*Crack*

"Ungh…"

"Stand up you worthless filth!"

Turning a rebellious glare on his abuser, Kuroko spit out some blood from getting smacked in the face with a whip. Even though he knew he would only get beat more if he showed any life in his actions, the bluenette was not one to take things lying down. And besides, this is what his life has been like for many years now. He was used to it.

He had already grown numb to the constant abuse since a young age. His father had been high up in a mafia organization, but was slaughtered along with his mother when he tried to overthrow the leader at the time. His parents had been tortured before they died. His father had to watch as his mother was violated, and then beheaded. His father had then been tied down, having each one of his fingers and toes cut off ⸺ one by one ⸺ and then came his arms and legs. Afterwards, he had been left to bleed out. It had been a cruel, slow way to die.

The bluenette had witnessed everything, but was spared for some reason. (Thinking back on it now, maybe he was better off dead.) Being the son of a traitor, Kuroko had been sold off to slavers at the age of five. Ever since, he had endured the daily beatings and being sold off to many different owners. He supposed he should at least be grateful he wasn't forced into prostitution.

The bluenette's current owner was one of the worst. It's not that the beatings were any more intense, nor was the work harder. No, it was the way his owner looked at him like he was a meal made just for him. Kuroko could sense his eyes licking all over his body, could almost feel his hands ghost over his skin, slowly squeezing whatever life he had left in him out of his body.

*Smack*

A fist connected with the right side of his face, sending the bluenette flying into a nearby wall. All the slaves around him froze, turning to see what the commotion was.

"You think you're tough shit, huh? You like getting hit that badly do ya?!"

This particular guard never really liked Kuroko, and was always looking for a reason to smack him around. Not that the guards really needed a reason to hit the slaves.

Wiping his face with the back of his hand, the bluenette calmly pushed himself off the ground. Spitting out even more blood, he directed a condescending smirk in the guard's direction. He knew he was poking a sleeping lion, but if he focused the attention of the guards on himself, the other slaves would have an easier time. It's not like he really felt the pain anymore. In fact, he was kind of surprised he could even still feel compassion.

"Ha…At least I'm not trying to overcompensate for certain…areas…" Kuroko stated as he waved a hand in the guard's direction.

"Why you…!"

Seeing the rage explode in the guard's eyes, Kuroko returned his glare with a dead look. 'How many times would this make now?' he asked himself as the angry guard charged in his direction, fist raised in the air.

Ya know, that saddest thing about all this wasn't that everyone always just watched in silence as the guards beat the life out of the bluenette, but rather that the other slaves always avoided him. He was always isolated from the rest anyway ⸺ given the tiniest, darkest cell.

'You would think they could at least say thank you…' Kuroko thought as a final punch connected with his temple, turning the world black…

…..

"Ugh…"

Rolling over in his cell, Kuroko opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. At least he thought it was the ceiling. It was kind of hard to know which way was up or down when the cell was so cramped and dingy. Heck ⸺ he didn't even know if it was day or night. What he did know, was that his whole body felt like he had just run a marathon without stretching first.

No matter how badly he was beaten nor how bad his injuries were, all he ever felt was a dull ache. That's just how numb the bluenette was to it all. He didn't want anything, he didn't feel anything, he didn't care about anything. He may have been alive, but he hadn't been living, and he wasn't sure if he would ever get that chance.

…..

"Boss! Just get rid of that piece of shit already! He's too rebellious, the other slaves might get some weird ideas! I can't focus on my work cuz I gotta watch 'im all the time! Plus, he acts up all the time and doesn't do all the work we give 'im!"

Dragging his eyes in the direction of the guard, the slave owner cocked an eyebrow.

"Really, now? Are you having difficulties focusing? He is rather distracting, isn't he…?"

"Yes! I'm so glad you understand, Boss!"

Breathing a sigh of relief, the guard watched as the Owner pushed himself out of his chair and stalked towards him. Clapping a hand on the guard's shoulder, the Owner gave a gentle smile.

"Oh yes, I understand completely…I understand that you're even more worthless than having only one chopstick…"

After growling out the last part of the sentence, the Owner took out a pistol, placing it directly between the guard's eyes, flush against his skin.

Realizing what was happening, the guard began to struggle, begging for his life.

"No! Wait! Please! I've been working for you for years! I'll do anything!" He said in desperation, eyes wild and crazed.

"Really? Anything?" The Owner's words were honey but laced with poison.

"Yes, yes! Anything!"

"Okay…Then die…"

*Bang*

…..

"Come on, Akashi! It's been five freaking months, and we still have absolutely nothing pointing to the ring-leader of this human trafficking ring. Why are you so caught up on this damn case? We could be solving murders! Not playing a game of hide-and-seek with the most elusive son-of-a-gun slave trader out there, if there even is one!"

"Keep your voice down, Daiki. This is my office and you will follow my rules."

Swiveling in his chair to face the door, Akashi cast his scarlet eyes in the direction of his unruly subordinate. While he hated to admit it ⸺ the biggest idiot in the department, Aomine Daiki ⸺ was right. It had been five months, and they had made next to no progress. Sure, they had taken down a few grunts, but they had no clues pointing to the mastermind of the whole operation.

It was royally pissing him off. He was known for closing cases quickly, the longest only taking a month. Akashi had taken on this human trafficking case thinking he'd solve it right away, and then maybe he could go on a vacation or something. But everything just wasn't happening the way he wanted it to. Every time the red-head thought he had figured something out, he'd turn around and the puzzle was just even more complex ⸺ like whatever he had done, only tangled the ropes even further.

Flinching at the look in Akashi's eyes, Aomine scratched the back of his head as he slumped against the door.

"Look, all I'm saying is maybe you should put this case aside for a bit. Work some others and then pick it back up with a fresh point of view."

Sighing, Akashi dragged a palm down his face. He had been rather stressed as of late, but if he put this case down now, they'd have to start back at square one whenever they decided to pick it back up. By the time that happened, the whole organization could have obscured themselves further into the shadows, and then what would he tell the families of all the victims? That he was too stressed to handle the case? That he just ⸺ gave up ⸺ because it got too hard? That the going got tough but he didn't get going?

Akashi just couldn't do that. Other detectives could work on more recent cases, but not on this one. The red-head had poured five months of his life so far into this case, and no one would know it as well as he did. If Akashi couldn't even figure this out, no one would. And he didn't say that because he was being cocky or arrogant ⸺ it's what he truly believed. He would solve this case no matter how long it took, and if not for himself, then for all those families who had lost a loved one.

"It's not that simple, Daiki. Do you really believe that if we left it on the back-burner for a while that we would really be able to pick it back up? No. It'd become another cold case, unsolved and forever to stay that way. Not only that, but more people will be kidnapped and live their lives in absolute hell because we couldn't handle a little pressure. Can you live with that?"

Akashi hadn't realized he had raised his voice and stood up halfway through his little speech. Aomine was dumbfounded, the red-head never lost his composure like that. Even Akashi himself was surprised. This case was hitting way too close to home for him.

Clearing his throat, Akashi slowly sat back down, running a hand through his crimson locks.

"This conversation ends for today. You are dismissed."

Waving his hand dismissively, the red-head didn't wait for an answer from his stunned co-worker as he spun around in his chair. Looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the sun sinking into the horizon, Akashi let out yet another deep sigh. He may have said a little too much, Aomine did mean well, but just the thought of giving up because he couldn't figure it out got on his nerves.

Akashi Seijuurou had never given up on anything in his life, and he wasn't about to start now. He'd stick to it, and he'd save all those unfortunate souls. Save them like he wasn't able to save her…