November 14th.
By the time Ryoma and the team step off the plane in Manila, whatever image people might have of fighters arriving sharp and composed fades almost instantly.
They had chosen to depart from Haneda to avoid the long drive out to Narita, convincing themselves it would make the journey easier. But five and a half hours in the air still takes its toll.
The cabin air leaves their throats dry. Their bodies feel heavier, muscles stiff from staying in place too long, joints slow to respond as they forward with the rest of the passengers.
"My shoulder feel like I just went ten rounds?" Aramaki mutters, rotating his shoulders as if trying to loosen something stuck deep inside.
Kenta presses his fingers briefly against his temple before exhaling. "You're lucky it's just your shoulder. My head's still spinning. Feels like the ground's moving slower than it should."
