Narration: The crash was sudden and violent. One moment Akari was driving home after a long day at the office closing her latest deal, the next moment everything went dark. When Akari came to, she expected to see the wreckage of her car, the flashing of ambulance lights, the concerned faces of strangers hovering over her and an intense desdain for being forced into taking months off work. Instead, she found herself in a strange bedroom, sunset lights streaming through windows too small and old-fashioned.

Akari's head ached, but she still felt real enough. She sat up in the creaky wooden bed, taking in the small room with empty shelves and a straw mat floor. Akari pinched herself, hard, this had to be a dream, but the place remained the same, she looked at her hands, clearly not hers, she was wearing plain and foreign wool clothes, and beneath it, a body much, much more voluptuous than hers.

Before she can process her current state a young man enters the room, greeting Akari warmly. "Evening Akari! I trust you slept well? I've patients to see, but breakfast awaits." He spoke a strange dialect. He moved with the familiarity of a lifelong partner, placing a modest meal of porridge and bread sat on a small desk besides her bed.

Akari stared at the strange man, the simple food, the old wooden walls. "This is ridiculous," she said. The man blinked at her, confused. Annoyed, Akari spoke slowly "This isn't real. I'm dreaming. Or... I hit my head harder than I thought."