Days Without Sun

Epilogue: Part III: Healing

Akihiko left Misaki and joined Santo Justino and Jadir out on the balcony.

Given the nature of New Day's clientele, every balcony in the clinic was enclosed with privacy blinds so that the gardens below could be enjoyed without unwanted observation. The spacious, terracotta-tiled ledge was also adorned with a number of potted topiary, a few chaise lounges, and a small ornate ironwork table with matching chairs.

Smoke curled up from the cigarette held in Santo Justino's fingers as he sat at the table. Jadir, in his wheelchair, was off a ways near the balcony's low, walled perimeter. He had his eyes closed and seemed to be lost in the feeling of the faint wind on his skin as it slipped through the slatted curtains.

Both Jadir and Santo Justino looked up at Akihiko's entrance, but neither said anything.

Though the detective had been spending numerous hours with Jadir, there were actually not many words shared between them. It was the same when Santo Justino accompanied Aikawa on her visits to Akihiko or Misaki, although Aikawa usually filled the space so that it was hardly noticeable. Akihiko too had been generally silent when he'd gone with Misaki to see Jadir while the Brazilian youth was still bedridden.

Perhaps it was the secrets shared between the three men that engendered this quiet; however, the silence was not uncomfortable.

Akihiko pulled out a chair and sat down across from Santo Justino at the table. Wordlessly Santo Justino pushed his pack over; after hesitating a moment, Akihiko pulled out a fag.

Their therapist had recommended against trying to quit right now, given all that he and Misaki were working through.

In addition to joint sessions with Misaki, Akihiko was seeing an individual counselor too in an attempt to relieve the recurring nightmares he had featuring Korovin. He had been reluctant to do so at first, but found it was also helping him sort through the complex feelings the arose as he walked with Misaki in his healing. There were things he needed to process but that he didn't want to bring up in their shared sessions, not as fragile as his boy was.

Seeing Usami lift the cigarette to his lips, Santo Justino passed his lighter over as well.

Pulling a deep drag, Akihiko coughed lightly. His brain rejoiced in the nicotine, but his lungs were still somewhat affected by whatever it was that Korovin had cursed him with. Turning his head to the side, Akihiko's eyes fell on Jadir and he noted the way the boy was looking longingly at the smoke.

"You smoke, Jadir?"

Jadir dropped his eyes and a blush filled his cheeks, embarrassed to be so clearly seen.

"I- I used to..."

Jadir's halting words caused Santo Justino to look over at him in surprise. He'd been like a chimney around the teen whenever they went out on Jadir's terrace and the boy had never said anything. "Kind of young for such a bad habit..." Even as the detective said this, however, he pointed to his pack and nodded at Jadir in offering.

Jadir nodded back and Santo Justino rose and moved the wheelchair over to the table.

After setting his false hand over the pack to hold it, Jadir extended his real hand and out pulled a cigarette. The operation was clumsy as he was still learning to use his prosthetics. Rather than offer assistance, both Akihiko and Augusto looked away, giving the boy some modicum of privacy in his struggle.

Jadir put the cigarette between his lips and picked up the lighter with his good hand. He flicked the flame, but rather than light up, he simply watched it dance in the lazy breeze. He set the lighter back down on the table and, a moment later, the unlit fag joined it.