Days Without Sun

Minutes

Jadir had been shocked when Usami Akihiko had drawn his gun on him: the man who, in the few minutes he had been with him, had shown him more true kindness than he had known in the two years of his captivity. Jadir had been unable to understand what Usami had said before he committed himself to this action, but his captor, Korovin, had responded in Portuguese.

"Do it. I don't care."

It was these words by Korovin, not the gun, that set him sobbing. Jadir wept without tears knowing it was true: Korovin had assured him countless times he was nothing.

He was also weeping for Takahashi Misaki. He wished he could shed true tears for his fellow captive; maybe they could wash away some of his terrible guilt.

Takahashi had been forced to endure far more than he would have if he'd not asked him to join in his attempted escape. Korovin had told him this often since their capture.

He'd forced Jadir to look upon Takahashi, broken and unconscious. Seeing him again on the screen now in his further reduced condition, Jadir was overwhelmed with crushing remorse.

My foolish action caused this suffering.

And the man standing next to him, pointing the gun, loved Takahashi; this much was clear.

It had been from the first time Jadir had heard Usami utter Takahashi's other name: "Misaki." Even if Usami didn't know of his fault, Jadir felt the man's action was justified.

As the hopelessness of his situation bloomed within him once more, Jadir thought miserably, in addition to justice, at least it would put an end to his own pain and the world of hurt the other life he carried would be born into.

"Don't you?"

Jadir heard and understood this as well, though Usami had spoken it in English.

Something in the tone of the words struck him. He raised his head as Usami stepped forward. His fear-blurred eyes met Usami's and he was stunned again. The gaze he encountered was not filled with anger or coldness, instead Usami's eyes held an expression of overwhelming grief.

Jadir had always been a perceptive boy. Sensitive... too much so, he'd been told more than once in his life. The past two years had honed this in him to a razor's blade. He had learned to read every tic, tense, and breath of Korovin in order to please him. As he looked at Usami now, he understood immediately that the man before him was in terrible pain and did not want to kill him.

The terror in his eyes softened; he saw Usami's widen in response to this. He watched Usami lean forward with the gun. Jadir remembered that God had answered his prayer and one way or another he believed that Usami was to be his deliverer.

Jadir caught the waver of the barrel and moved his head just slightly to press against the edge of the steel to steady it. His gaze never left Usami's. He only hoped that Korovin had not noticed his subtle gesture.

Usami felt it though, and the hardened mask he had been trying to maintain slipped. Jadir knew if his captor saw this the deadly game would be over and he, Usami, Takahashi, and the rest of the boys would lose.

"Master! Save us!" He wanted to remind Korovin of the swelling secret he carried. He hoped his plea would pull the devil's eyes to him, though his own never left Usami's. Jadir prayed that the title would catch on his tormentor's pride, would remind him that someone else was playing with his "toy" now. Unable to bear the infinite grief in Usami's expression Jadir closed his eyes and committed his heart one last time to his God.

"Forgive me, Jadir. I truly wanted to free you but not in this way."

A fresh wave of sobs shook Jadir's slender shoulders hearing the solemn earnestness in Usami's voice, though still no tears came.