"How much for this fine young lady, eh?" an old guy, about forty, asked the man selling her as he picked up a lock of her pink hair.

"Two thousand," the man replied, glancing at the girl he was selling. His daughter. Amu Hinamori. She was in barley any clothes; just a very revealing, too tight dress that went down to about where pockets would have been if she had been wearing jeans.

She hated this. She hated being put up for market, having a price. Her father had said, 'I'll come back for you as soon as I'm on my feet again. This is our only choice,' but Amu had a feeling it wasn't. She had a feeling her dad could have done anything else. And, also, a feeling he wouldn't come back for her. But when they were lining up, getting ready for the selling of slaves, his hand had touched her arm, and a whisper escaped her father's lips. "I'm sorry," he had whispered, the sound so quiet it was like wind. This would be his last, "I'm sorry." He had always said this to her, because of what he did. He did something she would not tell anyone, not even if her mother came back from the dead.

The old man studied her for a while longer, looking at places that shouldn't be looked at. Like her cleavage, which was showing way too much, thanks to the sluttish dress and push-up bra. "Not worth it, the man said, and moved on to the next. There were a row of people selling their slaves; none selling their daughter. No, daughters were meant to be loved… not sold.

Amu's mouth dropped agape as the man passed. She wasn't worth it! But her father put a soothing hand on her shoulder. "I warned you about this," he whispered in his sixteen-year-old daughter's ear, "I warned you that not everyone will want you, and not everyone will keep their mouths shut."

Amu's mouth closed. She knew this too… but she wasn't worth it?

Then another man came up. He studied her. The man was about five years older than her; twenty-one. "How much?" he asked. He looked poor, wearing a comfortable shirt, not like the puffy, itchy ones all the other men were wearing. He also wore loose pants, not tights. To her, he looked hot. And to him, the feelings were mutual.

Her father laughed slightly, and replied, "More than you have."

The man looked at her father like he was asking him how much he wanted to bet. "And how much would that be?"

Amu's father replied, "What, one-hundred?"

A smirk made it's way across the man with the navy blue hair's face, his midnight eyes filled with some harsh humor. "No, I have more than she costs. Which would be…?"

Her father gave in and said, "Two thousand."

The man handed him the two thousand, with still five thousand left. Her father was surprised, but handed him Amu. Amu blushed, looking down at the ground.

"Come on," he said, "my carriage is this way."

"If you hadn't noticed, this isn't a very comfortable dress, and I can't breath much less walk in it!" Amu spat.

The man didn't mind her attitude much. But he was in a trance by her voice. Her voice like bells, like songbirds in the morning. But he got that out of his mind quickly, and picked her up.

"Ah! W-what are you d-doing?" Amu stuttered, in a panic attack. Her bare feet kicked.

"Don't worry, all I'm doing is carrying you," The man replied. He sat her in the carriage, then the driver drove off. "So," the man said, "what's your name?"

Amu was silent for a second, wondering why he wanted to know this. Why he was being… kind, if that's the right word, to her. "Amu Hinamori," she replied, looking at her hands that were placed gently in her lap.

The man smiled. "Amu," he said, as if getting the name down, or tasting it on his tongue. "I like that. Anyway, my name, if you must know, it Ikuto Tsukiyomi."

There was an awkward silence after that, because Amu didn't know what she should say, being his 'slave' and all, so she said, "Alright, hello, Tsukiyomi-san."

Ikuto laughed. "No, no… call me Ikuto!"

Amu looked up. "Really?" she asked.

"Yeah!" he laughed again, his laughs sounding like jingles. "I don't plan on setting you to work or anything."

This was a surprise to Amu. Not setting her to work? Was he planning to… Oh, she couldn't even think that word!

Rape?

No!, she thought, shaking her head. Ikuto looked at her funny, so she replied, "…um, there was a bug."

He laughed harder, and the driver laughed slightly, too. Even though she didn't see what was so funny.

When they got to Ikuto's house- a mansion-Amu stood with her mouth agape.

"Shut your mouth," Ikuto said, "or else bugs will fly into it."

Amu shut her mouth, and Ikuto laughed again. Amu just glared.

"Anyway," Ikuto said, picking Amu up. "Come on. I want to get you into better, more comfortable clothes, then I'll give you a tour of the house."

House?, Amu thought, looking at it again. That was not a house. It was a mansion! But she kept her thoughts to herself as he carried her. Into the door, and across the very large room, with a carpet leading to stairs. Right above the stairs was a chandelier, so beautiful Amu had to stare at it for at least a little while. Then Ikuto walked up the stairs, and down a hallway, painted gold, and into a room.

"Hold on a second while I get the keys to your room. It's locked because it wasn't being used. You can go ahead and look around, if you like. I'm not a mean person, and I don't have secrets to hide." Except one, Ikuto thought, setting Amu down and turning to go look for the key.

Amu looked around the room. It was painted a slightly lighter shade of Ikuto's hair, and there looked to be cats running along the bottom. Little black cats… His bed was the shade of his eyes, the pillows black and white. There was a black dresser, and a black-framed mirror. Then, there was something that really caught her eye. It was a violin. There was a violin in Ikuto's room.

He came out, and reported, "Alright, I got the key. Let's go to your room."

"Um," Amu spoke softly. Ikuto stopped, even though she though he wouldn't be able to hear.

"Yes?" he asked, with such a kind voice. It was like he wanted her to feel at home; like this was where she belonged. But only one problem.

She didn't believe that. Not at all.

"Um, where is my room?," she said, looking down, avoiding eye contact.

Ikuto said, "Your room is out in the shed."

Amu looked up wit wide eyes. "Th-the shed…?"

Then Ikuto started to laugh.

She looked at him, confused. "What?" she asked over his hysterical laughing.

His laughing lightened up and he said, "I was kidding! Why would I keep you there? God, you're so gullible!"

Amu got mad, and Ikuto picked her up. After about thirty seconds of walking through the hall, Ikuto felt her rage and whispered in her ear, "I'm sorry."

His voice sounded like the wind, and for a second she thought she had just imagined the quiet apology. It brought back memories.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered, as he came closer to her.

Amu tore out of Ikuto grasp and fell on her butt. She did a crabwalk type thing away from Ikuto, staring at him with eyes of fear. Ikuto looked at her, confused. "What…?" Ikuto asked, walking closer. When Amu kept doing the deformed crabwalk, he felt it was best to just stop. So he sat.

He sat there, staring at her wide eyes that followed him. And the two of them stayed there, sitting in the middle of the hallway, for a full fifteen minutes before Ikuto said something.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

Amu was looking down at the floor as she mumbled, "That's what you said last time. That what you say all the time. But you always do…"

Ikuto looked at her, confused, but then let it slide. People had pasts. So he said, "It's okay. There was no last time with us, Amu. I'm not who you're imagining I am. My name is Ikuto Tsukiyomi. And you're safe with me."

She looked up at him, finally, and tears threatened. They threatened, but they didn't actually flow. She blinked them back.

Ikuto got up, and walked over to her. Amu took his outstretched hand and he pulled her up, then from there he picked her up.

They made their way up to her room. They walked in, and it the first thing Amu noticed was the theme. A beach theme. The walls were painted a pale pink, the bed a beige. There were small sculptures made of sea glass scattered around the room. It almost brought tears to Amu's eyes because it was so beautiful.

"Wait…," Amu said, realization coming to her. "I'm you're slave and you're treating me like,…like royalty. Why?"

"Well," Ikuto said, "Slaves are people. And I'm not going to make you work. Maybe I'll have you cook breakfast sometimes, but only if you're a good cook. I just like having company."

Amu blinked. "I'm good in the kitchen."

He laughed. "Good," he said, smiling. "I'm glad."

Okay, I KNOW I already posted a story today, but this one is one I started when my internet was down. ...Can anyone tell me why it's called 'internet'? ...Woa, airhead moment... but anyway, yeah... So, like... this one is one that's going to be different than my others. And it's not in out time... I don't know what time it is... a time when they had slaves...? I don't know, but tp me it doesn't really matter. :P

Anyway, I know Ikuto's not really in character, but... eh, I'll start to get him on track. I mean, I didn't know how he would act if he was buying someone for company... LOL! Well, anyway, Please reveiw! or is it review... CRAP! My brain's dead... Why would that to that rule IECExcept? (I before E excpet after C) because "Weird" is e before I, and there's no c... And there's a lot of others. So why did that make that rule? Anyway, sorry, I'm tired and feeling a little sick (I'll get over it in no time :p ) so it's all... jumbled in my head. ...yup.

ANYWAY! I hope you enjoyed this story, and now I'm going to go on Facebook or something, just waiting for your reveiws. Maybe I'll read a story on here. Who knows? Oh! I could- nvm... Anyway, bubye! REVEIW! :p