There was a knock on the creak of the door opening...Voices... Misaki listened through the dull haze of half-consciousness, trying to drag himself into wakefulness.
"Where is he?" a voice demanded. That voice…that voice…Usami…sama? He thought weakly. No…I must be hallucinating. No one's there. I'm alone…no one's coming for me.
"Who?" his master's grating voice retorted.
"The boy! Misaki!"
"That's none of your business."
"I want to buy him."
"…He's not for sale."
"120 million yen, in cash. I have it right here." Silence. "Let me see him."
"Misaki! Get dressed and come out!" his master's voice called. The boy rolled off the bed, collapsed twice before managing to get stable on his feet, and pulled on some clothes from the closet. Weakly, he staggered out into the hall. Akihiko stood there, staring in horror and shock at his state. He winced and looked away, the memories of all those nights coming back to him in full from the sight of the man's face.
"Do yourself a favor – take the money and give me the kid, before I resort to less savory methods of protecting him from you, you bastard." Akihiko set down a briefcase and walked over to the boy. "Misaki…It's me, Usami-san…"
"Please don't make me look at you," Misaki pleaded softly.
"Shhhh, you don't have to do anything," the author assured him gently. "May I pick you up? You look weak. I'm going to take you away from here."
"Y-you are?"
"Yes, Misaki. I'm going to keep you safe." The author shot a disgusted glare at the man, picked up the teen, and started to leave. "If you don't accept the money, I will simply use it for other means of liberating the boy."
"I accept the money." The door slammed shut behind the author.
"I'm taking you to a hospital right now." Misaki kept his eyes shut, if he couldn't see Akihiko, the man's warm, his strength, his gentle grip could comfort him. He leaned his face into the author's broad chest.
"Don't leave me."
"I won't. I'm not going to leave you alone for even a second, okay? I'll be with you the entire time, but we have to get you to a hospital, now, okay?"
"O-okay…" He rushed the boy down the steps of the apartment building and to his car. Gently, he deposited him in the passenger's seat and buckled him in before getting in the driver's seat. "Usami-san…h-he…he made me look…look at a picture of you…while doing so many things to me…"
"I'm so sorry. Oh, Misaki, I'm sorry. I should've thought to just buy you sooner. I should've protected you. I'm so…so sorry, Misaki." The author reached over and took his hand. His fingers were cold, but they were large and comforting, decidedly gentle even in their anxiety. "I promise I'm going to do everything I can do make things better for you." Misaki nodded, leaning his head against the window, and dropped into unconsciousness.
When he awoke, he was in a bed. He groaned and opened his eyes, everything was white. A large, cool hand encompassed one of his own. He glanced sideways and then away, a bolt of fear running through him. He missed the pain expression on the author's face as he did so.
"Are you okay?" the author asked softly. "The doctor says you've been malnourished and lost a lot of blood…apparently you're suffering from some lesions and pretty bad bruising, too."
"I-I'm okay, now."
"I saw the pictures…of what that man did to you. Misaki, I'm so sorry."
"It's not…your fault."
"I should've acted sooner. I…I should've…I don't know done something. When you didn't show up that first day, I started asking around other clubs – thinking he'd moved, but I couldn't find you. Then I started trying to look up where he lived – of course, he didn't keep you in his apartment, so it took a while to track down another place he owned, and by that time it had just been so long…I was sure you were dead already. Misaki, I was so scared."
"Why…all this…for me?" Akihiko lifted the boy's hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against his knuckles.
"Is it so wrong to want to help you?"
"It's just…no one else…has."
"No, they've wanted to. I know there are people who want to, but they just…don't have the resources I do." Misaki's eyes drifted shut, again.
"Thank you. I…I don't know…what to say."
"You don't have to say anything, just rest, for now, okay?"
"Okay…you won't go anywhere…will you?"
"No. I'll stay right here. I promise." He held the boy's hand until he fell asleep again. Then, with a heavy sigh, he released it and leaned back in his chair. A little later, a man in a police uniform came in. They'd already gotten Akihiko's statement and asked a few probing questions, but now that they'd confirmed Misaki to be the same as the missing person from ten years ago, they had some more questions. He sat down in a chair beside Akihiko and took out a notepad and pen.
"Can you walk us through exactly how you met Misaki, again?"
"Yes, I was at a bar called Shangri-La. I met Misaki there and thought he was a little young, especially because he was working as a…well…he was…an entertainer…not to mention he looked terrified. I got his name and later I saw him leaving with another man. I looked up his name and after a bit of searching, I came up with some old newspaper report about a missing persons case, a boy, named Takashi Misaki. Of course, I immediately thought it might be the same person – not to mention the lead suspect was the man I'd seen him with earlier, Fukui Keiji. I confronted him about it and found out he was the same. I went to the police once, and they just…turned the other way, as it were. I continued to visit him to spare him as much as I could, but then he stopped showing up at the bar."
"So…?"
"So then I started trying to find out where Fukui lived and where he'd be keeping Misaki. I called in some favors with some friends I have in the journalism department, and they helped me get the information, then I went and took Misaki away from there. He was like this when I found him."
"Your bank records show you withdrew 120 million yen, today."
"Yes, that was to buy Fukui's cooperation."
"So you bought Misaki."
"Call it what you want, I did what it took to get him out of there. Any later and he might've been dead, by now. And like I said before, the police weren't exactly helpful."
"Very well. We are going to contact his brother, Takashi Takahiro. He is the boy's legal guardian, and you will be free to leave, after that." And with that, the police officer stood and left. Akihiko nodded slowly. Am I just going to leave? I guess it'll be fine, once he's with his brother, right? He reached out and brushed his fingers against the boy's sunken cheek. It's going to be okay, now, Misaki…
It was around an hour or so later that a flustered young man came in, probably in his late twenties, black hair and confused grey eyes. He stopped in the doorway to Misaki's room and cleared his throat awkwardly. Akihiko looked up at him and stood.
"I'm Usami Akihiko."
"And that…that…"
"That's your brother." The man took a stumbling step forward, a look of utter disbelief on his face.
"I thought he was dead."
"I know."
"The police told me…about what happened to him…i-it's all my fault. I was supposed to take care of him. And I let him get kidnapped and…and abused," Takahiro whispered, walking over to stand by the boy's bedside. "God, look at him…he's half dead. He's…" he trailed off, tears rising to his eyes. Akihiko took a few steps back to give him his privacy. Misaki groaned slightly, stirring from his sleep. His eyes cracked open. "Misaki?" the man asked tentatively. Now the teen's eyes flew wide open.
"Usami-sama?! Usa-?" his voice cut off as he stared around in blatant fear. Akihiko came forward and took his hand, laying his free hand over the boy's eyes.
"I'm right here," he assured him gently. "I'm going to remove my hand, okay?"
"O-okay." Akihiko removed his hand and Misaki turned his gaze to Takahiro.
"Misaki, this is your brother, Takahiro."
"Nii…san?"
"Misaki…I'm so sorry. Misaki, I…I thought you were dead." Tears began to roll down Takahiro's cheeks.
"Nii-san…Y-you're here."
"I came as soon as the police called." The boy flinched as his brother reached out to touch his cheek. "It's me, Misaki, I'm not going to hurt you."
"S-sorry."
"Don't be sorry," Akihiko cut in, earing a shocked glance from Takahiro. "It's not your fault; it's a gut response. You have nothing to apologize for." Takahiro nodded.
"I'm going to protect you from here on out, Misaki, I promise," the older brother assured the younger. "Once you're released from the hospital, you can come live with us – me and my wife that is…it's going to be okay." Misaki's fingers tightened around Akihiko's hand.
"O-okay…b-but can Usami-sama come visit? I…I mean…if he's not too busy…"
"I'm not," Akihiko replied softly.
"Of course he can," Takahiro complied readily. "Anything to make you feel better, but we're not going to let anything happen to you, anymore. Know that."
"Y-yeah…"
"You should try to get some more sleep. I'm sorry to have woken you, in the first place." Akihiko murmured.
"S-stay?" Misaki whispered, his voice lifting hopefully.
"Of course." Within minutes, the boy was asleep, again. Takahiro now turned to Akihiko.
"Thank you so much…for helping him."
"Anyone in my position would've done the same."
"Still…Thank you…so much."
"You're welcome."
"But I noticed…he won't look at you. You didn't hurt him, did you?"
"No, Fukui…when he hurt Misaki, he made him stare at a picture of me…after he found out we'd become friends. It's called classical conditioning, his mind subconsciously pairs the pain of the…punishment…with an image of my face. Hence, he doesn't want to look at me."
"I see. I'm sorry…for being so suspicious…"
"I understand, but trust me when I say I care for Misaki more than I care for myself, even. I want nothing more than to help this boy."
"I understand, but really, you've done enough. I'm his legal guardian, if you would let me take it from here, that would be appreciated."
"Of course. You do have the legal right…obligation…to take care of him, but please keep in mind that this is about him…not about you proving anything to him or yourself…I just…I told him he'd stay, so if you don't mind…"
"I'm not trying to prove anything. Are you suggesting I'd put my own ego above my brother?"
"No. Never. I was not implying anything. I was simply be cautious." They stared at each other for a long time before Takahiro backed off.
"I can't believe he's alive…I mean, after all this time…we had a funeral and everything!" he sighed heavily, sitting down in the chair by the bed.
"I can only imagine what it must be like. The fear of losing him the first time, the grief of thinking him dead, the anxiety of not really knowing…then finding him again – relief, guilt, old sorrow drudged up…all these questions. What if I hadn't sent him on his own? If only I'd just kept a closer eye on him…Did I look hard enough for him?"
"Are you mocking me?" Takahiro asked angrily.
"No, on the contrary, I am sympathizing with you," came the novelist's calm response.
"Look…I know you want to help, but I think this is something that has to be taken care of inside the family. You know? I just…"
"I understand, but if Misaki asks me to stay…I think it's best I stay at least until he wakes up, okay?" The two of them lapsed into silence. Takahiro's right…now that he's here, Misaki won't need me anymore, Akihiko thought a little sadly. I suppose this will be goodbye, then.
