THE LONG WAY HOME

The departure board at Incheon International Airport blinked steadily, cold and indifferent to the torrent of emotions that churned in Lunara's chest. She stood surrounded by her closest friends, professors, and her ever-chaotic roommate Hana, who was squeezing her tight as if letting go would break the spell of their years together.

"You sure you want to leave? South Korea won't be the same without you," Hana sniffled, her voice barely a whisper over the soft hum of boarding announcements.

Lunara tried to smile through her tears, but it felt like trying to hold back the ocean with cupped hands. "I'll miss you all. So much," she choked, her words tumbling out between sobs.

Professor Min patted her shoulder gently, eyes misty but proud. "You came here a scared girl, and now you leave as Dr. Lunara. You’ve honored every ounce of potential we saw in you."

Lunara's chest tightened. These people had been her family in a land once foreign, her silent cheerleaders through lonely winters and exam-ridden nights. She hugged each of them fiercely, storing their warmth like sunshine in her bones.

As she stepped away, pulling her suitcase toward the departure gate, her legs felt heavy. Tears blurred her vision. She didn’t look back, afraid she’d run back into their arms if she did.

Once seated on the flight, the silence settled. Her fingers gripped the armrest as the plane took off. She stared out the window, watching the lights of Seoul twinkle one last time beneath the clouds.

Thirteen hours to go.

She thought of home. Of the narrow streets of her neighborhood. Of her father Malcolm’s quiet strength, her mother Mira’s gentle scolding, and Lyra—her whirlwind of a sister. Would they cry? Would they laugh? Would her mother scold her for not warning them?

A grin tugged at her lips. The diamond ring hidden deep in her luggage gleamed like a secret. But Elias would have to wait. First came her family.

The journey home was long and winding. Bus transfers, sleepy towns blinking past, the sun rising over familiar trees. Her heart galloped in her chest.

She reached her hometown just after noon. The smell of the earth, the hum of familiar life—it wrapped around her like a childhood blanket.

Standing in front of her old gate, her hands trembled. She had flowers in one hand, her degrees tucked in a leather envelope, and a dozen rehearsed lines echoing in her head. Before she could knock, the door creaked open.

Her mother stood there, wide-eyed and speechless.

"Amma... I'm home," Lunara whispered.

Mira screamed—half joy, half disbelief—and pulled her into a crushing hug. Malcolm came running, and Lyra burst from the house shrieking, wrapping herself around her sister’s neck.

They wept. They laughed. They shouted at her for keeping it a secret, then hugged her again as if they’d lose her all over.

That night, Lunara lay between her parents and her sister, all cramped into her childhood bed, the ceiling fan creaking above. She closed her eyes, tears slipping down her cheeks—but this time, they weren’t of sadness.

One more person left to surprise, she thought, holding the box with the ring tight to her chest.

Tomorrow would be his day.

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