Days Without Sun

Chapter Nine: Mementos

Akihiko was sitting on the couch in his suite staring again at the "wanted" flyer of the man who had taken Misaki. It had been almost eight weeks now and there was still so little information. Despite all Santo Justino's best efforts and the new "evidence" that they'd encountered, no progress had been made. Akihiko felt that at some points lately, in fact, it was as if the police were actually working against him.

"Sensei, here's your coffee." Aikawa set a cup of hot java down on the table in front of him

"Thank you, Aikawa-san," Akihiko picked up the cup gratefully and took a sip. He watched as the woman went back to the kitchen to retrieve her own mug. Aikawa had been in Brazil now for about five weeks and Akihiko had no idea what he would have done without her assistance.

When Aikawa returned, she sat down opposite him. After taking a few sips of her coffee she took out her laptop and began checking her e-mail. "Do you think you ready to actually do some work now, Sensei?" Her voice teetered on the fence between mildness and irritation.

Akihiko knew from her tone that his answer would determine which side she'd jump down on.

His eyes darted to the seven cigarettes lined out on the low table.

Aikawa had started giving her author a daily ration of smokes, saying she needed to keep the man alive for as long as possible, as currently he was her only livelihood. She had transferred all her other authors to different editors before she left, not knowing how long she would be absent.

While normally rebellious, Akihiko was trying to abide by her attempts to care for him, in light of the sacrifices she had made to help him out during this crisis.

Akihiko leaned forward and picked up a pen off the surface of the coffee table with fingers that really wanted to be holding a cigarette. He began half-heartedly doodling around the edge of the flyer that carried the image of the man he loathed most in the world. "Santo Justino will be here soon," he mumbled.

"I don't need another excuse for you to procrastinate, Usami-Sensei. What I need is for you to get some writing done," Aikawa chided.

Akihiko's lavender eyes flickered up briefly from his doodling, though his hand continued to move over the paper. He had tried writing and, while he found he still could and that it provided some distraction, everything he wrote was so dark these days Aikawa was forcing him to continually rewrite to the extent he felt the whole exercise was useless.

Aikawa caught Akihiko's eye and she sighed. "Well, if you're not going to be productive, can I at least talk with you about some interviews I'd like to schedule?"

Akihiko nodded; his hands distracted by the scribbled marks he was making.

"About that new award you've been given…"

Akihiko cut Aikawa off. "What about that tabloid? The Weekly Sun, that's the one I'm interested in."

A few days ago there had been a big expose in one of the tabloids, part of an ongoing series, linking a number of cases of missing young men, natives and tourists, to the area. Santo Justino had brought the article to his attention. The story had declared there had been over thirty disappearances, at least, during the last three years.

Akihiko had checked after reading it and had found the research was thorough and the reporting solid. Given the decline of local publicity and police cooperation, he'd felt that this was some of the best investigative work he had come across outside of Santo Justino's.

The author had been wanting to meet with the reporter who had written the article and perhaps offer the man the exclusive interview he'd declined everyone else, in the hopes of getting more access to the writer's information.

"I told you before, Sensei, with all the dispersions that have been cast, I really don't think that it's wise for you to open yourself up to that kind of publicity right now," Aikawa advised. Seeing the stubborn set of the author's jaw, however, she frowned.

"Look, if I set up the interview with The Weekly Sun reporter, will you do the other interview I want you to?"

"Yes," Akihiko said simply. He was about to add something else when a knock on the door sounded.

"I'll get it." Akihiko prepared to rise.

"No, you stay right there," Aikawa muttered. "I know once you're up I'll never get you pinned down again."

Akihiko watched his editor head for the door, a wan half smile teasing his lips. Though they had known each other for years now, Akihiko knew, until recently, he had never truly appreciated Aikawa as much as he should have. She had come into the shambles he'd made of both the condo and himself and within a week of constant tough love, scolding, and yelling, she had pulled him back from the brink.

There was a terrible moment during the first few days she was there, with all her sass and her spirit, the businesslike manner in which she'd approached the situation never breaking down before him, that Akihiko had wondered if the woman was just there to manage her career investment.

Then one night, he'd passed by the guest room where Aikawa was staying in the condo and heard her violently weeping. Akihiko had realized then that she was just as tormented by Misaki's disappearance as he was, but had been holding herself together out of consideration for him.

Akihiko wondered if and when they returned to Japan, what he might be able to do to repay Aikawa for all of her kindnesses. He looked down at the flyer he'd been drawing on as he contemplated this question. Seeing what he'd been unconsciously doing with the flyer, however, Akihiko frowned as he left this train of thought behind and caught another.

"Sensei, it's Santo Justino-san," Aikawa said much more brightly than she felt.

The Brazilian investigator stepped into the room, his handsome face didn't look happy, however.

"Did you get it?" Akihiko asked, rising to meet Santo Justino, looking at the P.I. with anxious eyes.

"I did, but I am not your errand boy, Mr. Usami." Santo Justino stated this firmly as he reached into his pocket and took out a small white box. "I'll not be undertaking that kind of task again for you. Understand?"

Akihiko took the small box from the detective carefully. He looked at Santo Justino with serious pain-filled eyes.

"Hopefully I will never need to ask this of you again," he said softly.

Several weeks ago a small package had been delivered to the condo. Aikawa had brought it in with the rest of the mail. Akihiko, for once, had been on top of things and opened the mail immediately,instead of letting it sit for days as he often tended to do when he was left to his own devices.

Aikawa rushed over when she'd heard the hoarse cry Akihiko barked out and she arrived at his side just in time to see his shaking hands holding the small opened box she'd brought in. Settled amidst a nest of white cotton like a gem was a single slender finger.

Santo Justino had been called right away, the police not long after. The coroner's report quickly confirmed the finger was Misaki's. It had been removed with no hesitation and a surgical precision. The one positive thing that had come from the gruesome token, despite the fact it had been frozen for an undetermined length of time, was that it was determined Misaki was still alive when the finger was taken.

After receiving this Akihiko had been driven almost completely mad with grief and fury at the thought of what other horrors his young lover might be enduring. For several days he had needed to be forcibly sedated.

Once he'd somewhat returned to his senses, he asked Santo Justino to secure the finger for him.

It had taken some wrangling and no small amount of bribery to get the coroner to release it.

Akihiko had arranged a special cremation for the small digit. In the box that Santo Justino had just given him now was a tiny vial of ash: the remains of Misaki's finger.

Aikawa and Santo-Justino watched in solemn silence as Akihiko slipped a sliver chain off his neck that sported a small keyed locket. The author sat back down on the edge of the couch, opened the locket, and reverently tapped the small trace of ash into it.

Akihiko closed the locket and brought it to his lips, kissing the cool sliver gently before putting it back on around his neck.

"Thank you, Mr. Santo Justino," he said sincerely. "You have no idea what it means to have Misaki with me again."

The anger left the detective's eyes. He stared into Akihiko's sorrowful face and nodded.

Then, made uncomfortable by the other man's clear anguish, the P.I. averted his gaze looked down at the table. "What's this?" he asked curiously lifting the wanted flyer with the image of Misaki's abductor that Akihiko had been doodling on.

Akihiko looked at the image as he had before and frowned again. "Just messing about a bit, I suppose." His voice was hoarse with the weight of his pain, having just completed his little ritual with the locket.

"You know this guy?" Santo Justino asked curiously.

Akihiko shrugged, "I wasn't purposely trying to do this, but I guess it looks like an annoying fellow I met in a bar when I was out looking for Misaki some weeks ago. Why?" This was true, unknowingly in his doodling, he had changed the face of the man on the flyer and had captured the image of Korovin with all his alterations quite accurately.

"When was this? And tell me exactly what happened… everything." Santo Justino made sure to keep his voice even.

Puzzled, Akihiko told the detective all he could remember about the incident.

"You can't possibly think that was him?" Akihiko asked incredulously. His stomach rebelled at the thought. What if it was true and the man, Misaki's abductor and now obvious torturer, was sitting right there next to me?

"I'm not saying anything," Santo Justino said. "Except, that there's nothing in this image a little hair dye, some colored contacts and a few injection of collagen couldn't have brought about and that was when the image of the perpetrator from the videos was saturating the airwaves," the detective recalled.

"And it's possible it's just a huge coincidence, but that Takahashi's finger was delivered within forty-eight hours after that…" Santo Justino shook his head as if trying to clear away such crazy speculations.

The detective wiggled the flyer making the paper rattle. "Do you mind if I keep this?" he asked.

Not at all," Akihiko said earnestly. "Do you mind my asking what you intend to do with it?" Aikawa too looked on in silent curiosity.

"Brazil is the cosmetic surgery center of the world, Mr. Usami," Santo Justino said mildly.

"I think I'll start taking this to every center and clinic in the city and just ask around and see if anyone worked on this guy. After all at this point, even after the finger, we're still at a dead end anyways, so what could it hurt?"

Thank you so much for all your feedback, guys. It means the world to me!

Oh, And you might notice the new cover for this piece. The design concept is that of the brilliant The Black Flamingo 101. You can see more of her work on deviantart under the same penname.

Kisses!

Cerberus