He is tired. And he might just crash the moment they get inside. But it doesn't feel right, leaving his brother out here at this hour. From here, I t's thirty minutes at least, to Harajuku. His apartment is pretty big, by Tokyo standards, and there's plenty of room if Jae-ha feels like crashing too.
Akaya leads them through the auto door and to the elevator, which will shoot them up to the 15th floor.
"Lights, 80%," he says as he enters the house. The recessed lights turn on, illuminating the apartment with a warm glow. The place is slightly messy, as he hasn't spent a lot of time in here lately, but it's comfortable looking, with all the typical trappings of a professional musician laying around. A couple guitars, a tray of picks, headphones, a keyboard. Tablets and stylus where he jots down music.
The lights from the city can be seen for miles from this high up, a panorama through the long panes of glass that wrap around the living room.
He slings his shoulder bag to the floor and kicks his shoes off.
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Akaya leads them through the auto door and to the elevator, which will shoot them up to the 15th floor.
"Lights, 80%," he says as he enters the house. The recessed lights turn on, illuminating the apartment with a warm glow. The place is slightly messy, as he hasn't spent a lot of time in here lately, but it's comfortable looking, with all the typical trappings of a professional musician laying around. A couple guitars, a tray of picks, headphones, a keyboard. Tablets and stylus where he jots down music.
The lights from the city can be seen for miles from this high up, a panorama through the long panes of glass that wrap around the living room.
He slings his shoulder bag to the floor and kicks his shoes off.