Sundance

18. Jack-o-lantern (Tobirama)

I wetted a paper towel in the luxurious basin of the sink in my hotel room, leaned forwards to polish my shoe a little. A strand of my hair, nowadays slightly longer and bleached slightly more than a few years ago, tickled my nose, and I blew it out of the way.

You need to start using ChapStick, Tobirama, I scolded myself; the Californian air was no-joke and dried out my skin badly. I was terrible at taking care of it, causing it to look like I was covered in a light layer of flour.

I looked at myself in the mirror. I had never really had any opinion about my appearance. I knew I wasn't conventionally handsome, but that I had a quirky look that made me desired by enough people for me not to worry. In all honesty, my slightly too long arms and broad shoulders contrasted to my slim legs had kind of bothered me, but I had either been too busy or too depressed to have time or motivation to look myself in the mirror. Now, when I was neither, I did have that time, though.

I had some crow's feet at the corners of my eyes nowadays that I had grown to love. My grey eyes seemed to have deepened as soon as I asked my hairdresser to bleach the shit out of my hair. My physique had become even stronger as my love for swimming had grown, and I had started eating more to prevent weight loss. My grey shirt strained pleasantly over my arms; my black trousers hung loosely on my hips. As I moved, I could feel the familiar but yet exotic sensation of my piercing against the fabric of my clothes; I would never tire.

I had worked all day. Based in London, my company always offered us one month of working abroad, and this time had been in Los Angeles. I had so far seen Bahamas, Paris, Oslo, Seoul and South Africa thanks to my job. At forty, I was catching up with all the traveling you usually did in your twenties but that I hadn't been able to do due to my mental condition, and I was finally seeing the world. I didn't particularly like travelling, preferring the comfort of my own bed, but for every new place I saw, I was filled with a sense of relief that came with doing something that you felt you should do.

This was the last weekend of our month abroad, and all ten of us had decided to go to Las Vegas. We had left Los Angeles Thursday evening, and today was Friday, entailing we had worked all day, but for the evening, we were going out to a casino. I didn't like casinos, but I was good at playing, and I saw no harm in impressing my colleagues. Tomorrow, it would be made up as we went to see the Grand Canyon, and in the evening we would watch a Cirque du Soleil show.

My first time seeing a circus show since...

I wasn't that excited about that, either, because I knew nothing could beat the last show I had watched with Izuna's fire archery. I had mixed feeling about his fire archery due to the injury it had caused him, to be honest, but nobody could deny that the show and his number in particular had been stunning.

Not for the first time, I wondered what he was doing now, in this particular moment. Was he out with his friends? Was he making instant noodles to eat while studying something? He could literally be doing anything, seeing I had no idea where he was nowadays.

I had stayed in touch with Hashirama for a year after they left for the States. Soon after they left, he had called me in a panic, asking me if Izuna was with me. When I had said no, he had cried; I had never heard the man so panicked. Apparently, Izuna had just left. And Hashirama's and Madara's first thought had been he had gone to be with me. I assured them he hadn't, that I was in my apartment in London with nobody for company but myself. For a week, we had waited, waited for Izuna to contact me, to arrive at my doorstep. I never called him, but I knew Hashirama and Madara did, but Izuna didn't pick up. Five days after he disappeared, they told me his number was disconnected; he'd changed it. For some reason, I wasn't worried. I knew Izuna well enough to understand he needed an entirely fresh start, and I knew him well enough to know why.