The plane touched down with a gentle jolt, tires kissing the tarmac.
Luca's eyes opened—he hadn't realized he'd dozed off during the descent.
The cabin around him stirred to life, passengers stretching, reaching for overhead bins, the familiar rustle of arrival.
His heart hammered in his chest.
Japan.
I'm here.
He looked out the window—the sky was overcast, a soft gray that felt both foreign and strangely welcoming.
Buildings in the distance, vehicles moving with precision, everything orderly, clean, so different from home.
The seatbelt sign dinged off.
Luca stood, grabbing his carry-on, joining the slow shuffle toward the exit.
His legs felt stiff, his mind foggy from the flight, but underneath it all—excitement. Anticipation.
Noel is somewhere in this city.
The thought made everything feel surreal.
He moved through the jet bridge, into the terminal—bright, modern, signs in Japanese and English guiding the flow of travelers.
