Who: Byakuya Kuchiki, Setsuna Meioh What: A business meeting When: After this subtexty conversation fail. Rating: Low. Status: Complete!
Setsuna had not requested any special items for their meeting except for a straight backed chair that would allow her to sit comfortably. She hated soft, cushy chairs. Especially when injured. She arrived on time, a few minutes early in fact, and was suitably dressed in a green kimono, with a simple pair of ballet flats (she rarely wore geta out and about) and her hair done up neatly. If he looked, the back of her neck was done up traditional style, too, although much paler than normal. She sat and waited with her hands clasped neatly in her lap. Dark eyes took in the room she was shown into with careful observation. She missed no details, and kept silent as she waited. When he arrived she rose slowly - she was much better but her ribs were still tender and moving too quickly hurt - and bowed gracefully. “Kon'nichiwa” she said, her accent light and elegant as he wished him a good afternoon, eyes raised to him even as she bowed. There was no hint of the pain she felt in her eyes at the motion, although there was some.
It was impossible not to notice the back of her neck as he drew nearer to his desk in his office. She was formal and traditional, and that was something that he could fully appreciate. He stopped and turned to face her when she stood up. Byakuya watched her for a long moment, before bowing a little bit in return. His own eyes skimmed over her for signs of her injury, before he looked away, his entire expression flat and giving away nothing. He even sounded as bored as he looked, his voice a deep monotone as he told her, "Please sit down."
It wasn't really a question or a request, but more of a statement of something that needed to be done. On the surface, he could see nothing wrong, but he was all too familiar with women hiding things that were wrong, for the sake of propriety. Rukia spoke her mind, but Hisana had not, had tried to cover up how sick she was...and once again the specter of his dead wife had come into play, even so far away from the place where she had died. Indeed, it was trading one tomb for another. Only there were no memorial photos to be found.
He sat down behind the desk, sitting perfectly straight, watching her from under heavy-lidded eyes.
"You wanted financial help with your business endeavor. Tell me, again, what it is that you hope to accomplish and what you envision."
And he sat there, waiting, watching, and seemingly immobile. At least Setsuna had a captive audience. Eeesh.
Setsuna sat gently, and elegantly, giving no hint to soreness. She was careful to do so. She hid everything expertly. No one wanted a Geisha who couldn’t act, after all. She had to be genuine at all times. Hiding everything and being as elegant as humanly possible all at once. Thank goodness her mentor had been talented and passed that down to her.
She wasn’t unnerved by his tone of voice, or his manner of speaking, he was like every other businessman from Japan she’d ever dealt with. Stoicism was a big deal. She had already collected her thoughts, so when he asked she was ready.
“I am looking to bring the culture and experiences of Japan to a new audience. In my observations people believe Geisha to be mere prostitutes.” the only sign of emotion was the tiny crinkle of her eye at this. “and or strippers.” she wouldn’t glorify them by calling them exotic dancers. Not Setsuna. She spoke the truth, and her mind, but did so elegantly unless there wasn’t a way to make it elegant. “The education of the arts is so sporadic that I express doubt in that people really learn how to hold a conversation, to explore new ideas, and to enjoy themselves without drinking their night away.” her voice was soft and sweet.
Setsuna wanted to start a school, someday anyways, and teach people that there was more to life than partying, being boring or rebelling. There was many artistic endeavors that they could learn and conversation being a key one. People just never seemed to have real conversations here in America.
Byakuya looked more like a wax figure than a human being, while sitting behind his desk. He had listened for any hints of deception, watching her with a steady gaze. He still appeared bored out of his mind, even if he had inwardly enjoyed the quality of her response.
It seemed he had been graced lately by women who knew how to conduct themselves. They seemed to be intelligent and well spoken. They also seemed very goal oriented and serious, as well as conscious of any pertinent history involved in their prospective professions, which made financing such projects an easy decision for him.
If only he could find more of a record about Setsuna. With Ms. Croft, her family lines were traceable, and their income was easy to follow. It was harder to find such information during the checks his secretary had phoned in for.
Proving he utterly sucks at conversation, Byakuya asked in a low, flat voice, "I did not find a lot of pertinent information about you. I have certain avenues that I pursue, prior to meetings with clients or investors. It is important that one knows the quality of a prospective business partner's character."
His questions always sounded like statements or accusations. They weren't even put forth in the form of a question, given his manner of speaking He watched her, waiting for a response.
There was no hesitation in her reply, even if inwardly she was a little panicky, it didn’t show on her face or in her voice. She was terribly glad for her family’s care in their business. Mostly because her father had kept his name off any records, and her brothers had been careful too. If only to protect her and her mother.
Her voice was still sweet and soft. “That is rather understandable. Who could object to such checks? In this day and age they are almost required.” she spoke evenly, eyes sparkling, but with no more than simple honesty. Setsuna was a good liar, a great one, when she had to be. She much preferred the truth, of course, but omitting things was easy enough.
“My family has been in Kobe for generations, although mainly they were small merchants or bankers, depending on which side of the family you follow. My brother has gotten into trouble a few times but he was a very rebellious young boy.” she answered with honesty. And it was true, her family had been merchants and bankers tracing back generations, but they had never made a big name for themselves. Mostly because their businesses had been fronts since the start of the Yakuza. But it would be hard pressed to find direct ties, although if one pressed hard enough, for long enough, they would be able to dig up a link between her father and the group. Vague and loose at best, but doable.
Apparently, because he lives in the equivalent of a fancy but impersonal tomb of a house, Byakuya has nothing better to do than have meetings, make sure no evil doers get their hands on his sister, and to conduct background checks on prospective business partners. He is secretly nosey, since he doesn’t like liars or criminals. He couldn’t find much about those links to the Yakuza with her family, because everything was very nicely covered up. As it was, nearly a third of Japan probably had contact with the Yakuza or some other criminal underground element, and the Yakuza didn’t merely take part in criminal activities. They had been known to offer aid during times of crisis or emergency, such as after earthquakes or a tsunami.
Even so, he didn’t have dealings with them personally. Byakuya thought his duty as someone who had noble lineage (even if it didn’t matter in this day and age) was to uphold the law and set an example. He didn’t want to conduct business with criminals. It would tarnish his family’s name and dishonor all that his ancestors had left him with. Thus all of the caution being taken on his part.
So if he ever finds out about those ties, expect the super massive aloof disappoint!
"I have been made aware of your lineage, Meioh Setsuna," he stated with a note of disinterest, still watching her, still without moving. "Your family line having business as merchants and bankers means that you are familiar with finance to some degree. I refer to more recent events, pertaining to your family's current generation."
That was a subtle hint that he didn't find very much about the injury that she was expertly hiding from him. It was his way of asking, without really asking. Because he's not really doing that.
Setsuna smiled ever so sweetly, a gentle winning smile. he’ll never ever find out… not from herrrrrrrrrrrrr before she canted her head a bit and smiled again. “Father works for a private equity firm in Kobe and my mother works for an advertising firm. My brothers were attending school when I left for training.”
“As for me, I spent from 15 on in training. Graduated at 20 and spent the next few years working full time. Until I had a client who was a bit too rough and wanted more than he knew was appropriate.” she lowered her eyes, demurely, because even she never believed in some of the less savory tourist traps that promoted Geisha as whores. “I was sent here to recover and start over.” She dared to lift her eyes just a smidge.
“His family is in local government, you see, and the thought of him acting out in such a manner was dishonorable, and to hide the shame, he was sent away and my family sent me away so there would be no retaliation for reporting him and his actions.” Setsuna was properly demure, and troubled at causing such a fuss. Even if by sent away she meant dead. But whatever.
"I see. What is the name of this individual," Byakuya asked in an entirely calm, cool, and collected tone of voice. To act in that manner and not control one's self was absolutely shameful. At least now, her wish not to speak of it made some measure of sense. "He should be kept away from you at all costs."
In the event he should find out where she was and enact some revenge, of course. Mr. Kuchiki is indeed very careful with his investments, be they persons or objects. He also doesn't like tourist traps or anything cheap or tacky. He wouldn't even be caught dead at some scenic roadside overlook that had a little shop that sold postcards, shot glasses, and refrigerator magnets. That is his idea of hell: cheap things.
“Kuroki Hachiro. I believe he was sent to Germany, so I am hoping that is where he shall remain.” Different guy, but that was alright. He didn’t need to know this man wasn’t the one who attacked her. But he had been a governmental family’s son, and he had been sent to Germany after illicit soliciting of a geisha, so it fit. The real guy was dead and buried somewhere. Oops?
“Indeed. When he did not get his way, he turned violent. Such men are not men at all, but creatures who should be locked away.” she said with a vaguely haughty tone of voice. She didn’t like men who took advantage of women, after all. Setsuna was used to the finer things in life, too. Cheap magnets were not her idea of elegant. And Setsuna had no desire to be a tourist attraction - she wanted to genuinely foster culture and learning in Americans. She felt that they were often too brash for their own good and could use a moment to stop and think.
Oh Setsuna. You fibber. Of course, if the story matched up (which it probably did if she had those family connections), he wouldn't ask any further. At least until he found out otherwise, if that ever happened. He committed the name to memory and nodded once, and only once, to let her know he agreed.
Unfortunately though, Byakuya had no room to talk about being brash, since his own childhood was full of his escapades of sliding down banisters, tripping servants, breaking things by throwing them out windows, and yelling a lot whenever he was angered (which happened often). He was not easy to put up with. Or at least he wasn't, until his parents died, and his grandfather took over, and explained that he had to channel his impulsive tendencies toward more productive endeavors.
He was the perfect picture of calm as he folded his hands together and spoke, "I see. I will have someone look into it, because he seems like someone who has destructive tendencies toward women." There was a pause before he asked, "How much capital will you require to start your business endeavor, and how much longer do you need to fully recover."
Setsuna was the picture of innocence, thank you very much. A gentle smile on her face the entire time. Some lies came easily. Some did not. She hated lying, after all, but sometimes, you had to protect yourself. Family, after all, came first. And they’d protected her. She had to protect them, and herself. There was a loyalty there that was unmatched. And admirable.
She inclined her head to him. “You are very gracious.” not that she didn’t have the situation under control. But no worries there. Because Setsuna was the daughter of a daughter of bankers, she knew exactly how much it cost to start a business like hers. Thankfully, she had plenty of money to invest on her own, however, she didn’t want to bankrupt herself, after all. So she carefully spoke a number, that was perhaps half of what she really needed to worry about. Then deftly pulled a slender leather bound folder from the folds of her kimono and rose to offer it to him.
Inside was a detailed plan - including building fees, decorations (after all it had to look like home, right?), down to projected utilities and upkeep costs, and projected earnings. Modest after a year or two, due to the newness of the idea. “Work on the endeavor can begin whether or not I am fully healed or not.” she gestured as if it say it was of no matter.
Byakuya reached over to take the folder in hand, putting it down on the desk as he sat down again. There was a long moment of quiet after he opened it and began to look things over, of the sort that could probably drive most people mad. Somewhere, the house settled, and someone a floor below coughed, and it was so quiet, it was still audible.
Even though everything looked to be in order, he finally noted, "The amount you gave will not cover the entire cost of the project. The funding is, partially, a charitable grant. You do not need to pay it back in full. We set aside money every year for such projects."
He closed the folder, moving it aside with the slow sweep of one hand.
"I do not believe I asked if work beginning on the endeavor was dependent on you being well or not," he pointed out, locking a stare onto her face. "Rather, I wish to know how much time you needed to fully recover, for working in this capacity will take a toll on you. Construction can begin immediately once the financial arrangements are finalized."
“I know this.” she said after a moment. She hadn’t moved or fidgeted the entire time he was reading the file. Setsuna had the patience of a saint, after all. “I have learned to never ask for something in full without knowing the entire details of what is available. As such I wrote that.” she pulled a still straight piece of paper from the depths of the robe, rising to lay it with the folder. The sheet included the last of the items of the project, that brought the total to a full amount. She had only cut about 35% out, she had figured on funding herself.
“Two weeks at the most. I have learned a valuable lesson in this.” she said, once more sitting perfectly straight and composed. Silently thankful for the hard chair she was sitting in. Then a delicate smile brightened her face. “In truth I look forward to returning to work. I have been idle for too long.” not that she’d really been idle. but for those whose lives revolve around work, sometimes being out of it for more than a few days was disconcerting.
He looked that over as well, with the same amount of cold, hard scrutiny.
"Save your own money, should you find yourself in unexpected circumstances," he informed her, adding that slip of paper into the leather bound folder. "You are thinking ahead with your financial planning, you have a strict work ethic, and you will exercise caution with your clientele. That is commendable. I see no reasons why this venture can not go forward."
Should everything continue to check out, that is.
After a long moment of staring at her with the same apathetic expression on his face, Byakuya told her, "Our meeting is concluded."
“Of course.” she said lightly, not at all concerned about it all. “Thank you.” she rose again, and bowed once more, gracious and thankful for his assistance. She was immune to the stare - it was one she’d gotten many times before. People didn’t bother her. His stoic nature didn’t bother her.
She moved towards the door, then paused as if she had forgotten something. Then pulled a carefully rolled item from her sleeve and turned back around to lay it gently upon his desk. “Thank you, again.” she didn’t say she’d not disappoint, that much was apparent.
The rolled up item was a scroll hand done, by her hand signed with her tiny chop. She inclined her head and swept towards the door, moving lightly over the ground.
"We will speak again," he stated, buzzing for his personal secretary to open the door and helpguide Setsuna out, "for I like to remain informed on how projects are progressing."
After inclining his head to her in farewell, Byakuya momentarily stared down at the gift. He was content on leaving it there for now, because he did not want to appear swayed by such things in anyone's prescence. However? Once he opens it and sees what it was (impressive, that’s what), as well as the artistry involved, it was probably going to be the focal point in his otherwise incredibly bare and impersonal office.
Someone was going to be due for a formal thank you message, after the fact.