One dream in Paris

27. Apple sky (Hashirama)

I became good friends with Tobirama's lawyer.

I believed he saw me as a remain of Tobirama, our names being so similar, me being the new owner of his restaurant. I believed I saw him as a remain of Tobirama, a man who'd known him since he was a child. But we liked each other nonetheless.

Him and his wife invited me and Madara over for dinner from time to time, which we accepted, and gladly so;  both Tom and his wife were exceptional at cooking even measured by our standards.

And we soon found that both Tom and his lawyer wife were two very open people. The first time we were over, they asked us what our relationship was, and what our relationship with Tobirama had been. We saw no point in being anything but honest so we told them we'd all been in a relationship together.

"A trouple?" Tom's wife had asked, her eyes glittering. "I read that in my gossip magazine last week!"

She seemed utterly delighted, and me and Madara couldn't help but smile and take each other's hands.

"Do you think you'll want another third person now?" Tom asked. "Sorry", he then added in a hurry. "It's none of my business."

"Don't worry!" Madara said, munching Hasselback potatoes. This was the most content I'd seen him since Tobirama died. "We'd love to answer."

He looked at me then, and I looked at him, both of us suddenly acutely aware that we actually hadn't discussed the topic. Actually, the three of us had never come to the point where we defined us as a couple, and me and Madara hadn't talked about what we were. I was suddenly desperate to talk about it with him.

Then, Madara shook his head, taking me back to the question we'd been asked.

"No. It was us three. Now there's two left and that's that."

I felt such relief, I had to bite my tongue not to throw myself over him in a bone-crushing hug there and then. 

I tried leading the kitchen. I really did.

I was good at it, mind. The problem was, I kept getting flashbacks to how Tobirama had stood there, doing exactly what I now did, and I kept panicking.

"Delilah! Sauce please! Good, together with Mahmoud. Good, you did really well, you-"

And out of nowhere, I would fall to my knees, crying.

The entire kitchen wanted to pause then, but Madara wouldn't let them because he knew I wouldn't let them.

"Just give him some time!" he exclaimed. "Delilah, we can't afford to waste that delightful sauce of yours! God, shit, sorry, that sounded wrong. Anyway, come and plate!"

I appreciated his ability to maintain his humor endlessly. 

I noticed all of us in the kitchen avoided walking on the spot where we'd found Tobirama. An outsider wouldn't notice, but I did. Several times, however, I found Madara, who was usually very, very good at focussing (if there was a diagnosis that was the opposite of ADHD I swear to God he had it) just standing next to the spot staring at it.

I didn't have the heart to snap him out of it.

"When will you take your deal of the will?" I asked once when we were at my place.

It was an elephant in a very small room we rarely talked about. When we met up with Tom in his office for the first time, he'd told us about a particular part of the will he hadn't mentioned before. Tobirama had written that, even if I was now the owner of his restaurant, Madara was to own half once he "felt ready". I hoped Tobirama's spirit was in there so he could see me face palm internally. What were you thinking? He will refuse. Couldn't you wish anything more realistic for him so he won't feel bad about not fulfilling it?