Unfathomable

32.

Five years later

Madara:

I sighed, trying to find a yellow bell pepper that wasn't bad. I had this thing of trying to find the ugliest vegetables in the grocery store, as I wanted to save the ones no-one else wanted. But these bell peppers were just... Not Good. I could take a red one, but I was stubborn. I had decided on a yellow one, so changing colour would feel like defeat.

My birthday was in two days, and Izuna was coming over so I didn't have to spend it alone. I was so grateful for that. It had been hard work at first, me and Izuna trying to communicate again. It was stiff over text at first, but instead of ignoring it, we talked about it, joked about it, accepted it. It all changed when we started recording voice messages to send to each other. Somehow, that worked, suiting the two of us and the people we were now much better than texting. Izuna had started it, being out snowboarding at our parents', making it impossible to text, but so eager to say something about his new snowboard that he decided to record a message while actually snowboarding. I answered with a voice message as I figured he couldn't read my answer if he was out. And on that note, it was. We had an ongoing conversation beyond our wildest dreams. And we were brothers again.

I still struggled a little with being by myself, but I knew it was for the best. Still living in the villa by the beach helped, as opposed to what people believed. To me, it wasn't connected to the bad memories, but to the warmth I had created there for myself. As Hashi fell deeper and deeper into depression, coming home to that villa had been what saved me. In the end, he wasn't available, so it felt like coming home to an empty house that still always filled my heart, somehow. I think it was because I loved where I lived so much. So now Hashi wasn't there, there really wasn't that big of a difference. It sounded easy, but it had torn my heart into a thousand pieces. But whereas Izuna's paraplegia had affected me badly mentally, I had stayed strong during this. I had stayed strong because I knew the separation was the right thing to do.

It had started after Izuna's and Tobirama's wedding, half a year after me and Izuna got in touch again. The first thing I noticed was how Hashi had drowned himself in work. He didn't participate in any of the activities he loved; running, the gym, walks with me, going on coffee dates, solving crosswords or cooking. He just worked, causing him to lose copious amounts of weight. I noticed his hair became thinner and dull, and he didn't laugh as much anymore. He was still affectionate, kissing the top of my head when I stood in the kitchen, desperately cooking something calorie-dense for him, sleeping close to me, but I noticed he was becoming almost clingy. I liked clingy, but in Hashi, it was a warning sign to me as it was so unusual for him. Then, he'd deteriorated into a deep, deep depression. We had insane fights where I begged him to seek help but he refused. He became nasty to me, then instantly regretting it, saying it felt as though his brain wanted to push me away so that he could be ill in peace. It went on for a year, and I had no thought of breaking up with him. None at all. It was actually Tobirama who made me come to my senses when he visited us with Izuna. He asked me to go on a walk with him, and we did, arm in arm, along the grey beach, a soft rain falling on us.

"I see what he's doing to you", he said.

"He's not doing anything to me", I said, defensive. "He's just depressed."

"Madara, look", he sighed. "I know you quite well now", he begun, which was true; we'd bonded and spoke on the phone, just him and me, at least once a week for the past year, and we came to each other for advice on different things. We were fast friends. "I know you think it would be terrible of you to leave him at this point because it's not his fault, that he's sick. And that's true. He is sick. He can't help it. Even getting help at this point seems to be impossible for him. He must want it, and he can't force himself to want it." I looked at Tobirama, curious as though where he was going with this. "But him being sick and not being able to help it is not equal to you having to stay. I see how your life is slowly getting ruined." He stopped, put his fingertips to my cheek. "I love you, my dear. The only people I love more are Izuna and Hashirama. But still, I want you to leave him. I hate seeing what it's doing to you. All the fire you had within you is gone. How is it better that two people go under, than if one does?"

Tears were streaming down my face by then, and I took Tobirama's hand, still on my face. He'd planted something within me, something I couldn't stop from growing no matter how long I refused to water it. Still, it took me half a year before I finally asked Hashi to leave. I had been afraid he would try to shame me, guilt-trip me into letting him stay, but when I dropped the bomb, the old, real Hashi shone through. He'd just nodded, packed and left. I hadn't heard from him since. He changed his Facebook status from "in a relationship" to nothing one hour later, and I felt a pang in my heart, but also relief. I phoned Tobirama and cried, Izuna being away competing, and he came to me and helped me renovate the villa to make it feel more mine and less ours, painting the walls, the ceiling, switching out some furniture, donating what belonged to Hashi but he hadn't brought with him. Three years had passed, and I had no idea where he was, or what he was doing. Or, I knew from Facebook he was in Russia again, but nothing else as he never updated or got tagged. And I realised I didn't yearn for any information.

I had gotten used to this life, and I was happy now I stood in the grocery store, chasing bell peppers. Suddenly someone bumped into me, and I dropped the yellow bell pepper, the only one that looked okay, on the floor. Fuck! Defeat!

"Sorry!" the person said.

"Look out! That was the only good bell pepper and now I have none! How am I going to make pad thai without a bell pepper?"

"Who the fuck has bell pepper in their pad thai?" the person said cockily, smiling a crooked smile.

I looked at him, brows furrowed. He had longish short, blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, a tall, gangly body dressed in a leather jacket and blue jeans, both of which looked expensive. He had a smile in his mischievous eyes and a lip piercing that lifted his face to the skies. His nose was covered in freckles and he looked oddly familiar.

Apparently, he thought so, too, because something in his eyes changed. "Oh, my God..." he whispered.

And then, it struck me.

"Lucas..."