Picking rare herbs and whatnot in the forest was a typical start to the day of Satsujin Tsukihana Hikaze --- and finding a motionless body strewn at the base of any of the trees there was typical, too.

The child seemed to be unconscious. A male nearing his teens, he sustained paralysis from nettle vine poison, lacerations from whipping, trauma from rape… another one of those poor little hookers who tried to escape their masters.

Dead? He hoped not, for no child deserves a death like this. He looked like a kitten, almost pretty, with tough, string-ike muscles wrapped around the thin limbs. No brothel-raised whore would be this well toned, nor threatening enough to be tied down this tightly, but the skin was never scarred before this, so he can’t be a slave for labor.

Who the hell is he?

Why is he here?

And what has he done?

Dead? Thankfully, no --- he could feel tiny tremors at his wrists, irregular and fading away. If he wants the child to live he will have to save his speculations for later.

I've watched the children come and go
a late long march into spring.
I sit and watch those children
jump in the tall grass,
leap the sprinkler,
walk in the ground.
Bicycle clothespin spokes,
the sound, the smell of swing set hands.

This is not good.

He and his lover were in the shade of their favorite tree, watching the crew cavort and picnic in this wide clearing. It was the only day of the week where they get a respite from… from…Lighten up you slut! he told himself. It gave him satisfaction to watch his fellow whores in innocent situations like this, where they acted like the children they were, or never were --- they were all suckers for hand-clapping games, Monopoly, and silliness in general.

Only one of them was not. Dark-haired, ruby-eyed, and slight of build, he was staring off into the horizon unseeingly, the way he was since he woke up.

From that moment he was a creature of no words, only grunts. It was as if the sperm of the bastard, or bastards, who raped him were a secret potion for turning children into mere zombies, the flesh of their spirits rotting. He could see the whole process behind the lusterless carbuncles.

He crept up to him and tapped his shoulder. "A gold coin for your thoughts?"

"Hn."

"Umm… Still not ready to talk? I understand, take your time. Let’s just play."

He turned around, eyebrows quizzical. "Play… what?"

Finally, he reacted beyond a grunt. "Hand-clapping."

"H-hand-clapping? What’s that?"

He doesn’t know how to play? At all? A stone materialized in his throat. "Umm… We start slow, chanting a rhyme and clapping our hands together to the beat, like this" --- he clapped his hands with air slowly, following a rhyme in his head --- "then anyone of us can speed up the rhyme and everyone must follow. The one who doesn’t falter in clapping to the rhythm wins."

"Hn. Whatever."

"The rhyme goes like this:

"Ready?"

I will try to sing a happy song.
I'll try and make a happy game to play.

He was more troubled the night before.

"The child worries me, Kani. Not a word. I think he’s been looking for his sword so that he can kill himself. How do we get him to lighten up?"

"You lighten up, slut." Dear Kani was nuzzling the crook of his neck. "He will come to terms with whatever happened to him. We all do."

"Still…"

"I agree there never is the right child to abuse, but as I will keep reminding you, Suji," Kani whispered to his skin, "your childhood was a rare thing among us demons. It’s no wonder so many of us grow up perverts."

"He doesn’t even know how to play!"

"Did I know before we met? Or any of the kids here, before you addicted them to it? You’re rushing things. You’ve forgotten how many months it took Hajime to laugh, have you? And you should remember that little girl in the harem you were in at seventeen…"

Come play with me, I whispered to my newfound friend.
Tell me what it's like to go outside…
I've never been.
Tell me what it's like to just go outside.
I've never been
and I never will.

"No, really… how does the sky look?"

She must be kidding, right? She’s never been outside?

"How does it look?"

"How does it look? Umm… purple like… like Father’s clothes…"

"And the air? It must smell so fragrant."

So fragrant…"Yes, like, during harvest time, you can smell nothing but the newly-cut rice stalks and stuff," he said, his silence broken with the force of memory, "… and when spring comes! The flowers just… burst all over the place. I can’t stop thinking that… they must be the ki blasts of the fertility gods. Many of them are blue like your eyes, Hoshi."

"The ground, the grass, how do they feel on bare feet, huh? Are they more like… um… rugs? The stone floor? What?"

Oh shit. I miss you, Momma. I want out of this fucking shit hole, with Hoshi. And let’s show her how the outside looks. His eyelids are cracking under the weight of liquid sorrow.

And his ears are picking up approaching steps.

"Um, Hoshi?"

"C’mon, tell me." She’s even prettier when her eyes sparkle like that, something that’s too rare for her.

"He’s coming."

And I'm not supposed to be like this.
I'm not supposed to be like this,
but it's okay.

His sweet Kani’s embraces warmed from lustfully hot to comforting. "Satsujin, all you can offer him is welcome to our friendship, if he will accept us. You’re doing it right as long as you don’t hurry him. He’s the only one who can unlock his private prison even if you wave the key in his face. It’s the same thing with Eros, you know…"

Inari and Agni, I love him so much. "Bull’s eye. Please don’t mention that kit again."

"Oh? Sorry. But by the way," the hugs started regaining its past heat. "I don’t think all of the kids already know him. We have to introduce him to them tomorrow."

Hey those kids are looking at me,
I told my friend, myself.
Those kids are looking at me.
They're laughing and they're running over here.
They're laughing and they're running over there.

The boy was very fast, so fast he wondered if the kids could still see their hands clearly, or could still understand the rhyme.

He noted out of the corner of his eyes that the kids are closing in on them. So they can’t see their hands clearly anymore.

The child stopped clapping and singing, suddenly swerving his head towards the hookers, skewering them on his sharp stare.

Tamago was the savior of the group. Clumsily, but trying desperately to be formal, he said, "Well, we are the crew of the Porneapolis and I guess you already know our president, Satsujin Tsukihana Hikaze, or Sigma, and his mate Kani. I am Tammy, the secretary of this organization, and we all welcome you."

"Hey! I’m Hajime."

"Maryam here." Soon the others were shooting their names to the boy simultaneously. He knitted his brows in confusion.

"I’m Phae… and you are…?"

Silence.

What do I do?
What can I do?
What should I do?
What do I say?
What can I say?
I said I'm not supposed to be like this.
Let's try to find a happy game to play.

"I’m… Hiei."

Tamago clapped his hands in delight. "Cool! We wanna join you… if you don’t mind."

"Um… okay."

Hajime was rubbing palms together. "This’ll be better with a bigger group, eh, Satz, Kani?"

I'm not supposed to be like this,
but it's okay...okay.

"Why of course! Ready?"