Clara stepped out of the TARDIS into a beautiful, swirling world of colors and fabric. The Doctor had brought her to 1910 Japan and she was incredibly excited. From a young age, she had read about the wonders and treat beauty of Japan's Meiji era. Seeing it in real life, however, was so much more than she had even dreamed of. Surrounding her, hundreds of women in ornate dresses frolicked through the streets with men on their arms, and the air was filled with the lingering scent of lavish perfumes and the melodies of live musicians.

"Well, what do you think?" the Doctor called as he flicked a few final switches on the console.

"It's…stunning," replied Clara, entirely in awe.

The Doctor stepped onto the ground beside her smiling, ready for a new adventure. She turned to thank him, but before she could open her mouth, the TARDIS began to dematerialise behind them.

"No, no, no!" the Doctor cried, struggling to push his key into the door before it fully got away from them, "Don't leave!"

But it was too late, and there was nothing else he could do but sigh and moan "Again? It happened again?!"

Frustrated, he stood in silence for a minute. Then, the Doctor looked into Clara's eyes and explained slowly that there was not much that they could do but wait and hope for the TARDIS to make a reappearance. He looked concerned, and Clara knew that he was always more worried than he let on. She, however, wasn't feeling too threatened. The Doctor always sorted things out, and she could still barely contain her excitement to explore Tokyo.

"So, what is there to do here in this beautiful city?" Clara asked, after an appropriate pause.

The Doctor smiled and slipped her hand into his. They turned a corner to a sweet little shop, filled with the beautiful dresses that the women on the street were wearing.

"First," the Doctor explained, "We need to look the part."

Out of his chest pocket, he pulled a large handful of Japanese currency and handed it to Clara. She grabbed and dashed down the aisles of oriental fabric. The silks and satins danced around her, swept by the breeze coming in from a nearby window.

Sometimes, when they arrived at a new destination, the Doctor would insist that they remain in their regular clothes. Clara had learned this meant he didn't intend to stay long. Now, with the TARDIS gone, they didn't have a choice. She knew she should feel bad for being happy about it, but getting into character with the natives was admittedly one of her favourite parts of travelling.

She wandered until she found a gown that caught her eye. It was a green satin dress with a golden sash, covered with cherry blossoms. She ran her hands down it admiringly as the Doctor came up behind her, and plucked it from the rack.

Later, Clara slipped into the kimono, she learned it was called, and tied her hair up into a bun. The Doctor had changed into a ridiculous getup that he explained was very usual for Japanese men of this era. She giggled, realising how rarely she saw him in an outfit without a bow tie.

They made their way into a party located in a lavish house. It must have dated back to the Meiwa era at least, Clara speculated. The party itself was nothing like she had expected, for it was a handful of businessmen, accompanied by women dressed like herself, who sat and drank tea of strange liquor while the women performed dances, or sang, or played instruments.

As she leaned over to dare the Doctor to go up and perform a song himself, another young man tapped her on the shoulder. Surprised, she turned to him.

"You are an American?" the man asked, lowering himself into a greeting bow.

She laughed politely, and explained to him that she was actually British (as if that was the factor that made her the most foreign). They chatted for a while about Japan and how she was liking it so far.

His eyes stayed intently on Clara, and as the conversation stretched out she found herself gazing across the room to the Doctor. He was performing some ridiculous form dance that apparently everyone else seemed to find quite funny as well.

The Japanese man noticed her looking over, and took her hand into his.

"Why don't we go talk somewhere a little quieter?" he asked.

Not knowing what to do, Clara rose and followed him outside into the warm summer night. They continued to talk for a while, but Clara noticed that he was slowly inching closer, which made her nervous. She tried to ignore it though, as he carried on explaining to her the rich variety of silks produced in that area. Then, all of a sudden, he took one final lunge forward, placing on hand on Clara's back and one hand on her thigh.

"What are you doing?!" Clara spat, startled, before he swooped in to kiss her. He thrust his mouth onto hers and she tried to pull away, but he only gripped her tighter. The man's hand had a painful death grip on her thigh, and Clara struggled against him with all of her might, kicking and trying to punch. Tears pouring down her cheeks, she wrenched her face away from his and omitted a shriek. Suddenly, a pair of hands grabbed the man's shoulders and yanked him away from her.

Clara, in her surprise, fell to the ground. Shaking, she could hear two men arguing. Before she could turn to see who it was, however, she stood up and ran out down the street as fast as she could. It was difficult to sprint in a kimono, however, and she didn't get too far before she fell to the ground again.

"Doctor?" she called, suddenly becoming very aware of how alone she was.

A familiar figure approached, and she began to relax.

"Shh, it's okay. I found you, Clara. You didn't have to run off." The Doctor said quietly, and she realized that of course it had been him who came to save her. She'd been thrown off by his out-of-character outfit, but she shouldn't have even doubted it.

She pulled him into a tight hug, feeling her body relax, and together they retreated to little hotel where the Doctor booked them a room. She kept trying to thank him for what he had done, and apologise at how silly she'd been to separate herself from him, but he wouldn't let her finish. He tucked her into the bed, covered her with blankets (they were even softer than the silk kimono, Clara noticed) and kissed her quickly on the forehead.

It wasn't long before she drifted to sleep, thinking of how this was the safest she had ever felt.