Hisakawa slowly felt himself rising, taking a deep breath before coaxing himself into wakefulness. Instinctively, he reached over to where he usually placed his phone, not far from his head- however, his hand found nothing but a smooth wooden surface. He felt around, perhaps having missed the mark. But as it dawned on him that he wasn’t in a bed, he shot up, looking every which way around himself. He could see he wasn’t in a bed at all- he was lying on top of a wooden table, and it seemed the rest of the large room was filled with similar tables, as well as matching chairs. The could see into a kitchen from here, but he couldn’t see the tell-tale bright blue case of his phone. As he tried to gather his bearings, it became increasingly obvious that this place was completely unfamiliar to him. All of this was beginning to build an increasing sense of alarm in Hisakawa- what the hell happened!? Was he kidnapped? Did he get drugged and end up here in his impaired state? Did he die and end up in some sort of limbo?

He shook himself out of his thoughts, and forced his stiff body to get up off the table, rolling out the shoulder he slept on. Now wasn’t the time to think, it was the time to act. Wasting no time, he began, once again, to search for his phone- hopefully, he could figure out what happened and get out of here okay.

He picked up several chairs and looked under tables, trying to pick out where his phone might be. This place was just a bit too big, and his back was starting to hurt from all the bending over. He sighed in frustration and stretched, trying to work out the pain in his back, and tugging his hair as he did so. While stretching, he noticed something; another person, also unfamiliar to him- or at the very least, he didn’t recognize whoever it was.

He walked over to the figure. He seemed to be breathing, but asleep. After a moment of thought, he decided to shake him at his shoulder to try and wake him up. Perhaps he was here for the same reason, or perhaps he knows something about what’s going on. Ultimately, it'd be better to wake him then not.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked, giving a gentle shake. A bit absentmindedly, he kept speaking, “Um… and would you happen to know anything about what’s going on here? Or where my phone is? It’s bright blue, hard to miss- um, I’m getting off track." He refocused, mildly berating himself for having gotten so wrapped up in his own worries, "My point is, are you alright?”