The fan fell from Komoaki's hand as it rose to meet Jason's cheek with a brutal slap.  Anger  flushed through the white makeup and intensifies the red of her rouge.  However, the momet she realized she'd slapped him was the moment she knew her life was over.  He would never take the deal now that she'd hit him.  "Cruel, senseless man..." She muttered.  "You have only met me this instant and you-"  The woman could hardly finish her sentance without breaking into insensed Japanese.<br/><br/><br/><br/>A man approached slowly, with a confident stride.  He was a bit older, perhaps fifty.  His hair was beginning to grey and his suit was tailored and out of date, but still looked like he'd just baught it that morning.  With him, he carried a ledger of brown leather.  His eyes were cold and iron-like.  He looked from Komoaki to Jason and back again.  It didn't take him long to asertain what had happened.  The frown lines in his face deepened and he sighed.<br/><br/>If Komoaki had trouble with this man, that meant he would be difficult to handle.  Hanagiri knew he would have to use the Falconing gloves when manipulating this man.  He turned to the woman in the elaborate kimono and her face grew three shades whiter.  In gruff Japanese, he ordered her to remain at his side and say nothing.<br/><br/>"Please," He bent at the waist and extended his hand.  "I would like to apologize for the young lady's impoliteness.  I am Mr. Hanagiri.  A pleasure to meet you."  With that being said, a sour expression flickered on Komoaki's already pinched face.