Marvelous Journey : A Transmigrator Journey

Shuffle Shuffle

The narrow airplane aisle buzzed with activity as passengers searched for their seats. Arvin shifted his backpack, its weight pulling at his shoulder as he carefully made his way forward.

Thump

(Chinese) "Excuse me," a businessman in a crisp suit squeezed past. Arvin pressed himself against the seats, the cool leather brushing against his arm. Above them, the overhead compartments creaked with steady clicks as travelers arranged their belongings.

(13Y... 13Y...), he counted the row numbers, each step bringing him closer to his assigned seat. When he finally reached his row, he paused, surprise flickering across his face. Three empty seats greeted him.

His ticket crinkled softly as he glanced between it and the window seat. (Master always said to follow rules, but...) The empty window seat beckoned invitingly. After a moment's hesitation, he made his choice, settling into the spot furthest from the aisle.

Jolt

The aircraft shuddered unexpectedly. His fingers instinctively gripped the armrests, heart quickening as reality sank in - he was really leaving China, leaving behind five years of training and the place he thought as his second home.

Crackle Buzz

The intercom crackled to life overhead. A woman's voice delivered safety instructions in Mandarin, the familiar tones washing over him.

(Chinese) "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard East Nation Dragon flight 600D....," the announcement repeated in a foreign language, echoing slightly in the cabin. When she switched to another language, the words became meaningless sounds, flowing past his ears.

Click

His hands trembled slightly as he fastened his seatbelt, the metal buckle cool against his fingers. The solid sound of it locking provided an odd comfort in the unfamiliar environment.

Roar

The engines thundered to life, their vibrations running through the entire aircraft. The force pressed him back as the plane began moving, the terminal sliding past his window. Runway lights streaked by with increasing speed, their glow blurring into continuous lines.

His breath caught as the nose lifted. Buildings below shrank rapidly, becoming mere toys scattered across the landscape. The aircraft banked, offering one final glimpse of the airport where, somewhere down there, his master would still be watching.

(Indonesian) "Goodbye, China. Farewell, Master." The whispered farewell felt strange on his tongue after years of speaking Chinese.

***

Whoosh

The aircraft pierced through the cloud cover, leaving the familiar place behind. Arvin pressed his forehead against the cool window, watching everything he'd known for the past five years disappear beneath the white expanse. His reflection stared back - a young face caught between anticipation and uncertainty.

Ding

The seatbelt sign flickered off. Arvin allowed his muscles to relax, sinking slightly into the seat as he drew in a deep breath. The filtered cabin air carried that distinct airplane scent, triggering memories. (Just like when I first came to China...)

His master's final warning echoed in his thoughts. The weight of responsibility felt heavier than any physical burden he'd carried during training. This knowledge wasn't just techniques - it was power that could help or harm.

Crackle

(Chinese) "Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our cruising altitude," the flight attendant announced, followed by the foreign translation.

Opening his eyes, Arvin gazed at the vast expanse stretching before him. Somewhere beyond that horizon lay Indonesia - his home. Though five years had passed, memories pulled at his heart: family gatherings, his mother's cooking, the comfort of belonging.

Rumble

The engine's steady drone accompanied his thoughts as China's landscape vanished completely beneath the clouds, like a chapter closing gently but firmly. The setting sun painted the sky in shades of gold and pink, reminiscent of countless dawn practices with his master.

(Will everything be the same?), he wondered, watching sunlight play across the clouds. (Can I honor both traditions - my family's art and his teachings?)

A patch of blue sky peeked through the clouds, drawing his attention. For a moment, the view cleared completely, showing the vast distance between heaven and earth. Then the clouds closed again, but Arvin kept watching, lost in thought as the plane carried him toward home.

***

Some time later.

Squeak Squeak

A food cart's wheels drew Arvin's attention from the window. The approaching flight attendant wore a bright red uniform that triggered an unexpected memory - the silk cheongsams from mountain festivals, incense smoke curling through crisp air, monks chanting in the distance.

(Chinese) "Good afternoon, sir! Would you like something from our menu today?" Her cheerful voice pulled him from his reverie.

Arvin blinked, adjusting his focus. (Chinese) "Oh, yes... what do you have available?"

The attendant smiled warmly. (Chinese) "We have quite a selection! For snacks, we have..." She continued listing items, but Arvin's attention sharpened only when she reached the main dishes. (Chinese) "...curry rice, stir-fried vermicelli with shredded meat, and steamed mantou."

Grumble

His stomach voiced its interest, but years of discipline made him cautious. (Chinese) "The dishes sound delicious, but... could you tell me what kind of meat is used?"

(Chinese) "Of course! The curry has pork, and the vermicelli uses duck meat."

Arvin's expression fell slightly. (Chinese) "I see... Would it be possible for you to open the box and check the vermicelli? Just to be sure?"

The attendant blinked in surprise but nodded. (Chinese) "That's an unusual request, but certainly." She opened the package, and immediately Arvin's trained nose caught the familiar scent.

(Pig lard... of course), he thought, masking his disappointment.

(Chinese) "Thank you for checking," he said politely. (Chinese) "I'll just have the mantou, please."

Reaching for his wallet, Arvin started, (Chinese) "How much do I-"

The attendant waved her hands. (Chinese) "Oh no, no! Everything from the cart is included with your ticket. You only pay for special orders."

(Chinese) "Really?" His eyes widened slightly. (Chinese) "I... thank you. I didn't know."

He accepted the steamed buns with both hands, offering a slight bow. The attendant's professional smile softened at his formality.

(Chinese) "You're very welcome," she said warmly. (Chinese) "Would you like some water with that?"

(Chinese) "Yes, please. Thank you for your kindness."

The attendant's eyes crinkled with genuine amusement. (Chinese) "Such polite manners! We don't see that often these days."

Rustle

After she moved on, Arvin carefully unwrapped the mantou. The soft, pillowy buns stirred memories of his grandmother's kitchen. (Her mantou always had that perfect balance...) Taking his first bite, he closed his eyes, letting the familiar comfort food ease his anxiety.

Tap Tap

His fingers drummed lightly against the armrest as he gazed out the window. The endless sea of clouds stretched below, white and gray meeting at the horizon. China was receding with everything familiar, while ahead lay Indonesia - his homeland that now felt strangely foreign.

(Master's words weigh heavily), he thought, remembering their final conversation. The knowledge he carried wasn't just techniques - it was power, responsibility, legacy. Using it wrongly could bring disaster, but taking these secrets to his grave felt equally wrong.

Sigh

Brushing crumbs from his lap, Arvin settled back. Hours remained before landing, before facing whatever his new life would bring. For now, he existed in between - no longer fully belonging to the world he'd left, not yet part of the one ahead.

A patch of blue caught his eye - clear sky peeking through the clouds. The moment passed quickly, swallowed by the endless white above.

Crinkle

The mantou wrapper crackled softly as he reached for another piece. He ate slowly, methodically, eyes fixed on the somber sky while his mind wandered between past and future.