I was on autopilot.

The next worship service, I felt like I was a ghost or myself. As if something else was in my body, controlling it.

The man was there, at the worship service, and I tried to anchor myself to him.

It worked. He could anchor me. It surprised me. With Madara alive, how did I feel towards this man? Did I feel any differently? And if I felt differently, what kind of man did that make me?  I was beginning to get tired. So, so tired. At the end of the service, I didn't even have the energy to keep track of where he was. How could I have performed such a daunting task before? It seemed impossible even to have the people right in front of me in view.

I finished the service. I didn't make myself available to speak to the audience, but stayed at the altar. When I believe everyone were gone, I slumped down on the altar, leaned forwards, leaned my head in my hands. I was trembling. Low blood sugar, I realised; I had forgotten to eat since the morning.

Someone cleared their throat above me. I jerked and looked up. The black-haired man stood right in front of me. He looked very worried when he saw my face, and I realised it must be because he saw I was crying. He hesitated, but then gave me the note he held in his hand.

"Sorry", I said, taking it from him. "And thank you."

I didn't know if I could deal with this man's love problems at the moment, but I couldn't tell him that.

Then, out of nowhere, he sat down next to me.

No... No, please. This meant I was going to have to open the letter. I planned on saving it for later, when I was in a better place.

But then, the man put his arms around me.

I froze. The man's cardigan felt pleasant against my cheek, I noticed. I leaned in and snivelled, making myself small as he held me. For a long time, we just sat there, enjoying the silence of the cathedral, the soft smell of the carpet at the altar.

"Thank you", I said.

Later that evening, I opened his note, and my heart sank. It was exactly as dating as I thought it would be. 

Next week. Next week I will confess to the man I love what I've withheld for so long.

I'm loving you. I'm losing you as well.

I spent the evening searching Madara's name. Now I knew his last name, I could easily search him. Turned out he was from out of town, which was why I hadn't been able to search for any him here. But there was nothing else about him; no address, no phone number, no job. And I was desperate to find him.

I picked up my phone. I could just phone Izuna, I realised. I could just explain everything to him that I hadn't been able to explain when he told me about his brother, and I had realised who it was, because I had been so shocked. I could tell him that Madara was the man in the confessional I was madly in love with and that I wanted to find him.

But even Izuna couldn't find him, I remembered.

I brought Izuna's number on the screen, and was just about to phone him, anyway, to share everything, just because I was desperate to share.

But then, I thought about Madara, and the man in the cathedral.

Delete it, a voice within me said. Delete his number. You two will destroy each other.

I didn't.

But I did delete the heart behind Izuna's name.

I never heard from Izuna again.

And he never heard from me.

"Don't write 'difficult'. My father's voice as I wrote my first job application as a teen. "Nothing is ever 'difficult'. You turn it around to 'challenging' and not only that; you make it a challenge you've already mastered.

It had been helpful, the technique. I had gotten many job interviews in my youth by turning all cons to pros. Even in my letter to the cathedral I had written when I had applied to become head priest here all those years ago, I had used the word challenging.

But nothing was challenging now. Everything was difficult.

I tried to find some calm in my life, some glee, the same one I had found when Tobirama took me on the boat trip. But I didn't succeed.

I chastised myself. I chastised myself for not being happy that Madara was alive. But I couldn't help but wonder what had happened. Had he used me? Grown tired of me? Found someone else? It hurt. It hurt badly.

Even seeing the man at the worship services didn't help now that he was going to confess his love for another man. The next worship service loomed heavy above me, and I took a deep breath before I went upstairs.

I went up the main aisle, a big crowd gathering. Some had even gathered in the back, standing up; my worship services were getting popular.

And he was there.

He looked lovelier than ever, wearing a big, light blue shirt that lay unbuttoned over a light blue t-shirt, his black hair slicked covering part of his one eye.

And as he looked at me, I felt that jolt of recognition again that I had already felt so many times.

Haven't I felt that jolt when looking at someone else recently? I shook the thought away. 

I did my preach. I talked to the people. And he was standing there, in the middle of the aisle, the sun painting him though the colourful windows making him look magical. He reached his hand out, handing me his note, his note where he would tell me it was over, that he had confessed his feelings for the other man.

Everyone around us disappeared, the sounds emitted from them muffled as if me and the man were in a bubble, but they were in the sea. I came to him, reached my hand out, took it.

May I read it while you watch?

The man shook his head; I realised I had read that out loud.

He left, and I stood alone, looked at the note.

It was folded twice. I unfolded it once, and there was a text.

I'm going to confess now.

I frowned. What did he mean? Wasn't he going to confess to that man he loved? I opened the note a second time.

But as soon as I opened the letter, before I had even read his world, I realised.

I realised what that jolt of recognition I felt whenever he looked at me was.

And I realised that I had felt that same jolt of recognition when looking at someone else recently.

Izuna... He has Izuna's eyes. I'm recognising Izuna when I look at him. And I recognised him last time I looked at Izuna. 

But I needn't had realised anything about his eyes, because he confessed.

He confessed to me.

In his note.

I am Madara.

I sunk down to my knees.