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HIBIKI NO UCHI (HIBIKI HOUSE)

by Kunosenpai

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Thanks a lot to piccolabimba, who masterfully translated this story from Italian :)

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"I don't know where I am going

I don't know what I will do when I grow up

I don't even know what I will put on tomorrow morning".

Ciao Tu, Masini-Piumini

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Once again, the young man crumpled the slip of paper that the hand free from the load had been carrying for several hours.

He looked up. The countryside seemed familiar.

One of the houses in particular attracted his interest.

He focused on the kanji by the entrance way.

"Oh, it is my house!"

Of course, he would benefit from stopping: he certainly needed to get a change of clothes. Besides, he had to get a bigger bag to carry his souvenirs.

Until a little while ago, the one he had was plenty. However, lately, he had picked up the habit of acquiring not one, but two tokens per trip. And so, now, the old bag was nearly falling apart from the strain.

He walked in.

"Anybody here?"

Silence.

No occupants, not this time.

"Woof!"

Correction. No human occupants.

"Checkers! How are the puppies? Come here, pretty girl!"

He stroked the dog, who upon hearing him, had happily attacked him.

A Hibiki's return home was always an event.

He climbed the stairs and found his room. Set down the worn bag. Opened the closet. A rack of spotted bandanas, all identical, presented themselves.

"Hmmm, which to choose?" he asked himself, scratching his forehead. "This one! It will certainly match the best!"

While he put it on, he thought about his collected gifts. Akari would appreciate the piglet themed apron that he bought in Nagano, he was sure. The other choice was more difficult. It was normal, he had been giving gifts to Akane for a much longer time and in her case, the fantasy was starting to fade.

In the end, he chose an edible specialty. The uiro (1) from Nagoya… or was it Shizuoka? Either way, he would definitely make his case when he brought it to the Tendos.

Even so, he was almost regretting the culinary choice. Maybe because something had left him unsettled. He opened his clenched hand, unrolling the crumpled paper. He reread it.

"Even if we circle the globe in search of beauty, we must have it already in our house: otherwise, we will never find it." (2)

Stupid aphorism. From a stupid fortune cookie, sold to him that morning by a stupid traveling Chinese salesman. To tell the truth, he had simply turned to the old man to get directions: the guy then quickly slipped him the sweet while simultaneously requesting the payment of two hundred Yen.

He went down to the kitchen and gathered provisions to put in his backpack. He stopped. That's right, the bag. It had to be in the storeroom.

Suddenly he snorted, seemingly without reason.

Who did that slip of paper think he was? It was insinuating that maybe travelers are immature? That wasn't true for him. His house was deserted. He didn't really have a home. He needed to look for his direction on the outside!

And so he had yelled at the travelling salesman, attracting the attention of the passersby.

The old man did not lose his composure. He had simply added: "Home is where your soul tells you," before he disappeared. Leaving him alone with his thoughts.

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He left. He shook his head.

He had the new bag with him. One day, he promised himself, the old one would again be plenty: Ryoga would have recovered it and turned toward home.

It just was not yet time.

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End Notes:

(1) Uiro is a traditional Japanese sweet made of sugar and rice flour. It is a specialty of Nagoya.

(2) The aphorism, in truth, is from Ralph Waldo Emerson. I modified it a little.

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