[ miguel gestures vaguely behind the two of them, back towards the hallway where some of the admittedly really very discomforting photos of him and the — whoever this is — adorn the walls. ]

I'm in the photos— [ is what he starts to say, but then okuyasu says something about a josuke (what?) and then he swipes at the air, vainly, and as far as miguel can see, with utter futility and mild ineptitude. (was he trying to hit miguel?).

he visibly pauses, just for a second, stilling a touch in an attempt to process one, what okuyasu had tried to do; and two, how he should answer the question. what emerges as his first, immediate answer, then, is a short— ] —Uh. [ beat; a loose hand wave at okuyasu. ] You are standing. [ u alright pal. ] And ... whatever's supposed to come out, you can keep it.

Look, I just woke up here. [ it's not meant as a platitude so much as a vague 'this isn't what I was expecting either', although miguel's not convinced it's going to win okuyasu over. ] And if I was a smart criminal, [ he emphasises the words slowly, a little testily, ] I wouldn't be loitering in a house where I could be easily identified.