*Takahasi Yutaka*
Yutaka trundled up the old familiar path, stopping suddenly when things weren't so familiar. His sharp, beady eyes took in his new surroundings quickly, making especial note of the perilous fall. Grunting, the fat man began the long walk over the bridge and up the path. He'd seen stranger things than a change of scenery here at the inn.
He tried his best to not let it get to him. He had better things to worry about than the inn redecorating, such as his prize whore running away. It was really bad for business, and some of the higher up yakuza bosses were breathing down his enormous neck to find her, and fast. Losing any amount of face with them could prove disastrous.
Putting one meaty hand on his katana, he tried to distract himself. Even though it was the 1950s back where he came from and katanas were illegal, they were also still objects of honor, and he wore his full daisho with pride, and a German Luger for when things actually went wrong. Halfway to the inn, Yutaka stopped and put his suitcase down, taking a moment to catch his breath and wipe his brow. After a long moment he got started again. He needed a break from all the stress, not just from the runaway but one of his latest deals had ended badly, though that situation had been dealt with accordingly.
He kicked his sandals off and rolled across the floor of the entrance to look for the Mistress so he could pay for his room, glaring warily at the skeletal bartender as he passed.
(you can come talk to this guy, Vopa)
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