Authors note: part two of this weeks double post. This one is one of my personal favourites.

I stare out of the window, looking down on the wide views of the city below us. I often forget just how high up we are, how small everything seems in comparison. Kenji walks across my line of vision, pulling me out of my peaceful daydream. He's circling his room like a confused animal, looking in the same corners and tracing over the same steps, and I watch on in mild confusion as he paces around the room without any explanation.

I fall back against the bed. We're in one of the guest rooms at the capital's political center, where our week long stay has finally come to an end. I was packed and ready one hour ago, eager to return to sector 45, but evidently Kenji has not been as organized, and is now crawling around on the floor in search of I'm not sure what, but I'm sure it's something he has yet to pack. My eyes find his duffel bag parked in the middle of the room. It sits open, pieces of rumpled fabric bursting from the bag's opening like a bomb made entirely of clothes went off in there.

"Can you just hurry up with whatever it is you're doing, I want to go home," I grumble impatiently, pressing my face into the thin pillows beneath my head, debating whether or not to throw one at him.

"Just give me a minute," Kenji insists. But I don't want another minute, I want to go home. Whenever we go on an overnight stay I almost always end up feeling homesick. Its starts with the empty beds and the changed routines and before the week is out I'm finding home in the tiniest of things and am already desperate to return.

"I want to go home," I say, more to myself than to Kenji. "I miss the company, I miss my bed..." I sigh, before Kenji pulls me from my thoughts once more.

"I can't find one of my socks," His voice sounds from somewhere in front of the bed. I sit up, staring at him in disbelief.

"Really?" I question, considerably annoyed over the fact that our flight home may have been delayed for the purpose of finding a sock. "This is what all of the fuss is over. One sock."

"It's a very important sock," Kenji justifies, with typical arrogance lacing his voice. I stifle an annoyed groan.

"We could be on the jet home by now," I argue, letting the ache in my chest for home drive my emotions. Kenji perks up from where he's crawling on his hands and knees along the edge of the bed, looking like a dog on its hind legs as he stares at me.

"We are not leaving until I find my sock," insists Kenji firmly, who then proceeds to continue to search under the bed. My eyes roll skyward and a subtle groan shifts its way past my lips as I flop back down against the mattress, listening to Kenji frustratedly tear apart the room. Once he's decided that his sock is not hidden underneath the bed he gets back to his feet, pacing slightly and running one hand through his dark hair before resting it against the back of his neck.

"It's one sock!" I burst, sitting back up to study the vexed expression on his face, wondering what could possibly so important about this one sock. "Who cares about one sock?"

"I do okay," he replies fiercely, defending the sock's perceived importance before pausing, a thought clearly crossing his mind. "Now stand up," he instructs, and I do as I'm told, but not without questioning his motives.

"What would one sock be doing in your bed?" I ask, narrowing my eyes and wrinkling my nose at the strangeness of the request. A few seconds pass before an uncomfortable idea starts to form in the back of my mind, growing heavier like a storm cloud the more I think about it.

"Wait, don't answer that," I add quickly, screwing up my face even more as I look at him. He soon realizes why I'm staring.

"Ew J, I'm not that gross," he defends, furrowing his brow in disgust to match mine. A few seconds of silence tick by. "I wouldn't use a dirty sock." he laughs, reveling in the look of discomfort on my face.

"Can we just stop this conversation now please?" I reply hastily, mortified by the direction this conversation is taking. Kenji lets out a sly laugh before continuing to search the room for his missing sock, pulling the covers off the bed and searching for it atop the mattress. I study him, placing my hands on my hips as he tears his way over the bed like a bulldozer destroying everything in its path. The bed is now a mess, pillows thrown to the floor and sheets in a messy heap at the foot of it. I wish he would just hurry up and find his stupid sock.

"Where is the damn thing?" Kenji hisses under his breath.

"No one cares about your sock Kenji," I exclaim, starting to tire from the ridiculousness of the situation.

"I do," he states, seeming genuinely bothered that nobody cares about this sock as much as he does. "And hey, I've had to listen to you go on about how homesick you've been all week, you could at least help me find my sock." An irritating point but a true one.

"Fine," I huff, rolling my eyes hard. Kenji raises one eyebrow and shoots me a questioning glance.

"Hey, I wouldn't be complaining if I were you," he begins, pointing his finger at me annoyingly. "The sooner we find my sock the sooner you can get-" I cut him off before he can say any more.

"Don't you dare finish that sentence," I warn, knowing that it was probably going to end in a crude and incredibly predictable comment about my love life. Kenji tries and fails spectacularly to hide the smirk that is threatening to split across his face.

"How did you even know what I was going to say?" he wonders with the worst feigned innocence I've ever heard, including mine. I shake my head and breathe out an exasperated sigh.

"Because I know you," I answer, throwing him a playfully annoyed look. "Now shut up and look for your damn sock."

We split up. Kenji heads into the bathroom while I check the dresser and armoire, sliding open the empty drawers. I hear muffled shouts from Kenji which I can only assume means that he's had no such luck finding the sock in the bathroom, not that I'm particularly surprised. I pull open the doors to the armoire, searching the inside for the missing sock. When I conclude that the sock is not at the bottom of the armoire I search the drawers, still nothing.

I slam the doors shut in frustration and a slight sound catches my ears. I look to the side of the armoire to see a small sliver of cloth poking out from behind it. I pick it up, and surely enough it turns out to be a sock.

"Hey Kenji," I yell, causing him to run in from the bathroom. "Is this what you were looking for?"

"Yes," he answers excitedly, grabbing the sock out of my hand. "Where did you find it?"

"Down the back of the armoire," I explain. "What the hell was it doing there?"

"I have no idea," Kenji says, dropping the sock into the mess he calls an overnight bag before attempting to zip it up. I run my hands over my face, letting the tension from the last few minutes escape. At least it was all over now. I let out a sigh, my tolerance for his annoying antics having just dropped considerably, so I don't know how pleasant a jet ride this is going to be. All I do know is that I can't wait to get home, where this is going to make a very interesting story.