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by Wiz
Really, she thought smiling, they should have known. He always had been one to surprise them... She snorted, of course he had, he was Kohona's most surprising shinobi, labeled so by his fathers', teachers' teacher. But she mused, they had most certainly not expected what he did. No one had really said anything aloud, and they had all assumed that he was so attached because of his childhood. But, she thought wryly, as the saying goes, all assuming does is make an a$$ out of you and me.
So they had obliged him, taking turns staying with him when one of the others needed to be away, so when his house burned down, he and two of them had seen it blaze and broil and fall and die, down to the ground, with their strange white eyes. They had been coming back from an outing after a successful mission, and of the two the girl would always swear to anyone who would listen, that she saw something die in him right then, and the boy will seem to stare right through you (and he very well might be) and refuse to say a thing.
But the next morning, he was back to his old cheerful, bright self, and no one really knew what to say, to say anything seemed to be wrong, but to say nothing would be even worse. But, as there was nothing to say, they stayed silent. But they watched, and they made sure nothing like this happened again. But he seemed to be over it and nothing changed. They wondered and worried and questioned and speculated about his reaction, but no one questioned him.
And she had went along with them, always wondering, but never asking, always watching, but never doing. She had been swept up by the tide, going with the others, only doing what they were doing, never thinking for herself. They had all just helped him look for a house, and didn't say anything when he didn't choose a new one right away, and had invited him to stay at their houses for however long as he wanted even if their parents disliked him.
Then, one day, she started to wonder at his reluctance to choose a house, and why he wasn't sad that he had lost his own, why he stayed with them when he could have easily gotten his own house, and why no one asked him about it, why he told no one. He had always been ready to talk to them in the past, whether they liked it or not, she thought.
And so, with her gathered courage surrounding her like a cape, she had asked him. And, though she should have suspected it, his answer surprised her.
"It's not about the house," he had said, "It's about the people. A house doesn't matter if there is no one to love and care for you there, it's the people that make it a home." And she had understood, she felt that way herself sometimes, had even thought it when she had been chasing the dark haired emo, before she had given him up to her best friend, that she would only be able to have a home with him. So she had nodded, and they had sat in silence, watching the clouds.
She sighed, enough reminiscing she told herself, getting up, it's almost time for him to come home.
And sure enough, as she stood up, her husband of 15 years walked through the door.
"Hello," She said, "How was your day?"
He smiled, walking up to hug her, wary of her stomach, "Better now that I'm home." he answered.