Chapter 3

This was her lucky day, it seemed. Lucky day, indeed.

Before she really realized as to what was going on, she was stepping out of that sandy pit the victor. Energy and adrenaline pumped through her veins, her cheeks a little rosy from the previous scuffle. What had just happened? Well. She had gone in there, she knew that. She remembered hearing his voice. But then what? It all seemed to happen so fast. Had it really happened at all? Her feet unconsciously guided her down that dark corridor for the second time that evening. A cold chill raced down her spine, her head spinning a little at the echoing voices.

She knew that they were coming from the spectator's lounge up above, but it felt as though they were right next to her. Breathing and talking right into her ear. She was just edgy from the fight. That's it. Her muscles tensed as she picked up her pace, eyes darting suspiciously. It all seemed rather strange. This entire encounter. But she was twenty dollars and five cents richer. That's all that mattered.

A bit of pain poked at her nose. It was bleeding, but not too terribly. He had cracked her a good one, surely, but it definitely hadn't broken her nose. That announcer was misinformed. The young blonde shook her head, those bloodied fists tightened into balls. What was she supposed to do again? Oh yeah. Mr. White wanted to see her. She wanted that cash. It was hers. She had rightfully won it. She'd be damned if he two timed her. Swiftly, Haruka's long legs pulled her up the stairs, the nights activities beginning to take a hold upon her. She felt herself becoming a little bit more lethargic. Tired. Foggy. Maybe she had hit her head harder than she initially thought. She grunted to herself. No, she was fine.

Without her realizing it, the door that she had gone into minutes before was before her, swinging wide open for those toxic fumes to invade her senses. The air was cloudy with the smoke, but tainted with the smell of stale whiskey. Her nose wrinkled a little as she looked at the sea of bodies. The ebb and tide of arms and legs were dizzying. Excited mumbles sought her ears. What was that? Something about…uh. Hm. She furrowed her bloodied brow in confusion. It was all a blur. All melted together. She couldn't quite pick out what they were talking about. What was the point of being so excited. Heh. They all had their homes to go to. Their wives. Families. A warm fire. A bed. A real home. Something bitter raised in her throat at the thought. Of course they would be excited. To watch desperate men battle it out just for something they all seemed to just have. Her anger was sparking again. These working men should know better. They should. They knew who she was, yet they didn't say a word. Maybe they were all too drunk off their ass to realize it. More anger.

A hush suddenly fell, the room seeming to get a bit dimmer. Her head followed the suggestion of the crowd. A cough. Absolute silence. Her leg twitched as she made to move forward, but stopped dead in her tracks when it sliced through the very fabric of the atmosphere. That one, long, sad note. The beginning of what would be an equally sad and tragic end. The fine hairs on the back of her neck rose. The small, diminutive note hung in the air like a heavy silence. Lonely, solitary. A chord. At least now it had friends. If she would have been in a more hardy state of mind, she would have had the audacity to say that they could all throw a pity party together. But she wasn't. And she couldn't say it about that noise. That smooth, crystalline noise. What was it? It was picking up with intensity, just the slightest. A tease. That's what it was. She wanted to move to find the source, but she was afraid to break the spell that had fallen over everyone. It was felt in everyone present. Those notes. They spoke to her. Spoke to all that were present. Her jaw clenched a little as she finally moved forward into the crowd, facing the direction in which everyone else was pointed.

It hit her full on. Those rushed, almost panicked notes, now. Like tear drops on the strings from which they came. How depressing. Why was this in such a place? A place meant for good times? A place where people could forget their woes and sorrows and just laugh and be merry? 'Because it's reality, and people must be reminded of that cold truth that lies beyond these steel doors.' And it was beautiful. It was like the breath that they all shared. The blood that they all had spilt in these hard times. It was the flame that reminded them of the cold outside.

But she was so…pretty. Finally she had taken sight of her. Barely through the many heads of the deathly quiet men. Blue locks. Delicate features. Everything about her screamed class. Screamed the ultimate woman. Her curves were easy to follow with the eye, and that white dress seemed to hang off of her body like a garment fit for a Queen. She wanted to touch it. The moment she realized that, she tore her eyes away, reluctantly. Fabric was always so fun to feel. That's what she was talking about. Not the girl. Nah. Not her. She was too classy. She was probably a snob too. A lump rose uncomfortably in her throat, her hands balling up into fists unconsciously. Slowly, she dared to look up again.

The girls demeanor was just as sad as the instrument that she manipulated beneath those delicate hands. Gets her point across better. To feel that which is being displayed. But Haruka knew that they were all feeling it as well. She was an excellent musician, she would give the young woman that. It was a hard thing to make the people feel that which the song says. The blonde held her breath as she listened to that bow hit the strings. Her eyes slowly closed, and for once, she felt as though she was at peace. There wasn't anything to worry about. It was just her and the music. It was beginning to envelope her. Something slammed in her chest. Heavily. Hard. Her muscles shook a little. God, she was pretty.

But still probably a snob.

She nodded her head a little as she dared to rub some of the blood away from her face. She didn't really want it to dry all over her skin. It was going to make her mother worry. Mother? Worrying? What else was new. Something clapped heavily around her wrist as she began to get lost in her thoughts. As a result, her eyes darted open, her muscles tensing for a fight. But it was just him. That roguish smile piercing her retinas. A white suit. He motioned quickly with his head, his voice not reaching her ears. She supposed that he didn't want to break the spell that had been cast. She nodded her head, beginning to follow the older man. And it was the first time she regretted not being able to stay there and listen. Don't tear away. Her senses screamed for her to wait for the closing of the melody. But she knew that she could not. Whatever. It's just…music. Her eyes fell upon that girl one last time before she was pulled up some stairs and into a new room. The line of sight was shattered. The music was muffled when the door closed. And Mr. White made his way to sit behind a large, wooden desk.

He clasped his hands in front of his face as he looked at the young woman, his smile never leaving his face. "Sit sit," he said, motioning to one of the many lush chairs that were tastefully scattered through out the decently sized office. A smoky window was to his back, which she assumed looked out over the pit that she had just come from. Papers and pens were neatly stacked and placed in holders upon his rich looking desk. It seemed very formal and very business like here. Her features grew grave as she looked at him. He was scheming something.

"I'd prefer to stand," she replied curtly, her hands still balled into fists, but this time in defense. She didn't trust him. Not one bit.

"Suit yourself," he said with a small shrug, his smile never fading.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to receive that which was promised me. I've completed your silly, trifle task. So now it's your turn, sir." The honorfication held a small, snide edge to it as she said it. She really needed to work on her people skills. Yeah. She would get right on that. Maybe when pigs flew. She'd think about it.

"You did quite a number on Bull there, young cat," he chuckled. She rolled her eyes at the quickly growing nick name. What was that announcers problem. Did she really seem all that cuddly? Cat. "That was so amazing the way you handled him. It was as if you didn't seem to see anything around you. You just MOVED!" He was excited. It was as if he was a child talking about a new toy. What she didn't know was that she was exactly just that. A new toy.

Had he even heard her?

"Yes, well, it's been wonderful chatting with you bu--"

"And the way you came back! It was thrilling!" He was cutting her off. Agitation grew in her throat as she impatiently looked at him. She really needed that bill. Had he been just playing her? She would surely show him if he had. He smiled at her. She knew that he could feel the anger that was sparking in her emerald eyes. He knew what he was doing. Was he testing her? He looked at her with a calm, even stare. She wanted to punch him. So. Bad. It would be totally worth it. No. It wouldn't be. The money. If she did that, she wouldn't get the money. Damn. She was eating out of the palms of his hands, basically.

"Work for me."

She blinked rapidly, caught by surprise. Haruka was aware that he had offered her sort of a job in the alley way, but now, he was pulling out papers and a pen. He was serious.

"Be my Champ." He looked hopeful at her.

Hesitantly, she looked back, her voice cautious. "I'm the property of no one."

"Come on! It's just once a week. And you'll get double than what I'm giving you for this one little fight," he said. Double? Forty dollars for one fight? Something caught in her throat as she looked at him. She was no ones pet. But. Her fists tightened, her thoughts rushing all around in her head. What was she supposed to do? He saw the conflict in her eyes, his smile widening.

"You drive a hard bargain, son. Tell ya what, fifty dollars per fight, with free room and board if you ever decide that you need it. All medical expenses will be covered by my company, so even if you do happen to get injured during a fight, it won't be an issue," something was underlying in his voice as he recited the last little bit. Something sneaky. Something smug. She didn't trust it.

"All medical expenses?" She asked. How could she pass that up?

"You're correct, my boy. All. Medical expenses. Including those of close relation," he knew he had struck a chord with her. Those emerald eyes grew cold as the stone that they seemed to be cut from. Her shoulders tightened up. She got into that stance. He would admit that the 'young cat' in front of him made him nervous. He seemed like a lose cannon. But there was no way that Mr. White was going to let the scrapper go.

Those next few seconds seemed to take years to pass by. But she had to do it. It was easy money. Free. Easy. Money. Haruka approached the desk and looked down at the paper that was now being pushed towards her. Hook. Line. And sinker. Slowly, she picked up the pen, her eyes grazing over the words that were printed neatly upon the white sheet.

"You give me your w--"

"Yes! I give you my word. You won't regret it, I promise." She wished that she had known. But that's the sad thing about living in the present. And her mom would be okay. Her dad would be okay. They would have a semi normal life, once more. Finally. It's all she wanted for them. To be happy and to live in that homey little abode once more. That's what drove her to set the tip down to the line. That's what drove her to let her illegible signature scrawl across the page. That's what allowed her to become someone elses' lap dog.

"As I said before! Welcome to the family, Alan!" He stood up and grabbed her hand, shaking it vigorously, clapping her on the shoulder with his other. He was thrilled. She could tell.

"Haru--"

"That's what I said!"

The music still played. But soon after quickly died. The silence that followed the last, drowned note was uncomfortable. Sullen. Weak. And dreadful. Then the hoots, hollers, calls, wails, and applause shook the ground on which she stood. But she couldn't help but feel the heaviness that was lying in her throat.

She was twenty dollars and five cents richer. The bill was slipped into her hand as they shook. Her jaw was ridged. And she pocketed that precious bill.

"Charles will take you to your…home when you're ready to leave. And he'll pick you up next week on the corner of Miller's Market at 5 pm. Till then, son." He motioned towards the door, smiling.

She was twenty dollars and five cents richer. Yet she felt as thought she had just been robbed.

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All eyes were on her. She knew it.

Some of them greedy. Some of them lustful. Some of them sad. Some of them angry. Some of them happy. Some of them defeated.

It didn't matter, they were all still there. All poised and looking at her, watching her every move expectantly. She wouldn't make a mistake. They would not be disappointed. Not that night. Not ever. She knew that. The only time they would regret her, was the time when she drew to a close. A small sigh passed through those lips, her eyes softly closed as she played, her fingers gracing over the strings like the practiced musician she was. It felt like home when she played. Her heart fluttered softly as she moved into a particular line. It was a wonderful thing. To be completely alone and isolated, but to feel content with the situation. Was she content? Her jaw twitched a little unexpectedly. She almost lost it. But she saved the mistake from falling. That wouldn't happen. Not tonight.

Her movements began to slow as she began to come to a close, her bow falling still over the four strings in one final note. It hung in the air. On the curtains that surrounded the stage that she was poised. On the clothes of the men that listened. On the edge of her throat that wanted to softly hum that which was just played. It seemed like eternity before they started in clapping and cheering. They loved her.

They always had.

It was such an odd feeling. She played so often for people. For so many different audiences. But they loved her the best. They were always so happy to see her walk out in some random part of the establishment and just begin. Always a new song. Never the same one. It was always a surprise. She was sure, however, that they would be just as satisfied even if she did happen to play the same thing every week. That's true devotion.

She let the beautiful dark violin drop from her shoulder as she bowed. It was old. Well worn. Loved. It was part of her. Just as much as this place was. How she hated it. The monotony. A polite smile graced her lips as she began to move off of the stage, the applause still reaching her ears. It had been a good night. Everyone went home happy. Well. Except…some. She shook her head, those wavy locks dancing lightly around her face as she discarded the thought from her head. Everything was normal. This was all normal. Nothing was out of the norm. Well. Except…

No.

Those sapphire eyes graced the eager faces of the crowd one last time, but movement behind them all caught her attention. It was that young man. That sandy blonde young cat. He was descending the stairs that lead to. Oh. Great. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought. As usual, he had gotten what he had wanted. She took a deep breath in her mind, because a lady isn't supposed to sigh. It's bad manners. That smile remained fixed upon her lips as she finally moved off stage.

"Great job, as usual, Ru!" She looked up to see a bright, happy face. They all looked the same. The same rosy cheeks. The same glimmer of the eye. Who was who in the world here?

"Thank you, Stella. I appreciate your support and sound words," she replied, her voice soft. Delicate as a flower. She placed her instrument into the hard case that was laid out on a small table just in front of her. Gently, the young woman clasped it closed. Without another word said, she picked it up and moved off stage. Everyone was watching her. They always were. Even in the confines of her own room. They were always watching.

As she moved out of the safety of backstage, she felt something hit her stomach. A nauseating feeling really. The heavy metal door swung open easily enough, the cool night air hitting her face with a refreshing slap. It felt great to be out of that cage. Even for a few seconds. It was invigorating. Brought her to a new high. A new life was out here. A different life was out here. She wasn't what she was in there. The door clicked closed behind her. She let her shoulders hit the damp alley wall. Michiru's eyes closed, exhaustion taking over her.

"Hello?"

The sudden voice made her jump. She clutched the violin case tightly to her chest, her eyes flying open as she looked at the owner. The moonlight danced lightly in that alley way, the light from the stars blocked out by the building parallel to the one she had just exited. Most of it was in shadow. Her eyes met with those ones. Those hard. Emerald. Eyes.

"You're not Charles," that husky, dark, smoky, beautiful voice said.

Michiru chuckled politely at the apparent confusion. He was cute. Yeah. That's the word. Cute. Innocent. Adorable. What a shame. Something flashed beneath her iris as she began to move past the young man, shaking her head.

"You're right, I'm not. Turn around and take the first left. That's where he should be," her step quickened with her heart rate. She wanted to be out of his presence. She didn't want to see his bloodied face. A small flush threatened to creep along her neck, but she commanded her body to not do silly things. She wanted to tell him to run before he was caught. She wanted to push him back. To tell him that he needed to get out. But she couldn't. She was bound. Gagged. And defeated.

"Good night," she said, her voice soft and quiet as the wind as she quickly darted back inside the building. Their eyes met for a brief second, her smile never leaving her lips. She regretted that one. She should never look. Ever.

No more. She would speak to him no more.

That heavy steel door closed behind her, once again. She looked at the deserted part that she now inhabited, her heart racing, her blood coursing. Every nerve in her body had been shot. And she stood there, clutching her case tightly in the palm of her hand. Slowly, she swallowed. Always hated looking into the eyes of a fighter. It was unnerving. Her stomach turned gently, yet uncomfortably as she willed herself to move forward. They all would have left by now.

And she was comforted by the fact that she was right. Stealthily, she moved back to her announcers box, without so much as a 'Hello!' or a 'Good job!' In an isolated box, one could just let everything go. Being alone. It was the best cure for anything. That's what she had to keep telling herself. After all, she wasn't really alone. She had everyone here. She sat down into her chair, her posture ridged as a starched shirt.

Wasn't this the life?

Yeah. Sure.

She looked down at the sheet in front of her and flicked on the microphone for the billionth time. And she spoke. This was her.

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AN: Annnnnd. I'm back from North Dakota. And here I am, as promised, a bright, shiny, new chapter. It's not really my best, but it's some stuff that really really had to happen. So be patient with me. I have a feeling that this fic will be that way sometimes. I have to set some things up, you know. I don't know if I actually really liked this particular chapter. It took me a while to get into it and I'm sure one of my reviewers can tell you that I procrastinated the hell out of writing this. But as promised, I delivered. Holy crap. x_x It's 1 am. Well! So long as it's out there before I get skinned alive! Sorry it's a little shorter than my previous chapters, but I really wanted to get this out there for you all to read. Originally, this chapter and chapter 2 were supposed to be one chapter, but I didn't really want to give you guys like this HUGE wall of text to read, so I decided to split it up. I think it worked pretty well. So. Yeah. Thanks for being patient with me, and thanks for all the kind reviews. Which means onwards to replies:

Lostinhersong - Well. They sort of have met now. Haha. But be patient. I promise that I'll deliver something more satisfying soon enough.

Swinging Cloud - And here you are. Now you can rejoice and no one will die today because I didn't update. Hahaha. I didn't realize that when I said that someone would beat me to death about updating that it would be you. How ironic is that? Haha. I don't mind though, keep doing it. Anyways. Yeah.

Ami - You'll find out in a later chapter. I can't reveal that secret yet!

T. - You're the only one who asked the right question. Who is Mr. White. But that is something that I can't divulge quite yet. Once again, it'll all be explained. And once again, thank you for the criticism. It's much appreciated.

Tripower - Wow. I once tried to get a German girl to read my writing and she was so lost. I'm impressed with your English. ^^ I dually thank you for your review and criticism.

Petiyaka - Buaha. 'Nuff said. [/heart]

Thank you for all that reviewed. I really appreciate the support. I heart you guys. You make me happy. So, I'm glad that you all like it so far.

Once again, if you have any questions, drop me a review and I'll be sure to reply to it in the next chapter. Or you could drop me a review anyways. I really like reviews. They make me happy.