Nostalgic Grace
Slowly rising to a sit, Aoba opened his amber eyes and soaked in his surroundings, his vision blurred and distorted. Just how long had he been sleeping for? Judging by the stiffness in his neck it had been for quite sometime. “Huh? Where am I?”
Suddenly a skull splitting pain rips through his cranium, and it becomes so unbearable that he had no choice but to bury his face deep into his hands. “Owowow...” He began to swiftly dig through his clothing for his medicine, but unfortunately it was nowhere to be found. After a few painstaking minutes it finally subsided and his features had grown white as a sheet.
His line of vision directed toward his coil, his breath heavy and labored. July 30th.
It had been almost a full year since he had last been awake.