The Boy With The Guitar

I steadily walked toward the exit through the sliding glass doors, my footsteps

calm against the polished floor. The noise of the airport slowly faded into the

background as streams of people continued flowing around me like restless

rivers searching for their destinations. Warm sunlight spilled through the

entrance ahead, wrapping the terminal in a golden haze that made everything

feel distant and dreamlike.

And then, suddenly, someone caught my attention.

Perhaps it was because he was walking in the same direction as I was,

weaving through the crowd with familiar movements that awakened

something inside me before my mind could even recognize him. A tall, thin

man stood near the entrance, his figure illuminated softly beneath the

afternoon light.

For a moment, time stopped.

“Kenji… It’s Ken.”

My heart began racing violently against my chest. The steady rhythm of my

footsteps broke apart as I started walking faster and faster toward him,

almost afraid that if I blinked, he would disappear back into the sea of

strangers surrounding us.

There he was.

Tall and lean, yet carrying a quiet strength within his figure. His even-toned

skin glowed warmly beneath the sunlight pouring through the terminal

windows, while a soft gloss shimmered within his dark blue eyes ,an

expression overflowing with affection and excitement he could no longer hide.

There was something delicate about his gestures, something careful and

composed, as though he was the kind of person capable of holding even the

most fragile things without ever letting them break.

This was my brother, Kenji.

We called him Ken.

One of the few people in this world truly dear to me.

Life is full of endless “Nice to meet you” and painful “Goodbye.” People drift

into your life only to disappear again like passing trains vanishing into distant

stations. But among all those temporary encounters, there are a few rare

souls whose absence leaves an ache no amount of time can erase.

Ken was one of them.

And standing there before me now, after years apart, I realized how deeply I

had missed him.

The emotions I had carefully buried throughout the journey suddenly rose to

the surface all at once. I could no longer hold back the tears gathering

painfully behind my eyes. They spilled forward like rivers overflowing their

banks , rivers made of love, happiness, longing, and the lingering pain of our

last goodbye.

Without thinking, I ran toward him.

The airport around me disappeared completely. The announcements overhead

faded. The rolling suitcases, crowded terminals, and rushing strangers

dissolved into nothingness as I finally reached him.

And then I was in his arms.

The warmth of that embrace shattered years of distance in a single moment.

Every memory I had of him returned all at once , fragments of laughter, late-

night conversations, shared silences, old arguments, and the comfort of

simply knowing he existed somewhere in the world beside me.

I buried those memories deep within his embrace, clinging to him as though I

were afraid time would steal him away again.

There was a strange taste to the feeling swelling inside my chest. Sweet, yet

painfully bitter at the same time. A feeling too overwhelming and complicated

to be explained through mere words alone. It was the ache of reunion after

separation. The kind of emotion that could only exist between people who

truly belonged within each other’s lives.

And for the first time in years, I finally felt like I had arrived somewhere that

mattered.

POV: Ken

Time truly flies.

Standing there inside the crowded airport terminal, I realized how terrifyingly

fast the years had disappeared. So much had changed between us during that

time, yet strangely, not everything felt different. Some things remained

untouched by distance, preserved quietly somewhere beyond time itself.

I never noticed how quickly four years had passed.

Four entire years since I had last seen my little brother, Florian Axel.

The moment I spotted him within the ocean of moving crowds, my chest

tightened unexpectedly. For a second, my mind searched for the image I still

carried of him , a much smaller boy trailing behind me with curious eyes and

messy hair, always lost in his own thoughts.

But that image no longer existed.

Instead, walking toward me now was an eighteen-year-old boy.

Tall and thin.

Dark brown hair falling softly around tired eyes of the same color. A guitar

rested against his back while his gaze wandered absentmindedly through the

terminal, as though he were trapped somewhere deep inside his own thoughts

even while walking forward.

And yet… despite how much he had grown, I still recognized him immediately.

The innocence within his eyes remained unchanged.

So did the gentleness in the way he carried himself.

There was something quiet about Florian , a calmness hidden beneath layers

of diffidence and humility. He had always been like that. The kind of person

who rarely demanded attention, yet somehow stayed unforgettable to those

who truly knew him.

For a brief moment, I simply stood there watching him.

Then suddenly, his eyes met mine.

I watched realization bloom across his face almost instantly. His expression

shifted so quickly ,surprise turning into disbelief, disbelief melting into

overwhelming emotion. His steady walk became hurried steps, and before I

could even react properly, he was already running toward me through the

crowded terminal.

It made my chest ache.

Because in that moment, I understood something painfully simple:

He had truly missed me.

And the truth was… I had missed him just as much.

The second he threw himself into my arms, years of distance collapsed

between us effortlessly. I could feel him trembling slightly as he held onto me,

trying desperately to contain emotions that were already spilling over. His

tears stained my shoulder while he buried his face against me, and all I could

do was hold him tighter.

No words felt necessary.

Sometimes reunion itself becomes a language.

As I wrapped my arms around my younger brother, surrounded by the endless

movement of strangers and departures around us, I realized that despite

everything life had taken away over the years, it had still returned something

precious back to me.

And for that single moment beneath the bright airport lights, the world felt

whole again.

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