The Dreamer's Disease

6:48 AM
Zhou International Airport

"The plane leaving for Central City, Amestris, is calling its last boarders at: Gate 35. Last boarders for Central City, Amestris, to Gate 35."

His own loud snore woke the boy from his slumber. Groggily, he blinked a couple of times, those half-Xingese blue eyes ridged with exhaustion as a hand went sluggishly to the back of his head. The sea of silvery-grey hair washed over the brown glaze of his tanned skin as he scratched at his scalp for a few moments, before everything froze and his cerulean gaze widened at a panel on the other side of the departures lounge. He scrabbled for a few minutes then finally brought his wrist down in front of him, peeling back his jacket in an attempt to bare his watch. The digitalised red numbers blinked back up at him. 6:49AM. "Fuck!"

Collecting his menagerie of baggage, the boy pulled the old, adorned Amestrian blue jacket around his shoulders and started making his way with a hurried speed to Gate 35, as the PA and the departure boards had dictated. With the cacophony of grouped family trips and launching planes all around him, when the clock struck 6:55 and he seemingly still had another few miles to go before he reached his gate, he broke into a full, unbridled sprint.

Gate 35 could have just as well have been in another airport, province, country, or dimension for all he could tell -- the only departure gate at the end of a lengthy stretch of desolate and seemingly abandoned corridor, it seemed as if everyone else who worked the rest of the decrepit lounges along the way had either disintegrated or just died as of late. But, no, when he made it, panting, and with a sheen of glistening sweat lining his row, the clock still only read 6:59.

...which didn't seem to matter, for all the boarding staff cared.

As he approached, they already began shaking their heads as if to deny him permission. Halfway between disbelief and an inability to care, the boy pushed on anyway, until threats of rousing security to deal with him came. Defeated, he kicked his bags down to one of the benches and slumped down next to it with a sigh. "Fuck," he repeated. Seemed like he'd fallen at the first hurdle with this whole 'journey' thing. The staff kept an eye on him as they started to ready up for the next departure, and the boy turned towards the window as the plane roared off down the crisp, black tarmac of the new runway, before taking flight.

As echoes of its launch faded, another set of hurried footsteps became audible; except this time, from the front of the departure gate, rather than the desk at the back. A girl with blonde hair tied back behind her, and a tan travel coat over her shoulders that had seen better days. Looked like he wasn't the only one that had missed this flight.