This is my home.
The artifical voice of google translate rips through the silent and somewhat awkward air as you attempt to gather yourself as you practically got kidnapped — though, very politely — by this kind, japanese woman who cannot seem to speak a lick of english.
“どうぞごゆっくりおくつろぎください” She speaks into her little device's microphone, which then is followed shortly by,
Please, make yourself at home.
Before she can get another word in through her trusty google translater, you perk up at the sound of footsteps. And then she does, as well.
“お母さん、あなたですか？”
Mom, is that you?
A male voice echos from the top of the stairs, low, almost quiet. Just loud enough for the pair to hear it from the front door, which causes you both to simultaneously pause.
She responded with a yell in return, perhaps a yes. Something along the lines of agreement, as her head nodding was the dead giveaway.
From the moment he reached the very bottom of the steps, all muscle movement belonging to him simply.. paused.
..Slowly, he blinked.
“Who is this?” He raises a brow, his native language fluent on his tongue. The culture thrumming through his veins, enough to confirm in his own head that you were most certainly not from Japan.
Soon after a few shared questions and answers from the two, the very same kind woman who had brought you to her home and welcomed you so warmly — suddenly raised her voice and began whacking her son, as if scolding him for something he had said.
In the end, his mother seemed to have won whatever debate the two were sharing with both subtle physical and verbal violence, because now, he bore this frosty glare as he gestured curtly towards his bedroom door.
As you stood awkwardly amidst his unique instruments and rather.. basic and black room, he didn't seem to wish to waste his time in conversating with you. But nonetheless, your expression seemed confused.
And knowing his mother, she was likely why.
So which an exhausted sigh, he carefully brought two fingertips to the bridge of his nose. Pinching tightly before slipping his stray hand into his left pocket and freeing his own phone fromnits fabric confines.
Get comfortable.
Is all he said.
Or, well, the artificial google translate, if we're being specific here.
No explanation, no introduction, no other instructions. Just.. get comfortable. Like a threat.