Disclaimer: I don't own Dogs, or any of the characters used in this fic. They all belong to Shirow Miwa. I only own any original characters that I choose to include, as well as any original plot ideas.

Girls Like You

A/N: Mild references to prostitution.


She's a special girl. Everybody says so. But she doesn't understand why she can't be special when the lights are on and people are in the room. Why does it always have to be after hands exchange money, and someone gruffly takes her by the arm?

They say that she's one of "the good ones." She's quiet, so she can't scream; she's frail, so she can't run away.

But this time, she's tired of all the lies, of all the secrecy and dark rooms. She wants to be outside and feel her skin grow cold as the wind rushes by. To eat at a table, even to climb on rooftops and pretend that she can really fly away. So she runs, bolts right out the door before they can drag her away, catch her.

She hears them screaming, swearing as they give chase, try to pin down her wings with words and threats. She won't stop for them this time, won't give them a chance to pull her feathers out again. They hurt her when she disobeys, and she won't have it anymore.

Down an alley she goes, scared and tired and thirsty.

And she runs past a white-haired boy.