Tobirama

I hadn't seen him in a while.

I worked every evening, but he wasn't there, at the bar. The man who worked the days Madara had off stood there instead. 

Madara had never just disappeared before. He'd had some odd days off, but then he'd always let me know. I frowned as I twirled my poi around my body, lighting up the beach with the orange glow, the sand as perfect of a canvas as my skin; it was so fair. What if Madara was punishing me since I never told him when I had days off? I shook the thought away; it was a power move from my side, not telling him, but he knew, and he'd never minded but kept informing me about his own days off, anyway.

After a week of no Madara, I suddenly became worried that Madara had actually quit. So I asked the club owner, who just smiled and said Madara had asked for a week off to go on vacation with someone.

I felt my heart freeze to ice. I honestly didn't know what would've been worse; him actually having quit without saying goodbye, or this. It must be the chestnut man. It must be. Who else?

I tried to collect myself. Maybe, he was meeting up with family or a friend. What did I know?

But I knew. I knew it was the chestnut man

After my gig, I stood looking over the ocean, trying to understand what it was I felt. The last few years of my life, or most of I life if I was being honest, had been void of all emotions except for the despise I felt towards people less successful than me. Since Izuna had diminished that for me, maybe there was room for other emotions? What was I feeling now, regarding Madara and the chestnut man? I tried to think of jealousy, but I'd never felt it before, so I didn't know. I tried something else then, imagining Izuna with the chestnut man, and it was as if someone had poured thick, black oil over my heart. This, I thought, this was jealousy. What I felt regarding Madara was not it. With Madara, it was the fright of being unsuccessful, of being everything I hated in other people. Someone was better than me, and I had a hard time living with it.

I contemplated Izuna instead. I had considered asking him to come stay at my place, but something stopped me. Truth was, I was frightened, frightened because I didn't understand what it all meant. I used to loathe people like Izuna, and believe they deserved the misery they'd brought upon themselves. But now, I imagined him alone, sleeping under a bridge like that time I had found him on the verge of being fucked up in the botanical garden, and felt terribly ashamed and guilty.

"Hi."

I didn't turn around. I hadn't noticed him sneaking up behind me. I couldn't help but feel happy he was here. Finally... Finally, maybe some clarity. 

"Hi, Madara", I said softly.

"How are you?" he asked kindly. We rarely asked each other that question.

"I don't know", I said honestly.

"I'm sorry for leaving without telling you", he said.

"It's okay."

"I just thought-"

"Madara", I interrupted. "You don't owe me an explanation." You don't owe me anything.

We stood still for a while at the beach, me with my back to him, both of us looking out over the ocean. A single lighthouse blinked every few seconds far away. It was almost as if I could hear the light. I wondered if Madara could hear it, too. I wondered if Izuna would have been able to hear it, had he stood here.

"You've met someone, haven't you?" Madara asked.

I couldn't help but smile a sad smile.

"Yes", I said.

"It's okay, you know?"

I could hear the tears in his voice.

I turned round, and saw his beautiful face drenched in tears, but even so, he was smiling.

"Madara..."

"I'm happy for you."

I leaned forwards, places my lips on his. It wasn't a kiss, exactly, more of a touch, a breath.

This is our last kiss.

I wanted to ask him the same. I wanted to ask him the same question, but I didn't dare to.

But I felt that with time, I would be able to ask, and I wouldn't be afraid of the answer. Because I would have let Madara go. 

As I should have, long ago.

Izuna

I was incredibly nervous.

What if it was just a kind invite without any meaning behind it?

In the end, I hadn't allowed myself to think, just walked along the beach street, full of people now, to his tent.

It was only lunchtime, so I thought it might be too early for him to be there. But just in case, I'd washed my hair and my clothes in the ocean yesterday. I missed having different outfits, and I longed to express myself with clothes, but it was what it was.

He wasn't in his tent, though; he was swimming in the ocean, alone. It was a splendid day, and he was far out in the glittering water and didn't notice me. I sat down in the sand, hugging my knees and watched with a smile on my face as he crawled in the ocean. It was clearly a workout because he was at it for a long time, but I didn't mind; I enjoyed watching him. Finally, he turned to the beach, and after a while, he stood up and started walking ashore. He was so far away that I couldn't be certain, but he might have smiled when he saw me.

I swallowed as his muscular body emerged out of the water. He was a dangerous siren and I was a diabetic ex-ballerina who would do anything for him, I thought.

"What brings me the honour?" he asked.

"You promised me gelato", I said; I felt daring.

He smiled.

"Let me dry first, then I'll take you." I choked. Tobirama smiled. "To get gelato, I mean."

"I know that's what you meant!" I said a bit too quickly.

And to my great surprise, he took a towel, dried the salt out of his hair real quick, then laid down on his back in the sand in front of me with his head in my lap, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

I just stared, my hands up as if surrendering, not knowing what to do with them.

Then, slowly, carefully, I lowered them and started playing with his hair.

"I wondered if you would dare", he said, relaxed, eyes closed against the sun.

"Oh, shut up", I whispered. 

We had a lot of fun, him and I.

He took me to what must've been the most expensive gelato place in the universe. He choose blackberry and mojito gelato, while I went for nougat and marzipan. He paid in a very gentlemanly fashion without even mentioning it, so smoothly I didn't even feel ashamed. We walked on the beach street, eating out ice creams faster than we would like or it would melt in the sun, shouting as it melted all over our hands.

Once we were done, he casually took my hand, and we walked, hand in hand. We probably looked like the most normal couple, me not even looking homeless now I'd freshened up a bit, but inside, I was burning from the point where his hand had contact with mine and all throughout my body. We talked for hours, about everything, and I was surprised how easy he was to talk to.

Evening approached, and I noticed Tobirama was getting more and more quiet.

"What?" I asked.

"I'm trying to bring up the courage to ask you something", he said.

I was suddenly worried.

"Okay, now I'm scared", I said.

Tobirama turned to me and smiled. A wharf with beautiful little sail boats provided a beautiful backdrop behind him, and the smell of sea salt intermingled with a mildly perfumed flower close-by.

"Don't be", he said calmly. "I wanted to ask you." He stopped and took both of my hands in his. "I wish to see you dance again." He indicated my backpack. "I guess your shoes are in there", he said. "Please, let me take you to my tent and dance for me."

A million thoughts went through my head. Happiness to be allowed to dance once more. Excitement to impress Tobirama. But most of all, pressure. Pressure to be enough for him.

Yet, I knew I couldn't say no. Not because of Tobirama, but because of me. I wouldn't allow myself to say no.

"Okay", I said.

Tobirama lit up like the lighthouse you could see from the beach at his practice tent. It was as if I could hear that light. 

I took a deep breath, let my arms come out beside me, tensed my fingertips up.

Breathe... Breathe, just like when you are alone.

On the sanded surface of Tobirama's practice tent, I started stepping. Carefully at first, with my eyes closed, I tried to feel the atmosphere, so different now he was in the tent, sitting with his legs splayed on the ground at the tent wall, watching. I knew I needed to open my eyes to be able to perform, and I did, making sure I didn't look at him because then, I knew I would break.

Focus... Focus on your legs.

I came up on the toes of my pointe shoes, and I started dancing.

I danced and danced, not allowing myself to be engulfed by the pressure that I knew surrounded me like a great maw opening up above me, ready to swallow me whole. Instead, I forced my mind back to my dance, to my ballet, over and over.

I stepped around the tent, in pirouettes and jumps, in emotional swirls as I danced my heart out. I didn't know for how long it went on, but I was a sweaty mess by the time I was done.

And once I was down, I broke down. I broke down on the ground, crying my heart out as I felt I wasn't enough, would never be enough because the man I was falling for had slept with a ballet dancer much, much better than me.

And as I cried, I felt a pair of strong arms around me that held me without question, comforting me.

I wondered if the strong arms knew they were the cause of my breakdown.

"Come", he murmured into my hair. "Come with me. I want to show you something."

Of course I would. I would follow this man to the end of the world.