The Waiting Game [RP]

[初音ミクオ☆彡]

If there was one thing Hatsune Mikuo hated, it was waiting. Just the very thought of it made him shiver in anxiety. 

So why was Mikuo in a crowded airport, isolated in a dirty corner, sputtering colorful curses every thirty seconds? 

Because he was waiting for his fucking flight. 

Playing with the lighter in his pocket, Mikuo concentrated hard on the flight board that listed times for boarding passengers. It was weird, he mused, how everyone seemed to be alright with the flight cancellations that were happening every two minutes. He, on the other hand, couldn't wait to be home. 

Home.

Mikuo sighed, rethinking when he had left Japan in the first place. It had been a few months since he had left home, living in the states with his wealthy grandmother. He hadn't wanted to leave, but there was something nagging him in the bottom of his stomach.  There was definitely something in Japan waiting for Mikuo to discover it. There was a reason he had to go back.

He just didn't know what. 

Clenching the lighter, MIkuo realized he needed a smoke, and badly. He looked around, noticing how the crowd of pedistrians had increased the number of security guards to influence the rules of the airport. He groaned in annoyance, as because of this stupid flight, he couldn't sneak a cigarette under his hands like he would always do. 

"I need to fucking get on a plane, or so help me I'll kill someone..." he muttered to no one in particular. 

[mokachahanrp]

Cries of anguish and loud swearing became a common sound within the airport as more and more flights were announced to become delayed. The area was laden with exhaustion, disappointment, and frustration.

Yuuma quietly leaned against a wall by the corner, slowly chewing a piece of gum, already losing flavor and beginning to feel tough between his teeth. He had been waiting for hours, his joints painfully stiff and muscles aching.

It was funny--most Japanese rarely left their country and Yuuma fit the description. He was terrified on his trip out of Japan, but the power of the plane gained his trust. Now on his preparation for a trip back, planes were rapidly letting him down.

There was nothing to do except wait. There was no sense in getting angry, seeing as that wouldn't change whether or not the plane would arrive.

Although soon Yuuma was beginning to hope that was the case as a voice from one who didn't quite share his view spoke from his right.

"I need to fucking get on a plane, or so help me I'll kill someone..."

Seeing as not many others were close to this angry teal-haired individual, Yuuma discretely took a step to the left.

[初音ミクオ☆彡]

Mikuo continued to play distractedly with the lighter in his pocket, when he felt a presence he hadn't noticed before become a bit closer. He raised his head to nonchalantly look at the specific person who seemed to hear his earlier statement. 

He blinked. Teal hair wasn't at all common, so for someone else to have pink hair should have been relieving towards the young teal-head. The pink-haired man also seemed a bit young, somewhere around his age. 

Despite these similarities, all this made Mikuo feel uncertain about whether or not if he should continue to reside in his corner of the airport. 

Would it be wise to move? I mean, he's truly not doing anything, and I don't really have anywhere else to go-

"MAMA!"

Mikuo watched in horror as he watched a young girl vomit into her mother's arms as she was crying in anxiety. Everyone around the mother had been in contact with a bit of the young girl's vomit, and began to conflict with the mother of the girl. This caused a commotion that seemingly spread throughout the airport, making the spacious room seemingly ten times more louder than before. 

Hell no, I'm not moving. 

It had seemed his corner and the rest of the people waiting around him were the only ones in the airport who hadn't started to fuss with one another, so Mikuo took it as a good sign. Turning his head to the pink-haired individual, he reluctantly spoke.

"Um, do you have the time?"