[Sukamoka Vol. 3] Chapter 4 Part 3: The Captive Rebel

I am in a strange place.

In front of me is the back of an unfamiliar person.

He is a tall man wearing a military uniform. Short black hair. As far as I can see, the man doesn’t possess any visible markings. His shoulders are slumped with the weight of deep weariness.

“I wanted to give them happiness,” the man mutters to himself softly. “I wanted to show them it was fine for them to feel joy.”

I feel as if I have heard these worries before. I’m reassured that people who think about the same things can be found anywhere.

…I also think it’s kind of stupid to be worried. I might not know who ‘they’ are, but if they were showered in such strong, direct feelings, then couldn’t that be called happiness too?

---

The first thing Feodor felt was a chilly sensation. Shivering slightly and not entirely understanding where he was, he opened his eyes and looked around.

He was in a cramped room. Dreary copper sheets formed the walls, floor, and ceiling. Near one wall there was a hole in the floor as a makeshift toilet. He looked down to find a thin mat, turned hard by moisture. It was all illuminated by a purple electric lamp set into the wall.

In short, Feodor concluded, it was most likely a solitary confinement cell. He had never been in one personally until now, but he knew they existed. Convicts who couldn’t be put in cells with other occupants, especially insurrectionists, were given their very own private rooms in prison.

He briefly wondered why he was there before the memories began returning to him. “Ah… right, I remember now. That happened.”

Sneaking into the Pickle Barrel. Looking inside the wooden box that was the Great Sage’s inheritance. Getting caught red-handed by the First Officer. Trying to escape, failing, and being knocked out.

All of that led to one conclusion: Feodor Jessman had thoroughly botched a plan that allowed no room for failure.

He had no idea what he might’ve been charged with, but doubtless it wasn’t anything light. At the very least, it would assure no more opportunities of this kind ever appeared again.

He felt as if a hole had opened up in his heart.

“Heh… heh heh…”

Tears spilled out. He couldn’t hold back his self-ridicule anymore.

Certainly, the shock from the way he’d utterly failed was a terrible blow. But more than that, what overwhelmed Feodor was something else. He had intended to pour his entire life into his plan, and he had assumed he would burn to ashes with failure. Maybe he’d suffer, writhing, on the brink of death, or else be rendered insensible, all capacity for thought gone? That level of obliteration was what he’d prepared himself for.

But now what filled his chest was neither disappointment nor despair. He felt liberation.

“What an unsightly story…”

He only had to think for a short time to figure out why.

Feodor Jessman was an outrageous liar. For five years, he’d deceived himself. He had pretended to not notice his own feelings, clinging to platitudes like ‘for the future’ or ‘for justice’ with all he had. Because that was what his brother-in-law had done.

His older brother-in-law, who was strong, wise, and – more than anything – righteous. The figure he looked up to and cherished. He’d wanted to be like his brother-in-law, but at the same time he resolved himself to not make the same mistakes. Shouldering the burden of justice, dreaming of the future – those were his reasons for moving forward, fighting, deceiving, exhausting his heart and years. And in the end…

In the end, I fell far short of my brother-in-law, rotting away in this cell.

“…Hm?”

While still embroiled in his self-loathing, Feodor faintly sensed something at the edges of his perception. Muffled, indistinct footsteps approaching.

A jailer seemed unlikely. Given their position, they had no reason to conceal their presence. But other than jailers, who could it be? The solitary confinement cells were nowhere near the level of the Pickle Barrel, but they still had an appropriate level of security. And yet, someone had snuck in past those watchful eyes.

An assassin?

A plausible scenario came to mind. Someone sent by Giggir to seal his mouth permanently and ensure he didn’t leak any names.

Yes, that’s definitely possible, Feodor thought. After all, Giggir was an Orc merchant. The same as those who’d exploited, discarded, and killed his older brother-in-law as a pawn in their business transactions.

But he had no intentions of resenting Giggir. The one who’d chosen to join hands with the Orc and to build a supposed relationship of trust with him was none other than Feodor himself. He had been ready from the start for this kind of ending.

Still, it’s not as if I want to die… Though… I’m a little tired.

While he was absorbed in his thoughts, the footsteps had come to a stop in front of his cell. A whispering voice called out to him.

“Hey, Feodor. You in there?”

It was a girl’s voice. His eyes snapping open, Feodor shot to his feet and grabbed the door. The peephole was too small and he couldn’t see outside too clearly, but even so–!

“Lakish?!”

“Shut it, idiot!” she hissed. “Keep it down!”

“That’s beside the point! What are – you’re a deserter! Do you even have any plan for what you’re going to do if anyone sees you?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine! I’ve got a nice disguise on. They aren’t gonna see through it so easily.”

“But still… hold on, in the first place, why in the world are you here?”

“Huh? What’s the matter with you?” He could hear the incredulity in her voice. “I heard you got yourself caught. I couldn’t just sit still after knowing that, could I?”

Words failed him.

“What, is it that surprising? Wouldn’t you have done the same thing if our positions were reversed?”

“T-That’s different! You’re a girl, and a fairy besides! You’ve got a way bigger right and obligation to be valued than someone like me!”

“Alright, I don’t mind you treating me like a dainty princess, but can you pick a better time and place for it?”

A small shrill sound rang out from the other side of the door as the lock was cut, and it swung open to reveal Lakish. 

He had wondered what sort of disguise she would be wearing. It was far more proper than what he’d expected. She had on a simple, location-appropriate military uniform and a long red wig. That was all, but even just that apparel gave her a very different impression. If someone was to see her from afar, there shouldn’t be any concern that they’d recognize her as Lakish Nyx Seniolis.

“…How did you even get here? I didn’t think there’d be any way for you to know where I was or how to get inside this place.”

“Wow, more questions? How annoying.” Lakish glared at him flatly, then sighed. “I dunno how to say it properly, but it’s like I somehow just knew where you were? It was like a voice in my head going ‘he’s this way’ and telling me how far to go.”

“Do you mean it was your intuition?”

“I think? It was a bit creepy, but…” she smiled happily. “I’m glad I trusted it. Because of that, I ended up finding you.”

By rights, it should’ve been difficult to believe. Common sense would tell anyone to laugh it off as silly. But somehow, Feodor felt as if he’d experienced something similar before. Back in the rain-filled city, when he’d been looking for Lakish after she escaped, he had been able to find her easily – too easily.

Maybe there’s a connection?

Just as he was about to ask her for more details, he noticed something peculiar. Someone was approaching them, their footsteps intentionally quiet with almost all sound eliminated.

“Kh–!”

His gut screamed at him to hide, but where? Into the room behind them? No, he wouldn’t make it in time. Then what could he do?

Before Feodor could decide on a plan, his body had already begun moving. He grabbed Lakish and forcefully hugged her close to him, pressing her face into his chest. There might’ve been a few muffled protests, but he ignored them as he flattened their bodies against the wall and suppressed their presence.

If he laid in wait here, he could catch them by surprise and knock them unconscious. It’d be difficult to spring an attack from a position like this, but not being able to do it would put both him and Lakish in danger anyway.

Resolving himself, Feodor clenched his right hand into a fist and–

“Hey, hey, you two! It’s fine t’ get all intimate, but ain’t there any better time ‘n place for it?”

That was a familiar voice.

“…Nax?”

Hearing his friend, all the tension melted away from Feodor. He could hear muffled, distressed mumbling coming from the figure ensnared by his arms.

---

As Feodor stepped out of the prison, he looked up at the sky.

Naturally, the sun had set long ago, and the moon was shining brightly above. As if avoiding its brilliance, they weaved through the shadowy buildings as they walked.

Once they were deep within the depths of the forest, Feodor finally took a calming breath. This place had been left overgrown so that the clamor from the parade grounds wouldn’t reach the barracks. Since the greenery shielded them from prying eyes as well, they wouldn’t need to worry about anyone catching them by surprise.

“He showed me how to get in there,” Lakish said sullenly. Feodor had already apologized to her after letting her go, but it didn’t seem as if she’d forgiven him yet. “The guard schedule and hidden paths too. He’s the one who got this uniform for me as well.”

“I’m s’pposed to just be dealin’ in info,” Nax grumbled, folding his arms and turning away as he sat down. “Bein’ on the scene like this ain’t part o’ the job.”

“Even if you say that, you still came to rescue me. I’m honestly surprised.”

“Hey, it ain’t like I wanted t’ bail ya out! It’s just someone asked me to, so I had to.”

“Someone did?” Feodor glanced at Lakish, then looked back at Nax. “Who?”

“Pros don’t give away the names o’ their clients so easily, ya know?”

“When I heard you’d been arrested, I talked to Giggir and told him I wanted to save you and needed help. Then he went and hired this guy as my guide.”

“H-Hey, Lakish! Didn’t ya hear what I jus’ said?!”

“What? I’m not a pro like you. It’s not a problem, right?” Lakish smirked at the Falcon as he grumbled under his breath.

“…Giggir?” Feodor blinked. “For me?”

“Well, ya know…” Nax scratched his cheek awkwardly. “Orcs might not care much ‘bout individuals, but they’ve got a heck of a community bond. Happens pretty often that one of ‘em jumps right into danger for one o’ their own kind.”

“I’m not even an Orc, though? Someone like me who’s a burden should’ve been abandoned. I wouldn’t be of any use to them now that I’ve been dishonorably discharged.”

“Nah, nah, ya don’t get it.” Nax chuckled. “He’s jus’ a big ol’ friendly pig when ya get down t’ it. Once he’s decided yer a friend he’ll never abandon you.”

He paused, then slowly got up. “Anyway… This is as far as I can get the two o’ ya. After here it’s up t’ ya. My alibi’s that I’m spendin’ time with a ladyfriend. I’ve gotta hurry up ‘n get back if I want to have my story line up. If you make it to Giggir’s place, he oughta be able t’ take care of ya, one way or the other.”

With that, the Falcon turned to leave.

This could be the last time we see each other.

That thought flashed through Feodor’s mind. He’d already been discharged; he wouldn’t be able to rely on Nax for information again in the future.

“Nax.”

“What’s up?” The Falcon didn’t look back.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done up to now. I’m grateful, really.”

“…Quit that. All I’ve ever done is just my job.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Nax snorted slightly and resumed walking away.

Even putting aside how their situation wouldn’t allow for any teary farewells, avoiding sappy conversations like that was very much like him. Feodor found himself smiling involuntarily.

“I feel like I just saw two guys understand each other,” Lakish muttered. “Disgusting.”

For some reason she seemed to be in a bad mood, but Feodor decided to not address that just yet.

“Well, whatever. We’ve got to get going too.” Lakish started walking. “I doubt it’ll take them much more time to figure out you’ve escaped… Feodor?”

She stopped and looked back. He was still standing in the same place.

“What’s the matter?”

“…Don’t worry about it.”

What is this situation? He hid his discomfiture behind a carefully blank expression.

Feodor Jessman’s true colors had been exposed. He’d proven that there was nothing he could do and nothing he should do. No one had realized that, and that was why they still chose to work hand in hand with him.

To have all their hopes piled on him now, when he couldn’t be any more disappointed in himself, was simply too painful. His bitter guilt couldn’t be suppressed any longer.

“You go ahead. There’s something I have to do before I go.”

“Wait, wha–?”

He held up a hand to stop the questions she was about to barrage him with. “It’ll be easier for me to go alone. Don’t worry. I’ll catch up afterwards.”

---

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