I opened my eyes to the sound of really loud engines. But last I remembered, I had been falling asleep in my room. I quickly scanned my surroundings discreetly. And something felt off. Aside from the fact that I was obviously in a plane, and the language over the intercom was not in English, though I understood every word, everything felt like an overload. Like I was hyperaware. I closed my eyes in pain as my mind worked to process everything I took in. The woman in the third row has had three drinks, keeps rubbing her arm, deduction: she has a fear of flying. The man sitting next to me is in a business suit, has yet to check his email, slight discoloration in the shape of a band around his ring finger, fidgets self consciously; probably from guilt: he's going to see his mistress but is pretending it is a business trip. A young man is heading to the bathroom, cocky smirk, keeps stuffing hands in pockets, girl he left in her seat keeps glancing between the lavatories and her watch: they intend to join the "mile high club". Stewardess notices the odd behavior: it either won't happen, or they'll get caught with their pants down. Probably literally. Middle aged man next to me has been snoring a while. Breath keeps hitching. Sleep apnea. He needs to see a doctor about that soon. Others are sleeping or reading. No suspicious behavior on board. I never was able to do things like that before. I watched the young lady started headed to the bathroom, and was promptly caught when attempting to enter. Both young people were escorted back to their seats.
I quickly scooted out into the aisle, and made my way into the bathroom. I stared at the young woman in the mirror. Not much had changes in my appearance really. My eyes were still the shade of polished jade, my nose still sloped delicately, my mouth still had that little pout to it, but instead of the square chin, It had morphed into a heart shape. My hair was still the same shade of brown that really could be considered multicolored with how it could turn red or dirty blond in some lights, and almost black in others, but it was more or less straight. I looked like it flared near the ends if the hairs, and it looked layered now. My bangs, if left alone could cover my eyes, but I seemed to have chosen to sweep them to the side. I patted myself down to find to my alarm that my stature had changed somewhat. I hadn't changed height, so I was still at about five, two. But it seemed like my figure had changed. I had dropped a considerable amount of weight. My breasts were still rather hefty, and my hips were still wide, but my waist had slimmed down. Nothing drastic like I was disproportionate, breasts notwithstanding, but it was smooth, no stretch marks, no cellulite, just a tiny healthy little pooch that all women had. But most of this was hidden by my over-sized grey hoody. I wore faded dark jeans, and sneakers to go along with my hoody and plain black long sleeved shirt underneath.
Not wanting to cause any concern, I quickly flushed and left the lavatory for my seat. Perhaps I'll have some sort of clue as to what is going on in my stuff. I began sorting through my belongings, finding a wallet. Opening it, I found an ID. The face on it was the same one I had just met in the lavatory mirror, but the name was unfamiliar. Midori Sahito, age: twenty three... Who the hell is that? I could feel my growing confusion as my mind continued to translate the directions spewing from the speakers. It took me a moment to realize that I understood what the lady over the intercom was saying. We would be landing in a few hours. I continued to rifle through "my" bag and found forms of pending citizenship for Japan, forms for my own business, a license that stated I could carry a concealed firearm in Japan, and paperwork on where I as temporarily living until I could be considered ready for the "real world" and bank statements that showed all my funds were transfigured in terms of yen. I did the quick calculation and nearly choked on air. What the hell does this Midori character do to earn that much? I gathered all of the papers, and stuffed them into my bag, as I realized that the name "Yagami" sounded familiar. I shrugged to myself. There was no use worrying about it right now. I watched the symbol for a seat belt begin flashing, and quickly complied wit its silent demand.
The plane had landed safely, and I waited for everyone in my area to leave the space so that I could determine what was "mine". Grabbing the bag that doubled as a backpack, and a laptop case above my head that was stitched with an emerald M on it.
I walked out of the terminal, grabbing one suitcase, with a very similar design to the laptop case, and headed toward the groups waiting for people that were coming out of the terminals. I noticed some still watching the board with the flight itinerary, and others scanning the crowd. Among the latter, I saw a family of four. Middle aged man, salt and pepper hair, commanding presence is dimmed: patriarch of the family and bread winner by some form demanding job, loves his family as seen by the holding of wife's hand in public. Middle aged woman, brown hair, homely personality: matriarch, house wife that cares for her family as seen by the gentle laugh lines on her face and the crows feet around her eyes from worrying. Young teenage girl, dark brown hair, childish attitude, playful: still innocent, but very much like the main crowd of teenagers her age. Older teenage boy, around adulthood, but not quite, lighter shade of brown than any others in the family, seems very serious, very proper way of carrying himself: studious, dependable, golden boy. Likely to follow in his father's footsteps.
The middle aged man continued to scan the crowd until he saw me. His stern gaze held steadily on me, causing me to assume that this was the "Yagami" family I was to be staying with. I continued to make eye contact with him as I approached. "Yagami-san?" I inquired. At his nod, I bowed, "It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Midori Sahito. I am so sorry for the trouble."
"It is nothing. We are happy to help." The patriarch gave a bland reply.
I followed my host family from the airport, onto the streets, and into a large taxi. As I watched the scenery slide by the window, I heard nothing but the teens prattle, as she tried to converse with me on fashion or celebs. I gave short, indistinct replies, hoping to pacify her. Her brother kept shooting me blandly curious glances.
"Oh dear, we've forgotten to introduce ourselves!" The matriarch exclaimed. "I am Sachiko, this here is my husband Soichiro, our daughter Sayu, and son Light." I froze for a second, staring out of the window, as my brain racked my memory as to why those names sounded familiar. I quickly recovered, so as not to arouse suspicions. I turned and smiled to them all.
"Pleasure to meet you." It can't be. No nonononononono. Not only am I in the series, but I'm gonna be staying in the same home as a serial killer. What kind of god did I piss off to deserve this?