'This word means... home.' Paprika writes the word down on the crude blackboard. The children behind her go wide-eyed as they stare at the string of symbols. They echo her, though their pronunciations are all off. 'Hmm... Not quite.' She patiently repeats herself, making sure to enunciate slowly this time. Some of the children finally manage to imitate her correctly. 'What does that mean?', asks a young voice. 'Err...' Paprika thinks for a moment. 'Home is the place we live. Here, where we have our friends and family—' 'And bombs and air raids!' 'No, no, war's not a part of home!' Paprika starts waving her hands about. 'Huh... I can't imagine it.' She never thought teaching children would be this much of a pain. She looks around her, trying to find a simple and straightforward way to explain such a broad concept. Suddenly, her eyes fall on a set of embroidery hanging on the shelf. 'Aha! Let's use these as an example. Look, this one shows when everyone met up to receive emergency rations, and this one is when the Chairman gave her speech... These are things we're all familiar with, and let all of us gather together. They're all a part of home.' 'Oh, I get it now!' The children chatter over each other about all sorts of recent events as they look over the various pieces of embroidery. 'That's great! Since everyone understands the meaning of the word now... why don't you follow what I taught you before and sew what you see as home using the embroidery frames!' 'Okay—!' Paprika has barely finished speaking before the children pick up their needles and thread, sewing whatever their hearts tell them to. As she waits for them to finish their masterpieces, she sidles up next to a girl. She noticed her a while ago, thanks to the sullenness and confusion apparent on her face. 'Everything going okay, Caella?' The young girl is startled by Paprika's sudden appearance. She hangs her head, not daring to look at Paprika in the face. 'I... I still don't understand what home means. My Mom and Dad went to Victoria, but they're still not back. And when the air raid happened, lots of people left Kazdel...' Paprika clasps Caella's tiny hand in her own as she looks at the embroidery on the frame. Though it is only halfway done, every stitch has been meticulously sewn. 'Your sewing is really pretty... Could you tell me more about it?' 'I want to sew... one of the stories Nymph told me. She said that in Kazdel, a long time ago, people would gather around the fire to sing and dance.' The girl's voice gradually gets quieter. 'I think that might be the home you were talking about. But even Nymph's gone now... I know she's got a lot of important things to do, but... everyone will leave this place eventually, right?' 'I'm not leaving.' A spark of light cuts through the confusion clouding the girl's eyes. 'I'm sure you won't be leaving either, Caella. And also, err... the Chairman? The Chairman definitely isn't going to leave.' Paprika looks Caella in the eye. 'And the Nymph you mentioned, she's definitely running around out there for the sake of our home. One day, all the Sarkaz will come back to this land.' 'Are you... sure?' 'Mhm. I'm sure. Because this is Kazdel, the place we live.'