*December 6th - 7:00 AM Central Time*
Haruki's apartment looked like a tornado had collided with an academic conference and a travel supply store. Clothes were sorted into neat piles that Noa had organized by climate zone and presentation formality, while research materials covered every available surface in what Sana had assured them was a "logical filing system" that only looked like chaos to untrained eyes.
"We leave in two days," Noa announced from her position on the floor, where she was attempting to fit six weeks' worth of carefully selected outfits into a suitcase designed for normal human travel. "Two days, and I still can't figure out how to pack for Boston winter and Los Angeles spring in the same luggage."
"Layer strategically and embrace the concept of doing laundry," Haruki suggested, stepping carefully around the clothing obstacle course she'd created. "Also, most hotels have washing machines."
"Most hotels have expensive washing machines that will shrink my favorite sweater and turn my white shirts pink."
"Then pack fewer clothes and buy replacements as needed. We're making actual money on this tour."
"I can't just buy new clothes every time we change climate zones. That's wasteful and impractical and—"
"And you're stress-packing because you're nervous about leaving Chicago," Haruki interrupted gently. "Which is understandable, but you don't need to solve every potential wardrobe crisis before we get on the plane."
Noa paused in her battle with a particularly stubborn zipper and looked up at him with the expression of someone who'd been caught engaging in displacement anxiety.
"I'm not stress-packing."
"You're stress-packing. Yesterday you reorganized your research notes three times and labeled every cable in your electronics bag."
"Organization is important for successful travel."
"Organization is important. Obsessive preparation is a coping mechanism for travel anxiety."
Before Noa could argue, Haruki's apartment door opened without warning, and Sana entered carrying what appeared to be a mobile command center disguised as travel luggage.
"I brought backup chargers, portable wifi, noise-canceling headphones, motion sickness remedies, emergency snacks, first aid supplies, and a comprehensive guidebook for every city on our itinerary," she announced, setting down her collection of perfectly organized travel accessories. "Also, I may have printed out detailed maps of every university campus we're visiting because I don't trust GPS navigation in unfamiliar academic environments."
"Please tell me you have room for clothes in there somewhere," Noa said, looking at Sana's impressive array of travel gear.
"I packed efficiently. Two weeks of mix-and-match outfits, plus one formal presentation outfit and one emergency backup for each climate zone."
"How did you fit all that plus your mobile electronics store into standard luggage?"
"Compression packing cubes and strategic layering. Also, I may have bought slightly larger suitcases than recommended for normal travel."
Haruki surveyed the chaos of his apartment—Noa's clothing explosion, Sana's technology arsenal, and his own modest pile of academic essentials—and felt the familiar mixture of excitement and terror that had characterized their entire tour planning process.
"Are we ready for this?" he asked, not entirely sure he wanted to know the answer.
"Define ready," Sana said, pulling out her phone to check what appeared to be a comprehensive pre-departure checklist. "If ready means we have appropriate clothing, necessary technology, research materials, travel documents, and emergency supplies, then yes, we're ready."
"If ready means we're emotionally and psychologically prepared for six weeks of intensive travel, constant public attention, and potential relationship challenges, then probably not," Noa added, finally admitting defeat in her battle with the overstuffed suitcase.
"But nobody's ever really ready for something like this," Haruki said. "The question is whether we're as prepared as we can reasonably be."
"I think we are," Sana said, consulting her checklist again. "We have clear agreements about accommodation and decision-making, backup plans for various disaster scenarios, and communication strategies for handling conflicts."
"Plus we've practiced our presentations until we could give them in our sleep," Noa added.
"And we've researched every university, planned our travel routes, and identified potential collaboration opportunities at each stop," Haruki continued.
"So we're as ready as three people can be for an academic tour that's either going to launch our careers or provide material for a very entertaining disaster memoir," Sana concluded.
"That's... actually reassuring," Noa said.
"Good, because Dr. Richardson just texted to confirm our flight details, and we need to be at the airport by 6 AM tomorrow."
"6 AM?" Noa looked horrified. "Who schedules flights at 6 AM?"
"People who want to arrive in Boston with enough time to recover from travel fatigue before presenting groundbreaking research to Harvard faculty," Sana replied pragmatically.
"I hate morning flights."
"You hate all flights," Haruki pointed out. "Morning flights just give you less time to work yourself into a panic about flying."
"I don't panic about flying. I have rational concerns about hurtling through the atmosphere in metal tubes powered by controlled explosions."
"That's literally the definition of flight anxiety."
"That's the definition of logical risk assessment."
Sana looked between them with the expression of someone watching a familiar dynamic play out. "Should I be concerned about travel compatibility issues?"
"No," they said simultaneously, then looked at each other and started laughing.
"We bicker when we're nervous," Haruki explained. "It's how we process anxiety together."
"It's also how we avoid dealing with the actual source of our nervousness," Noa added.
"Which is?"
"The fact that tomorrow we get on a plane to Boston and start the biggest professional adventure of our lives," Haruki said.
"And we have no idea if we're actually qualified for the level of attention and responsibility we're about to take on," Noa continued.
"But we're going to do it anyway because the opportunity is too good to pass up and we trust each other enough to handle whatever challenges come up," Sana finished.
"Exactly."
"Well, when you put it like that, it sounds almost reasonable," Sana said.
"Almost reasonable is the best we can hope for at this point."
Haruki's phone buzzed with a call from Dr. Patel, and he answered it with the slight apprehension that had become automatic whenever his advisor called during non-business hours.
"Hi, Dr. Patel. Is everything okay?"
"Everything's fine, Haruki. I just wanted to check in before you leave tomorrow and make sure you're feeling prepared for the tour."
"As prepared as we can be, I think. We've practiced our presentations, planned our travel logistics, and established ground rules for working together."
"Good. And how are you feeling about the level of attention this tour is likely to generate?"
"Nervous but excited. We know it's going to be intense, but we think we can handle it."
"I'm sure you can. But I want you to remember that you can always reach out if you need advice or support. This tour is a wonderful opportunity, but it's also a lot of pressure for graduate students."
"We appreciate that. Actually, can I put you on speaker? Noa and Sana are here, and I think they'd benefit from hearing your perspective."
"Of course."
Haruki switched to speaker phone, and Dr. Patel's voice filled the chaotic apartment.
"Hello, Noa and Sana. How are you feeling about tomorrow?"
"Excited and terrified in approximately equal measure," Noa replied honestly.
"That sounds about right for an opportunity this significant. Sana, how are you handling the prospect of presenting your computational research to major linguistics programs?"
"I'm trying to focus on the research value rather than the prestige factor," Sana said. "The data is solid, and the collaboration potential is genuine, so I'm hoping that will carry me through any presentation anxiety."
"That's a good approach. Can I offer some advice from someone who's watched many graduate students navigate sudden academic attention?"
"Please," all three said simultaneously.
"Remember that you were invited on this tour because your research is valuable and your perspectives are needed. You're not imposters who somehow tricked your way into these opportunities—you've earned them through good work and genuine insights."
"That's helpful to hear," Haruki said.
"Also, remember that even prestigious universities are filled with normal people who are genuinely interested in learning about your research. They're not looking for reasons to dismiss or criticize you—they want to understand what you've discovered and how it might inform their own work."
"What if we make mistakes or don't know answers to their questions?" Noa asked.
"Then you acknowledge what you don't know and offer to follow up with additional information. Academic honesty is more impressive than false confidence."
"And if we get overwhelmed or need to take breaks?"
"Then you take breaks. This tour is a marathon, not a sprint, and maintaining your well-being is more important than perfect performance at every stop."
"Thank you," Sana said. "That actually makes me feel much more confident about the whole thing."
"Good. You three have built something remarkable together, and this tour is just the next step in sharing that work with the broader academic community. Trust your research, trust each other, and remember to enjoy the experience."
After Dr. Patel hung up, the apartment felt somehow less chaotic, despite the continued presence of travel preparations covering every surface.
"I feel better," Noa announced, returning to her suitcase with renewed determination. "Not about the packing situation, which remains a disaster, but about our ability to handle whatever happens on this tour."
"Me too," Sana said. "Dr. Patel's right—we earned these opportunities through good work, not luck or connections."
"And we have each other for support when things get challenging," Haruki added.
"Speaking of support," Noa said, finally achieving victory over her suitcase zipper, "we should probably establish some kind of check-in system for the tour. Regular times to discuss how things are going and address any issues before they become problems."
"Good idea. What did you have in mind?"
"Maybe brief team meetings every few days? Nothing formal, just time to share how we're feeling and make any necessary adjustments to our plans or arrangements."
"I like that," Sana said. "Structure helps me manage social anxiety, so having predictable check-in times would be reassuring."
"Then it's settled. Regular check-ins, honest communication, and the understanding that we can modify our approach if something isn't working."
"Are we really doing this?" Haruki asked, looking around at their travel preparations and feeling the reality of their impending departure sink in.
"We're really doing this," Noa confirmed, standing up from her successful packing victory with the expression of someone who'd made peace with uncertainty.
"Tomorrow we get on a plane to Boston and start the academic adventure of our lives," Sana added, her excitement finally outweighing her nervousness.
"And in six weeks, we'll either be established as rising stars in relationship psychology, or we'll have very interesting stories about the time we thought we were qualified for a national academic tour."
"Either way, it's going to be memorable."
"Either way, we're going to handle it together."
As they finished their final preparations and confirmed their morning logistics, all three felt ready—not for every challenge they might face, but for the adventure of facing those challenges together. Their research had started with careful documentation of relationship development under pressure.
Tomorrow, they would begin the most comprehensive test of that research they'd ever attempted: six weeks of travel, presentations, and public attention that would either validate everything they'd learned about building strong partnerships, or teach them new lessons about resilience under pressure.
The critical period hypothesis was about to meet the real world in the most dramatic way possible.
And they were as ready as they'd ever be.
---
*End of Chapter 18*