If you didn't spot that mansion peaking through the trees, you'd assume yourself to be blind. Its taller than the trees, so how you didn't spot it at the end of the road further back is beyond you. It just encourages a quicker pace, realising that soon you'll be able to take a break from this long ass walk. Not a single light was on, and the windows themselves didn't look like they could even be opened with the amount of vines growing over sealing them shut. This place is probably held together by the very mites eating it. Knocking on the door wasn't a hard task, but deciding to open if after a minute or two was. You didn't want to be prosecuted for trespassing, but you had a feeling there'd be no witnesses to back up that testimony.

"Hello?" A hallway splits into three directions, one on the left and right, and one opposite the front door beside a wide set of stairs. It obvious that whoever owned this house before abandoning it had a taste for the finer things in life, as there's a thick red carpet up the center of the stairs.

You can't help but step further inside, checking out each hallway. Maybe this will be a cool story to tell your friends.Abandoned houses don't just fall into your lap like this. It would so much better if they were with you though. You could explore all of the place, maybe find out what type of person lived here and root through all their belongings. Or take pictures of the place, find mail that's been abounded, browse their books, judge their interior design or... fix the paintings in the hallways. Yeah, the first exciting thing you do is set them all straight because damn, you aren't going to be able to pass them without straightening them up. It's like someone purposely tilted every single one.
How else would they have gotten like that? Unless an earthquake did it. Or maybe someone did it for the aesthetic? There's no real plausible reason for them to be like that, so you quickly get the job done down the right side of the house.

There's a kitchen, light switch right beside the door that almost swings back on your face. The thing is chained at the hinged, and you squint in thought. Is that, like, a safety precaution thing? For fires? The kitchen itself is set out in a U-shape, a big black hunk of metal making up the stove. It looks like it must weigh a tonne with the paint job flaking off. So old time-y.
You move on as you look through all the cupboards. It all looks pretty old fashioned, everything faded an off white. You take a while debating on opening the fridge. It's one of those chunky fridge-freezers, a cream with metal lining and handle. You really don't wanted to open it to extremely expired food that's gathered an ecosystem, so you opt for the safer choice. Cupboards. It's exactly what you expected. Just equipment and preserved food of some unknown brand. There's another door to the left of the room, but it doesn't budge. It's weird for a pantry to have a lock on it, but you move on. Maybe the previous owner was an amazing chef with expensive equipment and meats in the back. Who knows. There's a long table on the other side of the room, so this person obviously hosts often. You move out the room and instead of keeping straight, you veer right down the hallway next to the stairs. You're surprised with what you find.

You think what you're stepping in is a green tatami matt, as the entire room looks like some sort of dojo from an anime; all creams and greens with those paper windows. A samurai suit is in the corner, display cabinets plopped around the room with antiques. This place doesn't feel creepy, but you feel like somethings miss. Not with the room, but with you. Like, somethings nawing at your brain it's not deja Vu, something else... Like it's recognisable? No, that's not it. Where would you know this from?

"Shiny." You lean forward to look at your reflection in the breastplate of the armour. You check yourself out, fixing up your parting before smiling. Not bad for a lazy morning. Your skin is clearing up. You give a soft sigh at that. It feels like forever since you didn't look at your own reflection and wince at some sort of imperfection. You go to the only other door in the room, on the right of the door you entered from, only to find another hallway. Theres nothing of note, and the only other door is locked so you make your way back to the main entrance.

There's a mirror, more lopsided picture frames, tables with dead plants and then a bathroom and a lavatory. The only unusual thing is the fact the lavatory has carpet. God, imagine accidentally peeing on the carpet and not being able to remove it properly.

"Fuck!" You jump, swearing at the sound of a door slamming closed. You look around, like you're going to be able to pin point it from the back of the house. It wasn't the front door, was it? All the doors in this house so far have slammed shut from the weight of them, so it's kinda hard to tell.

"Oh, I fucking jinxed it." Damn you for saying there'd be no one to witness you doing a crime. Only your luck would do this to you. All you've got to do if run down the hallway and out the door. Hopefully whoever it is hasn't be-lined for the downstairs bathroom. Otherwise, you'll be arrested. Mugshots won't look good on job applications.
You sneak out, peering around. You stop at the door, trying to hear them out. You don't want the door to be too loud while opening it, so you try to get a jist of where this mystery person is. You stand still for a while, really trying to concentrate. Nothing. You hear nothing. Releasing a breath, you rush back towards the front of the house and open the front door. Except you don't. Because it won't open.

"Fuck me." You huff, yanking it a bit harder. Nope, it's not the case of it being stuck, because the bolt clangs with all of your effort. Whoever came in locked the door behind them. For fuck sake. You didn't want to deal wtih people today. You aren't dressed to deal wtih people! Just a lazy walk!

You try to open the windows in a last ditch attempt at trying not to embarress yourself. God, you're even barefaced. You take back what you thought earlier when gazing at your reflection. You look like shit! This outfit isn't good enough to pull off the whole innocent vibe! Maybe you could sneak out the window, but as you deduced ever so smartly earlier they're stuck. Even the fourth window you check. You're scared that the rotten wood paneling will completely pop the glass out if you use too much force so you resign yourself.

You're gonna have to ask the owner to let you out. You just need to be as polite as possible while giving doe eyes. You're mother always said you are very good at getting your own way scot free. How did she always phrase it?

You could fall in shit and come out smelling like roses.

Flutter flashes, part your lips ever so slightly, and softly furrow of your brow like your simultaneously trying to push them up against a heavy weight. Yeah, that will work against whoever else is here. Manipulation is your best weapon after all. You're not really good at anything else.
As you walk up the stairs, you list off in your head what to do. Don't surprise the person, be soft spoken, act confused, say you got lost, mention people are looking for you in case they're some crazy psycho who'll try to kidnap you, use please and thank yous, and most importantly watch out for any red flags.

You make your way up cautiously. You don't want to spoke them or yourself otherwise you'll look hella suspicious. You feel grime build up on your hand from the bannister and grimace, rubbing it off as well as you can on your trousers. Now your hand feels all yucky, and a dirt stain will make such a great first impression. Yay, go you for not thinking that one through. Now you just need to figure out where this owner is. You didn't hear another door open or close so they must still be wondering the halls.

There's a thunder of footstops coming from the east of this floor, but it spooks you quickly. You backtrack, only for two full grown men to barrel into you. You hit the floor, ass first and hiss in pain. That was your fucking coccyx. You supress the urge to swear loudly, and with many profanities, and instead look at the people who are running around like headless chickens. You can supress the wince on your face and get up before checking out the men.

These two people--these two strange, mystical, confusing and fascinating people; are either two superb cos-players or the former that your mind refuses even to speak. The very idea is preposterous, against your realms reality. It may be that you had hit your head, damaging your brain. Maybe even so that you didn't make it all the way up the stairs and are in a coma at the bottom. But, against all realms of possibility, that isn't so.

The two figures you have run into are Japan and Prussia.

Now is the time to accept the possibility that I am are insane.