REBIRTH
Dear Readers. I hope that you can forgive me for my long absence from this story. I own nothing except the Oocness and the AU. All characters, except those not mentioned in Manga or Anime, are not mine but the mangaka's. The next chapters will come out over the next weeks. Thank you for your patience.
Chapter Eight: Jono
'Patience is something that the Gods gave men', Jono could hear Mama say in his head. Gritting his teeth Jono attempted to swallow a snarl as he felt the Slave Master thrust his hands between the boy's legs to feel his genitals. The Slave Master chuckled as he heard Jono's attempt to stifle his snarl.
"I know, I know. You want ta bite my hand off for touchin ya." The man sneered, "Well ya ain't got any noticeable deform'aties so your price ain't gonna be high, but your black hair and red eyes make you just strange en'uf to sell you as a pleasure boy to some Roman purse."
Jono sneered right back, feeling his stomach churn at the idea of going back to Rome-to be a pleasure slave of all things. But he couldn't afford to be picky. Three months had passed sooner than he had thought; almost one month to reach this town, another to find work and lodging, and another to find a place to sell himself. After the death of his foster parents, Kisara had become silent and sickly. The work he was doing for the local inn brought him a few coins, but it was nowhere near enough to buy good medicine, much less give her enough for daily needs.
"My name's Donnie, that's Master Donnie to you boy." Master Donnie grinned down at Jono. Donnie wasn't bad looking, but plain. With mundane brown hair, Donnie looked like any person in the street, except for a slight malicious gleam in his brown eyes.
"We have a contract Master Donnie," Jono said, gritting his teeth as he almost chocked on the words 'Master', "I get the asking price. You get the rest. I won't fight anyone who buys me or do anything that will bring your name, or your company's, shame."
"That's right, and by doing this I don't touch your little sister." Donnie's smile dimmed a little at this remark. He had caught glimpses of Kisara and knew that she would have fetched a neat little profit on the slave market, her pale skin and eyes made her look almost ethereal. "I am a man of my word. I keep to my contracts."
Jono gave a sharp nod at this statement. He knew Donnie's reputation from what he heard in town. Donnie kept his contracts and the other signer had better keep their end too, or else. More importantly, Donnie was known as a greedy man, if he couldn't obtain fresh 'merchandise' then he made sure no one else could either. By making sure Donnie couldn't sell Kisara Jono was also trading for Donnie's protection.
"We'll be starting the bid tomorrow at noon, boy. You'll have to pretty up once you get back here, don't want to waste time now do we?" Donnie asked as he chuckled. Jono scowled at him, turned around and exited the slave selling building.
/
Kisara coughed harshly into her hands, blood clots formed on her pale palms. She grimaced and wiped them on the blankets under her. As she wiped her hands she silently gathered her courage to inform her brother of this new turn in her sickness.
Kisara felt like weeping, then again she always felt like weeping. She was quite sure that if her strong and kind brother hadn't been by her side she would have broken down and crawled off into some corner to die.
She crawled back into the piled of raggedy blankets, that served as a bed, and curled around her aching stomach. Kisara knew she was dying, the soothing voice in her head told her so. She was just grateful that she had someone there for her, to watch over her, as she passed on. Kisara felt her eyes tear up and her nose start to stuff itself with mucus.
"Kisara?" Jono's voice came from the open door way of their one room hovel. The concern in his voice, his beautiful voice, caused the tears she had been holding back to roll down her hallowed checks.
"Kisara!" His voice was sharper now, filled with fear and concern. He rushed over to the huddled form of his sister, fearing the worse, until he heard the muffled sob. He slowed his forward progress until he was at her side and sank to his knees, placing a hand on the small of her back.
"It's going to be alright Kisara," He crooned, gathering her fragile form into his arms, "I just sold myself to the slave master. Soon I'll be able to get you the medicine you need. I'll leave you in the care of the innkeeper and his wife, their nice folks, their decent folks. They already promised me that they'll take care of you when I'm gone."
Kisara felt her blood pound into her head. 'He's leaving me! My brother is leaving me! NO! No! nononononononononono!' She started sobbing uncontrollably as she grasped his filthy shirt, the same shirt he had worn the night of their parent's deaths.
"Kisara," Jono rocked her back and forth, like he used to do when she was a baby, and hummed.
"Don't," Kisara whimpered, "p-please don't l-leave me."
Jono kissed the top of her head, his eyes teary and forlorn.
"It's the only way I can get you the medicine you need. If you die then I'll kill myself, little one. As long as you are alive somewhere in this world, I know that I'll come back for you."
Kisara curled even tighter into Jono as tightly as Jono hugged her, as if they could melt together into one being. They fell asleep like that, on the dirty rags that served as their bed in the mud hovel that had no windows and only a single door.
/
Kisara, her shoulder clasped under the big hand of the innkeeper, watched as her brother-his ebony hair gleaming brightly under the morning sun-walked into the cart that would bring slaves into the Great Empire Rome. She clasped the flask of medicine to her chest and wept silently as the cart started to move.
Jono turned to look at his sister, ruby eyes meeting pale sapphires, and mouthed a single sentence. Kisara smiled and waved.
'I'll be back soon little one.'