This is the second chapter of Hiryonin Ichimei! Hope you enjoy it. Please review!

Disclaimer: I, Sutoomu(Storm), do NOT own Gundam Wing in any way. None at all. This fanfiction was made purely for fun and does not get me money in any way. Besides, it's not as though I have any money to be sued for...

Hiryonin Ichimei

Slave Life

Storm

Trowa had wandered down random lines alone for a bit over an hour now. Well, almost alone. He nearly growled in his throat as the guardsmens' boots clicked behind him, anxious to be rid of their shadowy presence. He just passed out of a very back row, everyone's heads bowed. He couldn't understand how anyone managed to choose a slave this way, just by looking at them. Then again, the way slaves were trained nowadays, they rarely had a personality of their own left, all humble and meek and subservient. He scowled inside and stood in an empty spot in the middle. He glanced over at Heero, surrounded, and knew his friend and brother was getting impatient by the look he wore. He turned and headed for the door he knew led to a lounge room, figuring on resting his weary brain and getting out of the warm sun. He pushed open the doors, which were simply sliding ones, a late invention, then let himself grin.

The guardsmen followed behind him, Trowa visible as he went in, then gone as the doors swung open towards them. They rushed in after him, and one knelt down to pick up the golden sash on the floor, the initials T.B. inscribed in scarlet embroidery at the end. He huffed in impatience while the other sighed.

"He's done it again," the one at the door said.

"I really wish he'd stop disapearing like that!" the one holding the sash growled, an older man. "Gets us in trouble until he pops back up and worries everyone." He pocketed the sash and observed the room quickly. "Well, let's start searching." They left through the opposite door to begin their search for Prince Trowa Barton.

Trowa counted five minutes before he let himself drop from his hiding place onto the ground, silently. He smiled again as no one was around and began 'stealthing', as he and Heero had called it when they were younger. 'Stealthing' was sneaking away from the nurses and trying not to get caught. Now, it was simply a case of guardsmen and royal pains. Trowa still 'stealthed' away often, and had to devise the golden sash as a sign he wasn't kidnapped. Heero did it less often, mostly when he was stressed and needed a break or at Trowa's insistence. He, as well, had a sign, his a silver sash with H.Y. written in blue embroidery. Needless to say, they ran the guardsmens' hairs gray with worry on a regular basis.

Trowa slipped silently down the large hall, hoping no one would come. It was incredibly difficult to 'stealth' in royal dress, complete with cumbersome single shoulder cloak. He headed for an area now well known to him, a small sitting room. Whenever Heero had come, Trowa had slipped away to the sitting room to read while he chose slaves. Normally, Trowa would be by Heero's side with such decisions, but slaves were one thing he didn't particularly like, and Heero understood. He reached the room, marked by a naturally red wooden door, and stepped inside.

"Oiy?"

Trowa whirled at the voice and stared in disbelief at two people. He hadn't expected anyone to be in here, it was so remote.

"It's a rich boy," the woman whispered to the man, but not softly enough for Trowa's keen ears to hear.

"Good day, Master," the man said, bowing. Trowa stared at them, something familiar clicking in his brain.

"Koirine?" he asked, looking at the curly red haired woman, whose eyes widened at her name. He turned to the man, who matched the woman in height, curly red hair, and light green eyes. "Koidin?"

"How's he know us?" Koirine whispered once again.

"That's who we are, Master," Koidin replied warily. "Koidin and Koirine, the Terrinaall twins. May we ask who you are, good Master?"

"Trowa Barton."

"Trowa Barton?" Koirine gasped. "No. Not the small circus kid turned prince Trowa Barton?" Trowa nodded.

"Well, I'll be," Koidin grinned. "Last I seen you, you were five years old, flippin' everywhere, and cuddlin' with the lions. Now you're, what, sixteen…?"

"Seventeen," Trowa corrected.

"Seventeen and all grown up and a prince at that!" Koirine finished Koidin's sentence. "You grown nicely. Guess I can't call you circus kid anymore." Her eyes twinkled.

Trowa gave a small smile at hearing that, just a twitch of the corners of his mouth. Koidin and Koirine Terinaall, twin sister and brother and the best hunters in the kingdom, whether it be slaves, or animals like Trowa knew them as. These two were the ones who had supplied the circus with most of their animals, such as the lions, Mist and Dew, Trowa's best animal friends, as well as delivering Zechs to Trieze. He had always liked the two identical twins. They had made him laugh when he was younger and clapped at his routine, even when he messed up. Now, he liked them even more, for them knowing he was an adopted prince, but still acting as they had twelve years ago.

"Why're you at the slave floor, Trowa?" Koidin asked. "King Trieze picking out some more slaves? By the way, how's he doing?"

"Trieze is fine, and he has been very pleased with Zechs," Trowa replied to their delight. "But he's not picking out more slaves. He insists Heero and I get personal slaves now. We'll be here for the entire afternoon."

"You don't sound too pleased with the idea," Koirine said. "Didn't think you would be, though. You're too sweet."

"How about you?" he asked to avoid a blush making it onto his cheeks. "Another slave group for sale?"

"Oh no," Koirine's eyes lit up. "We' ve got something much better. No slave group today."

"We've captured another full blooded wild Aranian," Koidin announced proudly. "A perfectly innocent little thing, he is, too, but mature enough. He looks about fifteen, sixteen. Younger than the other was, for sure."

"We don't know how old he is for sure 'cause he never speaks," Koirine looked sad. It was well known that Koirine and Koidin were very good to their slaves, which is why they produced the best. And Trowa knew Koirine was a downright softy at heart. "He just stares at us with big scared blue eyes, trembling in fear. We don't even know his name."

"If he continues to be this frightened, I don't know how good of a slave he'll make," Koidin reasoned. "Might not get sold. I'm beginning to doubt Tiper-Hayne'll want him. We were just waiting for him in here."

Trowa thought for a moment. A pure blooded Aranian, like Zechs. He knew Aranians were incredibly rare, almost as rare as Draeids. As Koirine and Koidin had spoken, his utter compassion had kicked in. Heero always teased him that he was too much of a softy.

"May I see him?"

Koidin blinked in shock, Koirine staring at him suspiciously for a moment. "Why?"

"It's impossible to find a slave by walking the lines, at least for me," Trowa explained best he could. "I'd like to see the Aranian, in considering buying him. Zechs has improved Trieze greatly over the past years."

"Well, o' course you can see him," Koidin shrugged. "But I doubt you'll want him. Like Koirine said, he's scared silly. It'd be hell to train him." But they stepped out of the sitting room and began to lead Trowa down towards the slave barracks. They reached a normal door and Koidin unlocked it with a heavy key, then swung it open. Trowa looked into the small room, lit only by the sun coming through the window. It was small and plain, and simply contained a small table and bed, upon which a huddled figure lay. Trowa stepped inside first, making it clear he wanted to be alone with him, and Koidin shut the door.

Trowa made his way silently over to the bed. The Aranian boy was huddled, knees up to his chest and head tucked in. He seemed to be shaking, silently crying. Trowa looked at his pale skin and light golden white hair, an Aranian trademark, and gently brushed his shoulder. The boy shot up at the touch and backed into the corner of the small bed, light blue eyes staring very scaredly into deep green ones. He looked at his face, smooth and young and innocent, as Koirine had said, and a wave of sympathy and a feeling of connection washed over him for this scared little wild Aranian. He knelt down, reaching out a hand and wiping his tear stained cheeks gently, which brought confusion into the blue eyes.

Trowa let a kind smile grace his features, a rare occurrence. "Hello, little one. My name is Trowa, and I'd like to take you out of here." He saw hope and confusion and fear flitter in his innocent eyes. Trowa knew he was hooked on the boy as he said it., and he stood up for a moment. "Just wait one second." He stepped outside.

"I'll take him," he said softly.

"Really?" Koidin asked skeptically as Koirine's eyes lit up in joy for the small slave. "You sure? 'Cause he won't speak, you know."

"Completely," Trowa assured him with a nod. "How much?" Koidin told him and he handed over the money. It was quite a large sum, but the slave was an Aranian, so it was expected. Koidin put the money in his satchel and began rummaging for a moment, then brought out a pair of small shackles. Trowa shook his head no and told him they weren't needed, stepping back inside. The Aranian had been staring at the door the entire time he was out there, and he continued to stare at Trowa as he approached once more.

Trowa held out a hand to him, and he stared at it warily. After a moment, he looked up into Trowa's eyes and slowly took his hand, letting himself he helped to his feet. Trowa saw that he was indeed a small youth, shorter and of smaller frame than himself, as he guided him to the door and out it. The boy stared in fear at Koidin and Koirine as he was led past.

Koirine smiled and chuckled as they walked away. "Looks like circus kid's hooked."

"Like a fish," Koidin agreed.

"Lucky little thing," Koirine refered to the Aranian. "He's going to be the best treated slave in the world."

Koidin nodded, then swung an arm around his sister. "Well, our deal is done. No need to hang around here. I'm starved." And they marched out of the slave floor, looking for a good inn for a good meal.

That's the second chapter! Please review. Constructive critisism is welcome, but no flames, please. Enjoy!

Storm