Wayside - 1920s Japan Dramedy

Before Lucy could object let alone comprehend any shrouded meaning behind his puzzling words, she felt a firm grip on her wrist as she was led away from the liveliness on the street and into a calm alleyway.

Suddenly alarm bells were ringing in her head, her only comfort being the animated crowds a few meters away. She opened her mouth to speak, yet again cut off by the man before her.

"I stopped you because I believe I can help you with..." Resting an arm above her, his stare drifted up and down her lithe form tragically draped in the stale white blouse and passe ankle skirt, his thumb and index finger reaching to brush at his moustache. "With your monetary distress."

Lucy blinked. She blinked again, shaking her head.

Huh.

"Excuse me?" Her head jutted forward on instinct, eyes turning into slits as she pondered slapping the man's shit-eating, lopsided grin off his face.

Were all rich folk across the world somehow innately born with this amount of audacity?

Surely, with her clothes she wasn’t going to be in the pictures any time soon but-

「I wanted to discuss a business opportunity, more specifically!」 Too absorbed in the proposal he was delivering to the girl, he hadn't noticed the look of disdain that had returned to her face.

She was still staring at him dumbfounded, mouth agape.

「I’m-」 She was about to croak out some sort of defense at his little jab, but she was again cut off by his increasingly irritating, self-assured speech.

「You're married?」 He simpered down at her, bobbing his head to the side as he leaned his weight on his arm. "To what, an English instructor? Missionary?" He laughed again while shaking his head.

Lucy wanted nothing more than to tell him that no, she wasn't married, and even if she was, whether it be to an English teacher or a missionary or the King of England for all she cared, why was it any of his business?

Christ almighty, the man still hadn't even bothered to give his name!

Clicking his tongue, he continued. "You’ve seen all the businessmen, all the traders, any men weary for companionship coming into cafes and restaurants to philander with the nice-looking girls inside, I’m sure."

He briefly shifted his head, eyeing both directions before carrying on in a hushed tone.

"Speaking English, speaking Japanese, you’d be a hot commodity, girlie, making good money, better money than your own husband, I guarantee! Hell, you could probably divorce him if you wanted!" He threw his head back in a hearty laugh while Lucy was trying her best to tamper down all the hostile wisecracks begging to slip past her lips.

"You'd be a nice, familiar face for foreign customers and an exotic one for the locals." He carried on as he reached in his pocket before fishing out what appeared to be a business card. "I have a lot of connections to many of those businesses around here, miss, you’re a shoo-in for at least one of them. Of course, we’d have to get you some current clothes, but one step at a time as they say! What matters most is that face of yours!”

Lucy was seething.

Had he invaded her personal space, snubbed her overall appearance, and haughtily (albeit correctly) assumed her class rank?

Yep, sure, fine and dandy. She'd even take half of the blame for this situation. He managed to catch her off guard initially with an alluring flair that Lucy admittedly fell for hook line and sinker. That’s why she was in this damn alleyway to begin with.

But to conclude that she'd be hard-pressed enough to engage in that kind of work for him? And then having the gall to shroud his "business opportunity" under the guise of some twisted charity?

“A joke.”

"The hell it is, I'm completely serious!"

Her eyes widened as she gnawed at the inside of her cheek.

Did I say that out loud? Of course.

Eyebrows raised and his head strained down, he was twisting the card in between his middle and index fingers waiting for her to request one.

「Please.」 The muscles in his cheek twitched as he strove to maintain his composure.

God damn, was he pleading? Usually, people were the ones begging him for business, not the other way around.

"Think of it as an investment for our mutual benefit."

「I'm not interested.」 She disregarded his expectant stare, her hat nearly flying off her head as she hastily turned away from him. Just as she was about to make a break for the road she was originally led away from, something sturdy bumping into her waist prevented her body from moving any further.

The long arm that had originally been placed rather uncomfortably high above her head was now acting as a barricade between her and any means of escape.

He flicked the card back into his pocket, huffing out a puff of air while tapping his leathered shoe on the pavement.

"You Americans know better than anyone that time is money, my dear." The man's voice was strained with a slight irritation woven into his usually merry tone, his patience ticking away with each passing minute.

I'm not interested.

Hearing those three words fly out of the frail's mouth stoked a flame within him to push her harder.

Indeed, she was a challenge.

And really, just who was she to turn him down? This girl should be forever grateful that a man of his repute was even giving her a second of his day let alone the opportunity to rub elbows with him professionally.

"Oh, I'm so sorry for taking up your time." She spat back at him, somehow finding enough courage within herself to shove his arm away from her shaking form.

Feeling the hurried touch of her delicate fingers against his jacket sleeve was enough for him to pull his arm away. No matter how much he wanted her to say yes, no matter how poor a decision this girl was making in refusing his offer, he was never a man to force a lady outside her limits.

"And for the record, sir, I would much prefer a life of modesty with my propriety intact rather than exploiting myself for a man who belittles me." She savored his faltering grin with newly found satisfaction simmering beneath her skin. After one conversation, she could tell that few have managed to tell him no, to ruffle his feathers, and she was more than happy to be one of the first.

Determined to have the last word, a trait that merited many a firm hand against her face during her adolescence, she abruptly spun on her boot heel out towards the street, paying no heed to the wispy hairs falling from her twist.

"Good day."

And she was gone, once again fading into the animated crowd he had discovered her in originally.

"An inspiration to women everywhere." Kazuma sarcastically scoffed with a roll of his eyes. Tapping his shoe, he found himself fishing for his box of cigarettes in his pant pocket.

Taking a drag and tampering down any misgivings of rejection, he began to make his way back towards the izakaya housing his bickering comrades.