A week passed faster than anyone expected.
And suddenly—
Lucas' house looked less like a home and more like an airport terminal.
Suitcases were everywhere.
Open ones.
Half-packed ones.
One suspiciously sitting in the middle of the living room with Jasail inside it.
"I'm ready," he announced proudly.
Michael stopped walking.
"…Why are you inside the luggage?"
"So I don't miss the flight."
Lucas laughed.
"That's actually smart."
"It is not smart," Grandma replied sharply, pulling Jasail out by the arm.
"You are not checked baggage."
Jasail looked offended.
"That was rude."
Michael burst into laughter.
It was chaos.
Beautiful chaos.
And for the first time in a long time—
Michael loved every second of it.
He had somehow become the unofficial organizer.
Passport checker.
Ticket holder.
Luggage supervisor.
Emotional support system.
"Grandma—passport?"
"Here."
"Lina—ticket?"
"Here."
"Lucas—"
Lucas handed him a folded shirt.
Michael frowned.
"This is not your ticket."
"I know."
"Then why are you giving me this?"
"Because you'll fold it better."
Michael looked at the shirt.
Then at Lucas.
"You packed this badly on purpose."
Lucas smiled.
"No proof."
Michael shook his head and began folding it properly.
Lucas leaned closer and whispered:
"Can you fold me too?"
Michael froze.
Then blushed so hard that even Grandma noticed.
"What did he say?"
"Nothing!" Michael answered too quickly.
Lucas laughed like a man who had already won.
Nearby, unnoticed by everyone else, Lucas quietly slipped a small box into his luggage.
Carefully.
Secretly.
Then I closed the suitcase.
A private smile touched his lips.
Not yet.
Grandma was having a different crisis.
"This plane," she said seriously, adjusting her glasses, "does it stop midway for food?"
Michael blinked.
"…No."
"So when do we eat?"
"On the plane."
She frowned.
"And can I open the window?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because we'll die."
Jasail gasped dramatically.
"I knew flying was suspicious."
Lina walked in just in time to hear that.
She laughed so hard she had to set her bags down.
Her arrival brought instant warmth.
She looked elegant as always— perfect hair, perfect posture, oversized luggage.
Jasail ran to her immediately.
"AUNTY LINAAA!"
She caught him easily.
"I missed you too."
Then she hugged Michael tightly.
"Are you ready for your moment?"
Michael smiled.
"I think so."
She pulled back and studied him.
"No. You're nervous."
"…A little."
"That's normal."
Lucas stepped in.
"He'll be fine."
Lina looked at him and smiled softly.
Of course he would say that.
No one believed in Michael more than Lucas.
That evening, when things quieted down, Michael sat alone for a moment on the balcony.
Watching the sunset.
Thinking.
One year ago— his life looked completely different.
He was carrying pain.
Confusion.
Distance.
Fear.
Now—
people were packing suitcases to travel across the world for him.
For his graduation.
For his success.
Not because he was in danger.
Not because someone needed saving.
But because they loved him.
That realization hit harder than expected.
His eyes stung.
"You're crying."
Michael turned.
Lucas stood in the doorway.
"I'm not crying."
"You are."
Michael smiled weakly.
"I just… never thought this would happen."
Lucas walked closer.
"What part?"
Michael looked toward the living room— where Grandma was arguing with Jasail, where Lina was laughing loudly, where family existed in a way he never imagined.
"All of it."
Lucas gently squeezed his shoulder.
"You deserve this."
Michael looked at him.
And believed it.
That night, Michael called Grace.
She answered immediately.
"Well look at who remembered his family."
Michael laughed.
"I called yesterday."
"That doesn't count."
"You're impossible."
"I know."
Then her face softened.
"I heard everyone is already packed."
"They are. Jasail tried to pack himself."
Grace laughed loudly.
"That child is dramatic."
"Just like you."
"Excuse me?"
Michael smiled.
Then Grace's expression changed.
"Actually… I have news."
Michael sat straighter.
"What?"
"I'm coming."
He blinked.
"What?"
"I'll be there tomorrow."
"Grace—"
"Mum and Dad still can't travel," she interrupted gently, "but someone has to represent the family."
Michael went quiet.
"You're serious?"
"Very."
His eyes immediately filled.
"You're really coming?"
Grace smiled warmly.
"You're graduating, Michael."
"Of course I'm coming."
He looked away briefly.
Trying to steady himself.
"Thank you."
"Don't cry."
"I'm not crying."
"You definitely are."
They both laughed.
Later, Michael called Daniel.
His old mentor answered quickly.
"Michael."
"Daniel."
"You sound happy."
"I am."
Daniel smiled through the screen.
"Good."
Michael leaned back.
"I'm on my way soon."
"To America?"
"Yes."
"With great people."
Daniel raised an eyebrow.
"Great people?"
Michael smiled.
"Lucas. His family. Lina. Grace is coming too."
Daniel nodded slowly.
"That sounds… beautiful."
"It is."
A pause.
Then Daniel said softly—
"You've built something good, Michael."
Michael felt that deeply.
"Thank you."
Daniel smiled.
"Now go graduate properly."
Michael laughed.
"I'll try."
The next morning—
airport day arrived.
And with it—
absolute disorder.
Grandma almost forgot her passport.
Twice.
Jasail nearly ran toward the wrong gate because he wanted "to see the big planes."
Lina was somehow still answering business calls.
Lucas calmly handled luggage.
Michael handled panic.
At one point he simply stood still and said:
"I understand now why airports break people."
Lucas laughed and slipped his hand into Michael's.
A quiet grounding touch.
"I've got you."
Michael looked at him.
And instantly calmed.
The flight itself was surprisingly peaceful.
Except for takeoff.
The second the plane lifted—
Jasail grabbed Michael's arm.
"Are we dying?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"How sure?"
Lucas secretly filmed the entire thing while laughing.
Lina watched from across the aisle smiling.
Again—
watching Michael and Lucas together felt strangely beautiful.
Real love looked exactly like this: safe. easy. steady.
She found herself thinking about Daniel again.
And smiling.
Hours later—
the plane landed.
America.
Michael stepped out slowly.
His chest tightened.
Home.
But different.
He hadn't returned alone.
He had returned with people who loved him.
People who chose him.
That mattered.
A lot.
They walked toward arrivals.
Grandma adjusted her scarf.
Jasail complained about jet lag.
Lucas stayed close beside him.
Then—
Michael stopped walking.
His eyes widened.
Because standing there—
just beyond the crowd—
was Daniel.
Waiting.
Hands in his coat pockets.
Smiling softly.
Michael froze.
Lucas noticed immediately.
"Michael?"
But Michael could barely speak.
Because Daniel—
had come.
To welcome him home.