The lines at security are already long by the time we get there. Laptops and briefcases and purses ride through scanners; guards wave passengers through.
Me and Shoma stop outside the last set of doors. This is as far as he can go.
“I hope the flight’s not too bad,” Shoma says. “Nine hours, right? Quicker this direction, at least.”
It is. It takes more than ten the other way, because of the wind.
I nod. There’s a lump in my throat I’m trying to pretend doesn’t exist. “Yeah, but there’ll be movies, and I’ve got tons of music on my cell now. It’ll feel quick.”
“Text me when you land just so I know you didn’t end up flying into some other dimension?”
“Sure.”
“Cool.”
But Shoma doesn’t give my head a final scrub with his knuckles, and he doesn’t move to leave. Instead, he’s fiddling with the cap of his bottle of tea, suddenly seeming nervous. He’s not saying any of the things I thought he would, either, things that are supposed to make our good-bye easier, to feel not as permanent as it probably, most likely, is.
I hope you don’t fail.
Keep up with guitar lessons.
Text if you want.
“Kaede, I’m wondering, how would you feel about moving back to Japan?”
I stare at my brother. “What?”
“Well, you’d just go to school here, the same as you would in Vancouver.” Shoma’s still fiddling, but then he gives me a grin. “Your Japanese is good enough that you won’t be behind for long. You already have a room at my place. We’ll get ahold of Dad again for money for stuff you’ll eventually need, but if we can’t, we’ll still figure something out.”
I think of my room at Shoma’s. How the tatami mats smell of grass. How I don’t roll off the futon anymore while I sleep. The sounds of Shoma moving around the apartment in the middle of the night, trying to be quiet but not doing such a great job. I think of the neighborhood around his apartment, with its cafés and shops and konbinis.
I can navigate the streets now with my eyes closed.
I know its shortcuts by heart.
“Your friends from Vancouver can visit whenever they want,” Shoma says. “Sometimes I’ll have to be away for work, but it won’t happen often.” And I’ll always come back. “Or I’ll keep those to weekends, so you can just come with me. So what do you think?”
The idea of moving back to Tokyo and living with my brother—I already know I want to say yes. My heart hurts with wanting to say yes.
I’ll miss Vancouver. I’ll miss Gemma and Jory, my old house. I’ll even miss Grandpa, the small peeks of his personality I was beginning to know. All those things—I’ll keep some of them with me.
And what it’s really about is this:
I think I owe Shoma a chance to learn about family again.
I’d want that same chance, if he were the one visiting me, and he was figuring out what home really meant, and wondering if he should stay.
I’m even thinking about our dad. I want to ask him about work. To hear him tell me how it means everything, to know that I’m okay with it.
I owe myself that, too.
“You don’t have to decide now.” Shoma peers up at the oversized clock on the wall—I have to go. “It’ll probably take a few weeks to organize all the paperwork, anyway. Maybe you can think about it and—”
“I already have.” I rush toward the doors—it’s no longer hard to leave because the faster I’m gone, the faster I can be back—and call out one more thing. “But can you start keeping real food in the house?”
My brother’s smile is as big as mine. He gives me a wave. “Sounds good.”
I wave back, and then I’m in security, dropping my backpack onto the moving belt. I pick it up on the other side of the scanner and practically sprint toward my assigned gate. The whole time I’m still grinning, unable to stop.
Coming here for the summer, it wasn’t because Tokyo was supposed to be a new home, even if I hadn’t exactly been sad leaving Vancouver. While flying over the ocean, I’d spent the hours going back and forth, so unsure—which place felt less wrong for me?
I hadn’t guessed it would end up that both were right, each in their own way.
So now I know it’s not about roots only growing deep. They can grow outward, too, toward people, and places, a feeling.
That’s home.
You take it with you.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book is so very special to me, and it’s a dream come true to now have it out in the world. But I didn’t do it alone and without a lot of help along the way.
My most heartfelt thanks to my wonderful agent, Victoria Marini, who got this book from the very start, who wields magic behind the scenes, who makes it all happen. Thank you forever and ever, Victoria.
Countless thank-yous to my amazing editor, Anna Roberto, for embracing this book as fully as she did and for her guidance in helping me make it shine as brightly as possible. Anna, it’s been nothing but a joy to work with you.
So many thanks to in-house designer Carol Ly, production editor Alexei Esikoff, production manager Kim Waymer, copyeditor Jill Amack, and everyone else at Feiwel & Friends for being an incredible publishing home.
To the stunningly talented Lynn Scurfield, thank you for so generously sharing with me your gorgeous artwork. You’ve brought Kaede and his story to life in yet another way, and I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect book cover.
Tons of thanks to my early readers Alyssa Keiko, Matthew Ringler, Ellen Oh, Emma Pass, and Kimberly Ito—your feedback was immensely valuable, and I’ll always be grateful for your time and thoughtfulness.
To family, lots more thank-yous. Special shout-outs to my dad, Bak Wong, whom I miss very, very much. Thanks for all those thousands of trips to the library when I was kid—I wish we could go together one more time. My mom, Hing Wong, for being the very first person to tell me I should write stories for a living. My sister, Wendy Wong, who owes me a concert next time she’s in town. And to Jesse, Matthew, and Gillian—thank you so much for helping me fill this book with our time together here in Japan. You guys will always be everything.
Also, this book wouldn’t exist if not for Nothing’s Carved In Stone and their music. Thank you for your songs, your shows, and for inspiring me to write All the Ways Home. I had the absolute best time doing so.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Elsie Chapman is the author of young adult dystopian series: Dualed and Divided (Random House) and the young adult novel Along the Indigo (Abrams), as well as the co-editor of Anthology of Asian Fantasy stories Legendary (Greenwillow). She is Chinese-Canadian, and lives in Japan with her husband. All the Ways Home is her middle grade debut. You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
; Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright
Copyright © 2019 by Elsie Chapman
A Feiwel and Friends Book
An imprint of Macmillan Publishing Group, LLC
175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010
mackids.com
All rights reserved.
Feiwel and Friends logo designed by Filomena Tuosto
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.
Our eBooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at (800) 221-7945 ext. 5442 or by email at [email protected].
First hardcover edition 2019
eBook edition May 2019
eISBN 9781250166784
All the Ways Home Page 15