I was allowed a thirty minute walk or run each day.

That run or walk had to take place while he was at work, to minimise the time we were away from each other. I also had to text him before I went out, after fifteen minutes, and when I came back home. On top of that, I had to have a tracking device on my phone activated so that he could see exactly where I was.

In the beginning, he had said it was because he cared.

"I worry so much about you. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you. Of..."

He had had to bite down on his knuckles to prevent himself from crying, and I had felt so sorry for him then, and so lucky to have a boyfriend who cared so much, that I didn't think twice about it.

Nowadays, he didn't even pretend anymore.

"I swear you'll be up to no good the second I take my eyes off you", he would say, sounding as if he was disgusted. I didn't ask him why he was with someone he was so clearly disgusted by. "I know exactly what you're thinking. I bet you spend your entire half an hour looking at other men."

I didn't. I didn't dare to. Even when he took me out, I had my head cast resolutely down all the time, and even so, he would beat me up when we came home because I had been 'eyeing up every man we walked past, flaunting around your body'.

Today, however, I would go on a walk that would change my life forever, and put me in the greatest happiness and greatest despair I had ever experienced.

"I'm going out now", I said softly as I called him.

"Are you dumb? How many times do I have to tell you that you need to be specific before you can take it into your thick skull? Running or walking?"

I swallowed. How had we come to this? How had we become this? At first when I called before my daily trips out, he had been so kind to me, asked me about my day, told me he missed me and couldn't wait to get home. Now, he always found a way to make me feel terrible about myself. You would have thought that I had gotten used to it by now, but I hadn't. It still hurt.

Because somewhere deep down, I still loved him.

"Walking", I said, trying to keep my voice steady and succeeding, actually.

"Good. Running don't do you any good, anyway. No matter how fit you are, nobody would want you. Count yourself lucky I'm still with you."

No... No, I'm not lucky... You are the one who's lucky.

We hung up, and as usual, I had to spend the entire walk calming myself from the conversation I'd had with my boyfriend. At this point, wouldn't it be better if I just didn't go out so I didn't have to call him? The walks or runs never made me feel better; they just evened out the pain he had caused me for going out in the first place, rendering them useless. 

I walked through the neighbourhood and a bit further away, taking care to watch the time on my phone so I could call him after exactly fifteen minutes, and not a minute later.

Then, something caught my eye.

It was a poster. 

Of course, there were many posters as it was a poster board, but this one was so well-made, it took my breath away. The person who designed it clearly knew what they were doing.

The backdrop was black-and-white and depicted a beautiful city skyline, and the text was white, and the contrasts made it surprisingly easy to read, even if the backdrop wasn't faded.

Apparently, an internationally renowned photographer of architecture was looking for subjects to practice portrait photography. My fingers itched to check out his webpage, but of course, that was impossible as I had no data. I couldn't e-mail him, but...

"Excuse me!" I said to a couple walking by, praying they hadn't read the poster and couldn't see through my bluff. "I'm sorry, but I've got a new phone and I have no contacts on it yet. I have no data and I've forgotten my medication at home. I really need to get hold of my brother at home and I don't know his number by heart." I had no idea where all of this came from. I had no brother. "Can you please google his number for me? His name is Hashirama Senju."

They kindly did.

"Wow! He seems to be quite famous!" the girl said.

I smiled and blushed a little for some reason.

"I know."

"And here's a photo of him..." the boy said. Suddenly, I was terrified Hashirama Senju was very old. Then, he could never pass for my brother. "Handsome, too!"

"Oyy!" the girl joked and smacked his arm playfully. "His number is..."

And she gave it to me.

This tiny piece of human interaction did things to me. It was so... nice, talking and joking with others, even if they were strangers. What did it feel like to have such an easy-going relationship? 

I looked down on the number I had written down on the dial board on my phone. Would I dare go behind his back to do something like this? What if he found out?

Suddenly, another problem struck me. What if Hashirama was a man who desired favours? No... No, he would be too careful about his reputation.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my hand, and I jerked. Shit! It was him. But why? It has only been fourteen minutes.

"Hi", I said chirpily.

"Why have you stopped?"

Shit. Hadn't thought of that. Of course, he was tracking me.

"I just saw a poster about a lost cat", I said on the spot. "I thought I recognised it, so I stood scrolling through my photos to see if any of the ones of cats I've seen while walking matched the photo of the lost cat. I always take photos of the cats I see." I added. 

I had no idea where this ability to lie came from. I wasn't sure I liked being so good at it. I did have a lot go cat photos on my phone, though, so if he asked to see them to check if I told the truth, which he probably would, I would easily be able to. 

"Hmm", he said, and I could almost hear how he tried to come up with a reason to tell me off. But apparently, he couldn't. "Don't let it happen again."

"I promise", I said.

But I didn't feel frightened. Instead, when I walked home, I was feeling all sorts of emotions I hadn't felt in a long, long time. Giddiness and hope and very, very nervous. 

The first time he beat me up, he was drunk.

At that point, I had definitely noticed there was something odd with our relationship, yet I refused to see what it was. I loved him fiercely. 

So one night, when he didn't come home at six as he usually did, I was so worried I was trembling.

He hadn't called or texted, and he didn't answer my calls or texts either. At midnight, I was so nervous, I considered contacting the police. What if something had happened?

But then, at two am, he staggered in.

"Thank God!" I screamed and threw myself into his arms.

But he did something he had never done before. He pushed me away.

And I noticed his scent was different. He smelled of alcohol...

And someone else's cologne.

"You're drunk", I said.

"Get the fuck off me", he slurred.

He had never talked to me that way before.

"Have you... Have someone hurt you?" I asked. 

And that was when he hit me.

It came from nowhere. One second, I was standing up, and the next, I was on the floor, my ears ringing. My head was throbbing, but it took some time before I could feel the pain. When I did, I hid my face in my hands.

"Uhh..." I whimpered, too shocked to feel any emotions, feeling only the physical pain.

And then a pair of strong arms around me holding me in an embrace that smelled of alcohol and someone else's cologne.

"Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Come here. I'm sorry Madara. I'm so, so sorry. I didn't think straight. It wasn't me, I swear, it was the alcohol. I promise it won't happen again."

It happened again.