Makoto stepped through the gates and pushed her way through the crowd, her hand tightly clutching the messenger bag slung over her shoulder. Being on a plane for fifteen plus hours was not her idea of fun and she was happy to be back on the ground. If people were meant to fly, they'd have wings, she found herself thinking.

She paused in the terminal and looked around at all the people rushing around, greeting loved ones or saying farewell. It felt odd being back in Japan after so many years. She hadn't been here since she was a young child and her father was stationed here. All around her she heard the language she had grown up hearing but hadn't used much herself, especially in her adult years. Not much use for it State side.

"Makoto-chan!"

Makoto turned toward the voice calling her name. She smiled when she saw an older, squat woman, nearing her fifties, waving her arm to get Makoto's attention. She moved through the thinning crowd and hugged the older woman.

"Hey, Aunt Chika," Makoto said as she pulled away. "How ya been?"

"Fine, fine," Chika answered in English, taking pity on Makoto's broken Japanese. "How are you? How was the flight?"

"Long and tedious," Makoto responded. She and Chika made their way to the baggage claim. "I'm so glad to be off that flying box of death."

Chika chuckled. "You are much like your father in that regard. He didn't like flying either."

Makoto found herself smiling, remembering her father. He had been a good man and it had broken her heart when he had died while serving his country. It was how her parents had met, she remembered, when he had been stationed near Tokyo. Her parents met, fell in love and married before he was moved back to the US, taking his new wife with him. Nine months later, the duo became a trio with the arrival of Makoto. Makoto was in her late teens when her father passed and not wanting to uproot Makoto so late in her school year, her mother stayed in the US for her to complete high school before she moved back to Japan. Makoto's life was in the US and so she had decided to stay there. But now...

Her mind wandered to her mother and her mood turned somber. "How is she," Makoto asked softly. "She sugar coats everything when I talk to her."

Her mother's sister nodded in agreement. "She's...okay. Today isn't a bad day." She turned to look at her niece, who seemed to tower over her, having inherited her father's height. "It'll be even better when she sees you."

Makoto smiled as she stopped at the conveyor belt that was cycling luggage around. Seeing her bags, she quickly picked them up and hauled them off and moved back toward her aunt. "Did my stuff get here okay?"

Chika nodded and took one of the suit cases from Makoto, pulling out the handle to pull it along. Makoto did the same with her other bag and the two headed toward the doors of the terminal. "Hai, and your mother has set up the spare room as yours. Your things have been unpacked and arranged."

Makoto grumbled a bit at that but smiled. "I guess I really am home." She grumbled again, rubbing her forehead between her eyes with her palm.

"Still getting your headaches, Makoto-chan," Chika asked softly as they stepped outside.

Makoto nodded but before she could answer, a rumbling shook the ground. People stopped and looked around before going back to their business. "Earthquake," Makoto asked her aunt as they crossed the road to move toward the parking garage.

"Doubtful," Chika answered, guiding Makoto to her car. "It was most likely a youma causing trouble."

"I still find it weird that four young girls battle those things," Makoto said. "And their outfits..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "Not very good against such things."

"And yet you Americans have your own team of under equipped super heroes, running around in spandex suits and helmets with faces like dinosaurs," Chika remarked. Having found her car, she unlocked the trunk and placed Makoto's suit case she had been wheeling around into the back before taking the other from Makoto, as well as her messenger bag.

"Don't forget the giant reptiles in New York," Makoto replied, chuckling as she shut the trunk. She moved to the driver's side of the car, mistaking it for the passenger's side. Her aunt laughed when Makoto realized her mistake and blushed.

"We'll blame it on jet lag," Chika said as Makoto moved around the car.

"Thanks," Makoto grumbled as she climbed into the car.

The drive was silent. Makoto's legs ached to not be cramped up in the car, having already spent over half a day cramped on a plane. But the drive was thankfully shorter than Makoto thought it would be. As Chika pulled into a parking garage, Makoto's mind moved onto her mother. Whatever the reason that brought her here, she was home. And she was determined to make the best of it.