Summary: So, this is for those fans who wanted "The Uke Flu" back story. This is what happened to Misaki when he was captured by the mad scientist/sadist, Vladimir Korovin, in South America.
So this is a reposting of this fic in conjunction with the Uke Flu, since this is the Flu's prequel.
I moved it to YFF when FF began enforcing its no MA content rule in the summer of 2012. Due to popular demand I am returning it here and hope that it will evade future purges.
This fic contains kidnapping, torture, and non-consensual sexual situations. However, I have tried not to be too graphic. While I certainly do not put myself on par with these authors, I do not see this story as differing too much from say a work of someone like Stephen King or Thomas Harris. Given the dark nature of this piece, if you have an issue with the content or are not of a suitable age please click out of this fic now.
I humbly request that if you take offense at my work that you please PM me rather than report this to FF, so that those who enjoy reading work like this may continue to do so.
Many thanks to all who asked to get this fic back and for your patience.
Disclaimer: I do not own Junjou Romantica or any of its characters
Days Without Sun
Chapter One: Darkness
Misaki swam back up into consciousness. Returning to the surface of sensibility, he gasped and tried to draw a deep breath, but the movement of his chest was constricted. Drowning in panic, he fought to compose himself, mind reeling as he frantically sought to get a grasp on his situation.
Calm down! he ordered himself, not that this helped much: his heart was pounding so hard he thought it might crack his ribs.
Misaki continued struggling to breathe; it took him a few moments to realize that the reason he was having difficulty expanding his chest was because it was bound, and that he could only draw breath through his nose as his mouth was duct-taped.
The next thing he realized was that he could not see, even though his eyes were wide open. Complete darkness enveloped him, and this, as much as anything else, terrified him.
Hot tears filled Misaki's eyes, only making him panic all the more. If he started crying his nose would become further obstructed and then he really might find himself completely unable to breathe. Still, his head ached so fiercely this alone would have been enough to elicit tears, even without the added terror.
What happened... Where am I?
Misaki grappled with this question, though the movement of every thought through his mind pained him. He tried vainly to still his thoughts by focusing in on the physical sensations available .
Running through what he could ascertain he understood that his head was killing him and he was tied up and lying on a hard concrete floor.
As the implications of the situation hit him, his guts clenched at the possibility that he might have been assaulted when he was passed out. After a moment of this new terror, Misaki realized he still had his clothes on and outside the agony of his head and the burn of his stiff muscles; he couldn't feel any other injuries. This offered him some small reassurance.
Not a lot, but enough he was able to still himself suitably to start remembering.
He and Usagi-san were in South America on the coast of Brazil. They had supposedly come initially for a writing conference Aikawa-san had wanted Usagi-san to attend. Usagi-san hadn't wished to leave Tokyo and probably wouldn't have, except that there had been that terrible incident with Takahiro.
Nii-chan, Misaki thought miserably. Tears threatened to overtake his eyes once again.
This feeling of sorrow for his beloved sibling was not new: he had known it ever since the day Takahiro had found out about him and Usagi-san.
Misaki's heart still ached when he recalled his brother's face when he and Usagi-san revealed the truth of their love and Takahiro finally understood. No less painful was Usagi-san's expression when his nii-chan responded to it, calling Usagi-san such awful things.
Then Takahiro grabbed his arm and tried to physically remove him from Usagi-san's apartment. It was the only time in his life Misaki could ever remember not obeying his older brother.
"I won't go, Nii-chan!" When he'd said this, Misaki's heart had been pounding almost as furiously as it was now. "You have your life with Manami-nee-san now and mine is with Usagi-san. I… I love him."
Misaki still recalled the sting of the slap that had followed his declaration, but even more so, the pain in his older brother's eyes when his nii-chan realized what he'd just done. In their whole life together, Takahiro had never once laid his hand on him in any way that was not kind or comforting. Usagi-san had moved in immediately to take up his defense, just as shocked by Takahior's reaction. But Takahiro had dropped Misaki's arm after striking and with a look of horror in his eyes fled the apartment.
For days after this awful event, Misaki tried to contact his brother with no response. Usagi-san had felt terribly about the whole ordeal, causing the brothers he loved so much such problems. At one point he even tried to get Misaki to leave him.
"Do you seriously want me to go, Usagi-san?" Misaki had said through his tears. "You once said you would lock me away rather than have me leave you. Do you not feel that way anymore?"
"No, Misaki, of course not. I love you. But I don't want to cost you your family." They had been lying on the couch together: Usagi-san behind him; long fingers stroking unruly, dark hair.
"But you're my family now, Usagi-san," Misaki rolled over to look at Usagi-san and had been overwhelmed by the love he'd seen in his big rabbit's eyes.
That had been the end of their discussion about him leaving.
When Takahiro finally called days later, he wanted Misaki was to leave Akihiko and come and live with him and Manami. Otherwise, Takahiro threatened to go to the authorities about Akihiko's activities. He was convinced that even if there were no criminal actions taken, there would undoubtedly be a scandal that would affect Usagi-san's reputation.
Akihiko had been with Misaki when he received the call and overheard Takahiro's words.
Eight hours later they were on a flight out of the country.
They had been in Brazil for three weeks now, the conference long-over. Usagi-san told Aikawa that he found the change of scene conducive to his writing. He had informed Aikawa recently, in fact, that he had no idea when they might return. As long as he was faithful with their conference calls and e-mailing her his work, however, Aikawa said she didn't have an issue with her author's travels.
When they'd first started talking about staying out of Japan for a while, Usagi-san had been concerned about him missing his college classes, but Misaki really didn't mind. He had never liked school that much and there was so much to see in Brazil. It was an amazing country.
Plus, the condo Usagi-san rented was near the beach and Misaki loved spending his days there. He'd even been learning to surf and was surprised to find, despite how clumsy he normally felt, that he really had an aptitude for it.
Yes, there had been all sorts of distractions to try and keep his mind off the silence that followed since that last phone call from his nii-chan.
As far as Misaki knew, his brother had done nothing once he realized that he and Usagi-san had left Japan. Both he and Usagi-san had tried multiple times to contact Takahiro since, Manami-nee-san as well, without any response from either.
These recollections only added to Misaki's present pain.
Thinking like this is never going to help me figure out what's going on here. Hoping to distract himself from such troublesome thoughts, Misaki tried to stretch himself out.
This effort jarred his head and instantly sent his muscles screaming. He wondered how long he had been unconscious and lying in one position to get so stiff. Misaki attempted to sit up, but the moment he tried, his temples throbbed so badly he thought he might pass out. A wave of nausea swept over him and his stomach lurched. Immediately he lay back down, praying he didn't vomit. Not with his mouth secured as it was.
As the sense of sickness passed, Misaki found himself trying to recall how he ended up here, now, wherever this was.
Tracing back his memories he remembered he had gone with Usagi-san to the beach today...
If it still is today. He had no notion of how long he'd been out.
Misaki felt a warm flush fill his body despite the horror of his situation, remembering how Usagi-san had commented that morning on how much their new environment seemed to agree with him. Usagi-san noted this in no uncertain terms as they sat together under their rented umbrella: waxing sappily poetic about how the sun had bronzed him and the surfing refined his previously unresolved physique.
Then a call from Aikawa came in on Usagi-san's cell and he discovered he needed to go back to the resort to access his laptop.
I'd finally convinced him to leave it behind that morning; Usagi-san had been working so hard lately.
It was amazing how much more relaxed Usagi-san had been in Brazil: the anonymity of their new environment and the fact there was no chance of Misaki running into any other Usamis had significantly tempered his possessiveness.
Under the shaded shelter of their umbrella, Usagi-san had kissed him sweetly and told him to have fun and surf some more, assuring him that he didn't need to come with him.
I promised him after catching a few more waves, I'd go back up to the condo and make him make lunch. Usagi and his silly octopi sausages...
Misaki remembered now! He had been on his way home to do just that, after returning his rented board, when he saw another foreigner on the sidewalk ahead of him looking terribly lost and out of place.
The man had been older, perhaps early forties, tall and lanky in a muscular way, like Usagi-san. Though his hair was blond and cropped short and his eyes an icy blue, there was an air about him that reminded Misaki in some way of Usagi-san's older brother, Haruhiko.
The man looked up from the map he was contemplating and they'd made eye contact. Moving towards him then the blond had asked asked him a question.
Misaki was used to this sort of thing by now. He had an approachable face it seemed, so no matter where it was he went, people always would pick him out of a crowd to ask directions of or answer a question, which was just what the man did, in Portuguese.
Shrugging his shoulders he'd said in his terrible accent, "Sorry, I don't speak Portuguese. I speak Japanese and some English." This, a few surfing terms, and asking where the bathroom was, currently made up the contents of his Portuguese vocabulary.
Misaki understood when the man then questioned him in English, but he was very conscious of how heavy his accent was in English too and it embarrassed him. So he offered an apologetic, "I only really speak Japanese." He'd been stunned to see the man break into a relieved smile and then ask him in Japanese, with just a slight accent himslef, if he knew the way to the same resort where he and Usagi-san were staying.
Delighted to find not only that he could help the man, which always made him feel good, but that he had someone besides his big rabbit he could share an easy conversation with he had answered easily.
"Ah, I am staying there too and was just on my way back from the beach. Would you like to walk with me?"
They had walked together amicably a ways, exchanging pleasantries, when the man had suddenly stumbled and fallen into him.
Reached out to support the stranger, he'd drawn back when something suddenly jabbed him sharply. The tall blond had begun apologizing profusely, pointing to a broken clasp on his shoulder bag that looked quite sharp. Misaki had told the man not to worry. Vladimir Korovin, or "Vlad," as he had introduced himself (Misaki thought the informality of other foreigners so strange) seemed terribly embarrassed. After offering his own name, Misaki had done his best to assure Korovin-san that no harm had been done.
They had continued to walk together, but within moments, he'd suddenly started feeling unwell. After another minute, he had staggered himself, putting out a hand to catch the side of the parked white van they were passing as they walked along the sidewalk for support. Misaki had heard Korovin-san call his name with concern and felt a strong arm suddenly around his waist as things turned black.
Misaki realized now that this was the end of his recall.
He started when a sound in the darkness suddenly broke through his musings.
"Close your eyes, Takahashi," a disembodied voice suddenly said.
Misaki didn't comply until the lights suddenly came on and he had to shut them, as the brightness after such total darkness hurt his eyes and sent a new jolt of pain piercing through his aching skull.
He heard a door scrape open and felt rough hands were on him. Despite the pain it caused his head, he tried to wriggle out of their grasp, but it was to no avail. He found himself quickly and efficiently blindfolded.
A large hand grasped the edge of the tape on his mouth and gave a sharp yank. At the sting of the tape pulling off of his tender skin, Misaki yelped. He was suddenly glad he had so little facial hair, and then was struck by what a strange this thought was to have in the midst of this terrible ordeal.
As soon as his mouth was freed, he began taking in large gulps of air, as much as he was able, given his chest's constriction.
"What…" Suddenly Misaki felt a razor sharp edge of steel pressed lightly against the base of his jaw.
"Be quiet," the cold voice ordered. "You will only speak when spoken to. That is the second most important rule, do you understand?"
Misaki felt his testicles suddenly draw up and a black flower of fear bloomed in his belly. He recognized the voice immediately as belonging to the blond foreigner he had been walking with.
Another jab pierced the flesh of his bicep.
He wanted to struggle, but found after a few moments Misaki found he could not move at all, all voluntary muscle control seemed lost.
The blade left his throat and he felt it go to work on his bindings. His terror increased when once the ropes were gone, he felt the honed steel slip between his flesh and his clothes. Misaki had never thought the sound of tearing cloth could sound so sinister.
Tears flowed freely, soaking the blindfold, as he felt each article of his already beach-scant clothing peeled away from him. Misaki found that he could not make his tongue work, so he couldn't have articulated a verbal protest even if he wanted to. Guttural sounds emerged from his throat as his terror increased in direct ratio to nakedness.
His whole body flushed when Vladimir Korovin's spoke again, his tone shifted from its beachside warmth and now quite cold.
"You make such lovely sounds even incapacitated, Taka-chan, I can't wait to see how I can make you sing once we start playing in earnest."
Misaki tried to be silent after this and was successful, if he disregarded the occasional sob that broke through.
"Trying to be brave now?" Korovin sounded disappointed. "I can tell you right now, Taka-chan, that's a waste of energy, and with what I have planned for you, you're going to need to save all the energy that you can."
If he had been able to, Misaki would have shuddered, as a clammy hand rubbed over the sweating contours of his body.
His hand is so different than Usagi-san's. It was tepid, clumsy, and calloused where Usagi-san's was cool, skilled and smooth.
Misaki choked at the thought of how frantic Usagi-san would be when he realized he was missing. A long, low moan escaped his throat.
Whether it was in response to this sound or for some other reason, Misaki didn't care, but Korovin's hand finally stopped its detested caresses. His own hands were then pulled out and joined and a stiff plastic tie cinched around them, binding them together. Strong arms slipped under his shoulders and knees and Misaki felt himself lifted and then set down on a low bunk. Even as thin as the mattress was, it soothed his aching limbs after lying so long on the cold concrete floor.
Another jab pierced his hip.
Korovin's voice was less harsh now, but no less evil sounding. "That will help your head, Taka-chan, and make you relax a bit as you settle into your new home."
In his blindness, Misaki's senses were already adjusting. He could feel his abductor move away from him and though Korovin was quite stealthy, Misaki knew in a matter of moments that he was now standing by the cell door.
"In another ten minutes, you should be able to move again and you can take the blindfold off then if you want to. It really won't matter one way or the other though, because the room will be completely dark again. There is a cup with some water at the head of your bunk, a toilet two feet past that," Korovin's cool voice instructed.
Misaki heard the door scrape open again and the man move through it. Before he shut the door though, Korovin paused.
"I'll be back later after you've recovered a bit so that you and I can get better acquainted.
In the meantime, be aware I have night vision cameras installed in this room, Takahashi, so that I can observe every move that you make. And just so you know right from the start here… While rule number two is don't speak unless spoke to. Rule number one is don't even think about trying to escape."
Misaki felt his body begin to return to him as he twitched in response when his abductor suddenly barked a cruel laugh.
"There are other rules of course," Korovin chuckled more softly now. "But you and I will have plenty of time together later for me to instruct you in them." With that the door closed and the light turned out again, leaving Misaki alone in the pitch black darkness.
Well, he wasn't entirely alone: he had his thoughts of Usagi-san and his terror for company.
Thank you for reading and please review. Your feedback is appreciated!