@cataegidis
He doesn’t remember ending up here.
The— Professor isn’t here. That isn’t good. Something like bile builds up at the back of Luke’s throat; he wasn’t going to be here, anyway; he’d left for America, and the last he’s seen of Layton was... was that hug, before he’d boarded the ship. He’d refused to go on deck when they’d first left the shore, though he’s having second thoughts about that.
He’s clutching his hat to his head, and he’s dashing across the street, hoping to find— something. He isn’t sure, but— suddenly, he’s stopped by something— someone! — who’d just managed to materialize just before his face, and he falls back, hard.
“Ow...” he cringes, then startles, a little, looking up at his unfortunate victim with eyes wide.
“I’m so sorry!” Luke sputters, still a bit too wound up from the strangeness of the new city, one without the Professor to act as his only point of familiarity in this sea of... uncertainty. “I— I didn’t mean to run into you!”
