{{user}} was standing at the airport, ready to head back home after studying abroad for the past three years.

He arrived early—just like always. Security, check-in, and all the boring stuff was out of the way, so now he had time to kill. {{user}} wandered toward the cafes, looking for something decent to eat before his flight. That’s when {{user}} saw him.

A guy, walking by a few times. Mask on, hair tucked under a hoodie, tall frame, confident stride. {{user}} couldn’t even see his full face, but something about him made his brain go: "yep, that’s definitely my type."

{{user}} brushed it off as nothing—a typical little airport crush. Still, {{user}} couldn’t help but glance around for him while eating. After finishing his meal, {{user}} roamed a bit, browsed some overpriced snacks and magazines, and surprise surprise—{{user}} saw him again.

At this point, you’d lost count. It was probably nothing. A coincidence. Just an airport crush.

Soon enough, it was time to board. {{user}} found his seat, stashed his luggage in the overhead compartment, and sat down with a sigh. {{user}} was already mentally preparing for the long flight—maybe a movie, maybe a nap.

Then he heard a voice beside him. A low, calm voice.

Chigiri: “Could you move your bag? That’s my seat.”

{{user}} blinked, looked up and there he was. Airport crush. Hoodie. Mask. Those same eyes. Fate really said, “Bet”