Steinbeck pulls his coat tighter around himself to fight the winter chill. His breath curls in the air as he exhales, glancing upwards; the clouds look heavy, as if it could snow at any moment. He's never seen Yokohama so bright— Christmas lights are strung up on every street, reflecting off windows and filling the city with color. Being from an area in rural America, he's never seen a Christmas market before.

"So," he glances to where you're bundled up at his side, "where should we start?"