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kemakoshume · 8 months

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Down by the River — Nanami Kento x Tiana (Disney)

Summary: In the early 1930s, Nanami embarks on a business trip to the South, where the Crescent City awaits. His journey begins with new connections and the enticing allure of Southern cuisine. America might not be so bad after all.

Tags: Crack Relationships, Crack Crossover, Crack Treated Seriously, Why Did I Write This?, Fluff, Business Trip, Alternate Universe - 1930s, Drinking & Talking, Comfort No Hurt

a/n: The fan edits got me. My Elsa x Jack Frost shipper is jumping out for this. I have to say... this is easily the most random thing I've ever written, but it helped break my writer's block, so woohoo! Write weird shit more often, y'all. Also posted on AO3.

America was Nanami’s least favorite place to travel.

Work had taken him all over. He’d seen all of Japan, every nook and cranny—old and new. He’d been to China more times than he could count; his Cantonese was better now than before, and he could make his way around without an attendant. Asia was his domain; he’d grown used to recognizing the surnames and affiliations that mattered, what gestures were niceties in one place, and a way to get mowed down in a fit of rage in another.

America was a different beast altogether. It was a wild and enigmatic land that kept Nanami perpetually on edge and consistently uneasy in his own skin. The places were chaotic—New York and San Francisco. Wall Street and Pacific Heights, most often. Two opposing coasts, filled to the brim with people capitalizing most on those with the least.

White-collar crime and cocaine—that was what Nanami knew of the States. It made him wish he hadn’t learned English; he wouldn’t have to live with as much as he knew if he hadn’t.

Despite not liking it, he’d grown used to it though—the coasts and the insanity that happened on each of them.

The South, in contrast, was wholly unfamiliar territory. He’d never been and wasn’t quite sure what to expect as the steamboat continued down the river, churning water and whistling every few minutes as it continued down the path. He'd heard of the common things: the chambermaids and the sharecropping, the stark divide.

Asia had its things, too, though, so he tried not to judge. He was headed to New Orleans for one simple thing: to meet with the sugar baron and solidify a trade deal. His sugar for their textiles.

Simple, tedious. Safer than sorcery.

The ride into the city was surprisingly comfortable. He lounged in a reclined chair on the deck, his eyes hidden behind shades that concealed his exhaustion from the arduous journey across borders—across seas. The sky painted itself in alluring hues of lavender and rose, casting a serene glow over the waters of the Mississippi, like spilled oil paint.

The air hung heavy with the scent of magnolia blossoms, their perfume an intoxicating blend of sweetness and decay. Spanish moss, soft as bundles of silk, swayed languidly from the cypress trees that lined the riverbank, caressed by the gentle breeze.

The Crescent City, that’s what his boss had called it. The birthplace of jazz.

Nanami couldn’t say he wasn’t intrigued by the prospect of it.

"Please collect your belongings, everyone," a petite deckhand announced, dressed in long corduroy trousers and a cute puffed hat. "We'll be docking in port in five minutes."

Nanami adjusted his glasses, straightening out the legs of his slacks as he made his way to the port side of the boat and watched the city come into view along with the sound. The bustling swing of music was expected, but Nanami hadn't anticipated enjoying it so much. The masterful wail of saxophones, the sultry croon of trumpets, and the deep, resonant throb of bass greeted him as he filed off the boat.

Other men exited the boat before him. Some wore business suits, while others wore Navy uniforms, and a few were in Army attire. Most bobbed their heads along to the music, while some outright danced. People lined the port, leaning on the ropes to catch a glimpse of the arrivals they'd come down to the harbor to greet and welcome home.

The city had a vibe reminiscent of New York, perhaps, but it felt more homey. It felt good in his soul.

"Hello, gentlemen. Good to see you all safe and sound!"

Among the welcoming crowd, a young woman stepped forward with a beaming smile, scanning the group until she spotted Nanami, skipping over to him. Her big blue eyes shone as she looked up at him, tilting her body to get a good look at his face. “You must be Kento, right?” Nanami nodded. She must be the daughter. "Wonderful! My name's Charlotte," she introduced herself, coupled with a sweet giggle. "You can call me Lottie, though. Everybody does."

Nanami tipped his head in a subdued bow, a gesture that the American women found charming.

“Pleased to meet you, Lottie.”

She smiled like a young girl, all cherry pink cheeks and tight lips. It was cute, demure in a way that spelled immaturity rather than modesty.

Not Nanami’s type.

“My daddy told me to come ‘round here to collect you. Is this all you brought with you?” She pointed to his briefcase and the small musette bag on his shoulder. He nodded again. “That’s light. Are you hungry? Have you eaten? That Trans-Pacific is a long way’s journey to get here. I bet you’re starving.”

Nanami hummed, acknowledging her observation. "I could eat. It's been a long day."

"A long few months, I reckon." Lottie placed a comforting hand on his back, gently steering him further into the bustling city. "My good friend works at this little ol’ restaurant down on Lafayette Street. It's just a hop, skip this way, and we can get you some good eatin'. Have you had Cajun before?"

Lottie's words tumbled out rapidly, but Nanami managed to keep up. He shook his head, allowing her to guide him through the lively streets.

"Oh, you're in for a treat then. This here is the best food you'll ever have. Just wait until you try a beignet." She playfully wiggled her brows, her enthusiasm infectious.

Though Nanami didn't understand the term "beignet," he took her excitement as a promising sign. "Whatever tastes good, I'll try."

"That's the spirit!" Lottie gave his suit jacket a friendly pat as they weaved through the crowd, exchanging greetings with any familiar faces she spotted.

“Here we are, mister. Hope you brought a loose pair of britches 'cause you’ll need ‘em.”

Nanami looked up at the building, taking off his shades to read the chalk writing fixed onto the side.

Duke’s. Charming.

The ambiance inside was a perfect mirror of the outdoors. People packed in from wall to wall, and the music from just outside the rear of the restaurant wafted inside, adding to the vibrant atmosphere.

“Let’s go sit you down at the bar, get a nice cold one and some grub in that belly. Tiana!”

He sat, slipping off his jacket to drape it across his seat, while his glasses found a home on the bartop. His bag hit the floor with a thud as he dropped it to rest between his feet.

“Hey, Lottie,” a sweet voice floated from the kitchen, followed by the source of it. The woman—slim-figured with rich brown skin—gave Nanami pause. She was beautiful, not unlike many of the women he’d met with her complexion over the years, but she was more, in a way.

Perhaps it was the curls. Nanami had developed a liking for women with thick, coily curls. They framed her face exquisitely.

“Hey, Tia. This is Kento.” Lottie placed a hand on Nanami’s chest as she introduced him. "He's a business friend of Daddy's. Take good care of him for me, will you? I have some business to attend to myself while Daddy’s out at the shooting range."

Lottie winked, and Tiana—Tia, as she called her—responded with a gentle smile.

“Can do,” she assured Lottie before turning her gaze to Nanami. “Give me one second, sugar, and I’ll be right with you.”

Nanami nodded, settling into his seat. A group of soldiers occupied the other end of the bar, rowdy as they sang unfamiliar songs. There was a little curse lazing on the bartop, slumbering against one of the soldier’s arms—surprisingly harmless.

He left it alone.

“Have a nice meal, Mr. Kento. I’ll be ’round to come get you a little later tonight,” Lottie purred with a natural pout, her lips reminiscent of a porcelain doll's. “Don’t have too much fun without me, y’all.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Tiana replied with a warm smile, disappearing into the kitchen to retrieve a full round of plates.

She moved through the bustling restaurant with a graceful rhythm, her deft hands skillfully balancing trays filled with tantalizing cuisine—Creole, Nanami assumed from the building sign. He couldn’t quite understand the difference between that and Cajun, but all the food that passed his nose smelled heavenly all the same.

The spice that clung to the food was present in the air, pleasantly familiar, like the hawker centers in Singapore or the night markets in Taiwan. He still harbored dreams of visiting Malaysia, indulging in street food, experiencing Mamak stalls, exploring mosques, and paying his respects to the land.

His boss informed him he was slated to go to Germany next, for what he didn’t yet know. He could dream about Malaysia in the meantime.

He took out his pocket notebook to jot the thought down.

“Order up!”

Nanami followed Tiana's graceful movements with his eyes, catching glimpses of each dish she served, the way she bantered with the other patrons and had every man in the place hanging off of each word. Her presence was striking and commanding—a woman in charge.

That’s what it was—what made her so beautiful. She was a woman. The kind Nanami did like.

The meticulous care she took in plating the food made it as visually inviting as the enticing aroma was to his senses. Her apron bore the telltale signs of ware of a kitchen in perpetual motion, a fragrant cloud carrying the essence of spices and sweetness floating around her.

As she passed by him their eyes met, and a knowing smile graced her lips.

“So, you’re from out of town, huh?” she said, tawny brown eyes looking up at him through wispy lashes. She cleaned a mug, stuck in a constant stream of motion that made it hard for Nanami to look away.

Nanami nodded, and she placed the cup under the beer dispenser, pouring him a tall glass.

“Thank you,” he acknowledged, accepting the beer when she set it in front of him, accompanied by a shaker of flavored salt.

“How far out of town?”

Nanami hummed thoughtfully, trailing his fingers through the condensation dampening the sides of his mug.

“Asia. Here on business.”

“You’re from Asia?” Tiana's eyes sparkled with intrigue as though she were solving a puzzle. “Which part? Can I guess?”

Nanami jerked one shoulder. “Go ahead.”

“Maybe the Philippines?” she ventured, passing around more beers. “Lots of business types love the Philippines. The soldiers never shut up about it.”

Nanami quirked a brow, aware of why soldiers held such fondness for the Philippines. “No,” he replied, hiding a smile behind his cup. “Try again.”

“China?”

“Nope,” Nanami stated before taking another sip. “Been there a lot, mainly Hong Kong. I’m not from there, though.”

“Japan?” she guessed, her eyes squinting, her brow raised.

Nanami thumped his finger against the glass with a soft clink, clink, clink. “Japan.”

Her triumphant smile was indeed beautiful, with pretty teeth providing a striking contrast against the fullness of her lips and the warm tone of her skin.

“Got a wife hidden over there or something?” she teased, a sweet smirk gracing her lips. “How many kids?”

“No kids, no wife,” Nanami responded softly, feeling the tension in his body from the long journey. “My maternal grandfather was half Dutch, half something else. My grandmother was Japanese, and my mom married a European man in Japan. They stayed there my whole life, so… Japanese.”

“Fascinatin’. What business brings you here? If you can tell me. First time?”

“I can,” Nanami said, taking a few more gulps. The beer tasted different than what he’d had before in the States, less malty and a hint sweeter. “It’s my first time in Louisiana, but not America in general. I’m here meeting another businessman—sugar cane.”

“Ah, that explains Charlotte. I thought she’d just taken a liking to you; she’s always good at finding the handsome ones.”

Nanami perked up at that, a hint of a smile gracing his lips, fueled by the warmth of the beer. Tiana, with practiced ease, poured him another glass.

“I’m handsome, then?”

Tiana rolled her eyes. “You know you are, with your dapper suit and those eyes. Women must throw themselves at you.”

Nanami tilted his head, a little maybe present in the motion. He didn’t indulge nearly as often as he could.

“Have you met Big Daddy yet?” Tiana questioned, and Nanami almost spit out his beer.

He knew enough of what American women liked to call men that they fancied. He’d never heard the term out in the wild, though.

“Oh, excuse me. Eli La Bouff,” Tiana clarified with a teasing laugh, her lips even prettier when she smiled. “Lottie’s father. She calls him Big Daddy, usually. You’ll see why when you do meet him.”

Nanami nodded, a soft chuckle passing through his teeth. People in the South were different, then. Lighter, more hospitable.

Tiana leaned in closer to the bar, narrowing the space between them as she addressed Nanami. “You look hungry. What can I get started for you, sugar?”

Nanami met her gaze, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Surprise me," he replied, his voice low and smooth. “I prefer savory, but I’m craving something a little sweet.”

Tiana hummed, tapping her chin. “How about blackened salmon with a sweet bourbon glaze, red beans and rice, and piping hot Andouille sausage and chicken gumbo to get you started? We’ll pair it with zucchini, corn maque choux, slow-cooked collard greens, mac and cheese, with some fresh beignets to top you off for dessert,” she said, leaning over to glance at Nanami's stomach, subtly assessing the fit of his dress shirt against his well-defined physique, “if you have any room, that is. How’s that sound?”

“That sounds divine,” Nanami said, solely because of the silky tone Tiana said every word with, not because he knew what any of the dishes were. “You make everything sound good.”

“I made the recipes, so it will be.” She smiled; Nanami returned it. “Wait here, get comfy. You have a long journey ahead of you.”

Nanami leaned back slightly in his seat, his eyes following as she went to put his order in with the kitchen. It was then that he noticed a little curse on her back, small—the size of a quarter. It was the curse of abundance. Blessed for riches through hardship.

A lucky curse, Geto would have called it.

Nanami left it alone, too, sipping his beer as he waited for his food.

He couldn't help but smirk to himself; Tiana’s words took root in his mind. So did she, it seemed.

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