Home is the place where you happen to live .
That was always the case for Christina . Wherever she lived, and living was being alone . It was, for lack of a better word, practical . Home was clean, because home never stayed the same for very long . For as long as she could remember she had been on the move . First with her parents moving from job to job like a grazing herd, and then she on her own .
From seventeen to fifty . Three years behind the same door was the longest she could recall being in one place . This small room in a different world was maybe less grand than most of the places she had called home, but it was really no better or worse than most of them .
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Home is where you grow up .
She was born here . Literally . In the bathroom . Kyoko hadn't known any other place than this one . Within walking distance from both school and cram school . Within walking distance from her old middle school, grade school and elementary school . Within walking distance from her entire life .
Home is where you learn to behave as is proper . Where your parents live proper lives . Home is furnished according to your family's status, is of the proper size for a public servant family and is situated where other families of equal status are likely to be found . Home is – proper .
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Home is family .
It doesn't really matter where you live as long as your family is there . Maybe they had moved a couple of times, but the Wakayamas had always stayed together . And they always stood together . Four of them, like the four walls of what others called home .
The latest building that others named their home had seen them playing out their merry antics the last five years . It was, Ryu gloated and Noriko admitted, large . Abundantly so . Both their parents worked, and they were, mildly put, well off .
But this house, or their previous small one, was equally home . Home only when there was family there, because an empty house is a dead thing and not a home .
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Home is a tennis court, with a net in the middle .
That net had separated Yukio's life into two halves for the better part of ten years . Like the ball he was bounced between his parents . One lived close to school, and lately he spent most of his sleeping hours there, but his father lived less than half an hour away with train . Occasionally during school days, and usually during school breaks he lived there .
But never on Fridays . Not for half a year . In a sense that café had become his third home . A neutral zone, like where the umpire sat .
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Home is sharing and safety .
Home is where those you love stay near you . Home is never loss . Home isn't a place you need to leave behind because you can't stand it any longer .
Home is always in the now . Before that time he had known that home had also been a place he could remember from earlier . But after that time home was always a place that belonged to the here and now .
Home is shared with Amaya . Home is two bedrooms and a living room . Home is where he can make her safe . Home is safety, the safety he can buy, the reason he works and the place where, every day, the same two faces will show up before sleep .
Home will one day become where he can see a future . Not today, not tomorrow, but one day .
Chapter end
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