Wayside - 1920s Japan Dramedy

Without another word, Kazuma was off.

He turned towards the direction she had headed in, hawk eyes searching for a head of tied up sandy hair.

Now, she couldn’t have gotten far…

It took him all but one minute to pick her out and set his aim.

His time was money, his business was money, and this girl was going to be the crown jewel of his career.

She hadn’t seemed to notice him eventually sliding up beside her, the two of them rubbing elbows as he squirmed his way through the crowd.

She flinched at the contact, hands rising to her chest and eyes quizzically peeking up from the brim of her hat.

「Excuse me, miss!」 He mustered up all the charm he possibly could while trying his darndest to keep up with the girl. He craned his neck down to meet her face, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m terribly sorry about how that man hollered at you back there, please know that he meant no harm. People around here’re just not used to seeing foreigners! And such a pretty one, at that!” He expected a smile, a blush, a giggle, anything that indicated to him this girl held the slightest interest in pursuing a conversation with him. Nothing.

She was a challenge.

「We’re in Osaka, near the ship docks. There’s other foreigners here.」 her sudden matter-of-fact quip caught him off guard. His shoulders stiffened. Had she just replied to him in Japanese?

She returned her gaze back to the street in front of them momentarily before raising her eyes back up to sneak a glance at the man still striding alongside her.

Why was he still staring at her? Did she have some leftover carrot stuck on her cheek from lunch? Look at the road, or better yet, just leave her alone completely!

The girl’s expectant, suspicious stare eventually coaxed Kazuma out of his confusion. He momentarily smiled to himself, looking down at the ground before meeting her eyes again.

“Ah, well to be more specific, female foreigners are quite a rarity, so I’m afraid you stick out...for better or worse.” He trailed off, allowing himself the liberty of mulling over her appearance. Upon viewing her from the bar counter, he knew she was pretty, but on further inspection, to him, she was absolutely gorgeous.

Despite her messy hair and plain clothes, he could imagine the stares and offhand comments this diamond in the rough received on the daily.

All the more incentive to monetize her.

She was quite small, her head of curly, dark blonde hair reaching just beneath his neck. Vivid blue eyes were framed by long lashes, dark and thick. The spattering of freckles across her nose, while some may have dismissed them as childish and unbecoming for a lady, Kazuma found to be rather endearing, providing her perpetually somber face with an air of innocence.

His eyes roamed down her neck to her clothes: a simple white blouse and a burgundy skirt which kissed her ankles and hugged her waist. No matter how chaste her clothes were, it was clear as day that she had quite a desirable physique.

He silently scoffed under his breath-what was this girl doing? An absolute doll wearing such dated fashion! Did she enjoy looking like some corn-dwelling bible thumper rather than a woman of the times?

Noticing her skeptical gaze once again, his eyes fell to mindlessly inspect his shoes before meeting the road in front of them. He decided it best to stop staring and change the subject, lest the girl go running off completely.

「How did you know I speak Japanese?」

Just as he opened his mouth to sweet talk some more, the girl’s demeanor changed from cold to downright frigid as she was visibly losing her patience.

His mouth froze into a taught smile, racking his brain for what this girl could be referencing–had he spoken to her in Japanese? No, he called out to her in English, he even mentally scripted it!

“I’m sorry, miss, but I’m not sure what you’re referring to!” He cocked his head to the side.

“Sir, you-”

“Ah!” Kazuma snapped his fingers, his face lighting up. “I did say 「excuse me’ didn’t I?” He chuckled while shaking his head. Touma’s babbling about her in Japanese must have thrown him off course.

“My apologies for blindly assuming you understood me, miss. I’m usually more…” He rolled his wrist as if to conjure the most fitting word from the air in front of him. “Attentive.”

He flashed her a wink before tugging at her sleeve, guiding her away from a possible collision with a rather hurried businessman.

Kazuma flashed the man an irritated glare. Year after year, day after day, the art of chivalry worldwide was resembling more of a dying artform rather than a modern code of conduct, and it was absolutely maddening.

“I’m sure.” The girl murmured past her wavering lips.

He smirked as he relished in the crooked smile creeping onto her soft features. It was refreshing, in a sense - one moment she sounded like she was plotting his murder and the next she was suppressing a blush from his advances.

A little moody, but that’s manageable.

He lowered himself to meet her face yet again before he continued. “I must say though, your Japanese is quite good, my dear. How did you learn if you don’t mind me asking?”

He wouldn’t even consider this to be his usual flattery–if her looks weren’t enough to stun him, her near-perfect pronunciation of his mother tongue was more than sufficient.

And more than beneficial for his fiscal prospects.

「It's amazing what you can learn when your livelihood is on the line.」 She huffed, her thin eyebrows raising as she decided to do some interrogating herself. “And I think I should be the one asking you why your English is so good.”

Lucy was never one for idle chatter. Despite scolding herself for entertaining conversation with a strange man on the street, however, she was admittedly finding herself to be enjoying his company.

Would her uncle ream her a new one if she was back any later than afternoon? Perhaps, but she decided that a brief conversation with a seemingly well-to-do stranger, who was able to speak her own language no less, was well-deserved and a fleeting escape from her uncle’s shenanigans and silly schemes that seemed to endlessly flow from his oddball brain.

"So, what are you, a merchant?"

She silently cringed as she heard the country twang that laced her brash questioning.

Why was she suddenly feeling ashamed of how she spoke? Normally, Lucy wouldn't bother to worry herself with such frivolous topics, but for whatever reason—perhaps the way he spoke—being with this man brought about a feeling of insecurity within her.

He spoke in verbage resembling that of showmen, a kind of swanky Mid-Atlantic accent that was now commonplace among upper-class men in cities across America.

His pronunciation was astounding. He was very clearly someone well-to-do, perhaps some sort of high-ranking merchant or salesman. His black wool suit looked as if he was wearing it for the first time today. Even she was able to tell that it was tailored beautifully, and the vest underneath seemed to be made from some kind of fabric Lucy wouldn't feel worthy of touching with her pinky.

In layman's terms, the guy was clearly rolling in it.

He grinned down at her, hand reaching up to toy at the lapel on his suit.

"What am I? I’m glad you asked, miss! I’m not a merchant, but I sure help a lot of them! Loans, allowances, you name it."

He stifled a chuckle as he drank in the quizzical look cast upon her face.

Perfect.

Now that she was visibly interested, it was prime time to lay down his proposal.

"I invest in a lot of businesses around here, but I’m also very interested in putting my money towards individuals."

He eyed her again, a glint of wolfish resolve permeating from his locked gaze.

It was Lucy's turn to let out a tiny laugh of her own, one laced with reservation and something unfamiliar that caused her stomach to churn.

"I...don't follow."

Kazuma let out another chuckle.

"Well, allow me to be your guide, miss."