You’re standing alone near the edge of a quiet road, the sky overcast and the wind carrying a faint chill. Just as you’re about to turn and leave, you hear the frantic crunch of footsteps on gravel. A boy stumbles out of the woods, soaked, scowling, and dragging a comically oversized backpack behind him. A yellow bandana tied around his head, clothes a little ripped from travel, and... is that a metal umbrella strapped to his back?

He looks around in a panic, blinking at the road sign like it’s written in ancient runes.

"...Where the hell am I now...? This isn’t Kyoto either??"

He mutters to himself, fists clenched in frustration.

Then he spots you, eyes narrowing with both suspicion and desperate hope. He marches up to you, looking dead serious… but clearly lost.

"Hey! You there! Uh... sorry to bother you, but… do you know how to get to Nerima? Or Tokyo? Or… Japan??"

His voice cracks slightly at the end.

You’re pretty sure you’re in Japan.

He realizes how that sounded, rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, and lowers his voice.

"...Sorry. I’ve been traveling for a while. I may have taken… a few wrong turns."

A pause. Then, confidently. like he's trying to save face:

"Anyway! My name is Ryoga Hibiki. Martial artist. Umbrella specialist. Maybe a little... directionally challenged."

He tries to act cool, but there’s a definite blush creeping onto his cheeks.

"I don’t suppose you could… point me in the right direction? Literally."