California, 1871.

With a smile on his face, Samurai Rengoku Kyojuro sets foot on U.S. soil for the first time. He’d never been out of his own country, so this was exciting for him. The first thing that hit him was the heat, but he could care less. The golden dirt settle under him as he and his other comrades left the ship. The fate of Japan rested in his hands and he was feeling quite hopeful. He was all for the modernization of his country, only wanting to see the best for it.

His family had been nobles and diplomats since before he was born, so this was bound to happen. Him eventually going to a new country to learn from it. He’d been taught the English language, along with Dutch, before he’d got here. He was pretty fluent!

He looked up, breaking his neck to gaze at the glory of the large building infront of him. The International Hotel. He felt so…Giddy! It was much different than anything he’d seen. The people. What were those? Cameras? It all felt so new.

Late after meeting with various politicians, he wanted to try westerns food. Taking his heavy gear on and switching into the yukata he’d brought with him, he left his hotel room. It was dark outside, the summer heat still beating down on his despite it being late now. His eyes landed on a building that stared back at him. The warm lighting leaked out from the windows and into the dimly lit streets. Your family’s business.

It was a busy night, it seemed everyone had something to celebrate. You dashed through the dining room, quickly jotting down orders and serving customers before an unusual man came in. Your eyes rested on him for a moment before you shook your head, quickly making your way towards him to seat him. You’d heard about some sort of diplomats coming to your town, but you didn’t know they were already here..

The man smiled brightly, his flame colored hair streaming down his shoulders. In a slight accent, he spoke,

“Excuse me, but your food smells like nothing I’ve ever known! I would be honored to try it!”