The Innocent (A 'Finder' Fanfiction)

Gemini - Chapter 2

It was a particularly dark place. So, was it a wonder that his mind had turned onto a likewise grim route? He leaned against one of the walls of that damp, narrow basement into which they had settled. Hard, cold light from only one lamp shed some brightness into the corridor and was reflected by the battered steel door in front of him. The purpose the room behind it had once had – a small storage perhaps – had long been forgotten. Now it was a cell.

Inside, there was no window in the high, grayish painted stone walls and no other way out except through the one door. An adult would not be able to stretch out in it even if he lay down diagonally on the cold, brutal, concrete floor. The only exchange of air was ensured by one fist-sized hole far up in one corner. Through it had been shoved several cables that ended in large speakers and one lamp. All of that had been fixed to the ceiling – far away and unreachable without a latter. Currently, however, once again something more except for cables and air crushed through that hole: stroboscopic, bright, blue light and unbearable noise – a 90ties techno track too loud and on fast-forward – shot out into the corridor for a few seconds ... then silence again.

Aaron did not flinch whenever the turmoil set in, nor when it stopped. He had been tortured like that himself. He had been tortured too many times to still feel anything when memories of it hit him with cold force.

He had been sixteen the first time. They had pulled out his fingernails with pincers, they had given him electroshocks. Yet, he had not said a word. He had not betrayed his friends.

The only reason they had let him live was that he had not been important or a threat. Just some teen caught at the wrong time at the wrong place – and it had been Alex' fault, as always.

"Yeah ... Roro, you can do with him whatever you want. I really don't care", his brother had said in his usual patronizing manner. In the eyes of everyone Alex had always been the better ... the best really. And Alex had always believed this assessment to be true.

It was one of the reasons why Aaron had never cared about the moral and value concepts of other people. If only they knew how wrongly they judged ... if only they knew!

Any attempt to make his brother understand the opportunity the capture of that boy Takaba had granted them had been unsuccessful, the same as any try at explaining what that kid meant to Asami Ryuichi. In fact, Alex had reprimanded Aaron and his men for even getting the Japanese from the hospital and had told them to just get rid of him. Nothing of this had changed. But now, Aaron had proposed a bet to his brother, and those Alex had never declined. He loved to win and to prove once more that he was the better one.

And hell yes, the plan Aaron had come up with could fail and would make his twin laugh at him once again. Alex would ridicule the amount of time and work his brother had put into all of this without any gain. Then Takaba would just be flushed down some drain, anyhow ...

But if Aaron succeeded ... if he managed to turn into reality that one small, little, nasty idea he had suddenly had then that would be the best payback possible. And it would crush Asami.

Again, the din and blue flashes of light burst through the tiny hole into the corridor, when an evil grin showed on Aaron's lips. He played with the key to the steel door in his hand, let it wander through his fingers, rotating and twisting it. It would open that door and unlock the beginning of his work.

With a jerk, he pushed himself away from the wall, stepped over to the entrance to the small room, and switched off the power supply for the stroboscopic lamp and the speakers. Silence fell as heavily as the blade of a guillotine. Then he rolled his shoulders a few times, stretched his neck, arms and fingers, before he unlocked the door and gently and quietly pulled it open.

There was some audible movement inside the dark cell, but nothing of it could be seen. The lamp in the corridor was too far away.

Inside it stank of excretions, sweat and damp concrete, but Aaron did not even wrinkle his nose. He got down into a crouch and pulled the door almost shut behind his back. In the blindness, he fished in one of his pockets and found a tiny reading lamp – the kind you charge with a USB-cable and could clip to your book. It was not bright, but the light was warm and kind, when he switched it on, compared to the aggressive, hurting flashes of blue.

"Arata?", he whispered in the most caring and worried tone he could muster. In his profession, you did not survive for long if you weren't a good actor.

The prisoner lay in one of the backward corners, knees pulled to the chest, arms tugged around them, hiding his head. He looked like a scared puppy, shaking and dirty, and did not react at all.

Slowly and gingerly, Aaron pushed the lamp across the floor towards the other. It would work wonderfully in those hours they just left the boy in darkness and solitude. He even leaned forward to shove it farther away, until it was out of the reach of his fingertips. Then he got back into his crouch.

"This is for you, Arata", he said in a soft whisper. "You need to hide it when they come. If they find it, they will take it away and will wonder from whom you got it."

No reaction.

Takaba Akihito had been smuggled from the hospital in the same way they had planned for Asami: by help of chloroform. The dose, however, had been a bit too high for him. For two days after regaining consciousness, he had kept vomiting, and they had been forced to get him onto some IV to prevent him from just dying of dehydration. He had been barely awake in all that time. Thereafter, he had been put into some metal box in which usually small animals were shipped in trains or cargo ships. At first, he had shouted to be set free. Then he had started to beg whoever was out there, to let him go. After a while, he had not had any strength for even that anymore. He had started to whimper and sob and had hardly moved at all.

Aaron's face he had not seen once in all of it. And he had only ever once had a glimpse at it before – though maybe not even a good one: at Chernobog's attack on the apartment in which he and Asami Ryuichi had lived until months ago.

It had been Alex' order to chase the bastard from his nest. To hound him even out of Japan. And it had worked, very well ... But if the kid actually remembered Aaron's face from back then – and that scar made him rather easily recognizable – then he already had a good explanation prepared for it.

Until now, however, there had not been any reaction at all. Akihito still lay in the corner, dressed in a black pajama that was far too large and incredibly dirty, huddled together like a frightened animal. But Aaron had to give him credit. He had seen many people in this situation. Strong, brave men who had been tossed into a small box or a cell, and had been kept in there, deprived of freedom and sleep and peace, kept in solitude and dirt, always fearing to be left behind to die there after slowly, painfully wasting away for days ... maybe weeks. Most of them had wept at this point. They had pulled out their hair, had bitten their nails to the bone, and clung to whoever could be seen or heard anywhere, promising to do anything – anything at all – for just one glass of clean water.

Takaba Akihito, on the other hand, was still defiant, even if he looked as if he wanted to melt into the wall to find safety there. He had only begged to be let go when they had brought him from Macao to Poland in that box but had not made any promises or proposition at all. Now, he remained silent, as if he had resigned to sit this out in stubbornness.

"Arata?", Aaron whispered again, his voice so full of warmth and care.

In Japanese, the boy's name meant 'a fresh and new individual'... and that he would have to become ... someone else ... formed by Aaron ... trusting only Aaron.