A losing plan

Chapter 4

"What do you want to know?"

You weren't eager to get started. The rising unease inside of you was making you tense and Heero quickly became aware of it.

"Come here," he called out.

At your dubious look, Heero merely extended one arm in invitation and your eyes shifted towards his hand. Should you listen? You were slow in your approach, obviously unsure what to make of both his order and his silent invitation.

"Sit," came the next order.

Your lips pulled downwards as you regarded Heero carefully. You stood well within his reach, but Heero didn't tug you closer. The decision was obviously your own, which was something you appreciated more than you could say. Only when you actually sat on the edge of his bed, did Heero lower his arm again - his hand landing on your knee.

"Happy?" you sarcastically questioned, crossing your arms and glaring at the pillow.

Heero's lips twitched in answer. The guy was enjoying this a little too much! The entire interaction left you feeling slightly strange, but you both wisely ignored it.

"You told me you were part of the Shanghai division," Heero began, his voice calm and even.

"He ... He has more?" you weakly questioned, unwilling to believe that such a menace could exist in more places.

"Many more."

That was an unsettling thought. The Shanghai branch wasn't big, but it dealt with at least fifteen fights per month. You shivered, the sudden memory of all those cages and their inhabitants a hard one to suppress. It was only after a few minutes that you realized that Heero hadn't spoken again. Was he still waiting for confirmation? You shot him a brief look, only to find him intently studying you.

"What?" you hoarsely questioned, before coughing and trying to get rid of the coarseness.

His eyes contained a storm of thoughts and an endless stream of possible questions - each one more depressing than the previous one - flashed through your mind. You quickly looked away, unable to stomach that penetrating look any longer.

"How long did he keep you there?" Heero finally questioned.

"About eighteen months or so," you softly sighed with a seemingly careless shrug. You were relieved that you could at least handle these types of questions.

"Hn."

That grunt gave you little knowledge of what Heero thought about it. Another quick glance proved that even his gaze was guarded, telling you little about what he was truly thinking.

"I saw tons of people come and go during that time. Anyone from teens to middle-aged folk were good enough to use. Sasaki isn't shy of anything. In the end, a fight is a fight and that is all those pigs are paying to see," you muttered to break the silence.

"And how does he acquire his fighters?"

You shrugged, the listless motion not to Heero's liking if you could correctly judge that frown.

"Some are simply plucked off the streets, I guess. Others are bought or forced to fight to pay off their debts."

You recognized - and hated - the silent question in his gaze.

'And you?'

"I was bought," you bitterly muttered.

"How?"

"With a certain amount of credits, I'm sure," you haughtily stated, knowing that it was not what Heero had meant. His soft growl proved you were right. "Before you try to reprimand me for that answer, I suggest you think very hard about your questions, Heero. You wanted to know about Sasaki. Him buying me is the point where my story with him begins. Anything preceding it is none of your damn business."