Home
After a particularly stressful day, I found myself lying down beside an old time friend of mine, Isamu Fujiyama. He gulped down another cup of sake, letting out a satisfied sigh as he tossed it onto the ground. I glared over at him.
"Don't litter, idiot."
"Don't tell me what to do, loser." He grinned though, placing his arms behind his head and staring up at the sky. "You know what's funny?" I turned my head to look at him.
"What would that be?"
"How the sky looks the same no matter where you are. It looked like this back home, too."
"That place is no home of mine." I scowled, turning to stare back at the sky. In my opinion, the sky here was much clearer; the atmosphere was easier to breathe in. I would do anything to keep the memories of my old home in the past where they belonged, and Isamu knew that. He had a sadistic side to him that enjoyed bringing up things that should be forgotten.
"It will always be your home, as it will always be mine." I sat up and glared at him.
"A home is a place where you feel welcome, where you aren't scared to die at every corner, where you can relax and be happy! That place is no home of mine. Only a memory that should stay in the past, got it?" He sighed, waving his hand to dismiss me.
"I got it, I got it. You can be so grumpy sometimes."
Sometimes, I really had to wonder about our friendship.
