The Innocent (A 'Finder' Fanfiction)

Shadow of Pluto - 27 - Asami

His hands were curled to fists so violently, his knuckles had become white and his fingers dull. He felt his face twitch, his jaws tighten, his teeth grind so hard, they started to ache. There was a burning at the side of his vision, as if the wall had caught fire. Again, and again the air stopped in his chest, and he had to force it on. He trembled in a rage as old as his every thought and as paralyzing as an avalanche.

He had run from all of this. Had run from it when he had been a child by dreaming himself away, by becoming numb and unfeeling. He had tried to gain his freedom so many times, yet no matter how far away he had made it – physically or mentally – in the end he still stared dead ahead when his father looked down upon him.

He had run so far and unrelentingly from it, yet nonetheless, the paternal poison still drowned his soul.

When he had woken up here months ago, his first conscious thoughts had clung themselves to the hope that it must be a bad dream. A nightmare! The worst of all. Yet whenever he had fallen asleep it seemed the panic and dread would vanish, and only return when he opened his eyes again. Then Maxim had told him, promised him, that their father was nowhere near and not likely to return anytime soon.

And the longer Asami had lain there, the longer the place remained free of his father, the more it had seemed capable of some beauty and peace after all. Never had he found it there before.

After five months, his mind had tricked him into believing that his father did not care anymore – seemingly he hadn't for about a decade already. He had even dared to come back here, believing into Alex' assurances. For five months, he had appeared to have been safe at his childhood home in Croatia – and why wouldn't Akihito be safe there as well? Why wouldn't anybody, who he called upon, to come there? That his father might return had struck his mind at some points, yet as if he had brainwashed himself the voices of premonition and warning had drowned out within himself. Getting Akihito back had been his priority. Anything else had been second place and ignored.

Now those voices laughed at him. And he wanted to smash his face into them – into his own mind – just as much as against the whole world.

He had been a king of a sandcastle, the most frightening and imposing in the world. His father, however, had not even needed to crush it with his foot. A glance had sufficed, and Ryuichi had slowly plugged it apart with his own hands.

The world was afraid of him, yet he feared only his father. His eyes, his expressionless face, his cold words, his inviolability. Still, he froze in front of him; still his mind went blank; still he felt the need to prove himself and to run at the same time.

He grabbed a pillow from the sofa on which he sat, and smashed it away with so much force, it ripped in the air and all the feathers spilled out.

In this room, he had been kept for about 12 hours now. It had been his chamber when he had been a young child, yet nothing of that was showing anymore. There were two antique sofas now and one armchair, a Chinese antique cabinet and several showcases with one of the most expensive collections of antique coins in the world. Not that ever anybody looked upon them.

Only the mattress he had slept on next to Akihito had been dragged in here, and the feathers settled upon and around it like snow. This night, however, he had not lain on it. He had just sat here.

Hours were ticking by on his wristwatch too quickly, while his mind dared not even to wander. It had attached itself to his gaze and just stared dead ahead. Waiting ... waiting ... because now there was nothing else to do.

But he had to do something! ... The cry screeched somewhere deep inside him only a few times, so faint and far away, that he had simply to shrug to toss it away. It was the only truth, though, he knew. And the one thing he could not ever listen to. There was no way out. There had never been. He had tried for a decade, he had tried for all his life, and he had failed. And now he had dragged Akihito into it as well.