It had been a relief.

Leaving her.

After so many years, it felt good not to have her grave to attend every week, not to have the picture of her in my drawer.

I had left that behind as well.

It felt better here. Safer. I had moved four years ago after receiving an offer I couldn't decline. People had believed I was crazy, seeing it paid me about half than being the CEO of my own company. What they didn't understand, however, was that I sold the rights to my own company to such an astronomical sum, I could live a thousand lifetimes without ever having to work another day in my life. Considering that, the payment of being the CEO of this new company was more than enough.

But I didn't do it for the money. I hadn't sold my old company and left my indoor garden for the money. I had done it for my soul.

And it was the best thing I had ever done.

New Zealand had been kind to me. My new job had been kind to me. And, even if I was very well-known on the other side of the planet as well, I wasn't at all as interesting as I was in my home country, entailing much less anxiety. I could move more freely in town, without body guards or worry.

And without her ghost.

I still thought of her. Every day, I thought of her. And the guilt still held a large portion of my heart in an iron fist. But now, ten years after her death, I didn't consider her my wife anymore, but my ex-wife.

The pain hadn't diminished, and probably never would. But I had grown around that pain, causing it to take up a smaller portion of the person I was. And I had started living life for me, with a job that I loved, less overtime, more exercise and less people who did things for me.

One thing I had not wanted to be without, however, and that was my indoor garden. I was an estate agent's worst nightmare, not only demanding an open apartment with a panoramic view of Wellington, but one where I could install a garden.

And I had installed said garden with the help of a landscape architect and a gardener, and made it even more dreamy than the last one, a beautiful pool in the middle surrounded by maple leaves being the centre piece.

I loved it. I loved it so much.

I had found my place in the world.

No, I had created my place in the world.

I had created a home.

I heard of him the same day he'd had his interview with Mark.

At the time, I didn't know it was him. I didn't ask about his name. I was terrible at asking people for their names in general. I once realised I had worked alongside a man for two months without ever catching his name and by that time, it was too late to ask without causing myself great embarrassment.

But I had heard of him immediately. Mark had phoned me as soon as he'd hung up Skype.

"I've found him."

"What?" I said, frowning.

"Our new graphic designer."

Oh, finally! We had searched and searched for a year since our previous one quit. We had made grandiose plans to expand on the web, but we were tied up without a designer. There had been a lot of applicants, but none that was quite to our satisfaction.

Now, however, Mark had found one. From overseas.

And as soon as he began, it took only a day before the rumours reached me. Not only was he frightfully talented and hard-working; but he was also liked by everyone. Mark phoned me on the Friday before he left for Melbourne, and only had good things to say.

"He's a gem. A real cutie as well", he said.

And I started to get really, really curious about him.

The next week, I would pay a rare visit to the different departments as I took some of Mark's meetings. But I wasn't at all nervous about it as I had been back home. There was a different kind of openness here about me not showing my face all the time, an openness that had been lacking in my home country. There, I believed the culture of finding faults in famous people ate away at people's hearts, affecting me in the negative. Here, however, everyone greeted me with genuine enthusiasm when I showed up, told me that they were happy to see me, asked me how I was, said they appreciated the work I had done with our program involving the instalment of solar energy in third world countries. I looked forward to that, I thought on Monday morning as I buttoned up my blue shirt, rolled up its sleeves, and refused to tuck it in. I took my car, still automatic, and drove to work.

I immediately went to the department on the fifteenth floor where the group working with our web page sat. I held a meeting with the leading group that went swiftly, leaving me time to go see what they were doing. The leading group showed me around, introduced me to some codes they were working on to make the web page stand out.

"It was a good move", one in the leading group said to me. "To focus so much on web development. At this moment, it's the primary thing attracting new clients. We estimate a twenty percent increase in sales when we launch the new page. Meaning it will all have paid itself within two years."

I never got praise at my previous job; nobody dared. I liked praise, I had come to realise.

"Excellent job", I told them. "We couldn't have done it without you."

One of them took me to the side then.

"You've heard about our graphic designer, right?"

I smiled.

"I have. Quite a lot, actually."

"He's insane. The things he can do with that iPad of his. He doesn't use any program to type; he paints the fonts and it looks better than what a computer could produce." He whistled. "And he's so young! Please, don't scare him away. We need him!" I loved this jargon between me and my workers; so easy, so full of life. "Also, he drinks only one coffee a day. Which means he basically doesn't cost anything extra."

I laughed.

"I thought I'd meet him", I said.

"He sits over there." He pointed to the room. The door was opening. He'd hung up a sign saying WELCOME IN. It was quite adorable.

"I'll go see him."

I knocked carefully at his door. I opened my mouth to say his name, but realised I had no idea what it was.

"Come in", a warm voice said.

That warm voice sparked something within me; a glimmer of recognition. I frowned.

I stepped in. The man was sitting at his desk, a large iPad in front of him, holding an Apple Pencil elegantly in his hand, letting it rest on the iPad screen as he looked up to see who'd come in. He'd pulled the curtains closed over the window behind him so the autumn sun wouldn't reflect on his screen, but the room was still bright as it was a corner room, so he had windows on two sides.

The man himself was small, with long hair draping his shoulders. He was dressed in a dark green, oversized shirt that looked very comfortable. A ring glistened in the corner of his lip.

His lips parted as he saw me.

"Tobirama", he said breathlessly.

I couldn't say anything.

I was deep in shock.

What are you doing on the other side of the earth?

But at the same time, it didn't feel strange at all.

Of course... Of course it's you. Of course it's you who've won everyone's hearts. Of course it's you who's so insanely good at your job.

The graphic designer was Izuna.