The Undesired Second Chance

Chapter 1: A Series of Unexpected Events

Jet lag, Axel decided, was the absolute worst feeling.

Well, jet lag after several sleepless days working to wrap up a project, presenting said project, and then immediately taking a plane back home to Germany from the opposite side of the world probably broke his scale and scattered its shattered pieces on the wind, so he had to settle with 'absolute worst'. Not to mention that his tired, short-circuited brain was more likely to fall apart than think up a more eloquent gripe.

He resisted yawning for a grand total of maybe three seconds and then almost fell asleep when his bleary blue eyes briefly blinked shut. Sleep had been in short supply lately. Non-existent during the flight, in fact, since he had been stuck sitting amidst an overeager Japanese tourist group that, apparently, didn't need to sleep. Thus Axel had the dubious honor of spending most of the flight answering a veritable barrage of questions about Europe and Germany and München specifically, asked rapid-fire in a language he was only two steps above familiar with. How the insistent bunch could notice enough about his features to correctly peg him as a German but skim over his obvious exhaustion and attempts to evade conversation was beyond him.

He just couldn't, for the life of him, get them to shut up!

And he had tried. Several times, in fact. Some of his later attempts were almost blatantly rude, but all were unsuccessful.

Looking back, he really should have just pretended that he didn't understand Japanese at all. Shame he hadn't thought of that at the time.

Nothing against the Japanese in general, of course. Axel had just spent the last few months in their country for work, not to mention the time he had spent learning enough to be halfway decent at understanding the language. But right now, looking back on the flight as he stands dizzily sleep deprived at the airport baggage claim amidst an uncomfortably dense crowd and still at least an hour away from the comfort of his own bed, well... he wasn't feeling very charitable.

Yawning again, Axel scrubbed a hand through his short straw-blond hair and tried to rub the sleep from his face. It didn't work. Next time, he promised to himself, don't count on sleeping during a long plane ride. And, since he was thinking about it, probably not a good choice to pull all-nighters right before either. He had no idea why he had ever thought that'd be a good idea.

Readjusting the straps of his backpack and rolling his shoulders had him feeling somewhat more steady on his feet, though it was probably just wishful thinking: the world still seemed to spin when he moved too fast. If he looked as bad as he felt... Well, judging by the condition of his scarf, wrung out and wrinkled after hours of fiddling with it as he talked with the excitable tourists, he probably looked a hair shy of 'walking corpse'. On that note, he eyed a nearby vending machine; perhaps he could buy something caffeinated in an attempt to resurrect his sleep-deprived self.

But no, as much as he wanted another burst of artificial energy, it definitely wouldn't be the best idea. A full 24 hours running on chemicals is already more than enough.

He was broken from his musing when he finally spotted his suitcase round a bend on the baggage carousel, grabbed the closest handle to heave it off, and finally began making his way to the exit.

Axel walked out of the terminal and toward a less packed area of the concourse, looking around and just taking in the fact that he was finally back in München (even if just in its airport). The ceiling arched overhead, mid-afternoon light streaming through its clear glass panels. He basked in it for a moment—and he hoped it was just a moment and he hadn't been standing there like a dunce for minutes on end—before reluctantly turning his attention from the glorious almost-warmth of the sun. In his defense, the past week hadn't left any time to just have a quiet moment.