The noise and chaos of New Chitose faded into a hum, drowned out by the rush of blood in Len's ears, the pounding of his feet against the ground.

Never mind the flashing terminal signs and the arbitrary destinations they displayed in bold, bright colors. He only had one destination in mind. Never mind the flashing signs in the open storefronts, trying without success to lure him in with the promise of material possessions. There was only one thing he wanted. Never mind the displeased travelers he kept bumping into and their angry shouts and curses. He only cared about one person.

But where was he? Where was he? Where was he?

Just when all seemed hopeless, just when the burning in Len's lungs was becoming too much to bear, he spotted them, somewhere in the tangle of the airport: a tall man with purple hair and an average-sized girl with green hair, and between them—

"Oliver!" The name left his throat in a shout, if not a scream, and the moment Oliver saw him, he started running, too.

They collided hard, hard enough to nearly knock them both over (and to hurt, too). Len didn't care. He pulled Oliver against him and Oliver did the same and suddenly nothing else mattered. The whole airport might as well have been empty.

"Oliver," he said again, this time in a whisper. He couldn't say much of anything else. His throat felt raw, and even if he could say more, what was there to say? What did he need to convey that couldn't be better said through his actions?

Oliver dug his fingers into the back of Len's shirt, burying his face into his shoulder. "Welcome home," he whispered back, and his quiet voice washed over Len and made him feel secure, happy, as if he'd finally found his place in the world.

He was home. After all this time, he was home, in Oliver's arms, where he belonged.

It was so good to be home.

"Hey, asshole!" A very displeased Rin threw her whole weight forward again, and again, each jolt just barely moving the two suitcases she lugged behind her. "If you're gonna run off and leave me to carry your shit for you, could you at least not pack your entire fucking wardrobe and a cinder block?!"

Either Len was so lost in whatever he and Oliver were whispering to each other that he didn't hear, or he was intentionally ignoring her. Both thoughts infuriated her.

"You gay-ass motherfuckers! " Unable to do much else, she kept lunging forward, eager to reach them and forcefully hand Len's baggage back over. "It's been three!" Lunge. "Fucking!" Lunge. "Days!" Lunge. "That's not even half of a week! So stop acting like war-torn lovers that have been separated for forty years and help me!"

She got the help she was after, but it didn't come from Len.

Gakupo patted her back, taking the handle of Len's ridiculously heavy suitcase. "We all have our moments, Rin-dono," he said, though amusement was thick in his tone as he strolled on ahead. "Let them have theirs."

Rin just growled, huffing past the lovers and following behind Gakupo and a much-less-subtly amused Gumi (she sounded on the brink of hyperventilation she was laughing so hard). The sooner they could get to the food court and she could eat her frustrations away, the better.

Neither Len nor Oliver noticed them leaving.