It took years for Yutaka to learn the name of the man who drove him to and fro. It wasn't until the man lying in the back seat of the car smoking with the door open realized just how terrible it must be to be a chauffeur.
This naturally did not dissuade him from making him pull over and crank the radio so he could listen to one last song and smoke one last cigarette.
He couldn't remember the song, only that the singer was pretty and had a sad voice.
...'cause nobody loves me, it's true...not like you do.

Yutaka found himself looking up into the face of his annoyed chauffeur from his reclined position.
"Not until I remember the name of this song."
Years of driving around a spoiled, music-loving rich kid had given Yutaka's chauffer Tsukuba a certain amount of patience and knowledge of music. Yutaka was informed that the song was called 'Sour Times'.
Yutaka sighed and stood and awkwardly rubbed his hand over his newly shaven face. It felt like someone else's face.
"Sour times, indeed."

His hair wouldn't move, it was so tightly braided. He imagined his scalp pulling away from his skull by dessert and briefly wondered if there was any way he could hasten the process and spend the rest of his evening relaxing in an emergency room.
While his plain black suit was expensive Yutaka refused to tuck in his shirt. It was a subtle statement of rebellion but also because he thought it hid his bulging stomach better. He remembered one young man around his age in a club referring to him as a 'bear' and Yutaka hadn't figured out if it was a compliment or not. Since then he always wondered if he looked like a wild animal or a stuffed toy. Neither seemed particular complimentary so Yutaka decided to conceal what he thought was his most bear-like quality.

Tie straight, hair neatly pulled back and contained, Yutaka felt almost ready to begin the process of not running out of the restaurant and check out a club or a late art gallery. When he saw Ren'ai even that seemed out of the question.
"Ye Gods, not her." He remembered meeting her once before and in an attempt to abort any attempt to match-making Yutaka decided to say the first inappropriate thing that came to mind. He didn't remember the exact words but he remembered comparing her to a broodmare selected by his parents.
He wondered if he should make a joke about his previous obnoxious behavior or pretend the whole incident had never happened.

"Sooooo," he stretched out his word as long as he could as he sat down across from Ren'ai while trying to think of a clever way to defuse his last comment.
He reached across the table to shake Ren'ai's hand in the most platonic manner he could. "I don't believe we've met. Yutaka Mifune."

Utter denial of reality tended to be easier than cleverness.

“Ren’ai, Tasukete and Kyouko’s daughter, though we met a couple weeks ago, remember.”
He knew the odds of a bout of jerk-targeted amnesia was too much to hope for.
"Yutaka-son of wealthy people with poor child-rearing skills."

When the waiter asked for his drink order Yutaka knew the proper thing to do would be to match his date's order with something non-alcoholic.
"Sloe gin fizz, please."
Even after messing up with his drink order Yutaka logically knew the he could maintain an image as an upright man if he didn't drink to excess.
"Um...two. Please."

“So, I trust you found the place all right?”
Yutaka grinned. "My driver did, that's what counts.

Conversation didn't seem strained until the drinks came, it seemed irrevocably broken. He hid his face behind his menu to hide, pretending he was deeply contemplating it.
He wondered if a joke might break the ice or failing that hiring an entire fleet of waterbenders to do so.
"I'm trying to figure out what we have done in the past to make our parents hate us so. I remember my father getting angry for touching one of his antique Piandao swords. Little did I know he'd get revenge all these years later."

He legitimately smiled for the first time that night as he spoke to Ren'ai.
"I can't even imagine what you may have done to deserve this. You must have been Ozai in the last life."
Other than to take the edge of the night Yutaka intended for his drinks to plug the tooth-filled aperture that was his mouth.

The waiter earned a significant tip by showing up right then to ask for their food order.
Finally remembering his manners, Yutaka gestured to Ren'ai for her to order first.
He actually took a moment to find something date-appropriate. "Boar-Q-Pine dumplings. Small, not messy, not noisy to eat and easy to share. It felt like the first decent decision of the day.

"So, um, hobbies and stuff. Like, what do you do for fun? All I know about you is that your pretty and your parents are in good standing. What are you like when you're not being forced on dates?"

“Tell me you’re not going to get drunk tonight,”
Yutaka let a crooked half-smile creep itself across the right side of his face.
"I'm afraid I can't tell you that. I think lying to you on our first date would be starting things off badly. We don't need that handicap, now do we?"

"I can't even imagine what you may have done to deserve this. You must have been Ozai in the last life."
“I have no idea, though I promise you, I was not Ozai in a past life. My parents have this idea that I need to be married soon, and married rich. If you want my honest opinion, I don’t think my dad wants to leave me anything.”

Yutaka couldn't help chuckle at how similar their situations were.
"It's like something out of a bad play. If it's any consolation, and I'm sure it isn't, my parents would probably trade me for you in a second. Apparently, the Mifune line is knows for good looks, keen intelligence and tenacity. I have all but three of those qualities.

Until Ren'ai mentioned being a waitress and a pro bender Yutaka was ready to write her off as a typical spoiled rich girl only interested in parties filled with back-handed compliments and bragging disguised as conversation.
His first sloe gin of the evening was gone but he didn't feel the immediate need to drink his second.
That's neat! I mean, I'm not a pro bending fan but that's great that you're doing your own thing in your own place. I, uh, tried the same thing but it didn't go so well."

“What about you? Surely, you do something besides getting forced out on dates.”
The large man rolled his hazel eyes while sighing.
"Nothing that pays as well, unfortunately." He set his elbow on the table and rested his chin upon it.
"I work for the city repairing roads. I thought it would be a good way to make money using my earth bending. As it turned out, they wanted me to work...all the time. Moving tons of gravel, filling in pot holes, repairing damage other earth benders inflict upon the city. I wanted something humble and blue collar. Now I know that people don't do these jobs because they are spiritually fulfilling, they do them because they have to."
He paused for a moment to cheer up. Thinking about his job sometimes depressed him.

As if to litterly shake the bad thoughts Yutaka reclined his neck to each side while taking a deep breath through his nose.
It centered him enough to smile.
"When I'm not working I explore. Walk around and find interesting places. I like jazz clubs and places with art. If I can listen to music or see a work of art I'm happy. It turns out that despite my wealth all it takes is a few yuans for street food and to cover a club fee to make me happy.

The hand under Yutaka's chin was reunited with it's twin to offer double the support .
"You ever think of getting married just to shut them up?"

“What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”
"I...I..." He hung his head for a moment and wondered if he could somehow turn his thoughts into a self-deprecating joke.
"I went into adult life while a nineteen year-old child. I couldn't change a sheet or cook a meal. Now imagine a guy with a lot of interests and no concept of money getting his first paycheck. Rent, utilities, water...Paying for these things was foreign to me so as far as I was concerned I had some money to go and party. My first two paychecks went directly to the Golden Fan Saloon. Even when I got a handle on that there was still no money. I needed help so I swallowed my pride and asked my parents. They'll help me as long as I still have my job and go on the occasional marriage date.

“Probending is awesome, but if you’re judging by what you hear on the radio, it so much better in person, though I haven’t actually been to match as a spectator in a couple of years.”
Yutaka's eyes lifted as his spirits rose. It wasn't exactly something in common but there was a common thread between two of their activities.
"Music is the same way. Seeing it played live it so much different than listening to something on the radio or a record. Seeing someone talented doing what they were meant to do is a great experience. And when you're around other fans there's just this...uh..." He waved his hands around. "Atmosphere that you can't get from the radio."


“That’s not an easy job at all, from what I heard but then again, no job really is. I enjoy waiting tables most of the time when I don’t have creepy old men hitting on me, rude people to wait on, or incompetent people to work with. It’s not an easy job, though, but it pays the bills, and that’s what I need for – at least until I marry rich and don’t need to work anymore."

“You’re working even though you don’t have to?”
Yutaka shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose. I think if I begged and promised to act more proper I could quit and move back home. I don't really know why I keep at it. I'm always screwing up and slowing people down and the work...it's so hard. Some jerk earth bends part of the street and the city sends us in and we have to get yelled at by drivers even though we're there to fix the problem. All these things are bad but they're MY bad experiences."

As with any conversation Yutaka Mifune was a part of, the subject of art came up.
“Can’t say that I’ve ever been much of an art fan, but I also can’t say that I’ve ever set foot into an art museum, either, I’ve never been to jazz club either, so it sounds interesting."
"Oh, they're great! It's just that one place has more pretentious people than the other. I'll let you guess which one."

"You ever think of getting married just to shut them up?"
“Several months ago, if you would have asked me that question, I would have beat you into next week, but now… I’ve decided due to recent events that it wouldn’t hurt to humor my mother, at least for the time being.”
“What about you?”

Yutaka sighed and paused before letting out a chuckle hiding no small amount of self-contempt. "I'm here, aren't I? Most of the time I hate the idea of an arranged marriage...it's...it's just a stupid anachronism." He shrugged his shoulders and smiled a half-cocked smile. "But, you know...the more I'm around people who struggle with money I think about how a loveless marriage is a small price to pay."

Their entrees had just arrived and already Yutaka felt more at ease than when he first entered the restaurant.
"I must say that you are a lot more interesting than the other potential ex-wives I've gone out with."

“At the same time, though… don’t we deserve to find someone that we more than just ‘get along with’, because that’s my mother’s criteria right now."
Yutaka shrugged. After defying his parents and failing it was difficult for him to process such high ideals as deserving more. "I think 'getting along' sets the bar rather high, actually. I've been to more than my share of high society parties and you can feel the loathing and contempt some of these married people have for each other."

“I mean, my mother met and fell in love with my father when she was eighteen and my father was thirty. She wasn’t rich. I don’t know about your parents, but mine can do, why can’t everyone? I don’t know. I’m a bit torn on the issue, really.”
Yutaka casually cut into one of his pork buns. He wondered to himself why people who loved one another would inflict something like an arranged marriage on their child. Then again, he found the idea of romantic love rather dubious anyway...at least when it came to families of wealth.

"I must say that you are a lot more interesting than the other potential ex-wives I've gone out with."
"Thank you. I could say the same thing about you. You’re… different than I thought you’d be after our first meeting.”
Yutaka couldn't help but blush for a moment. Compliments were sometimes hard to take.
"Well actually I'm...I..." he hung his head and let out an exasperated breath. "Thank you. What I mean to say is 'thank you'."

At a loss for anything to say at the moment Yutaka slid his plate of pork buns slightly toward Ren'ai. "Go on, I ate before I came here. It's a tip my mother gave me. 'Always eat beforehand and never eat noodles on a date'. I've gotten a lot of dating advice over the years but those are the only things that stuck. It's easier than 'lose twenty pounds' and have a manly jawline."

Right then Yutaka thought of something that would both break the ice and make certain that this date would not lead to a marriage interview.
"What's your worst date story? The one with the less pathetic date has to pay for dessert."

A most uncouth laugh escaped Yutaka Mifune's mouth upong hearing about his date's other dates.
"And these guys weren't even intentionally trying to sabotage things, right?"

He stifled another laugh then craned his head toward the ceiling and sighed as he lowered it to look back to Ren'ai.
"Would it be unfair of me to mention the dates that I torpedoed on purpose? There was one time where my date explicitly wanted to sit in a non-smoking section so I proceeded to spend that meal chain-smoking. She didn't even make it to the entree. If you want a story where I wasn't the villain, I have only one."

Yutaka took a moment to pick at and section off a piece of his last pork bun before eating it as he tried to find the right words.
"I was seventeen and not the suave ladies man you see before you," he said with a roll of his eyes. "I was just discovering music at the time and had a thing for musicians." He decided to neglect mentioning that he still had a thing for musicians since Ren'ai didn't need to know everything about him.
"She was the daughter of a middle-class dyer or something. What I most remember about her were her hands. She had calloused fingers." He smiled and for a moment got lost in nostalgia.

After an awkward pause the result of which was talking a little too fondly of another woman while on a date, Yutaka continued.
"As it turned out she played the upright bass, hence the callouses. She dragged me to a jazz bar that would need a fresh coat of paint to be considered a dive. So there I am, obvious rich kid in a suit and really out of place. I could only mumble and if I spoke it was into my chest. That night I was introduced to drinking and jazz and had way too much of both."

Yutaka's smile widened almost to the point of being a gaping hole in his face.
"Just like in a bad radio drama some guy tries to cut in just as she convinces me to dance. Now, I don't know if you know this about men but every one of us at one time or another thinks that they could be the toughest guy in the world. That night was my time. I threw my first punch ever and got my first beating ever. The date ended with me floating in a tank of water at the nearest healer."

A shrill giggle erupted from Yutaka who tried to suppress it by bowing his head. Het met Ren'ai's eyes again once he felt his unmanly laughter fade.
"On second thought, you win. That was the best date ever. The girl never called me back but I learned a great deal about music, drinking and the high price of acting macho."

Only a small sip of his second drink was taken since, much to his surprise, Yutaka didn't feel the need for a drunken haze to get through a date.
"Now that I have thoroughly embarrassed myself tell me something of pro bending. I know absolutely nothing of the sport. What do you like about it?"

When Ren'ai first appeared to him Yutaka thought she was attractive enough. If he had to marry someone whoes only attribute was looks, he could do worse than Ren'ai. When she began to talk about bending she positively glowed and he went from "attractive enough" to "very pretty". When people did something they loved, or even talked about it, there was an aura about them that Yutaka found compelling. It was why he tended to fall in temporary love with any female performer he saw live.
He could see himself potentially not hating this woman. Then when she asked about art and jazz Yutaka could see himself actively liking her.

Bereft of pork buns, Yutaka's plate was clean and offered something he hoped his date would appreciate as much as he did-a visual aide.
He poured a dollop of red sauce onto the plate and gently dipped one of his chopsticks into it as he began to speak.
"I was rather slow as a child. Not a dimwit, things just took me longer than most so in addittion to school I was tutored. Tutors for reading, history, etiquette, you name it."
He began drawing swirls on his plate with a smile.
"And anyone of noble bearing has to know culture, right? My art tutor was named Baki. Any time I painted anything in class I got the same criticisms. 'That line isn't straight, dogs aren't green' and so on. Baki complimented my work and gave suggestions, not orders, on how to improve. Art became fun. We went to museums to see art on walls and parks to see art all around us. My tutoring stopped the first time I mentioned to my parents I wanted to be an artist."

When his story finished Yutaka tilted his plate upwards to show Ren'ai a stylized flame rendered in sweet-and-sour sauce using a chopstick.
"My jazz story is not quite as sentimental. I dabbled in it because it drove my parents crazy. It wasn't until that date I mentioned that I began to love it. Any time I bought a record I had to hide them from my parents if I didn't want them to end up in our fireplace."
He chuckled while squinting his eyes.
"The first album I bought was Blind Lemur's Moanin'. I had to keep it in a sleeve for Fire Nation folk songs."

Yutaka had no idea that things would progress beyond the entree but here he was: his plate was empty and the space across from him was not.
"Umm....dessert?"

“I was never any good with art or anything like that, though it seems you are.”
Ren'ai's second compliment was easier to take gracefully than her first. It was definitely not something he expected on a date to placate his parents.
"...Thank you. I think sauce is an overlooked medium for art," he said with a slight smile. Now that Ren'ai as proved herself kind and likable Yutaka felt his shyness starting to return. He almost wished for Ren'ai to say something horrible so he could speak normally.

“So, I’m curious about something, if you love art and music so much, then why not do something with that? I don’t know if you have any talent with music, but you seem to be at least a decent artist, and I’m assuming if you love it so much, you must have a decent eye as well. Why not do something with that? You obviously don’t like what you’re doing now.”
Yutaka began scratching his cheek and gaping with an open mouth while letting out an extended "Uh....".
More hemming and hawing ensued until Yutaka came up with an answer.
"Sorry. I've never thought about it before. Other than the whole 'I'm not good enough' thing I just don't like the idea of making a living off of something I love. Art wouldn't be an interest anymore it would be a job. If I had to create something or risk starving I'd resent having to create. Besides...I don't let anybody see my art. It's too embarrassing."

After a moment of silence Yutaka thought of the right way to say what he thought.
"It's like being one of the people in the stands watching a match, I guess. A lot of them can probably bend but hardly any can do so on a pro level. Sometimes it's just nice to see someone who is excellent at what they do doing that thing."

Yutaka froze in hesitation at just before taking Ren'ai up on her offer to share her dessert. He'd never made it to dessert before...his dates had rarely survived the entree. Date dessert seemed like something utterly alien and a little bit intimidating for some reason. He gingerly cut off a piece of cake with his fork and found himself liking the taste of getting this far on a date.
"Thank you. I suppose as an athlete you have to watch what you eat."
He wondered if his own job might be a little easier if he led a more active lifestyle outside of work.

"So...uh, in pro bending what do the earthbenders do? Are there rocks on the field or whatever?" He imagined rocks flying through the air at incredible speeds and many, many instances of brain damage and death. Flying fireballs and torrents of water didn't seem particularly safe either.
The thought of drowning or being burned and bludgeoned to death left Yutaka bereft of appetite and he put down his fork. He'd never given pro bending a second thought...or even a first but suddenly he was curious. Yutaka had a tendency to be drawn into other people's enthusiasm at times. He'd never have been a fan of art and music if there wasn't someone around him who talked passionately about such things.

When the check came Yutaka looked at it and then at Ren'ai then grimaced and sighed.
"I didn't think past the entree. Uh, you see, I kind of, sort of...lied to my parents about where we were meeting. They think we're at Kwong's Cuisine." He pulled out a stack of ten yuan bills. "If I pay you ten yuans would you mind not telling your parents where we ate?" He paused. "Twenty? Either way I've saved about a hundred yuans. At Kwong's that cake probably would have cost one of us a day's pay."

Nervously, Yutaka's eyes darted toward the kitchen before standing up.
"I'm going to wash my hands."
He awkwardly stood and walked toward the washroom until he was sure Ren'ai couldn't see him and ducked inside of the kitchen. Once there he felt safe and produced his wad of ten yuan bills.
"I just want to say thanks for your hard work." His parents gave him an odd look when he asked for ten yuan bills but it would be nothing compared to the look of horror if they had seen their son tip every one of the cooks, waiters and dishwashers ten yuans each.

Upon exiting the kitchen Yutaka forgot to check to see if Ren'ai had seen him. When he sat down he practiced his excuse in his head a few times before uttering it.
"I got lost and wound up in the kitchen."