Fluorescent lights reflected off polished floors as travelers rushed past in every direction. Announcements blared in Japanese—sharp, melodic, completely unintelligible.

You stood by baggage claim, your suitcase handle clutched in one sweaty hand.

Passengers filtered around you like water around a stone. Families reunited. Businessmen checked phones. A child cried somewhere nearby.

No one was looking for you.

The glass doors slid open and closed, open and closed, each time revealing more strangers. None of them stopped. None of them scanned the crowd with recognition in their eyes.

Your phone buzzed. A text from Mum: You land yet?

Beyond the windows, the Tokyo skyline stretched gray and distant under a pale autumn sky.