Disclaimer: If Sekirei was mine, there would be a lot less boobs, and a lot more guys with their danglymatangtangs dangling out and goin' at it with each other.

Warnings: Mentions of non-con sex for this chapter only.

Prologue

"What exactly are ya good for?" Rough hands, grabbing at places only the right person should touch, but he was not the right person.

No one ever was.

"God, yer such a pathetic excuse for a Sekirei. Aren't they supposed to, y'know, have special powers or somethin'? You dun 'ave anythin'."

He never had anything. No worth, no will, no freedom. His wrists burned from the leather bonds, from futile struggles as he tried to get as far away from his captor as possible.

"Good lord, you ain't even good for sex, all ya do is cry n' scream. No moanin', nothin'. Didn't yer whore of a momma teach ya anythin'?"

No, of course not. She only ever provided the same degradations this man was now, the same abuse. She wasn't a whore however. That job fell to him. He groaned as he felt something large and hard slip roughly into him, his own blood being the only lubricant. He stifled the scream threatening to spill forth from his throat, the pain nearly too much to bear.

"You'da thought bein' Sekirei number 999 would give ya special powers or somethin', but yer just a defect, ain'tcha?"

The same insults, the same acerbic truths. Sekirei 999, the only whore to countless Ashikabi, the only worthless being.

The only experiment, the only mistake.

Minato woke up with a start, breaths coming out as short gasps as his body shot up into an upright position. Fighting to keep calm and momentarily disorientated by the nightmare, he glanced around the room, unsure as to where he was. As his eyes fell onto the prone body besides him, memories of the night rushed forwards in bitter recollection.

His client, another sleezy Ashikabi who had decided to wing him and then was going to inevitably reject the claim the following day, had gotten rough with him and had verbally and physically abused him the entire night. The Sekirei wasn't sure why he had even woken up confused—it wasn't as if clientele mistreatment was a new experience for him.

This was his second day at the Ume no Uzume host club, the latest cover-up for a brothel he had been circulated into. He'd been handed off by countless whore houses in the past after multiple complaints of his performance being "too mundane," "too prone to tears," "unsatisfactory."

Worthless.

It was more so due to his lack of powers than his average performance in bed, that much he knew. Every Sekirei had a talent, an ability, or an inherent power that made him or her useful to an Ashikabi. Each Sekirei was also destined for a single Ashikabi, his or her one special person.

Sekirei 999, rumored to be the most unique, the most devastatingly powerful, the most exotic Sekirei. That was why he always attracted so much attention in the whorehouses—every Ashikabi who got word of him wanted to wing him, wanted to be that one special person, so that his powers would belong to them.

Minato scoffed at the thought, shaking his head incredulously.

What a joke. He was unique and exotic alright—he had absolutely no powers, and he could accept the claim of more than one Ashikabi, in exchange for painful tattoo-like scars across his back that remained even after the Ashikabi rejected him after discovering that he possessed absolutely nothing. He really was a whore, through and through.

Cautiously sliding off the bed so as to avoid disturbing his client, Minato padded softly to the large mirror situated in the corner of the room, picking up his discarded clothes from off the floor along the way. He avoided looking at his face, knowing that all he would see was haunted brown eyes encircled by deep shadows, visage mottled by purple bruises, and turned to examine his back.

The tattoos and scars left behind by unsuccessful claims formed an extravagant clockwork that would inevitably cover the entirety of his back. Each claim created a new gear to the clockwork, most the size of his outstretched palm, all of which overlapped tightly with one another. So far, the clockwork seemed to be half complete, starting from the second ridge of his spine reaching the area right where his spine began to curve outwards.

Minato's client had already told him that he didn't want him as a Sekirei after their session last night, so the newest proof of rejection, a solid black gear, was situated right in the center of the black.

Any Ashikabi who bedded him always remarked at the beauty of the incomplete markings—the only beautiful thing about him, they would later say—but to Minato, it was a sign that he was running out of him.

Running out of time to find his Ashikabi.

Running out of time to find his one special person.

Running out of time to be loved.

"Get back in bed, ya worthless excuse for a Sekirei. Ye ain't nothin' to look at it, might as well warm me up in the mornin'." The gruff rebuke snapped Minato out of his depressing internal reverie, and he quickly walked back towards the bed his client was lounging in and settled in between the outstretched arms.

An hour later, after a twenty dollar bill had been thrown into his face followed by a parting, "Ye ain't even worth that much," Minato was still in bed, awaiting his next client, awaiting his next Ashikabi.

Minato figured he would be waiting for a long, long time.

AN: Whoaa, hey there, to anyone who's reading this fic right here at the moment. You, my friend, have just experienced the complete and utter joy of reading my very first fanfiction. Not that thrilled? Well, ouch. Not that great? Double ouch.

I'm just kidding.

To be honest, I had my doubts about posting my first fanfic in the Sekirei fandom. The fanbase is rather...bare, and I highly doubt popularity will be attained very readily. Not to mention, writing a slash fic for a series that's comprised of BOOBS GALOREwill most likely not go down too well, though it seems that my complete and utter love for Minato has won that argument.

As you may be able to tell, this fic is unbetaed, and I would love to hear feedback from those who read it in regards to errors in grammar, spelling, awkward transitions and/or flow, and of course, how much you utterly enjoyed reading it (On second thought, this prologue was rather depressing. Tell me how much it made your soul cry out. Too Shakespearian? Well, darn). Of course, kidding again-I would really appreciate any honest feedback, so help a new writer out and click that review button for me, yeah?

Updates will be slow because I am forever a writer without a plan, but you know what they say about reviews being the greatest motivators ;D