Days Without Sun
Chapter Seven: Hunting
Vladimir Korovin was hunting again.
He'd been surprised to find his hunger for the tense thrill of acquisition had returned to him so quickly. In the past, usually after acquiring a new toy for his collection he'd been satisfied for much longer, but he was aware that over time his need was making itself felt with much more frequency. It was the natural progression of a temperament like his, he'd read.
But at the moment he'd taken a break from stalking the herds to stop into a low bar and grab a cold beer. Despite the fact nothing in particular had caught his eye on the beach, he was still feeling in the mood to celebrate.
He'd had his newest specimen for almost a month now. Takahashi was proving to be both a challenge and a delight. His research was also going quite well too.
Korovin pondered his collection. Never one to succumb to superstition, he had thirteen cells occupied there in his estate's underground chambers: a baker's dozen of beautiful boys to play with, each one a different experiment.
His mind drifted to the new project he was working on, however. Once that one was perfected, and he was so close now, he would administer his new creation to all the youths currently in his care. The possibilities were so enticing.
His thoughts then traveled again and he found himself contemplating his sweet Jadir.
After spending two years with him the boy was so perfectly broken. Korovin sighed. If he took a new pet now, Jadir would have to go… He never kept more than his odd number of playthings at any one time. "So sad," he murmured without truly meaning it.
All good things had to come to an end: at one time, Jadir had a predecessor as well. Perhaps in his death, the sweet caramel-skinned youth would finally achieve the perfection he had been moving the teen towards. Like his dear Carlo he relinquished when he'd acquired Takahashi.
Korovin found this line of thought incredibly soothing.
The doctor slumped back in the hard wooden seat he was occupying. He looked at the near-finished drink clasped between his surgically skilled hands as they rested on the scarred surface of the rickety table he sat at.
He sighed again and ran a hand through his lengthening, recently-dyed brown hair. Korovin blinked a bit, as his eyes were still adjusting to the colored contacts he wore. He was more than moderately annoyed that he'd been so careless as to not see the camera in front of the shop where he'd taken Takahashi from.
As scowl edged Korovin's already sharp features.
That author of Takahashi's was proving to be a bit of a nuisance. Posting pictures of him everywhere, those rough sketches made from the grainy black and white recording of that cheap security camera. The footage had looped on the news for days, forcing him to disguise himself now when he went out in public.
In addition to his change in coloration, he had recently added collagen to his lips and cheeks, filling them out. Adding a touch of prosthetic to his nose as well, so skillfully that it looked completely natural, had changed his appearance remarkably but it was a pain in the ass to do and wasted valuable time in his already busy schedule.
Still Korovin knew he needed to be very cautious right now. After all, there was also that nasty article that had appeared in one of those cheap tabloids recently. An expose on the number of international boys who'd disappeared over the last few years from local resorts. The reporter penning the article had tried to create some sort of link between these and Takahashi's disappearance. Korovin thought it was a smart piece of investigative work. Too smart. He supposed it wouldn't be long until the national news picked up on this as well.
Korovin looked up at the wobbly ceiling fan turning overhead. When he'd fled Japan some years ago and set up his practice here, he'd originally started by taking only local boys, street urchins primarily. Then no one asked questions or could even be barely bothered with the youths' disappearances.
As his skill and tastes refined however, considering himself a connoisseur of flesh, the "Doc" longed for more exotic flavors.
As rich as his private plastic surgery practice here in Brazil, the cosmetic construction capital of the world, had made him; as well as the illicit funds garnered from the specialty drugs he designed and produced himself, Korovin was wealthy enough he could have easily bought any manner of youth that he desired.
But what fun was that?
He had reconciled himself to the fact he was a pure predator years ago and the thrill of the hunt was just as important to him as the pleasure he got from playing with his prey once he'd acquired it.
His thoughts drifted back to his lovely Jadir. The boy was one of only two Brazilian youths left in his collection at the moment.
Jadir's father was a respected but inconsequential local business man. There was hardly anything on the news about his scarred boy's disappearance now. The coverage had all but ceased in fact, when after Jadir's first year of incarceration, he started sending the family one of the teen's fingers each time he came across any sort of renewed coverage.
This thought turned his mind back to his newest prize, the sweet Takahashi boy. Who would have ever thought such spirit was contained behind the youth's tender demeanor?
He remembered the first time he saw the teen as he was trolling the beach. Takahashi's coloring was so unique, those huge green orbs. So delicious looking when he was terrified, it was all Korovin could do not to pluck them out and swallow them whole so he could absorb them into his own cells and carry them with him forever.
Then hearing Takahashi laugh, the richness of the sound and the cadence of the tongue the he had left behind in the Land of the Rising Sun, when he'd fled from police pursuit there, it had made him so nostalgic. Takahashi had seemed so perfect and Korovin had watched with envy the rapport the boy had with his older lover.
Korovin had done his research well. He'd known that taking Takahashi was a risk. The teen's lover, the aristocrat novelist, Usami, was a person of importance. More so than those connected to any other of the foreign baubles he'd plucked from the beach.
He'd known he was upping the stakes before he'd made his move. But to be honest, that was part of the game, the adrenaline-pumping, heart-pounding thrill of it. Korovin realized that he was addicted to it thoroughly and that it was getting harder to maintain his high. This was why he was out even now prowling instead of being comfortably"entertained" by one of the treasures currently laid up in his lair.
The surgeon/scientist looked up from his quiet table in the corner, as two newcomers entered the bar.
Korovin felt his heart stop for a moment and then when it resumed it pounded madly as he recognized the taller of the two almost immediately. Though the cut of the man's clothes was expensive, the author looked thin, his face haunted. The sleek satisfied air that man had worn like a second skin, the first time he had seen him had all but evaporated.
Korovin found this very pleasing… his heart rate evened out.
This was going to be fun.
Akihiko walked into yet another dive and sat down at the bar. He was accompanied by shorter dark man. As was his custom, the author ordered an expensive drink that he wouldn't consume. It was just to show his good intentions to the bartender.
He allowed his translator Javier to establish a comfortable banter with the man behind the bar before they pulled out the stack of flyers.
Akihiko knew in a certain sense that what he was doing was an exercise in futility, but still, he had to do something. He just couldn't bear sitting around his condo with Aikawa one more minute.
Akihiko thanked the gods again for the friend he had in his editor: Aikawa had come and shaken him back into his senses.
Though he still slept naked on the floor every night, Aikawa had made him clean up and start moving, freeing him from the tar pit of despair he'd found himself trapped in when she'd first arrived. Not only that, but the woman had promised to stay on for a few more weeks yet.
Hiroki had offered to come as well once Akihiko had called his oldest friend to let the professor know what was going on… Not that Hiroki hadn't already heard by the time he had rung him. Akihiko was touched by the gesture, but glad now that he'd been able to talk the man out of making the trip. He was so on edge these days he knew that the two of them together right now would have likely cost him yet another relationship and Akihiko was not about to lose on more person he cared for.
No new solid leads had come up since the discovery of the footage. It was maddening. Akihiko knew that Santo Justino was still working tirelessly on the case. As far as he was concerned however, the police, for their part, were useless.
By now, Akihiko had become familiar with the underbelly of Garopaba and the wide spread police corruption. Seeking out the brothels from the highest to the lowest, bars and drug houses as well, in search of information about his lost lover, the things he saw in these places looking for Misaki had irreparably changed him. Having lived his whole life in plush protection, Akihiko now had an entirely new understanding of the word "suffering."
Everywhere Akihiko went he asked the same questions, offered the promise of a reward. He had put himself in danger by his actions, come close to being kidnapped a few times himself, in fact. That was why his current translator, Javier, was a skilled bodyguard as well.
Not that he would have cared if anything had happened to himself; with the exception of the fact incarceration would have slowed his search for Misaki. The return of his beloved was all that Akihiko lived for at this point.
His well-published reward for information leading to Misaki had been highly responded to. So many calls came in initially, in fact, that Santo Justino had been forced to hire additional investigators to track down all the leads. Now, however, the calls and incoming tips were falling off.
Every day that passed left Akihiko feeling more desperate.
"Have you seen these men?" Akihiko asked the man minding the bar. With his ear for language he'd picked up enough Portuguese that he only needed his translator for more complicated conversation. "There's a reward for information that leads to the finding of either of these two."
The bartender at least offered him the courtesy of looking at the pictures of Misaki and his kidnapper. Many places he went, people wouldn't even take the time to glance at them. This infuriated Akihiko as the people seemed to have no understanding of the preciousness of the image he was offering to them in Misaki's portrait.
Akihiko sighed when the man behind the bar shook his head "no."
"Know of anyone who might have some information?" Akihiko asked tiredly. "The same offer of reward still stands."
Again the response was negative.
Akihiko hardly glanced over when another man pulled up next to him at the bar to have a glass refilled.
"Hey, I think I've seen that kid on the news," an accented English voice said with a mild exclamation of surprise.
Akihiko turned to face the man beside him.
He was obviously a foreigner as well: tall, brown hair, brown eyes. Akihiko couldn't help but feel, looking at the man, like he'd seen him somewhere before. He glanced down at the copy of the sketch of Misaki's abductor. He had spent so long staring at the image of this demon who haunted his dreams he could have drawn the sketch himself from memory.
No. It wasn't him. Besides his coloring, the man's nose wasn't right, his lips and cheeks too full.
Akihiko often found himself these days questioning his own sanity. It seemed now that almost every man he saw reminded him somehow of the picture the villain who had stolen his green-eyed heart.
Akihiko rubbed his tense forehead. This was the tenth bar they'd visited so far today and he was exhausted.
"So you must be the author then?" the man said curiously, "Usami something right?"
Akihiko didn't respond immediately the other man said: "You do speak English, don't you? I thought I saw you speaking English anyway, in some interview I saw on TV. Don't you think that kid is a bit young for you?"
The author considered the man's accent. He was definitely not English.
As rude as his comment was, Akihiko would have thought American, but that didn't seem right either.
"So I have been told," Akihiko sighed. He had become quite used to being considered a deviant after the last several weeks. Actually given his family situation, it seemed as though he been preparing to play this role for years.
"Excuse me, sir," The tightness in his voice belied the politeness of his address. "Unless you have some information about my partner, I don't mean to be impolite, but I have no desire to discuss the case with you."
"Sure sport," The other man said, gathering his drink and getting ready to return to his table.
"Look, I didn't mean any offense by what I said. To each his own, as long as everyone's okay with it, is my motto," the stranger said amicably. "I wish you the best in your search.
"I am a father myself," the man said pointing to a gold band on one of his fingers. "I can't imagine what I'd do if one of my kids went missing. Hope you find him. Whatever you do don't quit looking," seeming to have run out of platitudes to offer, the fellow pushed up off the bar and began moving away.
He'd not gone but a few feet when he heard Akihiko whisper behind him, "I'll quit when I'm dead."
Returning to his table, Korovin watched Akihiko suddenly down the drink in front of him as his translator/bodyguard looked on with surprise.
"Let's go."
Akihiko left the papers he'd show the bartender with the images of Misaki and his abductor on the bar, picking up the larger stack of flyers bearing the same faces he carried with him everywhere.
Akihiko looked back at the man who'd approached him once more on his way out, his hired muscle trailing behind him.
Korovin raised his drink in grim salute. He was incredibly pleased he could do so without his hand shaking.
The Doc leaned back with a sigh when the author finally left.
His heart was thundering in his ears, his whole body giddy with the electric thrill of being so close to the man he'd stolen his newest prey from: the rancher pursing the wolf who taken his lamb. He watched with satisfaction as the bartender glanced once more at the papers left on his bar before picking them up, crumpling them into a ball and throwing them in the trash.
Then Korovin had a sudden realization: maybe he didn't need a new toy just yet. Maybe he could just up the stakes and try a new game with the playthings he had. Korovin turned his false wedding ring contemplatively. Maybe he should send Usami Akhiko a gift…
Something to commemorate their first meeting…
Studying his long digits again, Korovin thought Takahashi's ring-finger would do nicely, but feeling as pleased as he was at the moment, he thought that he'd generously let the young man pick which finger it was that was eventually sent to his lover.
Old AN:
Katrinadianne- check out the Uke Flu… some answers are there.
LoserSquad,ForeverAgainst,LunaLilly19,Revolnievol- thank you so much for your reviewing and glad you're liking the fic.
0oBreakMeo0- Thank you so much for the slough of reviews. The answer to that is in the Uke Flu… but you'll have to wait and see how things unfold. So glad you're liking the story.
Kat- thank you so much for continuing to review. I do appreciate your comments.
AmIOtaku-thank you for the kind comments
BF101- Saw your comment on the Neko-Files… Hooray! I am in the lead. I had to write that to counter balance this. Though I did have you in mind when I wrote it. What can I say… between you and freakyLemurCat, I am developing an attachment to this couple. Not that one could tell here with how cruel I am being. Maybe this will get me some Akira/Shiki action from you down the line somewhere…? Thank you so much for the PM BTW… your kind words were so helpful. Now I want to read all your other stories… Miss you GT!
KristinfromItaly- Princess, your reviews lately have been so delicious. Hope you find this and just a few quick notes from your OAP reviews… Reynard is another name for a male fox, Akihiko didn't come in Hiroki's mouth in Chapter 10 of OAP, "attracted to" is the correct way to say it and last, male or female… "filled" is the way it is often described. I shall eagerly await your next batch of kisses.
