Heavy Blood

21. Tobirama

Eleven months later

My footsteps echoed emptily in the giant cathedral, not matching the fullness in my heart. The sunlight outside was glistening through the stained glass windows, creating an exotic pattern that fell on the seats, the thick, red carpet along the aisle and on the altar.

There was a grand wedding to be held on the weekend. I loved wedding people, tying lives together, all of them unique couples with unique love stories and unique dynamics. And that was where some of the fullness in my heart came from. The past year, I'd worked hard to get us an allowance to wed same-gender couples, and a few months ago, it passed. Who would have known there were so many same-sex catholic couples in our city? The bookings for the summer were full, and twelve of them were same-sex. It made my heart sing. There had been a spread in the newspaper, and I had reluctantly agreed to being interviewed. Honestly because...

Are you reading this, Izuna?

I still thought about him every day. I wondered how he coped with his brother's death. I wondered how he got on at work. I wondered how his class was doing. I wondered how he coped with his unknown genetic status. 

I wondered if he'd met someone else.

I missed him. I missed him so. But I had chosen God. And in that, I rested.

I went up to the room that had been his for so long, the sheets now full of the smell of my cologne instead of his, and took off my clothes to shower. I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, pulled my fingers through my bleached hair. I loved the sensation of how damaged it was; the bleach made it thick and coarse. I had let it grow just the tiniest bit, so the part that grew from my neck now touched my shoulders, and it was now light blonde, not grey. I liked it a lot. I had also made a piercing though my right nipple. But my favourite part about myself was that I no longer painted the red stripes on me. I never told anyone, but they represented the self-beating I did with the discipline, but now I didn't need that representation anymore. I turned the water in the shower on, waited until it was scorching hot before I indulged.

As I came down, I jumped. Someone was sitting on the front row of the altar. The hair was long, cascading down the back, silky and smooth. The light from the windows made it hard to discern, but it was...

I ran to the figure. "Izuna!"

"Umm, no."

I felt my heart sink to the bottom of the ocean that was the love I still held for him as I realised it was Hashi. And...

"Dad."

"Hello, son."

I just stared. He had aged. I hadn't seen him since I was twenty, since before I became a priest. I looked at Hashi. He wouldn't meet my eyes. He looked incredibly sad.

"What owes me?" I asked. 

"Your mother", dad said. "She passed this morning."

I wanted for the ground to open up and swallow me whole. It didn't. "I'm sorry", was all I said.

"That's not the only reason I'm here", dad said. "I... I would like to make a confession." His glassy, blue eyes looked me straight into my eyes. "With you as a priest."

I was taken aback. I just stared at him. I really didn't felt like this, but I was not allowed to deny anyone. "I... I'll be right back."

I hurried up the stairs to the bathroom again, splashed cold water on my face. I leaned on the sink for a while. Then, I made a decision. I went to the bedroom, took off my Adidas trousers and hoodie, put on my priest robe, the long, purple collar now exchanged for a rainbow one to represent inclusivity. Then, I went down.

"Let's go", I said dryly, and walked to the confessional on the right side of the church. I sat behind it, my dad on the other side, so we couldn't see each other through the thick net. Of course, this wasn't as it happened under normal circumstances, when the person confessing was anonymous, but this was not normal circumstances.

"Spill it out."

I couldn't help it. My dad had called me horrible, horrible things, as had my mother. My mother's death pulled a little at my heart strings, at the cords holding the cardiac tissues together. But I felt extremely uneasy having my father there. Yet, if he was offended at my harsh invitation to confess, he didn't voice it.

"I've come to realise something..." I didn't take the bait, just waited for him to continue on his own accord. "When my wife lay in her deathbed, she started talking about things she regretted. And she..." My father's voice cracked; I'd never heard him in such despair. It felt weird, this man who'd always been an authority in my life soft and yielding on the other side of this physical barrier, that couldn't do anything to split the bond between our blood. "She regretted how she'd treated our own son. She regretted that we weren't open to his needs. When he was just a baby, he was so smart." I was taken aback. "He had one of those toys where you would put differently shaped bricks into differently shaped holes. He immediately knew to put the cylinder through the circle, the square through the square, and so on. Me and his mother were not as smart. We tried to put him through a hole that didn't fit his shape..." I had started intently listening. "We read an article about him. How hard he'd worked for inclusivity in the biggest catholic church in the city. And we were proud. So proud.. But by then, it was too late..." I could hear my father cry. "It was too late. I told my other son, Hashirama, about their mother, laying in her death bed. He came, and told us about a boy named Izuna." A fire started burning in my throat then. "A lovely boy. A boy whom my son loved. But he gave him up for God." Tears were streaming down my face. "And when I met my son, only minutes ago, I saw a strong, confident man with a purpose, with a full heart... But there is something missing. There is something missing from his life. And it makes all of my fears come true. Mine, and my late wife's."

I stood up then, walked away, leaving my dad at the confessional. I walked back and forth, back and forth, putting one hand on my forehead, the other at my waist. This was too much... This was all too much for me to handle. My father arriving, my mother's death, my father saying both of them regret how they treated me, and now the wound named Izuna being cut open all over again. Just minutes ago, I had been excited about vacuuming the altar for the upcoming wedding. I'm not strong enough for this... I can't-

Suddenly, the main door to the cathedral opened. A light blasted through, and in it, I saw two figures holding hands, like two angels. I gaped. Slowly, they walked forwards. The scene was so angelic, so breath-taking that I wondered if I was going to meet God himself now as well. Oh, dear, I wasn't prepared, what did I tell Him about that time I fucked Izuna at the altar and we drank the wine and-

"DADDY TOBIRAMA!!" The voice of a little girl.

"Shh! It's Father Senju!" Another little girl.

I almost died of relief. I couldn't help but smile. I felt like their presence was exactly what I needed at this point. 

"Angelica. Lisa. To what do I owe the pleasure?"