Chapter 5

Temporary

"So, all you have is that bunny?"

Iori presents Usa-chan in front of her, halfway hiding her face but still displaying her large hazel eyes.

"You're not the kind to carry a lot of stuff on you, are ya?"

Minase has many purses, bags, and other kinds of satchels, but never does she ever put anything in her pockets. Jordan appeared to be somewhat the opposite. While he had his dark blue backpack, once he took off his dark jacket it was clear he had his wallet and keys in his pocket, and attached to his belt was a leather case for his cellphone, and another pouch which housed unknown contents.

After the episode in front of the casino, the pair made their way inside, found an Italian restaurant and took a seat. Jordan let the young girl order anything she wanted, but only wanted a beer for himself.

"I was coming out of the casino, remember? I already ate." was his response when she asked.

"And you don't remember anyone's phone number."

Again she shook her head. Jordan himself was somewhat a victim of this. The technological age had made storing numbers so easy that people would just select someone's name rather then dial a number. However, the bearded man was alive well before this became the norm, and there were still numbers today that he knew by heart.

"So is there no one you could contact?"

"No."

Actually, this was a bit of a lie. Easily could she get a hold of her father, but this was an embarrassing episode and she'd rather not have to call him for help. However, as a last resort she will go that route.

Jordan sighed and took a large gulp out of his mug, "Well, it's a good thing that your English is pretty good, or else you'd really be up the creek without a paddle. But you said you were part of band, right? Tell me about them."

She only said "band" to simplify it to the driver, but, "Actually, I am Idol."

"Idol?" the term didn't seemed immediately familiar to him. "Do you mean like, singing and dancing?"

"Yes!"

"Really?" there was more then a hint of doubt in his voice.

Maybe Iori didn't "look" like much of a singer, but she was. And she thought about it, Do singers really have "looks?" Maybe Chihaya, who was undoubtedly born to sing, but it was too closed-minded to judge a book by it's cover.

"Alright," it was uncertain if the man believed her or not, "tell me about the people you were traveling with."

"There are two more Idols, Ami Futami and Azusa Miura, and we make up group Ryuuguu Komachi. And we were with our producer Ritsuko Akizuki."

"Rugu kam-achi?"

"Ryuu-guu Ko-machi!"

"Well, that shouldn't be too hard."

Jordan reaches for his backpack and opens. From inside he produces a small laptop and powers it on. As he's doing this, Iori's salad is brought to the table. Figuring there isn't much for her to do or see, Iori simply starts to eat. Now that she thought about it, there wasn't really anyone at 765 Pro who was very technologically adept. Kotori, Ritsuko, and Mami seemed to know the most about computers, but none of them carried a laptop with them like this man did. Could it be related to his profession?

"I can't get a connection," he mumbled.

Failing in his attempt, he powers down and returns it to his backpack. Dejected, he takes another large drink of alcohol and grows quiet. Obviously he's thinking things over, so Iori remains silent and simply eats. Every so often his eyes drift towards Iori eating. It looks like he has something to say, but he doesn't speak. After finishing his large 32 once mug, he orders another.

By the time she's halfway through her pasta, Jordan finally talks.

"Those are some table manners you have there."

"But of course, I have been taught dinner etiquette by finest tutors in Europe. I have been groomed to be a fine lady since the day I was born."

"Alright, I'm game. Tell me about how you've been 'groomed.'"

"Nihihihi, you want to hear about myself? You surely have great taste and refined interest. Okay, my family..."

Iori explained her family situation. About her father, CEO of the Minase Conglomerate, her two older brothers, one studying right here in America and the other working in Europe. As a family they've traveled many corners of the globe and partook in many different cultures. Also did she mention that she was multilingual, speaking many different languages and able to communicate with nearly anyone on the face of the globe. She probably could have also said she got a 100 on her last test at school, but that probably wouldn't have been worth mentioning.

All the while Jordan simply sat by and listened, a bit of a smile crafted on his lips. It was somewhat hard to see with all his facial hair, but it was there. All he had to do was ask a single question and Iori continued without end. Surly was she enjoying herself, and it seemed Jordan enjoyed listening.

Finished eating long ago, Iori nearly continued for over an hour, speaking constantly without even taking breaks to breathe. It had also been a while since the man stopped ordering drinks. What this must have looked to outsiders! Perhaps an uncle having dinner with his niece? A father dinning with his daughter? Or maybe even a grandfather on a date with his granddaughter. There was a good chemistry between the two, hence the reason the waitress didn't bother trying to move them along. But this couldn't continue all night and at some point had to end.

Eventually Iori wrapped up her story not because she ran out of things to talk about, but because she realized there were very important things that needed to be done. Not only was she separated from her friends, but she was still technically stranded without a roof to sleep under tonight. At least Jordan made sure she didn't go to bed hungry.

Reading the rapidly growing concern that had been completely absent the previous hour, Jordan took his cue to speak, "The way I see it, you have only two options at this point. One, I can take you to Metro and they'll eventually find your friends, but you'll be stuck spending several hours in an office or a private cell." Realizing she didn't know the term 'Metro,' "I mean the police. Or two, you can come with me and sleep in a warm bed, and we'll continue the search fresh in the morning."

"N-n-n-nani! Go home with you!"

She didn't want to, but she had to be suspicious of the man. After being provided a delicious meal, she was offered into his home? Didn't this sound awfully familiar to those stories she read about in the papers? But was Jordan that kind of man? Iori wasn't sure, and she'd only known him for a little over an hour. He saved her, yes, and fed her, but why? Why would he go through all this to help her? Had this ulterior motive been his goal all along?

"I had a feeling you'd react like that," Jordan's voice sounded disappointed. "I think coming with me is your best option, but if you don't trust me then we'll notify the police and you can stay with them. They'll get you to your friends sooner or later, so you don't have to worry."

Guilt was filling Iori's chest. Nothing about Jordan warned her of any ill-content, and a tiny voice inside her head told her not to separate from this man. She didn't know why, but there was something special, or maybe essential, about him. Being put on the spot, Iori tried her best to think of a third option.

"I don't think we should stop looking," Iori was speaking off the top of her head. "I think we should continue-"

"Kid," Jordan interrupted her, "the population of Las Vegas fluctuates over a hundred thousand people a day, and the Strip is about 4 miles long. You and your friends could be looking for each other for hours, pass by a dozen times, and never see one another. This Ritsuko, your producer, might not have thought this and is out looking for you now, and might look for you all night, but there's nothing we can do about that. From her perspective, you could be anywhere in the valley, not just on the Strip. But from our perspective, there is one place we know they are going to be."

Iori mumbled, "The Live."

"Er, right, the concert. The concert can be in one and only one place. Your friends are looking for a tree in the forest, but we're looking for a building. Our chances of finding that building are exceptionally high, and once we do, it'll be a straight bee-line to your friends. Going out to look right now will be a waste of time and energy. So there are only two routes about this; go to the cops or come with me."

In the end he was right, and Iori knew he would be. While she was distracted and trying to stay positive, Jordan was calm, calculating, and planning a strategy that would best combat the situation. He really had her best interests at heart. In the end though, it all rested upon her. To take her chance with him or the police.

Jordan impressed her in just about every way imaginable, "Okay, I'll go with you."

Instead of relief or joy at her decision, he placed his hand on his chin and cast his gaze downward in thought. It seemed a new idea came to him. After a moment he reached to his side and she heard a button unsnap. Iori remembered the pouch that was attached to his belt. He revealed it's contents and placed it on the table.

"Take that. You can use it if you feel you can't trust me."

It was a folding knife, and a rather large one. Iori recognized the brand nearly immediately. It was a knife preferred by hunters.

"It okay," she told him. "I trust you."

"Just take it. It'll help give me piece of mind. I don't want it to look like I'm trying to take advantage of you."

The situation was exactly the opposite, but Iori didn't mind. These kinds of things didn't scare her. She took the knife knowing she'd never need it.

"Good, now that that's taken care of, let's get going."