I pulled my softest, most comfortable sweater over my head. It was black, thick, with an inside that reminded me of marshmallows. I smelled it, tried to imagine Izuna's smell on it. Not his cologne, which did smell fantastic, but his smell. A little bit like earth and something lemony.

I went to the kitchen, opened the drawer where I had cat food. Betty still spent most of her days behind the washing machine in the bathroom. When I went there, she demonstratively walked out, and when I went out, she went back in again. I was tempted to feed her at her usual place in the kitchen to show her she couldn't boss me around, but thought better of it and put her food behind the washing machine each morning and evening; I wanted to show her I respected her need to distance herself from me. Even so, she refused to eat for a good hour or so, which worried me; she had a very sensitive stomach and once, when I had only had her a little while, she almost died because of it.

As I put my light summer jacket on, a marine blue, short thing from Tommy Hilfiger that I had looked forward to wearing next to Izuna as we walked hand-in-hand in the summer sun eating ice cream, I tried to conjure up in my mind what on earth had happened that day. It wasn't the first time I had tried remembering. Rather, it was the hundredth time, but there was still nothing. I had absolutely no memory of what had happened before or during I'd gone berserk in my apartment. I didn't even remember how Izuna had gotten into my home. The last thing I remembered from that day was being in the shower, probably about an hour or so before Izuna came. 

I had finally gone to bed after he'd left, and spent the entire day after cleaning, making up a list of all the vases I had broken so I could make new ones. I knew my own worth as an artist, and realised I had broken ceramics worth thousands and thousands of dollars. 

I tried not to think about it or I would break just like my vases had.

I stepped out of my apartment, still deep in thought. Not remembering what had happened scared me more than I could describe. I thought about how I had lost it when I poured wax on Izuna, burning my own hand until he used our safe word, not for himself but for me. I thought about when I had lost it and physically abused the brunette. And now this...

I looked up on the trees as I walked through the city centre, hands in my pockets. I needed to get professional help. And I was scared of trying to remember so vigorously that I conjured up images in my mind that weren't true, just because my soul was so desperate to fill in the gaps. What if I thought I remembered was something much worse than the truth? Or worse, what if what I thought I remembered was much milder?

I came to the hotel, a small but beautiful and picturesque one where I was meeting Will to see how he filmed. The hotel was full of pastel colours and flowers; I knew he would never chose this hotel to film with me. I thought that this film might be soft and careful, which made me feel relief; maybe, it wouldn't be so bad. I took my phone out, called Will, got the floor and room number. I came in.

"I never thought I'd see this day."

It was Will, greeting me.

But I was too busy taking in what I saw.

The room was amazing, in a soothing pastel blue and full of dried flowers and dark wooden furniture. The cameras destroyed the atmosphere a little, but there were no lights; the natural light coming from the big windows was enough.

And next to the bed stood a very, very familiar man, almost as tall as me, muscular, with brown hair and glasses.

The nerd I'd seen fuck Izuna when I had searched him.

He smiled a crooked smile at me.

"Are you gonna join?"

Absolutely fucking not, I though.

"Good idea, John", said Will. "But no. He's going to assist me."

I was having second thoughts about this. I suddenly felt a desire to leave. The hairs at the nape of my neck were standing up? 

"Who is?" I heard a voice.

And my soul froze to ice.

I couldn't breathe. I was convinced the tips of my hair and my eyelashes had frozen over, I felt so cold. I felt myself starting to tremble, my skin becoming covered in little pearls of cold sweat.

Izuna...

When he saw me, he once again looked like he couldn't place me, just like that time he'd seen me in the library, recognising me at once but his brain not quite believing his eyes. But whereas his face had broken out in the sunniest smile the last time, his face now changed into panic, and I saw that he couldn't breathe, too.

What in the world have I done to you?

I wanted to flee. I wanted to turn around and run. Never in a million years had I even considered this possibility. I looked at Will, who was looking at me.

"Anything amiss?"

I clenched my fists, regained my ability to breathe, even if it was long, ragged breaths.

You motherfucker, I thought. You Goddamn, filthy scum. You knew. 

He knew. He knew. He wanted to deepen the wedge between me and Izuna, his two favourite lover boys, so he could have us in the same film again without the connection between us showing. That was why he'd suggested this date.

"I want you to be harsh on him, John", Will said, not even looking at Izuna.

I wasn't sure Izuna had even heard because he looked like he was considering running away just as much as I had been when I saw John.

But not anymore.

I wanted to believe it was because I wanted to be able to protect him. That I wanted to be able to ensure he was treated justly. My intentions were, however, not even close to being that noble. Because what I was craving was knowledge, to know what truly happened between them now I knew they would fuck. I couldn't just go home. I would break. I would get into that state of no control again, breaking things.

With my soul in a state of paralysis, I sat down. Izuna was cold, unwilling. Will loved it, believing Izuna was acting. That John man seemed to love it as well. When Izuna turned his head away from a kiss, John grabbed his face harshly, forced his mouth open, shoved his tongue in.

Izuna doesn't enjoy being kissed like that...

John tore his clothes off, Izuna trying to prevent him. He turned Izuna over on all four, and shoved himself in without any sort of preparation. Izuna screamed, and I clenched my fists. Tears streamed down Izuna's face and he started to bleed as John thrusted. At some point, John got tired of Izuna's screams because he put his hand over his mouth. Izuna bit him, but John just laughed.

I didn't know if John thought it was acting. But John either knew it wasn't, or believed it was which wasn't enough.

This wasn't a film set.

This was a rape scene.

And that was when I caught his eyes.

That was when I caught Izuna's eyes.

He looked at me, his brows furrowed in pain, his eyes glassy. His eyes were begging, begging me.

And in that moment I realised he wished it was me behind him, because then he could've asked me to stop, and I would have listened.

Not this time, I thought. I won't be a coward this time.

I stood up.

I went to the bed, ignoring Will's angry calls.

I grabbed John's shoulders.

Stay... Tobirama, stay put. Don't disappear. Don't lose control.

I felt my mind starting to slip away as my hand clenched into a fist, but I didn't let it. I didn't beat John up but just shoved him to the side. I took a blanket in my hands and wrapped Izuna in it, afraid to directly touch his skin. He was bleeding so much, it stained through the fabric.

As I sat next to him, he leaned into my chest and burst into tears.

Will was screaming at me.

John was screaming at me.

"Go fuck yourselves", I said calmly. "Seriously, go."

I don't know where they went but suddenly they weren't there anymore, and I would understand afterwards how scary I must have looked.

I held Izuna as he cried and cried and cried.

He smelled a little bit like earth and something lemony.

I stepped into my hallway, echoing as empty as my soul.

I took off my marine jacket, dropped it on the hallway.

I pulled my sweater over my head, dropped that on the ground as well. I needed to wash it; it was covered in Izuna's blood.

I walked into the shower, turned it on, washed my hair, my face, my body.

I started trembling, sunk down to my knees, crying.

I laid down, scream-cried, wishing I would drown.

After an eternity, I found some strength to turn the shower off.

I stood up, took my warm towel from the hanger, dried myself.

And that's when I realised something was terribly, terribly wrong.

"Betty?"

She hadn't left her spot behind the washing machine as she always did when I showered. 

My instincts took over my brain, preventing me from panicking. I bent down, towel around my hips, looked behind the washing machine.

And there she was, panting, suffering, clearly in immense pain.

"Betty, shit!!"

And I realised exactly how much she hated me. She would rather stay behind the washing machine than ask me for help.

I reached out for her, but she hissed half-heartedly and tried shoving herself away from me.

That's when I noticed the floor was full of blood.

"Betty, please!!" I screamed, panicking.

I shoved the washing machine away then, grabbed her tail and pulled until I could get hold of her, took her into my arms. She clawed and bit at me, but she was so exhausted I could easily avert it. I ran to my bedroom, put her on my bed, put whatever piece of clothing on that I could find.

Then, I took her into my embrace and ran out.