It is evening in Tokyo as a Caucasian man with light brown hair brushed back and hazel eyes walks through the Narita Airport's arrival gate. He is wearing a brown bomber jacket over a red sports shirt, black velvety pants with a braided nylon belt, and brown leather shoes. He is somewhat tall with a pleasantly pale complexion and a smooth handsome clean-shaven face. His deep-set eyes are grim yet gentle and seems to show that he has seen much in his life. Far too much. Yet he looks far from old as his face shows no definitive age.
After collecting his luggage, which consists of a dark red suitcase and an unusually long and narrow black plastic case with a shoulder strap, he goes to get his passport straightened away. He speaks fluent Japanese and his voice seems to match his eyes. Later, he leaves the terminal.
"Taxi?" A driver asked.
But the stranger answers by merely flashing the keys to a rental. That being to a utility van as he had specified.
As he drives to the nearest hotel, the stranger reflects upon his reasons for coming here. Intuition. They are rare in his life, but when he did have them, he can't ignore them. They were so strong and so certain that he just might jump off a cliff if it could prove them to be correct. It had to do with something about to happen in two days and that he had to be in a certain place at a certain time. As it always is with intuitions, the details remain elusive.
The next day though he needs to buy a certain thing. Then the day after tomorrow, he needs to do the mysterious reason that he had been compelled to come here for.