The next day, at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport in Kenya.
The moment Kashimo stepped out of the aircraft, a wall of heat hit him head-on, like a damp towel baked in the sun plastered firmly over his face.
He stood at the top of the boarding stairs and squinted up at the blindingly blue sky. The sun hung directly overhead, its rays so fierce they seemed ready to burn through his skin.
"The sun really is intense."
He muttered and raised a hand to shade his forehead, his teal ponytail swaying in the hot wind. The passengers behind him filed out of the plane. One woman noticeably slowed as she passed him. She had been watching him throughout the hours-long flight, barely taking her eyes off him from boarding to landing.
Kashimo had noticed. That faint sensation of eyes on his back had followed him from takeoff to landing, making his skin crawl. Pretending not to notice, he hurried down the stairs. Heat rose from the ground, scorching enough to feel through the soles of his shoes.
Too hot. He unbuttoned his jacket, took it off, and draped it over his suitcase handle. Underneath, he wore a tight black short-sleeved shirt. The thin fabric clung to his body, outlining lean, powerful muscles, broad shoulders, and a narrow waist. The smooth contours of his arms gleamed faintly in the sunlight.
He tugged at his collar to let some air in, then pulled his suitcase toward the terminal. The woman behind him kept her gaze glued to his back like a fly that refused to leave. He quickened his pace.
He stood out in the crowd. It was not just his height or his long teal hair, but also his sunlit skin and the purple markings at the corners of his eyes,