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He was used to it.

But that didn't mean he liked it.

He was used to the harsh, ragged breathing that lingered in the musty room. He was used to his ankles being pushed above his head. He was used his back being pressed against the cheap, scratchy hotel sheets. He was used to the man moaning low in his ear, and he was used to closing his eyes and bearing with it. He was used to being pounded into the mattress like he was nothing but a toy. He was used to being treated like trash.

Maybe once, a long, long time ago, Niou Masaharu believed in God. Maybe once, he prayed at night and wished for things and hoped for the best. Maybe once, he believed in a higher deity. But after what happened... And after praying so damn hard, and hoping and trying his best to believe, and asking to just get out of this mess and to have a relatively normal life again, and nothing happening (If anything, it got worse), he stopped believing. He gave up all hope and eventually decided that God simply didn't exist. Or if he did exist, then he hated him.

He went with the former simply because he couldn't bear to think that somebody who was supposed to love everyone hated him. It was easier that way.

The man above him moaned low into his ear, and he refrained from shuttering. A few more thrusts and tense later, the man came inside him, grunting in a way that made Niou want to turn his head and throw up.

The man pulled out of him and got up, pulling on his clothes with fumbling fingers. Niou laid there, eyes clothes, trying his best to get rid of the disgusted feeling that was all over him. That was him.

"You alive?"

"...Yes."

"Good." The man's voice was gruff and harsh. "'Cos I can't afford payin' for no dead hooker."

He was used to this, too. The sharp words and insults. Hooker, Slut, Skank, Whore... He'd been called worse, too. He knew prostitutes who became offended at these words, even though they were completely true. They didn't offend him, though. He didn't care. They were just words. And he'd felt things that hurt worse than words.

Once he heard the guy leave, Niou hauled himself off the bed and got dressed. He moved slowly, taking his time in pulling on his skin-tight jeans and his skanky tank top. He slipped into his shoes and pulled on his jacket, flipping his hair out from inside it. He took the money from the table (Yukimura would be happy with this payment) and slipped out the door.

He walked down the four flights of stairs, which were all terrifyingly close to rotting through. He slipped out the front door, ignoring the disgusted look the guy at the desk in the lobby gave him. He started down the street, towards the corner that he always stood on. Like every other filthy whore out there. Like the lucky ones.

"Trixxxie."

Niou stiffened. His spine straightened and his breath caught in his throat. The voice that called to him was sickly sweet. Laced with innocence and smiles. And it was all a lie, because underneath was a man who made his cronies beat people on an everyday bases and who didn't see anyone but himself as a human being.

He turned around and watched his 'master' step out from the shadows. He was smiling, like he always was, as if he wasn't a monster. "Trixxxie," he repeated, his smile widening at Niou's cringe. "I was hoping I'd catch you."

Trixxxie was Niou's whore name. The name that was given to him by Yukimura. They all had special names, simply because Yukimura didn't believe they deserved real names.

Yukimura stepped forward until he was directly in front of Niou. "You have a special customer tonight. He requested somebody he could tie up and smack around as he pleases. Someone who won't complain and who will do exactly as told. And, well... We all know you're very good at that, aren't you?" He reached out and touched Niou's cheek with the back of his hand. "Meet him in the hotel two blocks down. Room 324. It's unlocked." He patted Niou's cheek, causing him to wince, before getting into a car with tinted windows.

He found it strange that Yukimura was coming to him personally, instead of making one of his workers do it. It wasn't unusual, though. He just figured that the customer must have been paying a boat load for this. Yukimura only made an appearance when big bucks were to be made.

Niou didn't breath again until the car was out of sight. Yukimura scared the living shit out of him, even though it was always his enforcer, Sanada, who did the hitting. Yukimura was a bad omen.

With a sigh, Niou tousled his hair a little and walked up the street in the direction Yukimura had gestured. A special customer? He figured he was going to come out of this with another broken rib and a black eye. Yukimura was an ass. All of his little slaves would put up with being tied up and smacked around because none of them had a choice. Yukimura was just a sadistic asshole who, in Niou's opinion, loved torturing him.

He stepped into the hotel and walked past the desk man. This one gave him a lustful look, that he tried his best to ignore. He walked up three flights of stairs (he was sick of these fucking stairs) and slipped into the room he'd been given. His eyes were immediately dragged to the man sitting on the bed. He was in a brown suit that was only a few shades darker than his hair. He wore wire-framed glasses and he was loosening his tie.

The man stood up and crossed the room, taking Niou by the wrist and pulling him over to the table. He leaned him over it, pinning his hands palms-down onto the wood. As the man bowed his head slightly, Niou stared down at the piles of papers and files on the desk. It all looked like a bunch of legal stuff. He almost thought that the man was a lawyer before he caught sight of something. On the top of the stack was an open file. On top of all the documents was a small, ripped piece of paper. The words scribbled on it read, "Are there any cameras in the room? If not, shake your head. If so, clench your hands into fists."

After hesitating a second, Niou shook his head slowly.

The man straightened up and moved to the other side of the table. He picked up a yellow legal pad and a pen and scribbled on it before holding it out for Niou to read.

Are you wired?

Again, he shook his head slowly as he straightened himself back up. He was confused. He didn't know what this guy was playing at, and he didn't know if Yukimura was in on it.

The man nodded and reached under the edge of his suit jacket. He pulled out a shiny gold badge and showed it to Niou. "I'm Detective Yagyuu Hiroshi. I'm here to help you."