[He quit smoking, but Aki has never longed for a cigarette like he does now. In their brief ransacking of the space (seems like Maureen was more interested in finding the pen and paper that she did while Aki was more interested in the lack of anything from the past four decades in terms of technology he recognizes) he didn't find a single box of cigarettes but did find some beer in the fridge. Which is nice and all, but he needs to keep his head about him right now.]
[Leaning against the wall, still keeping his distance in some respects, Aki stands with his single arm behind himself, gaze fixed steady on a point on the refrigerator for want of anything else to stare at. Compared to her buzzing, Aki exudes calm and composure. Stress, discomfort, malaise, but still and focused. What he last remembers, where he last was. Thankfully, he was doing reports yesterday until late. He knows exactly where he was.]
It's August 3, 1997. I went home to my apartment in Tokyo around eight last night. So I know what day it is. [Confidently. It's one thing he's very sure of. Like the things doctors ask you to make sure you're conscious - What year is it, who's the Prime Minister. Whatever.] I can't remember when I went to sleep. Probably after ten, but I can't recall seeing anything unusual or dealing with anything different from the norm.
[None of the supernatural creatures he kills for a living that had "You're going to become a 1960s househusband in another country" bleeding off of them, for one. Though the fear of this ever happening to him again is sure to birth a new sort of devil. Maybe that one will have those hair curls on its head that made Aki yelp in fright when he woke up and saw them on his bedmate.]
Arrival (b)
[He quit smoking, but Aki has never longed for a cigarette like he does now. In their brief ransacking of the space (seems like Maureen was more interested in finding the pen and paper that she did while Aki was more interested in the lack of anything from the past four decades in terms of technology he recognizes) he didn't find a single box of cigarettes but did find some beer in the fridge. Which is nice and all, but he needs to keep his head about him right now.]
[Leaning against the wall, still keeping his distance in some respects, Aki stands with his single arm behind himself, gaze fixed steady on a point on the refrigerator for want of anything else to stare at. Compared to her buzzing, Aki exudes calm and composure. Stress, discomfort, malaise, but still and focused. What he last remembers, where he last was. Thankfully, he was doing reports yesterday until late. He knows exactly where he was.]
It's August 3, 1997. I went home to my apartment in Tokyo around eight last night. So I know what day it is. [Confidently. It's one thing he's very sure of. Like the things doctors ask you to make sure you're conscious - What year is it, who's the Prime Minister. Whatever.] I can't remember when I went to sleep. Probably after ten, but I can't recall seeing anything unusual or dealing with anything different from the norm.
[None of the supernatural creatures he kills for a living that had "You're going to become a 1960s househusband in another country" bleeding off of them, for one. Though the fear of this ever happening to him again is sure to birth a new sort of devil. Maybe that one will have those hair curls on its head that made Aki yelp in fright when he woke up and saw them on his bedmate.]
You?