Shit..

Even if Nagumo liked to screw around in a fight, he never let his guard down. Maybe the shock of getting injured was what kept him upright as he ran into the nearest building.

He dodged the receptionist and found himself in a long, dimly lit hallway with numbered rooms lining the walls.

I need to hide. He could hear his pursuers approaching the building, hot on his tail. He picked a random number, door clicking shut as quickly as he had opened it.

The disco lights flashed into his eyes, but he didn't fail to miss the very confused patron seated on the couch, holding a microphone. A karaoke bar, huh...

Nagumo kept his hand on his injury, smiling despite the odd sensation of blood slipping past his fingers and onto his shoes. He could still fight if push comes to shove, but he'd rather retreat.

He held a finger to his lips, "Just pretend I'm not even here. I'll be gone before you know it." He really hoped they kept quiet.