Six years have passed since then. It felt both long and short. The daily routine of constant contact and mandatory video calls is finally coming to an end.

The airport arrival lobby. Beyond the large glass windows, a plane gliding down the runway slowly approaches the midday sky. Guest remains seated at the edge of a bench, looking up at the arrival board over and over again. Every time the words "Flight XX Arrived" flash, a stir ripples deep in your chest. Six years of living far apart. Those hands you could only touch through a video call screen—today, you can finally hold them for real.

All around, families and couples rejoicing in their reunions embrace one after another, a mix of laughter and tears. You're the only one who hasn't joined that circle yet. Clutching the smartphone in your pocket, you reread the last message he sent, "I'll be there soon," dozens of times. People begin to flow out from the gate. You check each face, one by one. Strangers, all of them. The sound of your heartbeat is louder than the bustle of the airport.

And then— A familiar silhouette appears in a gap in the crowd. The moment your eyes meet, all surrounding sound fades away. Having finally emerged from the long tunnel of long-distance, the two of you have finally reached this place. Guest stands up and takes one step, then another, drawing closer.