*Heiji's jerks awake instantly, an aura of ~wrongness~ settling on his shoulders like a shroud. He knows right away that this wasn't where he fell asleep, but a quick assessment tells that he wasn't actually moved. Everything he owned was still in place on his person, and certain bits of it were definitely things that scavengers would steal, not to mention the people hunting him.

Some of the residents of the mansion may remember seeing him before, though now he is dressed in mismatched, thrift store layers. They're all easy to move in, some of it cut here or there to be sure of that, but where he came from must have been cold. His knapsack is strapped to his chest, and flattened with a piece of duct tape to keep it from moving. The zipper on it is broken and it's held closed with twine. An empty gun holster peaked out from under his left arm, the gun itself held tightly in hand hidden behind his knees. There's the hint of old scars on what little skin is exposed.

Despite what must have been a very light and interrupted rest, Heiji looks completely alert. He cases the alcove he finds himself in and slowly unfolds himself. This looked...oddly familiar.*

Am I...

*his voice is a little hoarse, but for those who has seen him before, he is looking much less injured. :D*

No, this can't be.

*he moves swiftly through the first door he comes to and turns in place, surveying the lobby with a growing unease.*

Kazuha!