[center][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5407028][img]https://i.imgur.com/jEb0Sf4.png[/img][/url][/center]
[center][h2]Ogawa Nakai[/h2][/center]
[hr][center][h3]~8AM | MT ARAPILES | CAMP GROUND[/h3][/center][hr]

Ogawa has been to Australia before, once while he was alive and another time after he was dead; the latter was for work and didn’t bear much thinking about or commenting on, he did his job and returned to Decibitus in a couple of hours. The first time had probably been back in ’85, a year or two after he became a yakuza and had enough cash on hand to thing about travelling abroad for the first time in his life; the country had been recommended by his Aniki, who’d said he’d had a good time there in the past and Ogawa had had no reason to distrust him and no better ideas himself.

It was shit.

The flight had been long and the airplane cramped, it was too hot, the language barrier was more severe than he’d been led to believe and the beer tasted like crap. He’d much preferred his trips within Japan before and after that; Osaka, Okinawa, Sapporo and so-on struck the right balance of familiar yet novel that he was looking for. Other people said he was boring when he told them he preferred staying close to home on vacations and Ogawa supposed they were right; he just liked things that were familiar.

Japan was familiar, even the parts of it he had never visited before; your home country always had a quality to it that you couldn’t always explain but which you could always feel. From Hokkaido all the way down to Okinawa, it was home. Cigarette smoke was familiar, the smell and the feel of it in his lungs; it was why continued to smoke the things even though death had blunted their impact somewhat. Working as a reaper was familiar; people always gave him odd looks when he told them that the jobs he was doing now weren’t all that different from the work he used to do when he was alive. For most people it was a bit of a change of pace, going from being an ordinary civilian to someone who tracked down wisps, hunted lost souls and sometimes fought for their non-lives; Ogawa had taken to it like a duck to water.

Same work, different boss really. Or at least similar enough that he had a leg up when it came to learning the ropes.

Not that any of this was relevant to the job at hand of course; he was just letting his thoughts wander unnecessarily. Australia wasn’t a place he would ever want to come back to in his free time, but work was work and he didn’t mind where it took him since what he needed to do never really changed no matter where he was. Language barriers had never been an issue since becoming a reaper either, so that was one of his major gripes dealt with too. He wouldn’t be staying for drinks though.

A pack of cigarettes was held out to him and he took one for himself with a thankful nod. Lighting it up with his cheap, disposable lighter, he watched as a familiar face walked up to join their party. “Yeah.” Ogawa exhaled a cloud of smoke that momentarily obscured Aron from view. “We’re here to back you up. Any idea where it went after you and Gali lost it, or should we just head to this Punk’s Rock and spread out from there?”