“— I can’t wait to see you.”

While his consciousness began to return, Barrett heard those words echoing in the vast empty space within his sleep-addled mind. Tiny circles danced along the backside of his eyelids with looping lines and unrecognizable figures  leaving the impression of light somewhere beyond his dozing body. He breathed in deeply, expecting sweetness to settle on his tongue from the words circling around his head. But the bitterness of stale air spurred him into a small coughing fit, doubling over with a groan.

His left palm ached from the constant rubbing of the duffle bag’s strap against his skin, and the weight of it reminded him just where he was. He checked over the compartments to ensure they were still secured, and the warding spells he’d placed on the zippers hadn’t been broken.  

I shouldn’t have fallen asleep here, he thought. Anything could have happened and — 

His thoughts were interrupted by the automated voice in his headphones playing out a gentle chime before asking whether he would like the message to be repeated. A frown dipped at the corner of his lips as he reached for his headphones, lifting the cups from his sweat-warmed skin. Fuzzy murmurs gradually became clearer once his ears popped, and he could hear a concerned voice calling aside him, “ — Sir, are you alright?”

With his crooked arm resting on his knee, Barrett’s head swayed as he tipped it back to meet the eye of a young flight attendant. The young woman sighed with relief and stepped back  with a sweep of her hand toward the empty aisle. “Everyone has already disembarked. Will you be needing assistance?”

Barrett looked over his shoulders despite the protesting crick in his neck. His mouth fell open at the emptied rows, a gasp turning to a sigh as he stood up at an awkward angle to avoid knocking his head against the baggage cubbies. “That won’t be necessary,” Barrett said to her in passing, sliding past the seat neighboring his to step out onto the aisle. 

He hiked up his duffle bag on his shoulder, ignoring the pressure of the attendant’s gaze as she followed behind him while he walked toward the cabin doors. Yet, the air felt thick with unease and Barrett wondered when the next shoe would drop until he heard a hesitant “Sir…?” 

The urge to ignore the call as if he hadn’t heard her at all was at war with the floaty feeling of waking from a pleasant nap. Remembering the voice playing from the recording did something to allay his foul mood at still being within an airplane, and softened his features as he turned around to look at her. The attendant searched his face anxiously, gathering her nerve quicker than Barrett thought she might have if met with a scowl. 

“If I might ask,” she said, leaning closer then hesitating when sparing a glance toward the cockpit doors. Barrett leant down slightly to accommodate her, offering her his ear as she whispered, “Would you happen to be a Hunter?”

Barrett pulled back slightly to look at her as she withdrew with her hands pressed tightly to her chest. The eagerness in her gaze left him to wonder if Hunters were a particularly rare occurrence in these parts. He thumbed the strap of his bag, glancing back toward the stairs leading down from the airplane’s doors. Motioning with a slight nod for her to follow him, he turned back toward the promise of fresh air and an open sky then followed it out into the crisp coolness of fall. He could hear the attendant behind him, calling out to the pilots that she would be disembarking and hastily tugging her luggage behind to follow him down.

Once her harried steps settled into a tic-tap with his hardier bootfalls, Barrett slowed his strides.  

“What gave it away?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck with a disgruntled look at his watch. 

“You were holding onto your bag belongings throughout the trip,” she began, quickly waving her hands around when Barrett turned a dubious look over his shoulder.  Flustered, she added, “which isn’t particularly unusual!”

Barrett tucked his hands in his pockets, focusing on keeping one foot in front of the other as he turned his gaze ahead. Pretending to ignore the attendant’s sigh, he mulled over the cost of being unconscious around so many people. However, with the time difference being  about three hours from where he lived — used to live, he reminded himself — eventually, the lack of sleep would catch up to him. 

It was better to have rested somewhat rather than keel over the moment he arrived. 

“Were there any passengers with a mana-sensitivity disorder near me?” He asked, turning around to face her when they’d reached the bottommost step. 

Her widened eyes and conflicted glance aside told him more than what she said aloud. “I don’t believe I can share the private information concerning another passenger. However, if you are experiencing unconscious mana leaks, I would suggest you see a physician.” 

Barrett tried not to let his displeasure show on his face at the suggestion but the attendant seemed to realize the impact of her words, and ducked her head in a bow. His heart lurched as he hesitantly reached for her shoulder then thought better of it. 

“It’s alright. I just don’t do well with hospitals,” he said, setting his hands on his hips and turning his face away when she raised her head. He didn’t want to see the look that would undoubtedly come, digging his fingers into his waistline to force the words out. “Finding an affordable physician capable of reading meridians is out of my hands, sadly.”

Against his better judgment, he hazarded a glance at her and agitation prickled in his chest from the pity in her eyes. He sighed harshly, scrubbing a hand through his hair before turning around to take the last step off. 

“Anyway, don’t worry about it,” Barrett waved a hand dismissively, the other twisting tightly in the strap of his bag. “I won’t be leaving this area for a while yet, so no one will have to suffer a potential deviation from being near me.”

As he strode ahead, he wondered whether he should have driven instead or taken a train. It would have been longer and the idea of being in such close proximity with others was nerve-wracking to say the least. If she was right, then who knew what havoc he could have wrought while he was unconscious?

Something pinched the back of his flannel’s sleeve, and gave a tug that faltered the next step Barrett posed to take. He stumbled backward slightly, then looked over his shoulder at the flustered attendant who stared up at him with damp eyes. His fingers twitched then curled into a fist as he willed himself not to snap his arm out of her hold. The pang of adrenaline rushing through him settled confusedly as she breathlessly asked, “Did you sleep well, sir?”

Barrett’s mouth fell open with a soft, “Huh?”

Her suitcase wobbled as she let it go, gesticulating with wide and wild gestures as she talked. It certainly made it difficult for him to look anywhere but at her.  He watched her hands gesture between him to the sky, then herself as she spoke. “Your symptoms began to disappear once we took off, assumingly due to a precaution on your part. I deemed your presence as a non-issue and regularly came back to check on you to ensure you were doing well.”

The prickling agitation mellowed out into a deflating, airy sensation. Unsure what to do without the upset weighing on his chest, Barrett breathed out an awkward,  “Oh,” then stumbled into a “Thanks… I’m sorry for the tro—”

The young woman butted in, taking a step closer and Barrett took a step back when he realized just how tall she was. While they were standing on opposing steps and in the cabin, he hadn’t thought much of it but having to crane his neck to look up at someone bearing closely down upon him was startling. She clutched her hands tightly to her chest again, huffing through her nose as she asked,  “That being said, I would like to know as a practicing physician . Did you sleep well during your flight?”

Dazedly, Barrett muttered, “Yes ma’am, thank you.” 

They stood in silence for a moment before Barrett cupped his hand against his ear, smoothing his fingers through his twists as he cocked his head to the side. “You’re pretty intense about your job, aren’t you?”

“Huh?” The focus in her eyes faded, replaced by a sheepish smile as she took a half-step back. She poked her fingertips together, glancing down with a darting gaze between him and the ground.  “W-Well, just a little. I’m sorry if I came on too strongly, uhm…”

Barrett dropped his hand with a huff through his mouth, then offered it to her. “The name’s Barrett,” he tipped his head down to better meet her eyes from a different angle. “What’s your name, Ms. Physician in Practice?”

Behind her yellow heart-shaped frames, bright brown eyes met hesitantly then danced with joy when she laid her hand in his with a hearty shake. “Izidora,” she said, smiling warmly. Barrett’s lips parted in awe at the sight of it, because in the shade of the airplane looming over them, it was as though the sun had come out and shone on him alone. 

“Call me Izzy."