The Three O'clock Passenger

Ch. 3: Reunion

Though his face remained completely blank, the fear Jotaro felt was almost palpable. He had searched the crowds over and over again, even stopping a few people to ask if they'd seen a man fitting Noriaki's description. Of course, though, no one knew who he was talking about, and a few even seemed to think he was joking when he described such an unusual-looking man.

Jotaro now stood almost completely alone outside the station. The departing passengers had already caught taxis and met the friends and tour guides they had come to meet. Jotaro had backtracked up the street and to the station. 

Now, he had gotten what he wanted: solitude.

A thin sheen of sweat coated his hands and the back of his neck. Square one didn't work... he thought darkly. What came after square one? Square two? That was a logical conclusion, but Jotaro didn't want to accept it, as square two was to succumb to the creations of his anxieties: The possibility of tragic accidents. The questions came back to him, flooding his mind with a shockingly renewed vigor. How had Noriaki died? Was he alone when it happened? Was he scared? In pain? Crying? 

No, he didn't want to believe that something so awful had happened.

Suddenly, Okuyasu's rough voice sounded in Jotaro's head, "Well, what else could have happened?" His hands began to tremble again and his throat tightened. Then, a glint of hope tugged at his conscience, "Tons of other stuff!" It was Josuke who said that before. He generally didn't find the encouragement of others(especially Josuke of all people) very helpful. It usually seemed fake and unnecessary in stressful situations and had never done him any good. But, for some inexplicable reason, Josuke's statement, though initially not intended to be encouragement, gave him something to hold onto to keep his head above the devouring ocean of his trepidation.

He grabbed onto that lifeline and turned away from the street, moving swiftly back to the station. His first plan of action, now, was to find Josuke, Okuyasu, and Koichi. They needed to know that he had to leave them to find Noriaki or at least be alone to hash out more reasonable scenarios.

The brewing in his mind proceeded to eat at him as he reached the front entrance. He stepped into the station only to stop dead mid stride as someone's call broke through the dark pall of his anxieties.

"Jojo!"

There was no preventing his eyes from widening. That voice-- it was unmistakable. The nickname had hardly ever been used by anyone else. The cheerful curve to the syllable couldn't have belonged to any other person. He turned his head and finally locked eyes with the three o'clock passenger.

Noriaki.

The long, singular wave of light red hair that hung against his cheek bobbed as he approached. His face was virtuous, ecstatic, and adorable, the edges of his mouth curved delicately upward. Lively and blissful, his expressive eyes never broke the lock between their gazes until Noriaki was standing right in front of him, his shorter, lean figure complimenting the large, sturdy shape of Jotaro's body.

Noriaki stared up at him, and the only thing Jotaro could do was let the silence draw out. All he wanted was to look at Noriaki's face, admire the sapphire of his pupils, let the fear rush out of him as relief took hold of his heart. 

And, of course, Noriaki let him do just that.

As the silence stretched out, he felt the corners of his lips twitch feebly and the weight of his eyebrows lighten. Noriaki's smile widened and his head tilted slightly. "What's that look for?"

Jotaro said nothing, responding only by quickly pulling him into his arms. Noriaki didn't hesitate to reciprocate the hug, his hands meeting behind Jotaro's back, pulling the two closer than they had been in months. In that moment, when Jotaro could feel Noriaki's warmth, hear his breathing, and smell the familiar scent of his hair, everything in the world felt right. The dread that had been so potent and overwhelming not moments ago had simply vanished as if it had never been there to begin with. He never wanted this feeling to end.