Originally Yuki wore a modest skirt and light sweater, but now she was wearing an entirely different sort of outfit ... a US Army uniform.
Lost in thought, Yuki didn't notice her sudden change of clothing. Why did that ... boy ... ask me about sepp ... hara ... some samurai thing? The words in her mind changed from Japanese to English as her straight black hair shortened, lightened to brown, and gained natural waves. A few freckles spread across her narrowing nose. It's not as if everyone who's Japanese knows about that stuff. She paused in mid-step. Her now hazel eyes wideneded beneath fading epicanthic folds. I'm Japanese? she wondered. Of course I am ... no, wait ...
Yuki's legs propelled her toward a parked pickup truck she had never seen before. She instinctively pulled keys out of her pocket with a slightly pinker hand and opened the door of the vehicle. Her vehicle. She settled her slightly taller frame inside and hesitated before starting up her Ford. Am I sure I can drive this thing? she asked herself. Yuki reached for a purse that no longer existed. In the next moment, she took out a wallet that didn't exist minutes ago. She was relieved to find a driver's license issued to ...
