Disclaimer: I do not own any Inuyasha related characters, or the song 'Asthenia' by Blink 182, used pre-chapter.

Painted

II. By Chance

-

This place is void of all passion

If you can imagine, it's easy if you try

-

December 1941

"You know what is expected of you, correct?" Kagura asked, as she delicately coloured Sango's face with thick, even strokes of the brush.

"Yes," Sango breathed, trying to refrain from moving even the slightest bit.

Inside, Kagura's heart ached for the young girls whom she had prepared for this night. She had managed to buy them two months time, but she didn't know if it would be enough.

She finished coating Sango's lips scarlet and setting her hair in place with a jewelled pin.

"You are ready."

The young girl's eyes were downcast at Kagura's proclamation.

"I'm not," she said quietly.

"Sango, I'm sorry but I've bought you all the time I could," Kagura reasoned, not wanting to hear about this subject any more.

"Do you honestly think that anyone my age is really prepared for this?" Sango asked in an eerily calm tone.

"Listen," Kagura snapped. "I know this wasn't your choice but it wasn't for most, if not all the girls here. That goes for me as well. If you haven't noticed, Naraku is a despicable man, and I had the joy of living through a wonderful childhood with him."

"Sorry."

The older woman sighed. "Sango, you know what's going to happen if you displease Naraku, I don't know how you can keep it up."

"I just- I just don't want him to give him the satisfaction of destroying me. I swear it's his vow to do so, and he can take away my family, my life, my dignity, so as long as he doesn't have...me."

Without a further word, she exited the room.

--

It had been two months since that fateful morning in September, when so many things had changed.

Naraku hated her, and he often told her so after she was writhing in pain after showing him disrespect. For some reason, she still defied him, just so that he never got the satisfaction of knowing that he had successfully beat her into submission mentally.

She continued to work, learn, and meet other girls in her position. Kagome still served as her closest friend, and their favourite topic of conversation was always what they would do if they were free.

Kagome was a couple of years older than her, at fifteen, and despite being sold into sexual immorality, she still maintained a bright and sunny attitude, caring for Sango as a younger sister.

It hurt her that she had to witness Sango be forced through the same thing that she was a few years ago.

"Are you feeling okay?" Kagome asked, squeezing Sango's shoulders reassuringly. "You look beautiful, you know."

Sango managed a tiny smile. "I'm okay. After all, Kagura has been preparing us for this the past few months. Can anyone really be ready for this?"

Kagome was impressed at Sango's fortitude. "I wish I was as strong as you, Sango. When it was my time, I was crying and resisting, and I got lashes for it. But here you are, talking about it as if it's nothing to you."

"Really, Kagome, you have nothing to be impressed with." In truth, Sango's stomach was twisting and turning inside her, and her leg wouldn't stop jittering underneath the layers of fabric wrapped around her.

"Don't worry Sango, others have been worse than what you are now," Kagome assured her, now wrapping a length of fabric around Sango's waist. "Listen, all you have to do is get through tonight, and it will get easier in time, I promise."

Sango couldn't help but feel disgusted with herself. She was to be sold tonight, and defiled. Was she supposed to be happy? Was this a cause for celebration? Hardly. Tonight would mark the first in her new life as a whore.

Kagome was tying the obi carefully when Sango's voice startled her out of her concentration. "Sorry," she said dully. "But why waste the time making it all formal? It's coming off anyway." Kagome sighed as she pulled out the end of the obi and tucked it underneath a fold. "So what if it comes off? Sango, I know this is hard, but I've been through it before, and I want you to get through it too. You're strong, remember?"

"Obviously I have no choice, right?"

The girl opposite her bit her lip. "Well-"

"Thought so."

Kagome opened her mouth to say something more, but Sango continued before she had a chance. "As a little girl, I always wondered what was beyond the village. I thought I would spend my whole life there, until I died. Now look at me. Nearing fourteen and mere hours away from becoming consummated as a whore and slave. "

Kagome remained silent as she finished arranging the bow of Sango's obi, patting her waist softly signalling she had completed her task.

"I wonder if I should even bother asking why the bow is in front," Sango commented.

When she stood and smoothed the fabric of her kimono, Kagome couldn't help but feel that Sango, a girl that had been forced to age must faster than her thirteen years, did not deserve what she would have to go through for a long time to come.

--

The trinkets swinging from Sango's hair make clinking noises as they collided. Though not as decorated as Kagura, there had been so much effort to make sure the girls were primped and pretty that Sango could not help but feel beautiful for a split second between the waves of dread.

The group filed slowly into the main room, and arranged themselves; tallest stood in back, shortest sat daintily on the floor, medium height kneeled. In fulfilment of Sango's worst fear, three oily, overweight men were already waiting in chairs.

Of course, Naraku was there, overseeing the entire ordeal. "First customers of the night are always luckiest," he addressed them. "Naturally, you get first pick."

The three men nodded, already having been in deliberation as soon as the girls had entered the room.

"In addition to our regulars, " Naraku continued, in his slimy, persuading voice. "We are breaking in our new charges. All untouched. Virgins."

The men perked up in delight at his words. "And might I suggest," Naraku added mildly. "Our fountain of beauty, Emi Izumi, sitting at the end of the front row. She has been most, impatient for her first companion."

Sango, taking a little moment longer to acknowledge that Naraku had made reference to her, raised her head to survey the men, her mouth in a thin smile. She shot a quick glare in Naraku's direction before fixing her stare on a spot on the wall to the left.

"As much as I trust your judgement, Masuyo-san," one of the greasy men began jovially, I'm afraid I'm going to have to take one of the regulars."

"Oh that is quite alright," Naraku laughed, waving his hand. "And you, sir?"

"Well, the offer of pure maidens is quite a temptation, I might have to take you up on it," the other man decided.

"Wonderful!" Naraku exclaimed. "Which one do you so desire?"

The man pointed to one of the taller girls, standing, and she immediately walked over to him and bowed politely.

"Kanna will just see you to a room there," Naraku said to the pair. "Enjoy!"

The third man chose a regular, and was escorted by Kanna down the corridor of rooms Sango remembered seeing every day.

The night continued, more men filing in, pairing off, some even taking two girls, and being led to the rooms.

"Shame," Naraku commented in between clients. "Even men looking for whores reject you."

Sango didn't quite care, really. If she could have Naraku's taunts in place of the vile act, she'd take his verbal abuse any day.

Finally, when business seemed to pick up once more, a fat, lumbering, oily man graced the entrance, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

"I see we're doing away with the virgins now, eh Masuyo?" the man stated. Evidently, this man was a constant visitor.

"And how are we today, Mukotsu-san?" Naraku inquired, patting the larger man's back, and wiping it off on his pants when he wasn't looking.

"Fine, did a lot of tax collecting today. I brought a lot of the money with me, just for this," the man said back, as he surveyed the remaining girls. "You wouldn't believe how much budgeting is going to have to be done. The emperor's advisers are looking to increase military funds, before attacking the Americans." The tax collector shook his head. "I was supposed to come earlier, but I had to recount the taxes, after I had taken out my pay, so to speak." Both men laughed.

Sango tensed as the man's bulging eyes passed over her, the rest of the girls, and returned. "What do you make of this one?" Mukotsu called to Naraku, who walked over quickly.

His eyes lit in delight. "Ah, that would be Emi. You are quite lucky, she's been overlooked until now. Stand Emi, bow to Mukotsu here."

With gritted teeth, Sango stood and bowed slightly, trying to look as unattractive as possible.

"Cute," Mukotsu said, circling her like a vulture. He laid a grubby hand on her rear, and she flinched. "Decent."

He turned to Naraku and deposited a roll of notes in his hand. "I'll take this one," he said, almost excitedly.

"Excellent choice," Naraku returned. "However, see to it that she does not leave until you feel satisfied. I would want our customers to keep coming back for more! Also, we also have a policy of mending broken merchandise."

"Such a man of honour," Mukotsu complimented, latching onto Sango's wrist. "Now come along, girl, I've definitely earned this."

Sango looked back as she was pulled down the hall, only to see Naraku waving mockingly at her.

"Your room, sir," Kanna indicated in her quiet voice before walking down to the end of the corridor.

"Our room it is," Mukotsu squealed ecstatically, almost pushing Sango through the open door and sliding it shut soundly, the sound of the lock clinking making her tense.

"So," he began, once again rubbing his hands together. "A virgin. Do you need me to start, or would you like to experiment for yourself?"

Sango turned around to look at her customer, and froze. He was rich, overweight, and eyeing her up and down whilst greedily licking his lips.

He beckoned her over closer to where he was sitting on the bed. When she made no motions of moving, he reached over and tugged at her kimono with one large hand, pulling her nearer.

Frowning, he yanked at the thick fabric of her obi and the bow collapsed, leaving it free to be unravelled, which is what her charge was currently doing impatiently. The reality of the situation struck her like lightning.

No matter what the repercussions, the circumstances, she would not be taken this way.

Her obi had fallen to the ground softly and Mukotsu had now, none too carefully, done away with the decorated kimono she wore.

She now stood, still clothed in her white inner kimono. Letting out a grunt of frustration, he undid that knot too and pulled it open.

That is when she started to visibly resist.

His hand laid on bare skin and she flinched. Instantly, she backed away.

"Now what do you think you're doing, girl?" his thick voice filling the room.

Sango wrapped the thin fabric tightly around her. "I won't let your filthy hands touch me," she snapped.

"The hell they won't," he shot back, standing. Sango looked around her, even though she knew she was trapped in a corner. What could she do? They were being loud enough. If she screamed, Naraku would hear, and she would for sure be punished.

He was too close to her now, she could smell his stench, as he placed his disgusting hands on her once again.

"This is your job, bitch," he snarled into her ear. He held the bottom of her face roughly and attempted to kiss her, though she kept her mouth shut tightly.

"Open your mouth!" he demanded. The look in her eyes refused as he began to force her mouth open with his hand, but as he did, she bit down with as much force as she could muster.

Mukotsu wrenched his hand away from her, and cried out in pain. "Bitch!" he roared.

Immediately, footsteps sounded outside the door and adrenaline rose in Sango's blood. Taking her chance, she threw all her weight against the thin screen beside her and her small frame crashed through.

Kagura looked up from where she had been folding sheets and saw Sango.

Not wasting time, Sango turned to the back door and fled, flipping over the balcony and landing hard on the dirt.

'Brave,' Kagura thought fondly, as she watched her run through the trees.

The night was cold, and her feet were bare. The winter season had already washed over Japan, and to her dismay, the ground was coated in a thin layer of snow.

She could hear yells behind her, and she did the only thing she could do now.

Run.

--

"Are you sure you don't mind the cold?" the elder monk asked his companion.

"Nope, not at all," the younger boy replied. "To me, it's the same as always. Another day of alms collecting."

"A few more hours, and we'll head back to the temple. How about that?"

There was silence, except for their footsteps grinding into the gravel on the path.

"You know Mushin-sama," the boy began. "Is it true that there's a brothel around here?"

"Don't even start with that Miroku," his guardian said sternly. "You're barely what, fifteen? Not to mention that your training to be a monk. Get your mind out of the gutter."

"I was merely commenting on a rumour I heard," Miroku answered calmly. "Think nothing of it."

"I don't think there will be anymore people passing by," Miroku remarked. "It's getting really late. It's also kind of cold."

"Well, you never know, I'm thinking about five minutes more."

He had taken to looking at the path ahead of him, when a blur of white and brown flew out from the trees to his left.

It appeared to be a person, a girl nonetheless, her long brown hair hanging down to the ground where she had collapsed on her hands and knees, gasping for air.

"Hey, are you alright?" Miroku called out to her, his footsteps quickening.

Her head immediately shot up, and she stared at the older man and young boy before her. "Can you hear me? Are you okay?"

He kneeled next to her, and extended his hand to rest on her shoulder, but as soon as he reached towards her, she backed away, shivering from the cold, and wrapped her clothing firmly around her.

He regarded her and noted everything from the smudged face paint on her face and robe, to her dirt stained feet and legs, scratched and wet from running through the trees.

"You must be cold, not to mention wet," he stated, taking off his own heavy robe and draping it over her trembling form. She merely looked at him, slightly confused.

Mushin stepped towards her. "Are you lost? Are you from the city?"

The girl just shook her head.

Miroku moved a little back from her, seeing as she was eyeing him strangely. "Hey," he said gently. "I'm not going to hurt you, me and Mushin here, we're monks. Well, I'm not yet, but I'm going to be. Anyway, my name is Miroku, what's yours?"

Her mouth moved, and an indistinguishable sound came out.

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

Her mouth opened again, and this time, he barely caught her breathless whisper.

"Sango."

"Sango. That's a beautiful name. Now, how can I help you?"

Something flashed in her eyes. "Why would you want to help me?"

"I just like helping people."

He continued to smile at her, hoping she would become less hostile, but when he noticed her eyes grow wide in fear, he looked behind him to see a fine horse-drawn carriage, complete with pokerfaced driver, approaching.

The horses cantered to a stop just behind Mushin, and the door swung open, revealing a tall, neatly dressed man

"Ah, I see you two have found my missing charge," the man said in a honeyed tone, his eyes resting on Sango, dirty and bruised, clinging to Miroku's robe.

"You look terrible dear. Let's go back and get you cleaned up."

The man straightened and noted the two new figures who had stumbled upon Sango.

"I am Masuyo Naraku, and I own a business from which this girl here has seemingly become lost."

"She's yours?" Mushin clarified. "Well, I guess that's all in order."

"Then I'll just be taking her back then, I apologize for any trouble she's caused," Naraku said, moving towards her. He held out his hands. "Come along now."

She made no move towards him. Instead she backed farther away, a little behind Miroku.

"Wait a minute," Miroku interrupted, his eyes narrowing. "She doesn't seem to want to go with you."

Naraku's eyes flashed, despite his plastered on smile. "Don't misunderstand, young man. She works for me, she's lost, and I'm taking her back to her home. Now please, move aside."

"What kind of business is this?" Miroku shot back.

His voice was tinged with annoyance. "I don't believe that is any of your concern. I have enough to deal with. Sango! Let's go."

Before Naraku could register what he did, Miroku twisted around and held Sango by the shoulders.

"What is he to you?" he whispered harshly, willing her to speak.

Her lower lip began to tremble again, and she spoke, her voice breathless and scared.

"Don't. Don't try and help me."

"Why? What did he do to you?"

"Stop. I don't want him to hurt you too."

It was too late. Naraku had already reached them and now loomed over Miroku. He seized him by his sleeve and unceremoniously pulled him away, dropping him on his back in the dirt.

Mushin, who had been standing back with the carriage, spoke up at this. "Excuse me, but I believe that was a tad unnecessary!"

"Sango , darling, you're way too much trouble then you're worth," Naraku sighed dramatically, ignoring him. "And if I wanted to save myself a few headaches, I would just leave you here now."

Her fists tightened, hoping against all hope that that's exactly what he would do.

"But," he said after lengthy pause. Sango felt her heart sinking below her knees. "All these... mishaps you cause, they just make me more determined to make sure you live - and die - under my hand."

With that, he strode purposefully towards her, and leaned down to pick her up. She resisted the whole time, desperately kicking and whipping her arms at him in vain.

He only grew more annoyed. He held her down by her shoulders and slapped her once. The sound echoed through the trees.

"That was only a preview," he spat. She stopped struggling. "You can expect much more of it when we get back. I don't want to have to go through this again."

He had turned around to get back into the carriage when another voice stopped him. The young boy had gotten back to his feet. Apparently he was another persistent one.

"You can't take her."

"I don't see how you can tell me what I can and cannot do, fool. It's been a long night. I'm leaving."

"She doesn't want to go," Miroku argued. "Y-you hit her!"

"Well, I suppose I did," Naraku chuckled. "Sango here, she needs it to keep her in line."

"How could you do that?" Miroku asked in disbelief. "She's only-"

"Excuse me, boy, but I don't see how any of it matters to or concerns you. You see, let me explain a little something to you called business. She works for me. She helps - or should I say, will start helping - to make money. If she gets out of line, well, we can't have inadequate employees, correct?"

Before Miroku could respond, he had already turned around and was steering Sango in the direction of the carriage, beckoning her to get in. He could have dreamed it, but he could have sworn he saw her mouth 'I'm sorry' to him

He turned to Mushin and bowed slightly. "Sorry for this... inconvenience," he remarked casually. The monk simply regarded him warily. Naraku looked to both him and Miroku, as if seeing them in a new light. "Monks," he noticed. "I assume you are collecting?"

"Here. You'll need it." He reached into his pocket and threw a few coins to the ground at their feet. "I bid you a good evening then, gentlemen," he said with a wave, and signalled to the driver.

As the carriage sped away in the direction that it came, Miroku stared after it wordlessly. When it had disappeared from view, he turned his head slowly to look at Mushin, who looked deep in thought.

"Mushin-sama," Miroku said, startling him out of his trance. "She was...one of them, wasn't she?"

The monk sighed. "I don't see why she wouldn't be. Obviously she was trying to get away. Didn't you see what little she wore? Not to mention she looked so young. Younger than you even."

"Why doesn't she just leave? Why does he hurt her like that?"

"Those are questions that I can't answer, Miroku."

"But can't we help her?"

"I don't know. All we can do...pray for her," he trailed off, patting the young boy's shoulder.

"There's so much to pray for. So much is going wrong in the world. War. This. Everyone - it seems like everyone just wants to hurt one another! Why?"

Miroku closed his eyes and shook his head roughly, but all that remained in his head was the image of a bruised, shivering, crying girl, with trails in her face paint made by tears and blood. He hadn't noticed it so clearly until now.

Painted: By Chance - June 26th 2004

Umm...Well, I remember that Mukotsu was that poison-user who tried to marry Kagome and all that, so why make an OC when there's already a suitable character? I changed the rating from PG-13 to R, even though I didn't intend to, but that warning on the home page really freaked me out, I don't want my account to be closed! So, I guess the subject matter is enough to deserve an R rating...is it?

Reviewers! You inspire me.

randomgemini, Aamalie, Lady Sango 7, faltering, Katrina5, Irasuto, and sasha

Thank you for your kind words.