Souma and his Fist were in hiding. 

No mention of Takahiro Raigo, or Ai, or even Souma's Voice, Goemon, but Galina knew better than to humiliate Hakesura Soshitsu entirely and drag anymore out of him. And so she did not gloat, and there was no smugness in her smile or voice for her titular victory as she quickly and courteously arranged for the monies to be turned over to the broker, pending only her signature the following morning.

This last caveat had not pleased Soshitsu in the least who, in all likelihood, erred on the side of caution and calculated the woman would not emerge alive from this meeting with Souma. But Galina had been immoveable on the point, not trusting the plump, balding and fearful little man as far as she could throw him, to reneg on their deal the moment her money was in his proverbially - and literally - sweaty palms.

And though Soshitsu was almost superstitiously fearful of telling her where Souma was at this moment, Galina was not about to allow his manservant Naoki the luxury of that timidity. The young man, dressed in his Western-style best, gave up the goods easily enough with only the mildest of explanations, that she must of course be prepared for this meeting. He did not even argue when she insisted on returning to her hotel room, to change before they left. 

The famous [i]Ponto-chō[/i] district was revered throughout the city for its geisha houses and for its various entertainments: visual, theatrical and carnal. It was also not much more than a very narrow and well-traveled street and, if this was where Souma and Daisuke had chosen to hide? Well, she could only surmise Souma had good reason for keeping his survival and location secret, and she would be foolish to bring attention to their tea room sanctuary.

When Galina emerged once more, she far more resembled the Shizuka she had once been, garbed in a deep blue silk kimono wrapped with an [i]obi[/i] dyed in a paler shade, her hair loosened and then rearranged with a simple cherry blossom [i]kazanshi[/i], that was, in truth, merely a hair ornament this time. Anatoly remained in the hotel's stable, and the [i]shashka[/i] in her locked trunk as well. 

Though [i]certainly[/i] nobody would fault her, for the [i]kindjal[/i] neatly ensconced in her [i]obi[/i], or for the Colt .45 revolver strapped beneath those flowing silks in a hip holster.

Naoki proved to be magnificently competent, likely the reason Soshitsu trusted him with this information and destination in the first place. He arranged for a rickshaw to carry them to the[i] Ponto-chō[/i] district, and depositing them both at the end of the long, narrow street. Galina’s arm neatly tucked into Naoki’s, there was precious little to draw too much attention to the Western-dressed Japanese man and the young, kimono-clad lady at his side. And Galina’s natural coloring, the dark brown hair and eyes and pale skin, did not draw any particular gaze her way, particularly not in a place where the matchless, spectacular geisha resided. 

The geisha house where Naoki brought her was very like the dozen others along the district's narrow streets: two stories with a balcony along the top story, side-by-side like the British brownstone homes, though these homes were bright painted, festooned with gaily colored lanterns and banners around the masterfully crafted arched entrance. But for all the brilliance and beauty of the geisha house, the first thing to strike Galina when she walked inside was the mouthwatering scent of… [i]Ramen.[/i] That simply [i]had[/i] to be ramen, pork if she was to guess, and it was a dish Galina had become inordinately fond of this past year. Her belly rumbled, not loud enough to catch anyone’s attention though her cheeks colored nonetheless

Only a few steps within, Naoki nodded to her left with a sly smile, toward the undeniably familiar hulk of a man seated in a room off the way. Chopsticks lifted to his lips, full of noodle and what looked to be a luscious piece of shining meat, Daisuke the Fist was an absolutely unforgettable sight… 

Swiftly, Naoki took Galina’s hand, bringing her fingers to his lips for a playful kiss, and then disappeared back out to the street. Galina could only laugh before she turned her attention to Daisuke who, unsurprisingly, did not look the least pleased to be interrupted at his meal – or perhaps the scowl had far more to do with Galina simply being… Well… [i]Galina?[/i] She bowed her head to the Fist, her smile wide and so [i]incredibly[/i] pleased. Naoki, it seemed, had left something of his playfulness behind with him, and she simply could not help the grin.

“It has been [i]far[/i] too long, Daisuke,” she purred softly, every word a warm, impishly mischievous musical note. “And… I do not suppose there is more of that ramen to be found? This day has been long, tiring, and decidedly without sustenance I am afraid.”