The Unspeakables || N.Scamander

Welcome to Japan

Japan in the 1930's was definitely not the Japan that Lila knew.
In fact, it was a complete turn-around from the Japan that she had grown up in.

She disembarked from the ship, disoriented to have the ground meet her feet as she walked out into the harbor, head tilted back to take in the lack of buildings shooting up towards the skies. Her boots - Newt had offered them to her as a present before her departure, stating that it had been his mother's and that they weren't being used anyway so she might as well take it - clicked on the cobblestone pathway leading up to the immigration office. But it wasn't just the old, soot-stained architecture that provoked Lila's attention. The city itself didn't sound like the home she knew of - void of sound and bustling traffic, no car honks in the distance. And worst of all, the flood of people moving with her and against her were completely silent, apart from the occasional murmur that soon washed away with the wind.

It didn't feel like Japan. And she was bound to find out why.

"Hello," she spoke in Japanese upon arriving before the Immigration officer sitting behind the border counter. She took out her fake passport and ID card before she slid it across the counter surface, "my name is Lila Ling."

"Lila Ling," the officer flipped open her passport, eyes skimming over her face underneath his military cap. She could spot the tiny whiskers of a mustache starting to grow atop his upper lip, "what business?"

"I'm a fresh graduate," it was easy to slip back to her mother-tongue, as easy as gliding through familiar waters, "I've come looking for work."

"There's no work here for you. You've come back to the wrong place."

"Japan is my home," she looked at him in the eye, "I intend to stay for a while, at least."

The officer tilted his head, "how old are you, Ms. Ling?"

None of your business. She bit back the retort and said instead, "twenty-three. I graduated this past summer."

"And you've been in England how long?"

"Almost four years."

Back and forth the questions went until the officer seemed satisfied with her answers. He ushered her on quickly, didn't even bother to check her luggage, and Lila forced herself to keep a normal pace until she managed to find the building exit.

When she finally toppled out into the cobblestone street, she took in the influx of old-fashioned cars, the clothing, the way the streets seemed to coil in and out of themselves without the use of motorways to ease traffic. There was a different kind of buzz in the air and even the array of restaurants that usually littered every section of road possible felt different. Gone were the plastic benches she was so used to seeing. Instead, they were replaced by the metal ones similar to those that her Grandma had used back when she was still alive. Tea was served in metallic cups, and on the opposite side of the road next to the harbor front found a line of well-dressed chauffeurs at the ready, poised in their garb like a picture frozen in time.

Lila couldn't believe what she was seeing. It was magical. It was unreal. It was...overwhelming.

She shook her head then. Don't get distracted, she thought to herself, before deciding on a plan of action. She would find her house first - or would try to if it existed in that time at all - before doing anything else. Newt had concluded she might find a few clues there already.

Flagging down a cab wasn't entirely too hard when there seemed to be an influx of taxi drivers and too little people to use the service. She quickly recited her home address to the driver, a thin wiry man that looked about fifty, and was glad for his silence in favor of looking out of the window at the streets billowing past in a blur of unrecognizable shapes.