Introduction: The Savior

What does it mean to be 'free'?

Eighteen-year-old Akagi Goro wasn't so sure. Two years prior, his normal, schoolboy lifestyle was turned upside-down by tragedy, and he was held in 'captivity.' As he finally stepped into the cramped, studio apartment that the orphanage had arranged for him to live in – he realized that the freedom he had dreamt of for those two years of captivity – could not be further away. His emotionless eyes flickered around the apartment, as he clutched the suitcase, which held the very little belongings he owned, in his left hand.

"You're free" he whispered to himself, still stood in the doorway. The words that he had been longing to hear for two, long years. The words that now that they had been said, felt empty. He didn't want to be free. He wanted to be back in the home. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. For a moment, he listened for the sounds of the younger kids fighting, or laughing, but instead he was met with silence.

His return home had gone from, "welcome home, son," to the sounds of children – to complete, and utter silence. He realized in that moment, that no matter how lonely he had felt before – it was only going to get so, much worse.

Fear.

That was the first emotion he showed that day, as stepped towards the bed, which was just a mattress on a cheap, wooden frame, trembling.

"Free" he mumbled to himself, trying to calm his nerves "you're free."

No matter how many times he told himself that, nothing changed. He took a seat on the edge of the clean mattress, throwing his head into his hands and biting down on his bottom lip to stop the tears from falling, though that was to no avail. He sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Why did everything go wrong?

He tried not to recall the situation that brought him there, but he couldn't fight the dominating thoughts. He could still see his mother. Her still, lifeless body, laying on the kitchen floor. The puddles of blood – oh so much blood. The murder weapon, a blood-stained knife that sat on the kitchen table, shining like it had just accomplished its main goal. He had let out a blood curdling scream. He could barely breathe, or speak, as he phoned the police. There was no point in phoning an ambulance, he had known she was dead. The police came, and the home he had grown up in, was officially a crime scene. Stained. Tainted. Ruined.

When the police informed him that his father was missing, he knew instantly that he had been the one to kill her. As the days passed and they still hadn't found him, Goro had found himself hoping that he had committed suicide some place. Knowing he was burning in hell for what he had done to his mother would have made his life a little bit easier, but he was arrested at the airport days later, trying to escape from Japan. Goro was angry. While his mother was dead in the graveyard, his father was alive. Rotting behind a cell door, but yet – still living.

Anger. That was the second emotion he felt that day.

Fixing himself, he wiped the tears from his eyes. The only warming person involved in the whole process was the lawyer involved in the case, Mr. Usami Haruto. He was so kind as he questioned him. His family hadn't wanted him, they said that he reminded them too much of his father – the killer.

That broke his heart more than you could even imagine. To find your mother lying dead on the kitchen floor in a pool of her own blood, and then to find out your father is the one who killed her because he suspected her of an affair that never even happened, and then for your entire family to turn against you because you were the child of a murderer. It was all too much. He wanted to be with his mother.

He stood, head spinning and his eyes blurry, puffed from crying. He knew what he had to do.

"Mother," he said softly, "I'll be with you soon."

He staggered towards his dresser. Inside, were small, A5 sheets of paper. He knew his body probably would not be found for a long time, so he scribbled down a note to the police:

I am sorry for the mess. My name is Akagi Goro. Male, 18 years. I'm going to be with my mother now. I'm sorry yet again.

A few droplets of tears stained the paper, smudging the writing slightly. He placed the sheet of paper atop the dresser, then left his apartment without locking his door. There was nothing to steal, anyway, even if people wanted to. As he walked down the steps of stairs onto the main street, he started to wonder how he would kill himself.

Should he hang himself? Slit his wrists? Overdose?

He decided hanging was the best option. That way, he would feel pain – but it would be swift. He deserved to feel pain, as far as he was concerned. Even if just for a minute. Slitting his wrists was too messy. An overdose was too quick. Hanging was just right. He asked an elderly man to direct him to the nearest hardware store. It was 4pm on a summer evening, so there was bound to be somewhere open. The man told him that there was a hardware store just up the road to the left. He thanked him. Probably the second last person he would talk to, ever.

He found the store with ease. He entered, hearing some Japanese boy group playing on the radio. He was so out of touch with these things, he had no idea who they were.

"How may I help you, young sir?" a middle-aged man asked from behind the counter. Goro's eyes met his for a second.

"I'd like to purchase some rope, where may I find it?" he asked him kindly.

"Just down the third aisle" he said, eyeing him suspiciously, "may I ask what you need it for?"

"Just some DIY" Goro lied, knowing full well why he was asking him, "I just moved into my own place and I need it for décor. My room is a nautical theme."

The story was so well thought out, that the man behind the counter just nodded, seeming surprised.

"You live alone? At your age? Well, that's fine. I just had to ask to make sure you weren't suicidal or anything."

"Not at all Goro lied with a smile, "thank you."

He approached the third aisle, picking up the first line of rope he saw.

He brought it back to the checkout, where the man scanned the barcode and then handed it to him, "that will be 1500 yen."

Goro reached into his pocket, pulling out some of the money the orphanage had given him to get started. He handed him the money, and then took the rope.

"Have a good night!" the male said, placing the money in the register and handing him his receipt.

"I will. You too," Goro said, faking yet another smile. The male nodded, then began to tend to the next customer, who had been standing behind Goro with a hammer and nails.

That was the last person he would talk to.

He strolled outside, clutching the rope in his hands. He felt a pain in his chest as he walked back 'home.'

That's when something completely unexpected happened.

"Akagi Goro?" he heard a man's voice call behind him. He froze up.

"Is that you?" the male asked. He turned quickly. The face of the man looked familiar, but he couldn't quite remember him. In his moment of weakness, everyone around him looked like a blur.

"If you're Akagi Goro, I'm Amaya Daisuke. I mean – Mr. Amaya. Your math teacher."

That's when he remembered!

He had always thought his math teacher was incredibly gorgeous.

His thick, curly black hair. His big, brown eyes and his long eyelashes. He was over six foot, only half-Japanese and thin. He was good looking that way, though. If he was buff, he wouldn't be attractive at all. With the mixture of what he heard was English and Japanese, he was simply beautiful.

"Oh, yes" he replied. Even though he was somewhat happy to see him, it came out all emotionless.

"It's so nice to see you again" Daisuke said, stepping toward him, "I – I'm sorry about your parents. Your loss must have been very hard for you."

"It was," Goro nodded, fiddling with the rope in his hands. Daisuke's eyes glanced over him, noticing the rope.

"Oh, were you doing some DIY?" he chuckled. Goro nodded.

"Mind if I give you a hand?" he asked.

"That won't be necessary, I think I know what I'm doing" Goro said, waving, "I should go. It was nice seeing you again, Mr. Amaya."

"Wait!" Daisuke exclaimed, just as Goro turned around. He turned back around to face him again, only to see he was even closer. Goro's heart began to race as the smell of his cologne filled his nostrils.

"I would really like to catch up with you. You were my star pupil, after all" Daisuke insisted.

Goro hesitated, looking down at the rope. It would have to wait until later.

"Sure," he said, motioning with his hand, "follow me."

Daisuke jogged a little to catch up with Goro, who was a fast walker.

"How have you been?" Daisuke asked him. Goro shrugged.

Daisuke raised a brow. Goro started to feel guilty for acting so disinterested, so he responded.

"I've been okay. How about you?" he asked his old teacher. Daisuke looked up at the sky as he replied.

"I've been doing well. Job is going fine."

"I'm glad to hear it" Goro said coldly.

Daisuke looked down at him. The conversation was growing cold – fast. There was nothing he could do to stop it. It made him feel awkward. This kid, who was once bubbly and sweet had become completely damaged – he could tell immediately.

They reached Goro's apartment in silence. For a while, Daisuke considered telling him he had other plans, but something told him to stay with him. Something deep inside.

"This is a nice place," Daisuke said, as they entered Goro's apartment. Goro nodded.

"A bit small, though" he replied to his old teacher. Daisuke nodded.

"It's just a bit smaller than my living room."

Goro didn't respond.

After a few seconds, he stood. "I need to use the bathroom. Feel free to make yourself some tea. The people from the orphanage left me some."

"Awesome. I will do just that!" Daisuke said happily. Goro just stared at him blankly before entering the bathroom. Daisuke let out an exasperated sigh, as he approached the kettle. He switched it on after filling it up with water, then started to pace around the apartment while he waited. He glanced around. He kind of felt sorry for the kid – his place was TINY. He was boxed in for sure. A piece of paper caught his eye then, as it lay on the dresser. He approached the dresser, taking the paper in his hands and reading it. His eyes widened.

He read it over and over and over again.

The kid was going to commit suicide…? Were things really that bad for him? As he heard the toilet flush, he put the paper back down and hurried over to the counter where the kettle had just finished boiling. He made them two cups of tea, and then Goro left the bathroom, wiping his wet hands on his jeans.

"I need to buy some hand towels" he said to him. Daisuke looked down, a sadness in his heart. He had to help him. He HAD TO.

"Goro, I know that I am not your teacher anymore," he started, pouring some water into Goro's cup, "and I know that you may tell me that it is absolutely none of my business but-what was the rope really for?"

Goro seemed taken aback by his question, before his eyes darted over to the note like he had just remembered it was there. Which, he had just remembered. He felt so stupid, leaving it there in plain sight! He had just completely forgotten about the note. All that was on his mind was getting rid of Daisuke so that he could do the deed.

"I-" he froze.

"Tell me" Daisuke said softly, handing him his cup of tea, "I promise I won't judge you. I just want to help you."

"Help me?" Goro immediately scoffed.

"Yes."

"Nobody's ever wanted to help me. What's in it for you?"

"There is nothing in it for me at all," Daisuke said to him, "I assure you I just wish to help."

Goro pursed his plump lips.

"I was going to hang myself" he admitted, tears forming in his eyes as he spoke those words aloud.

Now that he spoke it to somebody, he wanted to be saved. He didn't want to die. He started to sob as a shocked Daisuke watched him. That was the first time he had ever seen the boy cry.

"P-please help me" he cried into his sleeve, "I need someone to help me."

Daisuke set his tea down on the counter, approaching the young man. He wrapped his arms around his frail, shaking body, holding him close. His natural smell filled his nostrils, making him smile. The boy was so warm, and cozy – yet so damaged and broken. It made him want to cry, too.

"

What do you want me to do?" he asked softly.

"Anything," Goro sobbed, "just don't let me die."

"You won't die," Daisuke replied warmly, "I promise I won't let you die."

Goro continued to sob into his chest, saturating his shirt.

He couldn't believe how warm the other felt, as he wrapped his arms around him. He nuzzled his cheek against his chest.

"You're not alone, Goro" Daisuke told him, pulling back ever so slightly, "you don't have to live alone."

"I don't?" Goro gasped. The excitement in that gasp made Daisuke feel saddened.

"You don't" he said, "let's pack your things. To my apartment we go."

Goro clapped his hands together excitedly, rushing around and picking up the one suitcase he had, and packing all of his little belongings into it. He picked up the suicide note, looking at Daisuke – who was already watching him. He crumpled it up, then threw it in the whicker basket, which acted as a waste bin.

"I don't need that" he said to Daisuke, walking up to him. Daisuke patted his head.

"I'm glad" he said, motioning towards the door, "come on. Let's go home."

They left the apartment, and Daisuke drove them both to his two-bedroom apartment just a ten-minute ride away.As he entered, Goro registered that everything felt homely and cozy. Some of his teaching equipment, such as his test papers and calculator for checking answers, were placed on his coffee table. The smell of Febreze filled his nostrils. It was so clean, apart from two coffee cups which sat unwashed in the sink. Daisuke brought him upstairs with a movement of his hand, and showed him his bedroom, which was even bigger than his studio apartment!

"I'll let you get changed for bed" Daisuke said, "you have pajamas, right?"

"I do" Goro nodded, watching Daisuke move towards his new bedroom door.

"Mr. Amaya!" he suddenly called. Daisuke turned to look at him, surprised he had called him that.

"Are you sure this is okay?" he asked. Daisuke chuckled, nodding.

"I am more than delighted to help you out, Goro. Oh, and it's Daisuke."

Goro's eyes widened slightly. Of course, he felt so stupid. He wasn't his teacher anymore; he hadn't been for two years.

Daisuke left him, and Goro got changed into his blue and black striped pajamas. He glanced at himself in the full-length mirror, which hung by the door. A small, barely noticeable smile formed on his face as he observed his features.

Happiness. The third and final emotion he felt that day. Pure and utter happiness. Maybe life would get better for him, after all.