I do not doubt I am to meet you again

[backstreetbard]

[ There is an argument to be made that uprooting your entire life and moving to another continent for a 'change of scenery' is overdoing it, but the fact that Dorothea is sitting on a train in Tokyo with a few bags of groceries is proof that she didn't seem to agree. It's been a huge adjustment, to put things mildly--adjusting to a new culture while you still haven't mastered the language is a tall order, but she's always been a fast learner.

One thing in particular that she's learned since her arrival is that she apparently attracts just as many creepy guys here as she did back home. Today's unwanted flirtation comes from a guy in a studded leather jacket who flops down in the empty spot next to her and immediately leans into her personal space, draping his arm behind her along the back of the seat.

Hey, ojou-chan, you're pretty cute. Are your eyes naturally that color?

Dorothea gives him an exasperated look and immediately says: ]

I'm not interested.

[ The man leans back in apparent surprise, probably not used to women shooting him down so immediately, but Dorothea's expression is mild as she shakes her head. She's done this a hundred times and it kind of shows.

Don't be so cold, ojou-chan. You're obviously not from here, so you need someone to take you around, right? I promise I'll show you a good time. Just give me a chance.

Dorothea holds up her index finger and types something into her phone, then turns it so he can get a good look at the screen. A translation app reiterates her statement from the moment before in large, clear print: I am not interested. ]

I'm not going to go out with you. Please leave me alone.

[ Their interaction is beginning to draw attention, people openly staring as she continues to rebuff him. She knows this is causing a scene, but she also doesn't care--he's the one who started it, not her, so why should she be embarrassed?

Hey, I'm just trying to be friendly! You don't have to be such a bitch about it! ]

Comments

[choukin]

[ Part of it is certainly that he's a punctual man by nature. Nanami values his time, values the concept of time more than she will likely ever be able to understand. But this isn't work. This is his time, and he decided that he wanted to spend it on her. If that means sitting in a cozy little cafe waiting for her for more than he necessarily needs to, well, he can live with that.

The coffee, at least, is quite nice.

He waits for her to be comfortably seated before returning to his own chair. She might notice the coffee cup sitting in front of him, half-drank. Truth be told, it helps that this is already his kind of place. He hasn't been here, yet, but he is a bit of a foodie, as some might put it. So she's far from putting him out. Wouldn't be, even if he wasn't so happy to see her just by itself. ]

I am a bit fond of baked goods. More so than most in Japan, I think. [ He wonders, idly, how she's settling into the culture. He knows, from having studied up on her past perhaps a little more than he should, that she's been here for some time - as proven by the quality of her Japanese, no less. But a culture can be hard to adjust to, more than a language. ] I enjoy a nice start. Strawberry, raspberry. Or a croissant.

[ His head tilts a little, studying her. Perfectly focused on her. ] Is it a challenge? Being here, so far from home, I mean.

[backstreetbard]

Ooh, yes, the almond croissants are my favorite kind. Sweet but not too sweet, you know?

[ At his question, she meets his eyes and taps her chin as she considers how best to answer him. It isn't entirely straightforward. ]

It's been... an adjustment. I could barely speak the language when I first arrived, and the people here either love foreigners or they hate them. Sometimes people ask to take photos with me, not because I'm an opera prima donna, but because I'm a tall gaijin with naturally green eyes. I've seen convenience stores and restaurants with signs posted saying they won't serve anyone who can't speak Japanese, but then they still won't even if you can just because you aren't a native.

The hardest part has been learning to understand what people mean when they speak. Not the language, but the nuances and the etiquette. I'm always second guessing myself, wondering if I said something too directly to someone, or didn't respond in an appropriate way to something. Then I think, well, I already stand out, so I might as well just be myself.

I do miss my friends, of course, and my mother--[ By which she means her adoptive mother, Manuela. ]--but we still talk all the time. I don't necessarily miss Paris itself. You might be aware by now, but I was homeless for a few years as a child, so I don't really see a lot of the romance and beauty that other people do.

[ She shrugs and smiles, folding her hands in her lap. ]

Did you google me? Not that it isn't obvious I'm not from here, but people tend to google me after our first meeting.

[choukin]

[ Ah, they have so much in common, at least in food. He's never been the type for a cloying sweetness. Something mild, cut through, suits him much better.

For the moment he settles back, listening to her patiently, carefully, taking her in. Her Japanese really is impressive, for one thing, lightly accented but charmingly so. And he can understand. He was born here, raised here, but tall and blonde as he is, his Danish heritage shows through, enough to get him curious looks at times. It must be worse, to be her.

It would be hard to say his expression changes much, even when she mentions her homeless past. He is usually rather impassive, quiet, restrained by his nature. But there is a slight shift. A disapproving tension to the lines around his mouth. ]

I may have looked into you a little bit. Out of curiosity. [ He feels suddenly uncomfortable, like he trespassed. Like it wasn't his room to look. ] It isn't often one has a date with a celebrity. I apologize if I overstepped. I just find you... fascinating.

[ Among other things. ]