Disclaimer: I don't own Samurai Deeper Kyo. :P I hate you all.

Hi everybody! This is my first SDK fic, and I'm hoping that someone likes it. :D A bit of general info...

This story is an AU (or Alternate Universe).

The main pairing is Kyo/Yuya, and other pairings may show up along the way.

Most of this story is in Yuya's perspective, and I'll let you know if it changes.

And without further ado, on with the story!

His Pet

I suppose that the Japan I know is much different than what you're accustomed with, and trust me, I would take yours any day. Sadly, I live in this world, and I don't see much good in it. You see, women are oppressed here. We are seen as mere objects, possessions, and, disgracefully, toys. Dogs are often treated much better than women, they at least get fed. A woman's life depends solely on the temperament, wealth, and generosity of the man who buys her. Unlucky women end up catching the attention of someone... unfavorable. Although, if you have gods on your side, you might actually attract someone worthwhile, who'll feed you and treat you civilly. Yet, that kind of man is very, very rare now. Most men would rather buy a woman just to toss her into a harem to sit and rot until she either dies of starvation, disease, or some injury.

Until they become old enough for sale, girls lived in cold, cramped buildings in the middle of nowhere. They called them "Academies". I have no idea why, we didn't learn anything important. Deserts, islands, mountain ranges... These facilities were built all around the world, but they were all in secluded areas. There was no way to escape from these buildings, and many girls die before they are sold. I was raised in a building in the middle of vast plains. Serene and very different from the other enclosures, my building seemed like heaven to any visiting man. Of course, visiting men only saw the "accomplished" young ladies that showed great promise. Upstarts like me, we were always kept in the back, in individual little rooms that I could never call "home". My room was always just a cage to me.

I should never have been here. If my brother hadn't died, if he hadn't been murdered...

My instructors never liked me. There was always something wrong with what I did. I wasn't walking gracefully enough, or I poured the tea far too quickly. I talked back, or I ate too much, or I didn't do exactly what the people told me to. Once I turned twelve, the lectures started to go in a different direction: my sale value. They were starting to worry that I would never mature, that I would always be a little upstart and I would never get sold. So, from the minute I turned twelve to the day that they shipped me off, which was my fourteenth birthday, all I heard about was my sizes. It was either my figure didn't even hold a minute resemblance to an hourglass, or my legs were far too skinny, or, being the most popular, my chest was practically nonexistent and I would never get a man with a lack of breasts. Frankly, I didn't care.

I still don't care. Even after they transferred me to my isolated cage to a large cage with a bunch of other women, I just don't give a damn. Of course, these cages are in plain sight of any man that happens to walk by. Any random shopper can glance in at the goods and request to see someone up close, or pass by. This results in what I would call a total lack of privacy. I hate it here. It's disgusting to see filthy old perverts walk by my prison every day and leer and the poor women who are trying to change into clean clothes.

Well, I was called out once or twice by some of those gross perverts, and, well, they don't call anymore. If anyone even asks about me, the watchers (our "guards") immediately tell the inquiring person what a bother I am and that I'm not worth the time. In fact, I've been here for two and a half years now. The watchers keep saying that they should just send me away. Ditch me somewhere. I couldn't be happier if they threw me into the middle of the Sahara Desert. At least I would be away from here and not in the clutches of some filthy old man who just wants another whore. Another year and they would have. One more year and I could be very far away from men, and Academies, and cages for as long as I lived! Sure, I probably wouldn't last very long where they'd send me, but I'd die free, and that's better than wasting away here or in some harem.

I was so close, and I could have escaped from this world if it hadn't been for the Bantouji Brothers, and a certain red-eyed asshole named Demon Eyes Kyo.