You wake up to an unfamiliar ceiling. Old wooden beams, a thin futon, a four-and-a-half tatami mat room with a closet. The smell of miso soup drifting from somewhere, and the sound of dishes from downstairs. You reach out to look for your smartphone, and your hand touches the tatami mat.

The moment you get up and look outside the window, your mind goes blank. A townscape of rows of tiled roofs, a bicycle loaded with vegetables on its carrier, people walking down the street in kimono and national uniforms. No matter how you look at it, this isn't the modern day.