fingers glided languidly over the flat keyboard, eyes intent on the bright, glaring screen as minute characters gradually started filling up the empty, white space. One may have believed that being part of the Yakuza was a hoodlum's job, but Nijimura begged to differ. As the next head in line for the Yakuzas, the young heir knew better, knew clearer than anyone the burdens and responsibilities that came with the title.

Digits paused in their ministrations when the cellular device on solid mahogany desk started to vibrate, announcing that his attention was now needed somewhere. Lifting an index and thumb, Nijimura rubbed at his temples in hope to elude the threatening migrane as he picked up the call without even much as a glance at the screen.

"Yes Father, I'll pick her up at the Airport."

What will it be like, in this bland world?

{❦} The very thought, if heard of context, sounded more like something that an alien would say. But, in a way, that was exactly what this girl was. After all, never before had she left the confines of her father's grasp until it was no longer there; what sort of life would she live now that she was to live in another country? A part of Wenhe believed that, as she walked down the terminal from where she exited the plane's jetbridge, if she looked back now she would still see Taiwan behind her, would still see her home and the people who taught her everything. But, of course, looking back her eyes would only meet the sea of people that also were in the plane with her.

So as the heels of her best shoes clicked against the tile floors and her free hand fixed the skirt of her best dress before going up to tuck away the stray hairs back into the neat bun on her head, the girl of sixteen, almost seventeen, couldn't help but feel a lump in her throat similar to that of when her father hadn't come home. Is this fear? Anxiety? Honestly, amongst the insipidness of it all, that was the most logical answer. But that couldn't be the answer, anymore: she was the owner of her father's weapon company. Fear, worry, anything related to such emotions were no longer an option. And approaching the exit of the terminal where the ravenette was sure she would meet someone from the family that had offered to let her come to Japan in the first place, one very thought crossed her mind once more.

What will it be like, in this monochromatic world?

{♜} -- A quick glance shot towards the clock told him that he was on schedule, the flight he was awaiting for landing only fifteen minutes ago. It was important, his father reminded him on his journey. Important that he be the one receiving their 'guest' from abroad.

The word itself left a bitter taste in his mouth. It was merely a wordplay and since a long time ago, Nijimura had known of the intentions he had for him and their guest. It wasn't that he completely disagreed with his old man, or that he was rebellious. He had long grown out of that adolescent age, but as a Yakuza, Nijimura had seen too much losses and death to allow such a responsibility to be thrown onto him.

A responsibility he was raised to be ready for.

Sighing softly to himself, gray optics remained unmoving from the arrivals exit as they searched for a face that matched the picture in the pocket. It didn't take him long though, when he spotted a petite asian female with a neatly tied bun exiting the automatic sliding glass doors.

"Is this Wenhe Xiao-Dan?" He spoke as he approached the girl, eyes appraising the other to make sure he had gotten the right person. "I'm Nijimura Shūzō. Welcome to Japan."

{❦} With nothing but the reminder from one of her employees that the person picking her up would "find her on the dot", Wenhe couldn't help but wonder just how well the family knew her. Her father, obviously quite well, but she herself? One could only wonder if perhaps this wasn't the first time that they'd heard of Wenhe Mingyu's daughter.

But again, she had to chastise herself for thinking such worries. Honestly, they were a good business partner and kind enough to let her stay with them while she came to settle here in this country. The last thing she should be thinking of is something that adds a hint of wariness to their name. And looking forward large erinite orbs settled to someone who'd introduced himself to her. The girl blinked for a quick moment of silence before nodding in response, her hands folding neatly onto her lap as she bowed respectfully in greeting.

"I'm Wenhe Xiao-Dan," she said, the girl from Taiwan hoping that the years of Japanese practice had come to pay off. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Staring down at the floor of the airport she tucked another stray hair behind her ear, standing back up straight and fixing her glasses before looking up to the man with the steel-colored eyes. "Please take good care of me, Nijimura-san."

{♜} -- Her greetings in a strangely accented Japanese was returned with a curt nod from the young Yakuza, an acknowledgement of her regards. Long arms extended themselves to the baggage behind her, automatically taking them into his hand as he led her towards the black automobile that awaited them outside.

The walk was silent, save for the occasional clack of heeled shoes and shuffles of feet. Monotonous gray optics kept to the front with a purpose, never once looking back at his guest.

"You'll be staying at the Nijimura residences," he finally broke the silence, never once breaking his stride. "Unless you prefer otherwise and I will do my best to arrange for suitable lodging for you."

{❦} While she'd been raised with private tutors and lived a comfortable life, the last thing she'd been expecting was for him to take her bags. The calm on her face broke for a moment with concern and her lips parted to almost let out a "Wait" so that she could at least hold one of her begs to lessen the burden. But, with the reminder of her arts teacher from years before, it was best to be grateful for the hospitality that one would offer; no matter how short of time they'd known one another.

Folding her hands back in front of her lap the girl only followed along behind him, her hands brushing against the silk of her dress and hearing the crisp chiffon that filled the skirt underneath shuffle a little. It added a strange irregularity to the monotony of their footsteps, and in a way it was relaxing to hear something not expected, even if it were herself that made such a barely audible sound.

But once the barely familiar voice rang in her ears again Wenhe's head snapped back up so she could look up at the back of his head, her head shaking from side to side at the offer of her preferring to stay elsewhere; even if Nijimura couldn't see. "Ah, no, it's alright... I am... Very grateful, for your family letting me stay. Truly, I owe you all my life, for this."

And it never struck her, just how accurate that last statement was.