Miko sat in the cold dark cell, alone, in pain, and afraid.
She did not know where she was, or who had placed her here in this scary place, but she wanted someone, anyone, to find her, and rescue her.
She did remember one thing though, before blacking out:
That man.
That man with the yellow hair and blue eyes and black cloak with red clouds on it. He must've brought her here.
Miko wriggled around in the bloody sheet that was wrapped around her. She let in a sharp intake of breath when her inner thighs stung painfully; her head pounded a steady rhythm, and her back ached terribly.
That's right: Daddy had given her a customer to pleasure before she got here...
Miko lay on her bed, crying softly...and bleeding. The naked customer beside her sat up and proceeded to put his boxers and pants on.
"Not bad girl, not bad." He muttered. "More than I expected from a three-year-old."
Miko waited patiently until he closed the door to her room before wrapping herself in the sheet on her bed, which had blotches of dried blood and semen all over the mattress.
She began sobbed quietly, letting the tears trickle down her pale cheeks.
'W-Why?... W-Why d-does this keep happening to m-me?' She whispered in her head.
A few minutes later, her ears perked up to the sound of a bloodcurdling scream outside her room, then a muffled boom that shook the bed and made plaster fall from the cracked ceiling.
'W-What's happening?' She thought out of natural in-born childish curiosity and apprehension.
She heard the doorknob jiggle, but no one entered because the stranger had locked it when he left. Miko attempted to rise from the bed, but her legs hurt so much that she couldn't move. She covered herself with the sheet to hide from the intruder trying to enter her room.
Almost as soon as she was completely shrouded in the thin fabric, Miko heard another boom, louder this time, closer. She held her breath as the door blasted apart, along with some of the wall.
The dust from the explosion made it difficult for her to see through the sheet, but when it cleared, she could see the rough outline of two figures. They were shadows on the other side of the fabric, blurry colored ghosts.
Miko's heart pounded in her chest a hundred miles a minute as one individual stepped towards the bed, their feet crunching on the plaster and wood that littered the floor. Miko dared not move, but she so desperately wanted to; she was frozen. She saw it reach down and grasp the sheet, tugging at it firmly.
The naked girl was unveiled before him, and oh so very vulnerable. Miko gasped quietly at the new breeze that hit her bare, white skin; a draft was blowing through the new hole where the door once was, bringing new air to the foul, stale room where she had always resided. Timidly, she raised her head to gaze upon the intruders.
She couldn't see their faces well, for they were overshadowed by the dim light and the large straw hats with long white ribbons trailing (Miko noticed that, whenever they moved, a little tinkling of bells could be heard. Looking closely, it was revealed that indeed, their hats were adorned with hanging needles, and attached to those needles were tiny bells. How odd...) , but what she could make out were their clothes.
Both wore identical black cloaks with red clouds on them. Very long they were, hiding their hands with a collar that also hid the lower half of their faces.
One had long sleek, shiny, yellow hair that covered half the face, and the other had a short messy red that shrouded his eyes. Add the long hair on both men, the large coats and hats, it was impossible to find out their identity, in Miko's eyes. But she was sure she would not have recognized them without the get-up. She didn't know many people, truth be told.
They were both men, though. Both very intimidating to the young child.
The yellow haired figure, who was the taller of the two, held the sheet in his hand, and smirked behind the high lip of his black collar.
"Look, Sasori-no-Danna, I found someone, un."
"I can see that, brat." The one with the red hair replied coldly. He removed his hat, resulting in more sweet tinkling of those little bells as he did so. His hair was an unruly carmine which complimented what Miko could see of his cherubic face. His eyes were half-open and the color of a pastel brown. Overall, it gave Miko the impression that he was about to fall asleep.
The red one took a step closer to the nasty bed, and Miko hugged herself, making sure to hide the between of her legs very well.
"Pitiful." he muttered, reaching down with a long-sleeved hand to touch her. Miko panicked, and quickly executed the only form of defense she could at the time:
She clamped her little teeth down on the man's hand.
Miko winced a little as her gums immediately began ache; such a throbbing pain! She had expected to bite into skin. But this! This was as hard as—as—as wood!
The man stared, then proceeded to titter in amusement and without mirth, not seeming to be affected by the futile attack by the child in the slightest. He lifted his arm experimentally, and the girl held on, grabbing a hold of his sleeve with both hands and clutching for dear life.
Another laugh reached her ears, crueler and colder than before.
"This brat is spunky, I'll give her that..—." He bent his elbow so his hand grazed his breast and swiftly snapped it back straight. Miko let go despite herself and bulleted past his long-haired partner, who turned his head to follow her progress across the room.
She put her small, infantile hands out in front of her face to shield herself from the impact of the stone-grey wall. Her head slammed into the barrier and Miko felt her back crack painfully. She fell, eyes closed, to the floor, whimpering pitifully. The scent of sawdust and rubble filled her mouth and nose, and she coughed and spat it out.
Miko sat up to find the evil man standing before her. She held her hands out again as his hand came at her again. She could see the little dents where she had bitten him.
She gave a sharp cry as she was lifted by her short, dark hair. The stranger's hand was a fist in the child's locks, and he held a deaf ear to the yelps of pain and small moans emitted from the little imp.
—But that can be quickly fixed." he finished. He looked to his partner-in-crime, who remained static, looking dumb and useless with a blank expression behind the cloak and hat. He was still holding onto the linen.
"Well?" he asked, beginning to get impatient very quickly now. His partner didn't react at first.
"Well what?"
"Deidara, you are useless!" Miko let out a little squeak of protest, for the pain in her scalp was becoming unbearable fast. She was about to scream, but it died when something cold and sharp was placed underneath her small chin. She looked to the left to find that evil man looking to her with cold eyes. Everything else on his face was blank, stoic, unreal.
Tears came to her eyes, and when all hope seemed lost, the partner of the would-be Miko murderer spoke.
"Sasori-no-Danna, wait. She's just a kid un." Miko heard something in his voice. Concern? Worry?
The redhead did not yield, neither his hold on her hair nor the position of his kunai against the girl's throat.
"So? You've never had a problem with me killing children before." He shook her small, thin body a little for emphasis. Miko held back a cry.
The other took a step forward to the pair. "True, but I think we should leave this one alone. She's obviously been used as a prostitute. Look how bad she is un."
Sasori took a moment to do a once-over at the product of a whore he held in his hand. Scars, bruises, dried blood and semen splattering her buttocks...
.
.
Worthless trash.
.
.
"Another reason to murder this whelp. One less mouth to feed. One less parentless child that will most likely contribute nothing to society."
"Danna, that's pretty harsh. Look at her, she's shaking un!" He gestured to Miko, and indeed she was. It was getting to be so cold... She just wanted to lie on the dirty, old bed and nap..She wanted those two go away, just go away, and never come back. Their voices were hurting her ears.
"Oh, will you shut up already?" Sasori snarled at his suddenly sentimental junior, "I don't care what we do with it! Why don't you take it with us, hm? Maybe you can be its Daddy! I just want to be out of this dump and on the road to the Rain village before sundown!"
'God! Why is it that every mission I go on with this brat I always find myself screaming at him?' Sasori thought bitterly.
He watched through narrowing eyes as his partner gasped in excitement.
"That's a great idea, Danna! I can be her Daddy un!"
Sasori sighed in defeat, and dropped the arm that held the kunai. He stowed it in his sleeve, and sighed again, tiredly.
"Fine, do whatever you want with her. But I am not being held responsible in the slightest!" And with that, the weary man released his hold on the girl, sending her crumbling to the floor.
She landed on the insulation, splintered wood, and plaster. It wasn't a very comfortable landing, to say the least..There was dust in her eyes, in her nose, and it was a supporting cause of the tears falling down her face.
There was the sound of crunching plaster and wood splintering again, and then it stopped. Right next to her...
.
.
The tinkling of bells... the whisper of cloth...the breath of a man...the tears of a child…
.
.
Wrapped in thin linen, cradled in strong, steady arms.. as though cherished, beloved. Miko glanced up, and noticed immediately that the stranger's crown was bare of the hat. She took this moment to study his character:
He had golden blonde hair, and she saw that he had half of it up in a high ponytail, held with a scarlet ribbon. The untethered part fell over the left side of his face in a long wave. He wore a headband and there in the middle was a symbol. Miko had seen a few men with headbands that were engraved with symbols, but she had never seen this one before. It looked like a big rock that had a small chunk broken away. He had lightly tanned skin and sharp blue eyes; they seemed to analyze what was brought before him, and he looked like someone who would judge accordingly, yet sometimes make mistakes all the same.
"Hm?" The man had caught her staring. He leaned his head forward, and gave her a smile. Miko's breath caught in her chest, weighing her down, making it difficult for her brain to will anything to move.
The smirk was crooked and seemed to hold many messages for her all at once:
.
Teasing and cruel..
Haughty and stubborn...
Kind and sympathetic..
Comforting and safe..
Trustworthy and...and..
.
.
.
Gentle.
.
"C'mon Sasori-no-Danna, let's go un." His hand was in her hair now, but instead of pulling, he began to stroke softly, massaging her scalp here and there, relieving the sharp stinging pain that his partner had caused a few moments before. Miko's shoulders, which had been nearly raised up to her ears at the thought of more hair-pulling, relaxed themselves.
He had by now turned, and was making his way towards that drafty hole in the wall where the two men had made their entrance. She was leaving with him, Miko realized, with them.
The irritated 'Sasori' expressed his annoyance and displeasure with a simple 'Tch'.
The last bit of memory Miko had of this incident before blacking out was the sight of her last customer, slumped against the wall with his face blasted apart and his brain matter a bloody splatter on the wall behind him...
Light flooded into the small, dark room as the cell door softly creaked open; Miko didn't bother lifting her head to see who it was.
She didn't need to, for she already knew who it was as he quietly closed the door and strolled over to where she crouched against the stone-cold wall of the depressing room.
That man.
He knelt down in front of her, and stared at her with those sharp blue eyes of his.
"Hey un." Miko didn't reply, but stared fearfully at him with wide eyes, terrified of what he might have in store for her.
He silently reached for a corner of her sheet and pulled, trying to open up the cloth round her legs. Miko shoved his hand away.
"N-Nah! Nah!" He ignored her.
"I want to see your legs, little girl. I want to know if you're still hurt, un." He explained, calm and soft. He made attempt after attempt, but she still kept batting his hands away in frustration and growing hysteria.
"N-Nah, n-nah! Gnah!"
Miko didn't mean to be so unreasonable, she wanted him to help her, but…she really didn't know what she wanted from him, in truth.
His hand suddenly made its way to her face, and Miko did the same thing to him as she had done to his partner: She immediately sank her teeth into his hand.
Miko was thankful that his hand was real skin and not wooden, like the redhead had been, but she regretted it all the same. Her bottom jaw felt something weird sliding in his palm. Something warm and wet…
"OW UN!" The man grabbed at her hair with his free hand, and after some grunting and prying of her jaws, roughly ripped his hand away from the hold she had on him, pushing her back to the wall and him falling on his backside in the process.
Miko watched in curiosity and with slight apprehension as he nursed his hand, shaking it in the air as if it were burning. He shot her a look of pure malice that made Miko instantly regret what she had just done.
They both had eyes locked on each other, and Deidara shuffled on his knees towards her. He stopped not even a foot from where she sat.
He smirked down at her, his face cast in a sinister shadow.
"You're gonna pay for that, you ungrateful brat." He muttered. Miko noticed that the nasally 'un' at the end of his sentence had disappeared.
She gulped.
In a blur, Miko's body traveled from side of the cell to another. Her still-hurting body slammed against the stone wall and was then sent tumbling to the floor face first. The cycle repeated itself three more times before Miko made a sound.
"M-MOMMY!"
Deidara paused, about to grab the girl again for another throw.
Mommy?
The sadism and thoughts of short-term vengeance that clouded his eyes now faded away. What was he doing, hurting an innocent little girl like this? She didn't mean to bite him. She was scared, that's all.
He was an S-rank criminal, but he, like most of the others in the Akatsuki, had morals.
Deidara reached down to take the girl in his arms like he had before when he first met her, to apologize and say that he had been way out of line, but she screamed as if in pure agony the second his fingertips touched the bloody sheet.
"M-Mama!" she cried.
Deidara quickly jerked his hand back, grimacing.
He took a deep breath, let it out, and tried once more.
Deidara grabbed her small shoulders, hauling her up in a sitting position. She thrashed around and screamed and sobbed as if any attempts to hold her would result in burning her alive.
She backed herself up into a corner in the desperation of a wild animal that does not want to be caught. Deidara shuffled after her, closing her in with outstretched arms, blocking any means of escape.
Miko's thoughts screamed in her in head. 'I don't want to, I don't want to, I don't want to! Mommy! Please help me, please! Make him go away! PLEASE!'
"Mama!" she sobbed, "Mama, Mama, Mama!"
"Calm down little girl, it's alright un!" Deidara yelled impatiently over her hysterics. She didn't seem to hear him at all, but continued to sob louder.
Deidara took her bundled-up body and shook it violently in an attempt to disrupt her wailing.
"CALM DOWN NOW, YOU'RE OKAY!" Deidara exclaimed. But she still wouldn't listen!
He realized that he'd have to knock some sense into her. Damn.
"I'm sorry un." he apologized somberly, raising a hand to her face...
SLAP.
Miko's head snapped to the side from the sharp blow, which immediately ceased all the noise she had been busy making. There were tears that were beginning to collect in her large, frightened eyes.
She inhaled shakily, hunching down to protect herself.
"...You're okay now un..." He repeated, softly.
His demeanor had now completely changed; all traces of hostility and anger were gone. In their place were the looks of sympathy and concern for her. Compassion for the poor girl.
But he was playing a trick. Miko had seen this a thousand times before. They pretended to calm down, but then would strike again, harder, when she was most vulnerable.
Deidara attempted to reach out and touch the girl, to apologize for his outlandish (yet necessary) behavior a moment ago, but she whimpered and leaned away from his hand.
But she had nowhere else to go being in a corner and all, so he could finally touch her without resistance.
He stroked the girl's red cheek with a gentle hand, soothing her flaming, stinging face with the slow caresses of his fingers and thumb.
Miko cried ever so softly from the seemingly sinister hand as it slowly rubbed against her burning face.
No... please..no...don't...hurt..me...please...
But soon, against her better judgment, she was resting her head in the soft palm.
She didn't want anymore pain. To achieve that she needed to give in to the man. He had the power now, but that wouldn't stop Miko from trying to beg for her savior.
"M-Mama." She whimpered softly, the tears slowly falling from her half-closed, pain-clouded eyes.
"Shh shh, little girl, it's okay un." His voice was barely a whisper, yet it carried throughout the chamber and echoed in her small ears.
Miko saw him shuffle a little bit closer to her, so close that he was nearly on top of her. Even from a perfectly safe distance away, she could feel his warm breath as he exhaled through slightly-parted lips; she had expected one as intimidating as he to emit a foul odor that would quickly leave one as young as her nauseous, as was the case from so many men she had the misfortune to meet. But it was not so, it just smelt…warm.
Gentle fingers tried to brush the droplets of pain and fear away from the little girl's cheeks, but no matter how hard Deidara tried, they only seemed to multiply and continue their rivers down the three-year-old's face.
"M-Mah-Mama…"
"Shhh un."
Miko could hear faint snaps, and realized that the man was unbuttoning his cloak, busying himself by taking his time to watch his fingers do their thing.
She closed her eyes and hid her face in her dirty hands. She didn't want to see him strip in front of her.
Deidara slowly gathered the small child into his arms, leaving the dirty sheet behind. He was very careful as he lifted the girl up, supporting the head and making sure that he was not groping her more than absolutely necessary in some areas.
He let the clearly weary child rest her little head against his warm chest within the open cloak; the man turned around and began heading toward the door.
Miko closed her eyes to the bright light that pricked at the corners of her vision as he walked out of the dreaded cell...
Miko shivered against the man's breast out of pure fear. Thoughts were running through her head at an alarming rate, swirling around and chasing each other by their tails..
Where was he taking her, and what was he going to do to her after they got there?
Was he going to hurt her more?
Why?
What had she done to the man for him to hurt her?
What had she done to anyone to have to be hurt like she had since she was a baby?
A tiny sob escaped Miko's throat at the realization of pain that she truly believed was coming her way, and clutched the man's shirt even more tightly in her tiny fists, trying—and failing—to prevent the tears from falling again.
Deidara felt the pull of fabric of his shirt and looked down. The small babe had resumed her crying, and now it looked like calming her down would be harder than it was barely a few minutes ago.
The Iwa nin hurried his walk to slow running down the labyrinth of hallways. He reached his room on the seventh turn of the corner and closed the door behind him.
Miko shivered in his arms. The room was cold, and even though she was protected from most of the air inside the black cloak, a breeze blew against the back her neck, chilling her and making goosebumps rise there.
"Oops." the man said. "Forgot to close the window, un." He took a few long steps, and then leaned down.
Deidara convinced her with gentle words and even gentler probing to let go and slowly and patiently pried her off his chest.
He then set the child down on something comfortably soft.
Miko opened her eyes and looked around.
She was on a bed with thick, warm black covers and large white pillows. The room was lit by a lamp on the bedside table near her, for it seemed to be dark out, she could tell from how little illumination the yellow light bulb cast overall. The floor was dark wood, as were the carelessly half closed closet doors across from where she sat.
Miko heard the man slide his window pane down with a smooth ssshhht, and then a soft sigh from behind her.
She suddenly realized she was all alone with this scary man. In his room. Naked.
Deidara watched as the little girl curled up into a small ball on his bed, making sure to close her legs and cover her head as much as possible. He let out another soft sigh, and shrugged off his Akatsuki's cloak.
He crept up behind the scared, unsuspecting child, and with a graceful, soundless sweep of this newly discarded attire, wrapped her in the safe, red-clouded covering.
Miko stiffened as something began to be wrapped around her shoulders loosely, like a blanket or something. She looked up to find the blonde man covering her with his cloak.
"There we go," he murmured as he began snapping a few buttons in place from the left of her, "Now you have something to wear until I find you some real clothes, un."
Miko held the surrounding fabric in three-year-old hands and pulled it closer to her body, making sure that everything was covered besides her head, and that the man would have no easy access to her wounded self.
A depression was formed next to her on the mattress, it squeaking in protest under the new weight. Miko looked to see him sitting to her left, so very very close.
Hands were held stretched over her head; the light bulb's failure to eliminate any shadows gave them the appearance of claws about to hook into her flesh.
"C'mere..."
Miko shut her eyes and hunched down so as to protect her head within the tent she had made. "Mnn..."
Her protests were only those sounds which come from the unparted lips of the frightened and the distressed.
The man lifted her into his lap as easily as he had into his own arms the first time the two had met, cloak and all.
"Nhha..." Miko smothered her face against the red insides of the cloak, avoiding his blue gaze, murmuring her distress in the quietest voice she could manage.
"Don't be scared," she heard him say, rocking ever so-slightly, "Deidara won't hurt you, yeah."
Deidara? Was that his name?
Miko peeked up at "Deidara" from the very high collar of the cloak, biting her lip slightly.
Deidara caught her gaze and stared down back at her, smiling that same smile as before, the one that told her so much about him. The fair hair that draped over the left side of his face hung near hers. She could smell it from her designated spot balanced on his firm thighs. Smelt clean and sweet, not like the mildew, dust, blood, cum, cigarettes, and alcohol that she was used to inhaling everyday from other men.
The small girl lifted her tiny stained and chipped front teeth from her lower lip high enough to make a small "O" with her mouth.
Then she buried her face into his shirt, like a baby that wants to be comforted by Mama.
The Iwa nin let out a soft, good-natured chuckle, and patted the little nestling's back reassuringly.
"She's so cute." he thought. So cute and so scared. He'd have to fix the latter soon. Make her feel more comfortable here. A guest, not a prisoner.
Deidara then realized that the girl hadn't made any major movements or audible sounds that she had begun to pattern out. He pulled back a part of the black collar of his cloak to investigate this new issue.
"Oh.." the blond whispered.
The little child had fallen asleep. Old, nearly dried tear tracks glinted against her soft exposed cheeks from the dim glowing lamplight. Her lips were pressed together tightly and her brow was furrowed worriedly, as if slumber was a challenging and scary ordeal for the small girl within itself.
Deidara heard not a sound when he gently laid her down in his bed. Nor when he pulled up the covers and tightly wrapped them around her frail body.
He sat himself in a chair at his working table and swiveled it around so at to keep an eye on the nameless girl (at least in Deidara's perspective, for she had not given him one).
She was silent still, occasionally making a peep in the form of tiny moans and whimpers caused by her dreams and past experiences replaying in her mind, no doubt. But other than that, she was dead quiet and just plain...dead-like.
Deidara yawned and threw an arm over the curve of the swiveling chair. There had been a mission before he had attended to the girl, and he had—admittedly—forgotten all about her until he had trudged right past the cell door numerous times.
Now, thinking about it, he felt guilty. The poor little thing had been all alone, broken off from any human contact for many hours in a dark and scary room, more than likely still in pain from the last man who had her less than twenty-four hours ago. He wouldn't blame her for being like she had been, unwilling to cooperate to his nice attempts to help her. She had made him angry by biting him, but that wasn't her fault either.
"I should get ready for bed, too." the Iwa nin thought.
And in short words, he did. A pair of long, black sweatpants that went swish swish whenever he walked, and nothing else (Well, of course he kept his underpants. Thank the Lord that no one went commando around here). He loosened the ribbon from his hair, and shook the pale tresses around that so that it all fell evenly.
Lastly, Deidara removed the viewfinder from his left eye and assumed his rightful place in the swiveling roller chair. He straddled it and used his crossed arms as a pillow over the curve.
Before long, he too had drifted off to sleep...
Yes, I know...How sad. And it's a fact that child prostitution does happen. I've read that it can happen as young as two months and go to up to ten years of age. What kind of sick, perverted freak would get a kick out of raping a two-month-old baby? Jesus Christ, throw some acid on these guys, people!
Yeah, I know. Please review. Every aspiring author (you, me, that bag of Cheetosyou're eating) wants a reaction. If I'm not getting a reaction out of you, or if I'm not getting more reviews, then that means that I'm failing as a writer and I'm failing to entertain the masses and I should kill myself, cuz being an author is one of my dream jobs.
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Just kidding on the whole suicide thing :D BUT SERIOUSLY….REVIEW.