Hiromi's POV.
I wasn't one for flying, but Shoyo was right; the first class flight to Tokyo was relaxing. The attendants were quite friendly, offering me the occasional drink, which I partook of with great delight. It was a shame I was on a late night flight, I wished I could see the view out the window.
I couldn't fall asleep though, as my mind was racing back and forth wondering how father would react to the news of my sudden departure. For all I knew, he could have found out already. The thought of him dragging me all the way back to Seoul, sent chills down my spine. I somehow managed to fall asleep, and was awoken by a female attendant's voice;
"Sir, the plane is about to touchdown. Please fasten your seatbelt!" She said, as she smiled at me.
I smiled back, and proceeded to fasten my seatbelt. As I did, I noticed the time on my watch; only two hours had passed since I departed Seoul for Tokyo. To me though, it felt like the flight had lasted for much longer than that. I was in awe as I saw the runway at Haneda light up, as the plane descended, it was striking to look at.
"Beautiful isn't it?" I heard a woman's voice ask.
She was a passenger sitting in the row right beside mine. I had noticed her a few times during our flight, but didn't really think much of her. I figured she was just another one of the thousands of thrill seeking tourists that visit Japan annually. She looked Caucasian, with her lightly blonde hair and greenish-blue eyes. But I could tell from her distinctive accent that she was American.
"It is." I said simply, as I asked; "First visit?"
"Wow! Your English is really good!" She exclaimed, as she replied; "Third visit actually." Saying the latter in Japanese.
I found that surprising and intriguing. I could tell from the phrase she used, that she was well versed in the Japanese language, and her pronunciation was nearly impeccable. And suddenly my interest in her grew.
"Your Japanese even better." I replied with slightly accentuated Japanese.
It seemed she picked that up, and asked;
"Are you not Japanese?" And then said, with a slight chuckle; "Taking a closer look, you don't really look Japanese."
"I'm Korean nationally, but I'm half Japanese." I replied, also letting out a slight chuckle.
"OMG! You're biracial?! And from two of my favorite countries at that!" She exclaimed, saying; "No wonder you have exotic looks!"
I have to admit, she was a bit overwhelming; going as far as calling me exotic, I don't recall ever laughing as hard as I did, then. She then proceeded in telling why she loved Japanese and Korean cultures. Which was apparently because of her love for Asian pop culture in general. And something unexpected too, Asian Cuisine.
Our conversation however, came to an abrupt end, as the plane finally touched down on Japanese soil. I wished I had talked to her sooner; she was really fun to talk to.
"Looks like our conversation ends here. It was nice meeting you." She said, as she continued; "I'm Chloé … Chloé Elliot."
"I'm Hiromi Lee. It was nice meeting you too, Chloé." I replied with a smile.
"Wow! Hiromi? That name suits you perfectly. You're beautiful." She replied, as she laughed innocently; in an almost child-like manner.
I felt bashful, and looked away; it was the first time I'd ever met someone that open. How was she able to say that to me so nonchalantly, and not feel uncomfortable in the least? Was it the differences in culture between us?
As I looked back to reply, she was gone. I assumed, she was lost among the horde of passengers frantically making their way out of the plane. I felt rather disappointed that we parted that way. But I had no time to dwell over that. I had to get going.
I quickly made my way through customs and passport checks, and was quite impressed at how effective my Japanese was. As I walked out of the airport, I looked around for a while; and finally saw someone holding up a sign with my name written on it, in Japanese.
It was guy in his early twenties at the very least, probably not that much older than I was. He was leaning against an old pickup truck, the words by its side were almost entirely faded, but I somehow managed to read what they said "Sato Ramen." He had curly hair, a muscular build, and a somewhat darker skin tone.
As soon as he noticed me intently staring at him, he stood up straight, and smiled. As he waved, and shouted out loudly in English.
"Hey! Hiromi right? I'm your Cousin, Alex!" He shouted out, signaling me to go over.
I was caught off guard by this sudden occurrence. He looked like a foreign model. With his dark skin tone, perfect smile and an impeccably chiseled jawline. Yet he somehow called himself my cousin?
As I got closer him, he walked up to me, and gave me a hug, saying;
"We finally meet Hiro! Dad's gonna be so happy to see you!"
"You said you're my cousin right? I'm Hiromi Lee." I replied, with an awkward smile.
"I knew that already…Anyway, you got that right, I'm your cousin; the name's Alex…Alex Sato." He replied with another smile.
He had an unmistakable American accent, and seemed like he had a boisterous laid-back kind of attitude.
"Great to meet you Alex!" I replied, also smiling. He was a bit overwhelming, but also definitely showed hints of a fun side. I figured him an i would get along nicely.
"Likewise. Hop in, dad's not gonna be happy if we're late. He's a bit of a drag like that." Alex said, with a grin.
Alex and my uncle, lived in Yokohama, in the Greater Tokyo Area. It was a half hour drive from Haneda to Minato Mirai. During which, Alex and I mostly got to know each other better. It turns out he was actually a third year Med Student.
Apparently, his parents had separated when he was in middle school, and they'd been apart ever since. Alex's mother was African-American. That explained all his model like features. He visited her every time he was on a break from Med School, and spent the rest of his time in Japan with his father. I listened in awe as he told me the story of his life.
Finally, we arrived at a more secluded neighborhood. It seemed like one of those prestigious, high-end neighborhoods. And as Alex pulled up at his house, I noticed the grand looking, Japanese themed restaurant right next to it. It had the same sign, as the pickup truck. "Sato Ramen." I couldn't help but admire it.
"You like it huh?" Alex asked, with a grin.
"Like it? I love it!" I exclaimed.
Just then, two women walked out of the restaurant, and went past us. It seemed as though one of them was drunk, as she could barely stand on her own two feet.
Suddenly, Alex and I heard a high pitched voice ask loudly.
"You there! What agency do you work for?" She asked, as she exclaimed; "We'll pay you twice as much!"
"Me?" Alex asked.
"No, not you Alex …Your father would kill us if he found out we took you from Med School." She replied casually. Seemed to me, like she was teasing.
"I mean him…" She said, pointing her finger at me. With a slight grin on her face.