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Madara:

I phoned him eleven times.

Mum phoned him twelve times.

Dad phoned him eight times.

Sonia phoned him fourteen times.

Tobirama phoned him seventy-eight times.

There was no answer.

Hell, there wasn't even a signal, which was a bad sign because it meant that either one, the impact had been so bad his phone had broken, or two, Izuna was buried so deep in snow there could be no signal to or from his phone. The thought of both of those scenarios filled me with so much dread, I vomited several times, only bile as I hadn't eaten anything but crackers and orange juice for days.

We had to physically hold Tobirama back so he didn't throw himself off the mountain in search of his boyfriend, whom he loved so much. We called the police and the rescuing force, and they were searching with two helicopters with heat cameras. Tobirama wanted to go down and dig with his bare hands. We told him that wasn't possible. He wouldn't have it.

And I put the lid on. I just put the lid on and disappeared in all that guilt. I couldn't even take a glimpse in the cauldron because I knew it would consume me and cause me to do something against myself that I could never, ever regret or take back. And I couldn't have that. I couldn't have any of that, not if there was anything, even the tiniest thing I could do in order for us to find Izuna. We spoke to some witnesses. None had seen what happened to Izuna, but some had seen him throw himself off the steep and then, five minutes later, there had been a massive avalanche. Some veteran skiers told us it was the worst avalanche they'd ever seen. I vomited again at this. Sonia stood by my side all the time, her arm around me, and I didn't understand why. Don't you understand? I wanted to scream at her. Don't you understand it's my fault?! But there wasn't time for that now. I couldn't let that in. This wasn't about me. This was about Izuna.

For hours, they looked, but there was no sign. The wait was agony. I started to take sides with Tobirama on going down there and dig. Anything was better than this fucking nothingness. But of course, that was impossible. Tobirama... He'd closed himself. He'd become a shell. He was just sitting there, in his baggy, blue, torn jeans and a T-shirt for an hour before anyone even noticed and gave him a blanket, not even shivering, not moving a muscle. His face was a mask. He wasn't crying. His gibberish mumbling had ceased. That boy had just shut himself off and it was impossible to contact him. There was only one thing he did; once every two minutes, he lifted his phone, dialed Izuna's number, waited for a signal that never came, then hung up. It was heartbreaking. You did this, I told myself. You did this.

In the end, after four hours of just phoning over and over, he threw his phone away and screamed, the first sound he'd emitted for hours. The phone landed at my feet.

I looked at it. I looked at it for a long time. I lifted it up hesitantly. The lock screen was the most adorable photo of him and my little brother, lips pressed together while smiling, wearing their snowboarding clothes and helmets, a blissful blue sky in the background. My eyes filled up with tears for the first time that day. With trembling hands, I tried to unlock it, and to my surprise it wasn't protected by a passcode. My fingers were trembling so bad, I struggled getting into Tobirama's contacts. I mis-pressed several time before I managed to click on the contact I wanted. I didn't even think before acting. There was only two signals before someone picked up.

"Tobes?"

"Hashi!" I croaked.

And I broke down crying.








Hashi arrived that same evening, having leased a private jet and a taxi here. He stepped out of the cab and I saw he was wearing the same caramel-colored coat from last time. I walked to his cab as he closed the door, a weekend bag slung over his shoulder. And as he saw me, he held his arms out, and I ran into them, threw myself into his arms, and let him hold me while I cried and cried and cried. He held one arm around my shoulder blade, the hand of the other arm on my head, and I clung to his waist. He murmured comforting words into my hear. I couldn't hear them, but his voice was like melted dark sugar to my ears, soft and sweet and lovely.

"We got him", I suddenly heard someone shout, and there was a murmur of arousal among the hundred people or so who had gathered. "We got him!"

A police officer had spoken, and I didn't comprehend him. It was just so sudden. I turned to the hillside and heard the sound of one of the helicopters arriving over the steep in the dark, its lights blinding, the sound deafening, the wind from its blades making mine and Hashi's hair intermingle. As if in a dream, I saw the helicopter land, and for the first time in hours, I saw Tobirama stand up on his feet. He fell once, then got himself up again on wobbly legs. And as a medic jumped out of the helicopter, a tiny and limp figure in his arms, he took off and ran and threw himself over Izuna, not caring at all about the words of warning that he should be careful.

It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever witnessed. The medic saw no other option than to let Izuna go for a while, and Tobirama sunk down to his knees, Izuna in his arms, hugging him close to his body. Is he... I saw Tobirama's shoulders shake. No... Please no!

I felt Hashi take my hand, entwine our fingers and squeeze. I squeezed back. "No..."

"Madara..."

"No!"

The helicopter driver had turned the engines off, and I saw the medic kneel. "I need to take over from here, Sir. We need to get him to hospital." Wait... Did that mean... "He's still alive."

There was a cheer all around us, people hugging each other and crying. My mother and father, standing respectfully behind Tobirama, bless them, hugged each other close. I sunk down to my knees and hid my face in my hands.

Hashirama Senju kneeled beside me and held me in his arms.

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