was there ever any doubt?

Izaya lounged against a tiled pillar in the middle of the station. There was so much more he could be doing right now, but he was never one to back away from a deal.

With valuable information at stake, straight form the source no less, he'd agreed to house mob boss Yuki's daughter until she found her feet in Ikebukuro and got her own place, away from whatever threats there were surrounding her own home. Of course, it was more than information, his arm had been twisted in a poor agreement not long ago, and he hated having those things hanging over his head.

He tapped at his phone whilst he waited for the next flood of people from the trains, idling in chat rooms as Kanra.

If Kumiko could have it her way, she wouldn't be stuck having to go live with somebody her father occasionally worked with or dealt with or whatever. Really, she would have preferred to just go somewhere where she was entirely anonymous, where nobody would figure out who she was, maybe with a new name, start a new life. She'd rather get away from all of the trouble that came with her father's mob.

But, what Kumiko wanted apparently didn't matter to her father, not when he thought this was the safer route. It left her bitter the entire train ride; the crowd on the train didn't make it any better.

Even when she got off the train, though, she was still rather upset about this whole ordeal. Regardless, her eyes scanned the faces around her for a moment, trying to catch sight of the informant that she'd only seen in passing, though it didn't take long. He stood out fairly easily.

Izaya's eyes fixed on Kumiko as she stepped out into the busy station. He recognised her from the pictures her father had sent, and kept his gaze fixed on her as she headed towards him.

He was curious, had she noticed and recognised him, or was she still searching? He stayed silent and motionless, aside his thumbs moving on his phone, and kept half an eye on Kumiko as she made his approach, not stirring as she came within several steps of himself. He finished the message he was sending to a contact and checked the chat room once more before looking up properly.

How was somebody so obsessed with staring at his phone going to keep an eye on her? Kumiko almost debated on slipping away from his company eventually, just to see if he would notice. She doubted he would, especially since she didn't plan on talking to him much, anyways.

"Mr. Orihara," she greeted once she was close enough, bowing her head respectfully like her father had taught her. She could be polite, for now. She doubted it would last long, though, since she had to live with him. Respecting mob members was easy, but respecting somebody who only worked with her father on occasion? Not so much.

"Shall we go now? This place is awfully crowded and I'm worried about being slammed into somebody."

"Miss Kumiko Yuki," Izaya inclined his head in response, looking the girl up and down.

He scoffed and shook his head.

"More chance of you being recognised than... slammed into, as you put it," he chided. "To end up like your mother in such a place would be a true tragedy."

He shrugged a shoulder none the less, beginning to walk away.

"Which would you prefer?" Izaya asked as he walked. "Apartment living or house?"

Kumiko couldn't help the small frown that formed on her features to his words. "Not very sensitive, are you?" she asked with a snort of her own before she glanced away to think of the options.

An apartment would be a new experience, since she had always been stuck in her father's old-fashioned home. But, then, a house meant more ways to avoid Izaya.

"I guess each has its own pros and cons," she said after a moment. "Which would be the safest option, though?"

"Ah, now where's the point in dancing round thigns using pretty words? It's a waste of time, honesty is far purer."

Izaya contemplated the question as they walked, tapping his closed switchblade to his bottom lip.

"Both have security, both are fairly sizable, I tend to inhabit the apartment more often than not, just for it's location, but the house is closer to a delightful sushi place."

Kumiko wanted to point out that using cruel words wasn't the best idea, either. Instead, she only sighed and looked away because the topic in general was uncomfortable, given the circumstances.

Instead, she tried to debate the options a bit more. "The house, then," she decided, figuring that the option to avoid him in a larger space sounded like a much better idea than being stuck in a smaller living area with him.

"Lead the way, then?"

Izaya inclined his head, setting off in the direction of his home. He said little on the walk, keeping his head down as he played on his phone and never glancing back to see if the girl was following. Every so often he'd pause to greet someone in the street, a friendly comment or a terse reminder, but for the most part he only slowed when he reached the door and opened his home.

Kumiko had followed quietly, not at all bothered by the lack of conversation. It was probably easier to avoid talking, she realized. Besides, what could she say in public without attracting attention to herself and making things even more difficult. When they got to the house, she slipped inside once the door was open and, despite herself, she couldn't help but to look around, part of her wanting to explore the place she would be living in for and undetermined amount of time.