Me? I'm Your Father's Cat [Yugiri/Ada]

Indeed, the only daughter of the Burgstaller head had been informed of her impending visitor. It was actually pretty rare that Ada ever had visitors at her home; she was already positive that the tabloids would be talking for months about her dusky, exotic visitor. Well, it would get her more time on the air, at least, so she couldn't complain too terribly much.

Making sure she looked presentable (and of course she did), Ada opened the door for her guest. Honestly, her father hadn't given much description of this visitor beyond the surface-level, things such as her hair, eyes, skintone, the like. She'd not been expecting someone this classically beautiful, honestly, nor someone who appeared so...well, young.

"Welcome, welcome. Yugiri, yes? Adalwolfa Burgstaller, but do feel free to just call me Ada. Come in, can I offer you tea?"

It was an almost strange disconnect, the quick pace of her speech when compared with the polite, almost formal choice of words. The apartment itself was much the same in nature, very modern in its architecture and with a view of the futuristic Karakura, yet filled with classical decor. Dark woods and rich leather upholstery lay throughout the place, and bookshelves lined several walls.

"I am really so glad to finally meet you. My father's spoken quite highly of you."

It was quite apparent to Ada in only a moment that Yugiri had certainly had a fine upbringing. It was in those little things, the way she walked and carried herself, her cadence in speech, all of that. In truth, Ada honestly felt like she should have been a bit taller to complete the image, but she'd never say that aloud. It would be rude beyond words, of course.

"Ah, it's white tea, from a small grower north of the city. They have rather small harvests every year, but I always make a point to visit and buy enough to last until the next year."

As she brought the teapot from the counter to a small wooden table by the window, Ada pulled out a chair for her guest before taking a seat herself. It was clear that the heat of the teapot, its contents still visibly steaming, bothered Ada very little, even as she held it with no particular guard for the heat. Well, she was her father's daughter, after all.

"Father has been living quite simply these past few centuries, hasn't he? Ah, not that I want to seem as though it's a criticism. I know that a lifestyle like mine is no longer what he desires, and I am very glad to know that he's happy."

Taking a small sip of her tea, Ada looked out over the city, pondering how best to broach the next topic she wished to discuss.

"You know, Father's not sent someone here to meet me in all the time I've lived in Japan. Usually he seems hesitant even to call, as if afraid might be bothering me. Yet, there was such excitement in his voice when he asked if I would meet you. I don't believe I've ever heard him speak quite like that."

"Well, I'm told I take after my father."

There was something about Yugiri's response that Ada could only describe as very cute. Not in any attractive sense, of course, just in the same sense that you might find a rabbit cute. It was obvious that she hadn't had much exposure to the more plain, everyday aspects of interpersonal interaction, which she supposed aligned with her clear higher upbringing.

"I hope I'm not being too forward, I hardly mean to make you uncomfortable. But I don't believe that what you've said is true. To him, at least, you are something quite special. I know he would never have it in himself to say as much to you, likely because he simply does not know how to say it. Or, perhaps he's simply a bit embarrassed."

Shrugging, Ada took another sip of her tea before looking toward Yugiri, a small smile on her lips. It was clearly genuine, but Ada was a woman perhaps even more inscrutable than her father. Years of practice in the public eye did that.

"Please, do tell me if I'm speaking too quickly, by the way. I'm just very excited to finally meet you. I have so much I wish to say, and to ask."

"Ah, thank you kindly. You speak so eloquently that I can hardly help but feel as though that is quite high praise."

Ada let out a quiet laugh, a refined and ladylike giggle which only reinforced the whole atmosphere she conveyed. It was no question that she was Erchanhardt's daughter, and yet for all of their similarities, there was something else about her which was profoundly different. She carried herself with a much more cheerful demeanor, the everpresent smile on her face seeming wholly genuine.

"Well, I suppose what I really ought to ask is how it was that the two of you met to begin with. Father has spoken rather highly of you, but I did not have the opportunity to ask him how it was that he came to make such a friend in the first place. I could have interrupted to ask, I suppose, but I would never do such a thing to my own father, particularly given how rarely he speaks with such joy."

Even with so few words, it was quite clear to Ada how much the memory mean to Yugiri. She was hardly surprised to hear that her father had met someone in those circumstances, and though she would certainly have loved to know more, she would not pry. Like father, like daughter.

"I know my father does love to talk when she works. I suppose the two of you have discussed all manner of philosophy, yes? He's surely shared countless of those little bits of wisdom."

Laughing again at the thought, Ada could not help but feel reaffirmed in her own stance on all of this. Ah, but she couldn't simply say it, that would be...well, a great many things, really. Presumptuous, intrusive, and frankly, simply awkward. Besides, she could still yet be incorrect.

"I supose I really ought to address the most pressing thing. I understand he has told you about our family, yes?"

Unlike her father, Ada did not seem weighed down by this topic of conversation. She spoke seriously about it, of course, but the gravity of it that seemed to have pressed upon Erchanhardt was rather notably absent.

"I ought to thank you for being understanding with him. He has always thought so lowly of himself for it."