Don't Call It A Gift

When Noriko strolled through the door expecting to be back in her world, she had anticipated the bar dumping her back out actually into her world: about twelve feet past the door on her skates she realized quite abruptly that was not the case.

And came to a dead stop, balancing rocking on her skates as she takes in her surroundings.

"....What the legitimate fuck is this," she says out loud, head cocked and hands in her pockets. Her beacon-bright blue hair is almost luminous; someone might want to tell her to move.