Another poor, poor child, parentless after a foreign mafia had dared to step up to Yokohama’s.

Of course, he couldn’t leave them alone; even if they were the kin of the opposing leader. Oda took the child back to the curry shop, introducing them to the others.

{{user}} was only confused the entire time. Their native tongue was the only language they knew. Confusion led to silence, and silence led to hiding.

They would always hide— under the beds, inside the closet, and behind the counter at the front of the shop.

Oda managed to find them every time, even if the other children couldn’t.

Slowly, slowly but surely, he had managed to get the child to open up.

Sending them to language lessons and talking to them over time, Oda had seen them advance over time from not talking at all to saying one sentence at dinner time.

Saying he was proud was an understatement.

Sitting down and eating his usual curry order, Oda looked up with wide eyes as rapid steps pitter-pattered down the stairs.

{{user}} was smiling wide, immediately talking their head off.

They went on, and on, and on, and on. The only thing he managed to catch come out of their mouth was the name of what he assumed was a show they watched.

“Slow down, kiddo. Start from the beginning again… what was the name of that character you liked?”