Tobirama

"What flights are there for today?"

The woman in the desk looked at me.

"Sorry?"

"Flights away from Tokyo."

"Where to?"

"Anywhere."

She checked.

"I'm sorry, Sir. Since it's past midnight, we are limited in the number of departing flights. There is one with a few seats available. To Iceland."

My heart stopped. My birth country. I hadn't been there since I left for the States to study on scholarship, and that had been when I was sixteen. I had vowed never to go back. Although I had never been in such a situation as I was now.

"I'll take it", I said.

She booked me on the flight. I went to the gate and waited. I picked up my phone and saw two missed calls from Hashirama and five from Izuna. I took a deep breath. Then, I deleted my entire Instagram account. And before I could have second thoughts, I took out the SIM-card, crushed it, and threw my phone in the trash. 

Izuna

"Hey."

I jerked, looked behind me. It was Hashirama, looking sullen.

"Any news?" I asked hopefully.

"No", he said, sitting down next to me on the grass.

I sighed, hid my face in my hands. It was five am now. The morning birds had started to sing over Hakka-san's hotel garden, the sun was rising in the east. There was no trace of the party except for some stray champagne glasses and the air whispering that something mesmerising had happened here only hours ago. A soft wind caressed us, bringing with it sakura petals to thicken the light pink carpet on the grass.

Tobirama was gone. He was well and truly gone. I had tried to call him, but it had dialled out at first and then gone straight to voice mail. Hashirama had tried to call him, but with the same result.

"He has deleted his Instagram account", I said. 

We were quiet, not knowing what to do. I was worried beyond myself, worried that something had happened, that he lay beaten up somewhere, on the brim of death.

But another part of me, and I was ashamed to say this part was bigger than the part that worried that something had happened to him, was afraid that he had finally seen what I had suspected all along; that I wasn't enough. And he had decided to ghost me as that was the easy way out.

But why was he ghosting Hashirama?

Both of us had trouble sleeping that night. And all following nights. Every day, we phoned his secretary. It wasn't until a week later that she had some information.

"He is working from somewhere. He has hidden his location, but work is getting done."

"Can't you find out his location anyway?" I asked, irritated.

"We cannot tack his IP dress unless we use a hacker. And, since he's not missing, we cannot take such measurements. We will respect his wishes."

I sighed. And for the remainder of my time in Tokyo, I decided I would respect his wishes, too.

Tobirama

My favourite trousers were too big for me now.

Actually, all of my trousers were too big for me. I had bought all of them here, on Iceland, during the first week here after I had given up the idea of ever sending after my things from Tokyo and New York. So I had bought everything I thought I'd need; trousers, cardigans, underwear. That had been months ago. Now, nothing fit me. 

I sighed, closed my MacBook, also new, and went out on the balcony surrounding the entire second floor of the little cottage I had bought. It wasn't much, but it was fresh and clean and made of wood that still smelled like forest. I had bought it furnished; white linen couches, a wooden table, a red coffee machine.

The winter air on Iceland was just as crisp as I remembered. On a windy day, it felt as needles hammering down on your face. But today was a mild winter day, the snow covering the glaciers, mountains visible far away that in spring would turn into a green feast for the eyes. And there was nobody but me living here. The area was empty, and I didn't leave it except for once every week to do the one hour drive to Reykjavik to shop for groceries.

I leaned against the balcony, warmed by my blue knitted cardigan and thick jeans. I felt I would need a haircut the next time I was in the capital.

I wondered how Izuna was doing. I had cut off all possible ways of contact with him, my brother and my psychiatrist; my phone, my email, my social media. I had nobody else who would worry about my whereabouts as long as I kept my law firm going, which I still did with an iron fist. I hoped that they had found one another now I wasn't in the picture and stood in the way for them. The thought had stopped saddening me. Or so I tried to convince myself. 

One would have thought I had calmed down here, surrounded by only nature. But truth was, I worked more than ever and slept little. I could hardly eat, and the weight loss I experienced seemed to drive itself. Like a snowball running down a hill.

The chest pains were worse than ever, but now, they didn't scare me that much. I had it constantly, and at least once a day, it became so bad I could hardly breathe. But then, I just kept working until it went away. 

It was Christmas Day, but for me, it was just like any other day. It was not because I was alone on Iceland; it was because I was alone in general. The most I'd celebrated Christmas had been going out for a drink with Hashirama, but the past few years I had just worked. And I planned on spending this Christmas Day the same way.

Or so I thought.

When I opened my MacBook to look through some documents, I found I didn't understand a word. At first, I squinted my eyes, trying to see whether I had accidentally pressed a translate button. But no. It was definitely English. I just didn't understand what it said.

I looked at my watch. I didn't understand it either, but I knew the deadline for handing the document in to my client was approaching. I didn't have time for this. I didn't have time for any of this shit.

I forced my eyes over the page, but it was as if my brain had lost its inability to process the symbols in front of it into something comprehensible.

The chest pain worsened. It was nothing new; it was as it always was. No... No, this was different. This time, I couldn't work while having the panic attack at the same time. This time, I was wasting time.

I lay down, waiting for it to pass but it didn't. Ten minutes passed, fifteen, twenty, but nothing. My vision was becoming black. I felt my stomach scream for food; when had I last eaten? I didn't remember. When had I last had a glass of water?

I tried to stand up, but the blood rushes to my feet, so I came down on all for and crawled to my phone. It was a new number, and I used it only for work, only calling clients, never giving out my number and calling from an untraceable one myself . Now, I pressed in the digits I had learned by heart. I prayed he would answer even if not being able to see who was calling.

"Hello?" came Izuna's unmistakeable voice.

And I managed only two words.

"Help me."

Then, I lost consciousness.