Author's Note: Sequel to Isolation (s/8826612/1/Isolation). If you want to read the breakup on Kazumi's point of view, though, just PM me. Can't post links. :)

This was heavily inspired by Every Avenue's song, Only Place I Call Home. I do not own a few lines/dialogues here, actually. Due credit is given to Les Miserables (movie) and said song of Every Avenue.

Dedication: For the Vanilla Coated Love, because words cannot express how thankful I am for having been her friend. Yes, it is almost three months late, but still, belated happy birthday! I love you, you short girl.

And to everyone who's supported Isolation in GARCA 2012. The honor is for you. :)

Disclaimer: If I were the owner of Gakuen Alice, Kazu and Hime would be together. You get the point? I sincerely hope so.

Cold. Dark. Dreary.

These words define the life you have been living for a year and three weeks.

Cold: the other side of the bed. The room in general. The house you live in. Your heart, as well as the hearts of everyone who has judged and condemned you.

Dark: the night in itself (with or without stars, it still is). Every single day that she doesn't walk by your side. The world, in all its beauty and all its cruelty. Your world if she's not there.

Dreary: you. Her. Them. Everything you see and everything you cannot see. The living, the dead, the locomotive, the inanimate. Life. Your life, which has been devoid of true, whole happiness, ever since you left her.

Does it not seem real?

It doesn't, but it is.

Does it seem too much to feel?

It does, but it isn't.

It's funny, you think, how the absence of a single person can affect my way of living. All my life, I have only known how to work, and work, and work. I devoted myself to my duty, to the task entrusted to me.

You laugh bitterly, before adding, "Until she came."

She was always there for you, was she not? She was the perfect person for you; she knew you, understood you, complemented your traits, and masked your weaknesses.

And so you muse, "Is my work worth more than she is?"

For the past year, you have answered yes. Now, you are starting to doubt yourself.

You remember short moments together—slivers of memories you cannot hope to relive any sooner.

You were seated on the Hana Hime Den's roof, hands intertwined, looking up, watching the stars. This was a regular occurrence—stargazing, that is—at the dead of the night, when you feel that everyone's asleep and you're the only ones awake.

"The stars are bright tonight," she said.

You looked at her in confusion. "But aren't they always?"

"They seem considerably brighter, though."

"Really? I see no difference."

"Maybe you don't observe them as closely."

"Maybe you're just sleepy."

"Maybe it's because everything's brighter when you're by my side," she said with a yawn.

You were silent for a moment. Then you smiled. "Thank you. Sleep now, love."

You kissed her forehead as she fell asleep in your arms, and carried her to her—your—room.

Upon waking up from your reverie, you realize that maybe one of your biggest regrets is not telling her that she has that same effect on you.

And so, although it is quite late, you resolve that you'll be coming back to her. It defies all rules from "A Man's Guide on Pride" but you decide that pride is a small price to pay if it means being with her again. Although there is a high chance that she will not accept you, you hope that she will welcome you back home a la Parable of the Prodigal Son. Then again, hasn't it been always like that? Weren't you always the son—selfish, proud, and naïve—and wasn't she always like the father—loving, sweet, and forgiving? Yes, you are stupid. Yes, you are used to getting your way. Yes, you are wrong.

But there is no other way to go. In the end, no matter how far you stray, you'll always come back to her. In the end, where she is is where you'd rather be.

In the end, you'll always find a way back home.

So you take a step forward.

And you leave all the no's, what if's, arguments, and thoughts behind.

By all means, you are far from perfect, and so is she. But there is something in her that has ignited a distant spark—something that has awoken feelings you never thought you had. That spark developed into a flame of longing, of desire, of love, and after all these years, it hasn't gone out. In reality, it keeps on growing every single day that you are apart, for it is only in her that you find true comfort and solace; without her, you live through each day, recalling her and basking in her made-up presence, in order to find strength to carry on each day.

And as you stand alone in front of the very door that has witnessed the entirety of the story that is Hime and Kazu—from the beginning to the nightly escapades to the anniversaries and the breakup—you wonder why and how, after all this time, it's been her.

You knock on the door and as she opens it, you find the answer you've been looking for so long.

She smiles the smile you have missed for so long, you smell the scent of vanilla and cinnamon and everything nice in the world. You feel whole.

You feel the need to apologize, but she tells you no even before a sound escapes your lips. Reflected in her eyes is a whirlpool of emotions your mind does not understand.

But your heart does, and that is enough.

No promises are said, and no sweet words but a single statement is spoken, and you are hers again.

"Welcome back, Kazu."

And for once, after a year and three weeks of being away from her, your world finally feels warm. It is night, but everything shines. Finally, you feel that true, unadulterated happiness you have been looking for.

You smile.

"Yeah, I'm home."

END