FADE IN:

EXT. A DARK ALLEYWAY, IN TOKYO. - NIGHT

Fade up to a close-up shot of ARTHUR's eyes, closed,
twitching underneath their lids, as if she's having a vivid
dream. Her face is streaked with dirt, and as the camera
pulls back to frame her face, as she lies on her back, we
see that her mouth is set in a hard line and her jaw is
tight. Her hair is matted and tangled, but we can see that
clean it would be about shoulder-length. It is strewn around
her, a few strands falling over her face, as she continues
to dream. Small sleep noises can be heard from her. As we
focus on the frame of her face...

....her eyes open, suddenly, and they are revealed to be a
violent, vivid green. They show an expression of terror and
confusion. Her mouth opens slightly.

Cut to side view of ARTHUR, sitting up from where she's been
lying next to the trashy, graffiti-covered dumpster in the
alleyway, jerking upright as if from a nightmare. She
breathes heavily, clutching at the grimy, formerly white
tank top she's wearing. The light of the moon illuminates
her as she slowly slides back to rest her head against the
wall, breathing out and looking up at the stars. A few
murmurings in Japanese can be heard from other dark,
skulking people in the alleyway, homeless people and drug
dealers, et cetera. ARTHUR pays them no mind.

She examines her hands, and as she stretches them out in
front of her we see them from her perspective, blurring in
and out slightly. The hands are dirty, caked with mud and
blood, and her fingernails are ragged. There are a few cuts
still dripping blood on her palms and wrists, but not
self-inflicted; as if she has been tearing at broken glass,
which in fact she has.

Cut back to side view. ARTHUR exhales, dropping her hands
back to her side, laying her head back against the grimy
wall, not reacting at how disgusting it is. We can now see
she is wearing cargo pants, equally torn and bloodied as her
tank top, her knees crooked, hands resting in between her
knees, forearms propped on her kneecaps. Her right foot is
encased in a mud-splattered boot, but her left foot is bare,
showing a simple, torn white sock.

ARTHUR
(whispering to
herself)
Christ...

SHE uses one hand to push herself up, wiping it against her
already dirty pants. She sways on the spot for a moment,
grabbing at the dumpster for support, and then takes two
steps away from it, assessing herself for injury.