Outside the Airport
Taking the starter prompts from Kun’s reblog. [link]
There were strangers watching. He hoisted the heavy luggage over the concrete planter, trying to pretend he hadn’t been half daydreaming as he walked. Definitely meant to do that. He wanted the extra exercise of hopping over the pedestrian divider and dragging the suitcase after him. Completely on purpose.
He settled the bag on the edge of the curb, now separated from the main deluge of people bustling in and out of the airport’s doors. Looking around, he tried to find the taxi queue, but just found himself staring a at a sea of fellow travelers, the Japanese signs seeming foreign after his months away.
Going back to New York had been a good choice though. It had become too much, he’d been too lost in the past and the pain that surrounded it. He had needed to get away, and going back to the city where he had attended university had given him a sense of normalcy and a chance to ground himself. Of course, he couldn’t completely break from his past life, or the Prince. He had meant to. He had meant to disappear into the crowds of New York and forget Tokyo, forget Sailor Moon, forget his brothers-at-arms, forget Prince Endymion. He’d changed his living location. Changed time zones. Changed countries. Changed his job. Changed his lifestyle. He’d even grown his hair out, trying to look less like “Jadeite”. It had worked for a little while, but then he’d felt the inexorable tug in the back of his mind that had only grown more urgent. Nine months later, the pain of avoiding the bond was as bad as dealing with the pain of the memories. He’d had to return.
He had no idea what he was going to say to them. He wasn’t foolish enough to think he’d return to Tokyo and not run into them sooner or later, but he still didn’t know what he’d say. He didn’t even know if he wanted them to call him Kai or Jadeite. He had just known he needed to return to Tokyo. They would probably be angry, disappearing like he had, and only exchanging the occasional email with Nephrite in the time since. He had told Nephrite he was coming back. A brief email saying he was coming back today, and that he wanted to take it slowly so he might not meet up with him immediately. He wanted to ease back into this mess, not jump in headfirst.
The sound of a voice clearing behind him caught his attention, and his head whipped around to look, already feeling the all to familiar tug in his gut. A hand went reflexively to pull at the half ponytail of golden curls, knowing it must look strange to someone who’d never seen him with hair past his chin before.
He tried to make it sound light and joking, but the words came out flat and as nervous as he felt, “Did you have to do this?”
