The edges of the picture were worn down to a soft crinkle, and a bend around the left upper corner made the hand writing on the back difficult to read.

But he knew them by heart. He had repeated them to himself every night as he went to sleep. She had ended each email and letter with the same phrase.

'Come home.'

And oh how he had wanted to.

Hitomi had never been one to demand any thing, so the words had surprised Van the first time she had sent him an email a week after his departure. But soon they had become the only thing he could really cling to.

They weren't a suggestion, but an order. And Van would do anything she told him to.

A cough came from the aisle seat, and Van opened one wine red eye to stare at the only person brave enough to bother him.

Allen grinned cockily at him through tired blue eyes. "I see you're ready to get home, Fanel."

Van raised a brow as he followed his friend line of sight to…

Coughing quietly, the young man crossed his legs as quickly as possible, his tanned face turning a gentle shade of pink. He shut his eyes once again to regain his composure.

"Shut up, Blondy."

Allen chuckled, and reached for the picture jutting out of the boy's pocket before Van could say anything.

"Hey! Give it back!"

But the blonde was already holding the battered paper, and Van refused to let it be ripped by his pulling on it. It felt just like they were back in high school.

Allen's thumb covered the bottom half of the frame, but Hitomi's face was beaming up at him, her eyes shinning as brightly as her smile. The older man moved his hand to look at the whole image, and whistled quietly.

"The draft really did pull you away from a lot, didn't it?" He brandished the photo gently, "She looks really happy. Eries and I haven't seen her since this was taken. A lot has happened since then."

Van nodded, a gentle smile creeping onto his face. "Yeah, she told me a week after the wedding. I was in training camp."

His friend spent a moment looking at the picture, playing with the edges before flipping it over and squinting at the muddled print. He finally seemed to decipher it, and a grin broke out across his face. Allen flipped he picture over again to take a final glance before offering t back to Van.

The boy looked more homesick than any of the rest of the soldiers on the plane and he knew exactly why.

"Well, she looks good. We'll have to have a celebration later, alright? My little Queeny will kill me if we don't. She wants you all to meet Marlene."

Van nodded and watched as Allen settled back into his seat, pulling on a set of headphones to watch the rest of whatever movie was playing.

It hit him how absurd Allen's cheerfulness was. He had a wife and kid back home, and the blonde man seemed like he couldn't care less where they were going, any sign of the homeward bound soldier covered up with a cheeky smile and slightly tired blue eyes.

But Van knew, though it had taken his long-term friendship with the older man for him to find the hints, that Allen was probably the most ready to be home as any.

It was no wonder why. Van felt the same thing as he looked down at the picture in his hand.

Hitomi starred at him, looking so happy that his heart swelled. She was in a long white dress, the fabric smooth as it billowed slightly around her legs as a sea breeze blew over the cliff behind her. The light green and blue embroidery on the wedding dress matched her eyes and caught the sunset that edged over the ocean. A bouquet of blood red and white roses was gripped in her hands.

And he understood why Allen could hide it so well. What was the point of worrying, of missing what you knew would always be there. He would see Hitomi soon; he would be able to hear her voice, brush honey colored hair from emerald eyes.

He was on the road home.

The terminal was crowded with people: crying mothers and wives, silent children that bounced with excitement, fathers and brothers with tearful grins as they waited.

None of them had green eyes.

"Daddy!"

Van glanced to his left and watched as a blonde girl around the age of four raced into Allen's awaiting arms; blue-green eyes happy and giggling. Eries followed: a quiet grin in place as she gave her husband a discreet kiss on the lips. He looked away as he noticed the normally indifferent women trying to hide her tears.

He said goodbye to the people that waved to him, smiling as he watched most of them walk away with young children in their arms. Allen patted his back and introduced his daughter, though Van had already known her name.

Marlene. That name bought back a lot of memories for them all.

Allen and his small family left just as quietly as they come, with little fuss and promises of a celebration party with all their old friends. Celena would even be there, fresh from therapy.

The crowds had thinned, most heading to pick up their luggage. He turned to stare back down the terminal, thinking for a moment.

"Daa!"

The voice was new, but oddly familiar. Van turned and almost fell as a small body rushed into his knees, squeezing them.

After a moment of catching his balance, the young man looked down to see who was holding his shins and feet hostage.

And all he could see was coal black hair framing familiar emerald eyes on a pale, pudgy face.

"Folken, what did I tell you about running off like that?"

Van looked up to the soft voiced speaker, and grinned as Hitomi smiled up at him. She hadn't changed much, though she seemed to have filled out healthily after having their son.

"Sorry Mom."

But the boy didn't let go. Van grinned and picked up the boy, holding the now two-year-old in his arms for the first time.

"Howdy, stranger."

"Hi, Daa."

He didn't quite have a home yet, Van decided. He hadn't been around enough for that.

But as they retrieved his bag and headed home, he knew.

They were on the road to creating one.

Yes, please don't get panicky; there will be a sequel to SWNLH. However, I could not help but write this little lovely. I hope this holds you all over until the sequel.

Thank you for reading!

Tawnyb