At first, he was worried that she didn't recognize him--that somewhere stuffed in that bustling crowd of people holding signs and bouquets and presents that she was there, her eyes scanning as wildly for his face as she was for hers. That somehow, with the long wavy hair and the oval-shaped glasses, she had overlooked him; that she was still searching for the tall, scrawny boy with the short, spiked-hair and the bottlecap glasses.

But the crowd disappated along with his hopes, leaving Jou standing awkwardly in the middle of the terminal with a large tawny bag on his shoulders and a lump in his throat.

He sunk into a seat eighteen minutes later, mind muddled with thoughts that made him much too uncomfortable.

She hadn't forgotten that he'd be arriving today, had she?

Tension built in his temples.

He hadn't been stood up, had he?

He pressed a hand against his head.

This isn't happening... This ISN'T happening...

"Jou?" A familiar voice tugged Jou from his reverie.

He looked up to find a familiar pair of amber eyes smiling at him. Relief fell over him in waves--relief that he hadn't been stood up after all, that Mimi was here, and that inothing had changed/i, save for his glasses and her hair color.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Jou!"

He stood up, head hung low.

"I got stuck in traffic--and the airport parking lot is just AWFUL and--" Her eyes lit up with sudden realization. "--Your hair! It's--"

The words never made left her lips. Jou wrapped his arms around her suddenly, his head bowed scant inches above her shoulder.

"Mimi," he mummured.

And for one moment, her body was drawn tight with surprise.

But it quickly softened.

Arms folded around his, Mimi drew Jou even closer to her than he had been before.

"Welcome to America, Jou."