"Of course," he says softly, and with a smile, and he holds out his hand for hers.
It's a quieter part of town, but there always seem to be taxis to be had, so Kurama flags one down and helps her into it, closing the door behind her before circling around to the other side and climbing in himself. If the driver finds it curious - this pairing of a young twenty-something Japanese man with an older, foreign woman - well, Kurama hardly thinks it is likely not the strangest thing he's ever seen in the course of his job, and when they reach their destination, Kurama pays him enough extra that he thinks the driver will just...forget all about it.
He takes her to a hotel - not quite American and not quite Japanese, but clean and quiet and with its own certain charm. The floors are wooden, and there's a proper bed (at least, insofar as it's not simply a mattress on the floor, which he thinks she will appreciate), but there's also a small, raised portion of tatami matting, with a low table set in the center. The staff is kind and attentive, and most of them speak English (well enough, anyway), and it's the work of not very long at all for the girl who led them to the room to bow her way back out and shut the door behind her, leaving them alone again.
He turns to her, a questioning look on his face, but he thinks he doesn't need to say much aloud, because - well, because he hardly ever did.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2013-12-13 07:52 am (UTC)It's a quieter part of town, but there always seem to be taxis to be had, so Kurama flags one down and helps her into it, closing the door behind her before circling around to the other side and climbing in himself. If the driver finds it curious - this pairing of a young twenty-something Japanese man with an older, foreign woman - well, Kurama hardly thinks it is likely not the strangest thing he's ever seen in the course of his job, and when they reach their destination, Kurama pays him enough extra that he thinks the driver will just...forget all about it.
He takes her to a hotel - not quite American and not quite Japanese, but clean and quiet and with its own certain charm. The floors are wooden, and there's a proper bed (at least, insofar as it's not simply a mattress on the floor, which he thinks she will appreciate), but there's also a small, raised portion of tatami matting, with a low table set in the center. The staff is kind and attentive, and most of them speak English (well enough, anyway), and it's the work of not very long at all for the girl who led them to the room to bow her way back out and shut the door behind her, leaving them alone again.
He turns to her, a questioning look on his face, but he thinks he doesn't need to say much aloud, because - well, because he hardly ever did.