It has been a very long time since I had a place I could call home.

Even with the added distance of the statement being in another language, Malachi could feel the weight behind each word. Sorrow transcended such barriers; the desire for a place to call home, to belong, was universal. He set a gentle hand upon Chéri's shoulder, but did not let it linger.

For the first time since the youth had walked into the church, Malachi did not hesitate in his reply.

"My reputation?"

He stepped away from the chair, circling it so that he stood in front of the seated Chéri. Malachi practically had to crouch to meet their eye-level.

"I am not here to build a reputation. If it is either here or on the street, please stay here. Don't worry yourself with me."