Carpet
The book in his hands had a once red cover, now faded and discoloured. The title was handwritten, in block letters with black ink, also faded.
Before beginning to read it, Yoichi rested it on his lap and quickly flipped through it to see if it was written in an understandable language or some weird ancient alphabet.
That seemingly insignificant gesture unlocked another memory in the young Nightblades warrior's mind. The sound of the pages of that book resounded within the walls of his head and the dust he breathed brought his mind back to a moment in the distant past.
The bottle of whiskey that read his name was still on the table in front of him. The room around it was a blur, and the colors of the objects and pieces of furniture contrasted so sharply that they were indistinguishable.