Izuna:

"Ten minutes, Mr. Uchiha!"

"Oh, please, call me Izuna!"

The manager of the venue smiled. "It's a big audience today. One thousand."

"Oh, my lord!" I was still not used to greater audiences like that.

I took one last look in the mirror and smiled at the star-struck look in my eyes I still had since the concert two days ago. 

I knew everything there was to know about him. I had searched him endlessly during sleepless nights, acting like the total fanboy I was. I knew he was born in the country, that he'd begun piano at a very young age and had a master's degree from university, although as opposed to me who had a degree in biology, he'd studied music. I knew he was thirty-one, an exceptionally young age to have reached his status, but for me, it was perfect as that made him six years older than me. I liked a bit of an age gap in my men. I knew he never did interviews, that he was very laid-back and didn't interact with his audience much, if at all. In gossip magazines, he was described as anything but down-to-earth, as full of himself for never speaking, but I just didn't want to believe that. He couldn't have anything but a good heart!

The best part, though, were the photos. Paparazzi were mad over him, snapping pictures whenever they could. He was always with two body guards, and always looked incredibly well-dressed. He seemed awkward when out, looking down and his face a bit stiff, which made me wonder what layers lay beneath this man.

After my own concert the night after I had attended his, I drove the two hours home, not wanting to stay at a hotel as I preferred my own bed, and washed my face the first thing I did. My bathroom, and my entire apartment, were immaculately clean but very messy, and I could barely see my face in my bathroom mirror due to all the post-its I'd put up there. Those never lasted long due to the steam from the hot showers I liked to take but fell off, but if I came up with a good idea in the shower, where else would I write it?

I undressed and crept up in my bed, huddling beneath the thick duvet, enjoying the clean feeling, crisp feeling and soft smell of mild laundry detergent. I hugged my pillow close to my body, imagining how Tobirama's hair tickled my face. That made me blush... You're not in your mind's right, I scolded myself.

But if I wasn't, then I never wanted to be in my mind's right. 

Tobirama:

I rarely noticed how exhausted I was until I came home.

I'd spent seven hours in the theatre where I was contracted, practicing on my wing. I sometimes forgot to eat and drink while playing, and that had happened today. I was done for.

I went to my fridge that was sadly empty, but I did find some cold pizza, vegetables and a Cream Soda I took with me to the kitchen table. I made a large salad with beans because I knew that would be good for me to have with my pizza. Music always came first to me, my health second, which I knew it wasn't doable long-term.

And tonight, especially, eating would be hard.

Tomorrow...

I felt the bite of cold pizza I'd taken grow in my mouth, becoming impossible to chew. Fuck me... I tried not going down that route in my mind, but this time of year, it was hard.

Christmas Day...

I usually played a concert then, taking my mind off things, but this year, I was invited for New Year's instead, so Christmas Day stood empty as some nut in my team had decided I needed time off. I thought about trying to fill it with some exercise, something I knew I would be doing more of. I did it twice a week, and had built up a good physique for myself and was far from as thin as I used to be when I was a university student, but a few extra pounds of muscle and fat on me would probably do me good. So exercising on Christmas Day it was.

It was always the hardest day of the year. I'd stopped celebrating it long ago. Besides, I was alone, so I didn't see the point in celebrating. I didn't like the food stuff you ate during the holidays anyway, and-

Stop it, I ordered myself. You're fleeing in your mind. Don't do that. Stay here.

And I stayed.

I closed my eyes, cold pizza-slice still in hand, the fizzing of Cream Soda still on my tongue.

And I relived it.

That day exactly twenty years ago this year.

That day I had lost my brother.

That day I had become silent.