Rejoice! Christmas has arrived! Which means it’s time for another lengthy one-shot filled with OC’s very few of you care about.
Hey, get back here! I do have one OC at least one of you cares about, and I am going to try and format the story in a way that won’t be too overwhelming. I will likely fail in this attempt, but at least I tried.
So, let’s get this party started before I run out of whiskey and cookies. Or did Ilya eat all the cookies again?
Oh, right. Timeline. This story follows the Manila Tales, and is again written in present tense, because that works for me for this character.
Now, begin! Push the button, Ilya. Not that button!
Ugh, why do I even have that button? I’ll clean this up, you push the button.
Christmas Meetings –A Soon-hee Special
Well, it finally happened. I’m wearing a suit.
Allow me to backtrack a bit. Kenji and Miya’s extended little family of school friends is going to be spread out this Christmas across multiple continents, so beforehand as many of them who can are meeting at a restaurant owned by another former schoolmate a few days before Christmas.
Since it is a somewhat special occasion, everyone going will be dressing up a bit, and so for Christmas Miya bought me a suit. A tailored fitted suit, no less. It’s black and fits very well and is really comfortable, and to go along with it she also bought me black gloves and a tie, and several grey buttoned shirts to go with them.
So yeah, I’ve gone full bifauxnen –a short southpaw bifauxnen that can flip people twice her weight. At least the suit looks good on me, according to Miya. I have a feeling she just had fun picking out my outfit before getting me the suit, but she’s practically my mother now, so I won’t begrudge her the chance to dress me up once in a while.
I still prefer blue jeans, but those aren’t very formal or warm.
Kenji’s suit, meanwhile is brown, to match Miya’s skirted suit. Hisato, the two’s four year old son, is bundled up in a black parka, riding on Kenji’s back while we walk.
“Are we there yet?” Hisato asks.
Kenji grins and replies, “Almost.”
Hisato sighs and snuggles in his father’s back, “Will Aunty Miki be there?”
“Yep,” Miya chirps. Looking to me, she smiles and adds, “You’ll like her –she’s kinda like Akira if she were from Ryukyu and had an augment and was a reformed alcoholic and I’m gonna stop now.”
Kenji smirks while Miya fiddles with her skirt for the sake of having something to do. Miya can ramble sometimes like Kenji, but she’s better at applying the brakes herself.
Like Akira… hmm….
I had met the Hashimoto’s and Williams’ at the end of summer break during an extended weekend in Hokkaido after the trip to Manila. Akira was an easygoing woman and we got along alright, so if Miya says I’ll get along with the restaurant owner, I’ll believe her.
Although something she says piques my interest, which is why I ask her, “Augment?”
Kenji nods, “Otori tech –top of the line but fiddly. Hisao can tell you more about it if you’re curious.”
I nod. I was planning on becoming a physical therapist, and prosthetic adjustment was a subset of that field I was considering. Asking Uncle Hisao would be marginally less rude than asking the woman herself, anyway.
Anything that keeps me sounding more polite is probably a good thing.
“Are we there yet?” Hisato asks again.
“We get there when we get there,” I state. Smiling at the little Setou, I add, “part of the fun is getting there, right?”
“Not all those who wander are lost,” Miya recites.
“The old that is strong does not wither,” Kenji continues.
“Deep roots are not reached by the frost,” I add.
Hisato blinks at each of us for a moment, and rather than say anything just tries to snuggle closer to his father’s back.
I might just be getting the hang of this older sister thing.
I can’t deny that Kenji is as good as a father to me, and had been for a while. It just took me some time to figure it out.
Miya, meanwhile, practically adopted me the moment I first stepped into their home. Miya is kind of awesome that way.
A few moments later Kenji stops in front of an ornate wooden door with an elegantly carved sign above it, proclaiming the location’s name in kanji, Portuguese, and English.
I step next to Kenji and look up at him, “I take it we’re here?”
Kenji grins and nods, the lights surrounding us glinting off his glasses in a Christmas prism of red and greens. Hisato gives a muffled cheer, and Miya steps past us and opens the door. Kenji glances at me and raises an eyebrow. I nod once, and we step inside.
The well lit restaurant has a large bar area to our right separated by walls and doors, while tables and booths are scattered around the rest of the building. There are several closed doors along the back wall. The crowd looks to be several years younger than Kenji and Miya, and there’s Brazilian art sprinkled about it.
Kenji and Miya stop in front of the hostess, a relatively young-looking woman with long brown hair in a ponytail like Miya’s, and black shirt and pants.
The hostess smiles at us, and, after a brief bow, gestures to one of the back doors and says, “Hey guys –Boss is waiting for you in the back. Can I take your drink orders?”
“Three hot cocoas and one coffee, please,” Kenji states.
The hostess nods and walks over to a wandering waitress to relay our order. Kenji and Miya, meanwhile, head for one of the back doors, me following close behind. While we walk a spare a glance around the restaurant, focusing on my padded footsteps to avoid the clinking of silverware –the place seems to have a large foreign clientele, though not exclusively. None of the patrons give us a second glance, which is nice.
Miya’s the first one after the hostess to reach what is presumably the door to the private room where we’re all meeting. Since Kenji’s arms are occupied with Hisato, she waits until we’ve caught up to open the door, while the hostess bows and goes back to her post. Kenji and Hisato walk in first, and, after an encouraging smile from Miya, I follow after them.
The private room is set up for a large dinner, with several cloth covered tables along the right wall from the door. A quick scan of the room reveals only three occupants; Kenji, who’s setting Hisato down so he can run up to the other person, and a tall woman with long black hair and skin a few shades lighter than my own.
I hear Miya step beside me as the door closes behind us. I watch her approach in the corner of my vision, while my focus is on the woman, who has crouched down to grab Hisato in a hug.
“That her?” I ask.
Nothing gets by you, does it?
Miya smiles and nods, “Miki Akiyama, 2008 graduating class of Yamaku Academy –she was in the same class as Hisao, Hanako, and the Foundation President and VP.”
Hisato in her right arm sans jacket, the previously mentioned Miki walks over to the two of us. She’s dressed in a slightly fancier version of what the hostess was wearing, except she also has on a suit jacket. Kenji, meanwhile, is hanging up his son’s parka on one of the hooks along the far wall.
“Hey Miya,” the woman greets Miya first, who smiles and extends her left hand for shaking.
Miya grins and takes the proffered hand. It looks a bit thicker than her right, and seems a bit stiff, too.
Guess that’s the augment. Definitely not Sarif tech.
Although at least hers tries to look like a real hand.
After the two lower their hands, Akiyama turns to me and grins, “Hey, you’re Soon-hee, right? Nice to meetcha –Miki Akiyama at your service.”
Miki sticks out her left hand for me, and I carefully accept it. The augment doesn’t quite feel right, but it has warmth and reacts more or less like a real hand would.
Grinning, Miki remarks, “Heard you were gonna be a physical therapist and have a bit of a thing for augments.”
I shrug and lower my hand, “It’s an option.”
Miki chuckles and flexes her left hand; in this regard it behaves exactly like a flesh and blood hand.
“Wanna see a trick?” she asks.
“Don’t do the pencil trick!” Kenji calls, “Not unless you want a lecture from Hisao when he gets here.”
Miki pouts, sighs “spoilsport,” and lets Hisato down, who scrabbles over to Miya, who’s still standing more or less next to me.
Miya puts one hand on Hisato’s shoulder as she asks Miki, “Where’s the kids and Haruki?”
“Out and about,” Miki replies, “although I don’t mind the boys being away from the twins –those four are a pain in the a…. rear end.”
Wait, the twins… the Satous… there’s gonna be a lot of kids here.
Considering Japan’s population crisis, dealing with the extended family that is Uncle Hisao and Kenji’s can be a bit overwhelming at times. I did okay in Hokkaido, but we were more spread out then, usually.
This is gonna be interesting.
Miya sighs, and, as if echoing my thoughts, remarks, “Yeah, things are gonna be wild anyway, but that’s how we roll, right?”
“That’s right!” Kenji declares from the coat hangers.
I hear the door open behind me and whirl around to see the hostess’ head, “The Nakais are here, and your drinks’ll be out in a minute. Sorry for the wait.”
“No worries,” Miya states.
Akiyama sighs, her expression oddly dour for such a seemingly cheerful woman, “And so it begins.”
I turn back to the adults to see Kenji walk over and put a hand on Akiyama’s shoulder, “You love it and you know it.”
Akiyama smirks and nods, “…It’s gonna be one of those days, that’s for sure.”
Kenji grins, “Like Miya said –that’s how we roll.”
Miya sticks out a V sign into the air and shouts, “Go Team Venture!”
Kenji and Akiyama blink at Miya. Miya lowers her hand and coughs, while Hisato looks up at his mother, blinking.
I didn’t get it either.
Moving on, I turn toward the door in preparation for the new arrivals. Crouching down, I wait for the Amazing Speeding Refia to make her appearance.
Last edited by Hoitash
on Tue Dec 22, 2015 11:29 am, edited 1 time in total.