Prompt, from ballerina-duck/Snow Bunny/arctic_hare: Fakiru in Meiji-era Japan.
This is what a collision between my very first fandom and my favorite fandom looks like, apparently.
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Ahiru couldn't contain the squeal of excitement that pealed out of her as she finally saw Fakir-san make his way though the crowd of disembarking boat passengers.
Mytho-sama and his lovely wife have been taking excellent care of her, and she could hardly wait to demonstrate how far her German had come under their tutelage—in fact, she didn't wait at all, rattling off every greeting she could think of as she bounded up to him, barely pausing to breathe as she launched immediately into vivid descriptions of all the local goings-on.
Fakir, too happy to see her again to be irritated by her chatter, offered her his arm in a rare show of gallantry (feeling quite pleased when she took it without a moment's hesitation), slowing and shortening his stride to accommodate her short legs and kimono—and nearly tripping over himself when she blithely mentioned all the strange explosions and swordfights that seemed to pop up with alarming frequency in a specific residential area of the city, too shocked to answer her laughing question about whether he thought she and the man who was usually at the center of it all (a red-haired man, maybe of oddly-placed foreign stock like her, according to gossip) could possibly be related.