Pavlova (Welcome to the Ballroom FanFiction)

Step 1: Welcome to Japan

Step 1: Welcome to Japan

Moving sucks.

From moving to a comfy bed to the bathroom, to moving from home to work,

Moving

Sucks.

It sucks even more when you move from one country to another.

What might prompt such a great movement?

Well...

"Hah?! We're moving for your dumb fast food job?!" She yelled.

"Sweetheart, what you call a "dumb fast food job" is a job as manager of the new WcDonald's stores opening in Japan." He stated, resting his chin on laced fingers.

"In Japan!" She repeated furiously. "Japan is on the other side of the world, thousands of miles from America! And we speak English in this household, not Japanese!"

"Your mother is a Japanese woman who taught you the language since you were born, so we speak English and Japanese in this household." He argued calmly.

"I. Don't. Care." She hissed. "This household has been my home for sixteen years. You are not uprooting my life just for a stupid promotion!"

"Sweetheart-"

She slammed her hands down on the table. Steel blue eyes glared at the man seated across from her. "Don't you "sweetheart" me, Papa! We are not moving to Japan!"

---

"Ladies & gentlemen, we have arrived at Haneda Airport. The current temperature is 10 degrees Celsius, with cloudy skies. The current local time is 15:23 PM. Thank you for flying with us today and enjoy your time in Tokyo. Please be sure to take all personal items with you."

She groaned before slamming her head into the seat in front of her, a cry of disdain emerging from the person sitting there.

Moving sucks.

---

"And that's the last box!" Her father huffed and dropped the box in his hands. Metal banged and clattered in the box.

"Papa! My stuff!" She wailed, clutching the box like it was her life. No, it is her life.

Her father shrugged unsympathetically. "Sorry, but you should have carried it yourself if you cared so much."

She gently set the box on the kitchen counter, muttering under her breath. "Who couldn't carry all his lame WcDonald's merchandise?"

"What was that?"

"I said," She hissed, snapping her head in his direction. "Who couldn't carry all his lame WcDonald's merchandise?"

Her father cocked his head, gray eyes boring into her skull. He straightened his back, rising from his typically slouched self to his proper tall stature. Far taller than his daughter, whose height only met to his shoulders.

Her anger fled upon the gunpowder gray gaze of her father.

Normally, her father was a very temperate man, but jet lag and an ill-tempered daughter had made him very irritated.

He smiled brightly at her and she flinched. "The same man who's kicking you out of the house."

"... Wait-" Before she knew it, her father had shoved her out of the house.

"Have fun outside, sweetheart!" Her father waved at her before slamming the door in her face.

"Papa!" She rammed into the door, missing the opening. "Papa, I'm sorry!" She wailed, slamming her fists on the door. "You know I'm an introvert at heart, don't do this to me!"