Kousagi and Chibiusa returned to the World-Tree. His mission had been accomplished. Only then did John allow himself to return home.
He had become a fireball when he fell from the atmosphere, covered by his armor and by a heat shield from the world he followed the people he swore to protect. But for the first time in a long time, even as the world whirled past him, he knew he was returning home after having succeeded.
Kousagi was safe. Chibiusa was safe. Kotomi was safe.
That was all that mattered.
It took him a day to walk back home. In the time he took in order to leave his world, this had been the closest he could get to the city he inhabited. But the titanium plate armor was impossible to miss, as were the identifying marks of this version of John. The number 117 painted on his breastplate, as was the japanese kanji of luck in his shoulder piece.
He sought for Kousagi and Chibiusa to ensure they were both safe. Neither of their phones were hard to track, and upon ensuring their vitals marked green, he felt at ease.
When he walked through the streets of the town, he immediately stopped upon recognizing another voice.
James.
Just across the street, a familiar man in armor stood in front, golden visor staring at him in surprise, unmoving. Then, as his stance softened, he undid the locks of his helmet. With a hiss of oxygen, he revealed himself.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2020-07-16 04:33 am (UTC)He had become a fireball when he fell from the atmosphere, covered by his armor and by a heat shield from the world he followed the people he swore to protect. But for the first time in a long time, even as the world whirled past him, he knew he was returning home after having succeeded.
Kousagi was safe. Chibiusa was safe. Kotomi was safe.
That was all that mattered.
It took him a day to walk back home. In the time he took in order to leave his world, this had been the closest he could get to the city he inhabited. But the titanium plate armor was impossible to miss, as were the identifying marks of this version of John. The number 117 painted on his breastplate, as was the japanese kanji of luck in his shoulder piece.
He sought for Kousagi and Chibiusa to ensure they were both safe. Neither of their phones were hard to track, and upon ensuring their vitals marked green, he felt at ease.
When he walked through the streets of the town, he immediately stopped upon recognizing another voice.
James.
Just across the street, a familiar man in armor stood in front, golden visor staring at him in surprise, unmoving. Then, as his stance softened, he undid the locks of his helmet. With a hiss of oxygen, he revealed himself.
John.
no subject
Date: 2020-07-16 04:33 am (UTC)