It had been a week since Michael had brought Momiji home. It was a modest bungalow with a decent yard in a bad neighbourhood. The lawn was trimmed and vibrant. It was the love of his foster's father life. A week since he had stopped a man from forcing himself on the poor, young blonde. A week since he had left that acrid place Taboo. A week of total non-events and mundane routine, which was to say, a perfect week after that terrible day he had spent at the club.

Fortunately for Michael, his foster parents never really knocked on his door or were hardly home in the first place, making it easy for him to hide Momiji in his room. He let the blonde sleep on his bed while he slept on the floor, which was perfectly fine with him. Momiji told Michael it was okay to share the bed and even requested it, but after his experiences at Taboo, he wasn't exactly up for anything remotely intimate.

When it was time to school, Michael thought Momiji would head to his classes, but he refused to leave the room. “If I go to class, then that man will be sure to find me.” He explained. The kid was generally a happy-go-lucky spirit, even bordering on annoying with how positive and hyperactive he was at times, but whenever he talked about that man or his family, his smile always faded. It was why Michael never forced Momiji to go. If the kid felt it was unsafe for him, then Michael wouldn't disagree with him.

The first day back at school for Michael was a bit strange. He hadn't realized how many of the dancers went to his school. Sokka, Jake, Deku, even the mute Link greeted him upon sight. He did his due diligence, exchanging quick pleasantries before finding ways to slink off somewhere else. Michael figured that none of the dancers knew about what had transpired that night. Zelos had warned him not to mention it to them when he left, and now he wondered just how far in the dark they were with the club.

When classes were done, Michael skipped going to the mall to pickpocket easy targets and hurried home to Momiji. Stepping into his room, he found the kid laying on his bed, watching YouTube videos on his laptop. “How was your day?” Michael asked him as he set his backpack down onto his bed.

“It was lots of fun!” Momiji replied. “I spent the entire time on your computer. There's so much on the Internet!” Michael cocked his eyebrow at the comment. What kid Momiji's age didn't know the Internet like the back of their hand yet?

“Did you go on the computer a lot before?” Michael asked.

“Not really. It was mostly for the adults.”

“What did you do for fun?”

“Usually played with my cousins.” Momiji said, his smile deflating once more. Michael had hit another sore subject.

“So, what kind of stuff did you watch?” Michael asked.

“I really like travel videos. I was watching this one couple travel all around the world. A lot of videos about Japan and Germany. I've always wanted to visit where my parents are from.” A sad smile stretched across Momiji's lips.

The pale teen could feel his heart pang with dread. From just a few hours with the kid, he could tell Momiji had been through a lot. Yet, the blonde still smiled and bopped about. It kind of reminded him of Genis. That's when he began to think what sort of pain Genis was hiding underneath all of those smiles, and how brightly the kid was smiling at Taboo.

He shook his head, emptying his head of the thought. He couldn't allow himself to feel anything less than resentment for Kakashi and all the people who let those terrible things happen at Taboo. “Did my foster parents suspect anything while I was gone?”

“Not really. They left pretty soon after you did. But don't worry, I still didn't leave like you asked me to.” The blonde said as his stomach rumbled. Michael's eyes widened. He forgot to leave food for him.

“What did you eat all day?” Michael asked.

“I had some snacks in my bag.”

“Let me go make you something.” The older teen said as he left his room. He headed into the kitchen and whipped up a quick sandwich for the blonde, who devoured it almost instantly.

The afternoon was a bit more difficult to keep Momiji hidden. When his foster parents came home, Michael told Momiji to remain quiet at all times. When dinner came, he would sneak extras up to his room for the blonde. Every time he heard footsteps near his door, Momiji snuck under the bed. His foster parents had a bad habit of barging in without knocking, so it was good that they had a protocol for the few times that his foster father did slam open his door to rant about some nonsense he saw on the news.

Once night came, it was smooth sailing. Michael slept on the floor, Momiji slept on the bed and his foster parents knocked out like a light.

The first week went by with ease. The second week was when things started to get difficult. It seemed anywhere Michael went, he was followed by the events that happened went down at Taboo. At school, most of the dancers had stopped trying to get a conversation out of him when they realized he hadn't returned to the club. They didn't stop greeting him, which was nice, but it seemed they had reduced the efforts to converse with him. Sokka still tried, and so did Jake, but Michael never let the conversations go much further then “Hey.”

He felt bad. Those guys did nothing wrong. Truth be told, for the brief moment that he did talk to them at the club, he enjoyed their company. But, he couldn't allow himself to go back to the club under any circumstances, and friendships with them would only make returning to Taboo easier.

By the middle of the week, even Sokka and Jake had relegated themselves to friendly nods in the hallway. All seemed well, until he saw Neji approach him. The long-haired teen rarely wore a pleasant expression on his face, but today his expression seemed more serious than usual. Michael had been standing at his locker when Neji walked up to him.

“Hey.” Michael said to him.

“We need to talk.”

“Look, I'm not coming--”

“It's not about that. Just follow me. Better to talk in private.” Neji said. Michael obliged him. He closed his locker and followed Neji down the hall, down the stairs, and out to the back of the school. There were a row of portables along the back of the school and an open field with a track around it for sporting events. A couple of kids who had gym class were already on the track doing laps. Some kids who were skipping or had spares lounged on the grass. It wasn't the most private of places, but anyone who tried listening in could be seen.

“Tim told me about what you saw.” Neji told him. “He told me you were on security detail.”

“Look, I already told him that I'm not going to tell anyone. It's been a week and my lips have been sealed.”

“So you have no interest in coming back?”

“How could I? Inuyasha murdered someone, and you all act like it's fine.” Michael replied, trying his best not to get worked up lest his voice get louder. The response must not have been what Neji was looking for, because the older teen went to speak, but didn't say anything. He just reached into his pocket and pulled out a fat wad of cash.

“Here. Your cut from the night. Just over a thousand.” Michael tried not to react, but he couldn't stop his jaw from dropping just a little. A thousand dollars in just one night?! No matter how badly he wanted that money, he knew he couldn't take it. He pushed Neji's hand away.

“Take it. I don't want--”

“Just take the fucking money.” Neji said, pushing his hand back to Michael. “We don't need it. I made quadruple this for one private session.” He pointed out. “You still need it, so take it.” When he put it that way, Michael suddenly saw no qualms about taking the money. He grabbed it from Neji and slipped it into his pocket.

“I know you already said, multiple times, that you don't want to come back, but the door's always open if you want to.” Neji said as he walked away.

That was a firm no for Michael. The offer would be on the table until the day he died because he was never going to take it.

When Michael got home, he circled around to his backyard. Underneath the steps to the porch, hidden underneath a broken pot, was a metal lockbox. Michael pulled the key out from his pocket and opened it up. Inside were tons of loose bills and jewelry. They were Michael's spoils from his days at the mall. He had learned not to store them in his room after one of his former foster parents searched through his room every day when he was at school and stole them.

“Mmff...”

Michael stood up as he heard a soft moan. Looking above him, the window to his room was open.

“It feels so big...” Said a high-pitched voice.

There was no doubt about it. There were very few people with a voice like that. It had to be Momiji.

Michael rushed into his house and made a bee line for his room. He barged inside and stood shocked at what he saw. The blonde had a shirt on, but no pants. He had his legs spread wide open, his cock fully erect and a pink dildo shoved inside of him. The worst part of it all was that Michael's laptop was in front of the blonde, pointed right at the kid. Momiji looked up at Michael, his eyes stark wide like a deer caught in headlights.

“You think that's good, you should wait until you feel my cock inside of you.” Said a scruffy voice from his laptop speakers.

The pale teen marched over and slammed his laptop closed. “What the hell are you doing?!” Michael yelled.

“I...I was just having fun while you were away.” Momiji replied as he pulled the dildo out of himself.

“With some stranger on the internet?!”

“Y-Yeah...”

“How long have you been doing this?”

“For a couple of years.” That wasn't the answer he was looking for at all. He was just talking about how long the kid had been camming in his room.

“I thought you said you didn't use the Internet.”

“I don't really. Mostly to cam.”

“Funny how you neglected to tell me that until I had to find you doing it.”

“I didn't want you to get upset.” Momiji said as he began to tear up.

“You could have just not done it at all!” Michael shouted at him.

“I...I tried...but it's really hard.” Momiji told him. “That's why Dad sent me to Akito. He thought Akito could get me to stop, but he didn't.” The rage building up in Michael steadied for a bit as Momiji mentioned his family.

“Okay. You need to tell me about your family right now. What the hell was going on the day I found you?” Michael asked.

The young blonde closed his legs and grabbed a pillow, holding it against his chest. “The man you saved me from...I was sold to him.”

“Sold?!”

“Yeah. Akito sold me.” He explained.

“Who the fuck is Akito?”

“He's a distant cousin. The head of our family.”

“And he sold you...” Michael couldn't understand how all of this crazy shit kept happening around him. What was it about him that drew all of this drama towards him? He was like a tragic magnet. Maybe he'd use the money Neji gave him to hire a therapist so he could figure all of this shit out.

“Yeah. When my Dad caught me camming with a stranger, he sent me to Akito, who takes in a lot of the children of our family for discipline. At least, that's what they tell the adults.”

“And what does he really do?” Michael asked, feeling like he already knew the answer.

“He rents us out to business men. I think he uses us to get one over on the business men, so he can have some sort of power over them.” Momiji said. “The man you scared off the other day...he was a frequent visitor of mine. He usually treated me nice, but when Akito said I was going to live with him, I was scared. I knew I'd never see my Dad or my Mom again if I went with him.”

How fucked up was this world? Families selling off their own kin just for power? He refused to believe this is what the world was like. He had spent his whole life in squalor, going from home to home, from abusive parent to neglectful parent. The only thing keeping him going was knowing that the world got better. Everything would get better. But if the world was only filled with Taboos and Somas, then what the fuck was the point?!

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier.” Momiji said, looking genuinely apologetic.

“It's...whatever.” Michael replied, not having the energy to carry on with the conversation. He opened up his laptop and clicked on the browser. The entire history was filled with cam sites. If only he had clicked the scrollbar on the address bar once, he'd have seen all of the sites. Instead, he went to the same sites he always did, never the wiser.

“So, you've been doing this every day since you got here?”

“Yeah...”

“And when you cam, do you show your entire body?”

“Yeah.”

“Including your face?”

“Akito said that's what most people liked about me, so yeah.”

“Weren't you worried that the man who bought you would try looking for you online?” Michael asked.

“I didn't think about that.”

“Or that he might have told Akito about you, and he'd be looking for you online.” The words struck fear into Momiji's heart. The kid tensed up and clutched the pillow tighter.

“He wouldn't be able to find me, would he?”

“I don't fucking know.” The pale teen replied. Before, he would've said no. Tracking someone down on the Internet was shit you only saw on television and movies. But then again, so were murders and child prostitutes and people selling their fucking families. At this point, he couldn't rule out anything anymore.

Looking over at Momiji, he saw that his words had only worried the blonde even more. Part of him wanted to just ignore the kid. He had gotten himself into this mess, and he had nothing to blame but his own stupidity if they did track him down. He couldn't bring himself to listen to that part of him. He scooted down the bed, getting closer to Momiji. “Hey. Look. Don't worry. No one will find you. And if they do, I'll stop them from taking you like last time.” Michael told him. Did he mean those words? Not really, but he just wanted to see the kid smile again. No one that young should have to worry for his life.

Momiji hugged Michael, and Michael hugged him back. “Thank you Michael.”

“No problem. Now please, put some pants on.” The teen told him. The blonde chuckled and slipped on his shorts.

For the next couple of days, things returned to normal. No one gave him random wads of cash at school. No one showed up unannounced at his house to pick up Momiji. The kid had even cut down on how often he cammed. Michael checked the history every day when he got back from school and would only see one or two sites compared to the four or five he saw before. The kid even swore he never showed his face anymore.

All seemed like it was going well, until Friday night came.

Michael's foster parents had gone out for the night. They usually went clubbing on Friday nights and wouldn't return home until Saturday afternoon. It meant Michael had the house to himself and Momiji. The kid suggested they have a slumber party, so Michael went with it. They watched movies, ate a ton of pizza and Michael even obliged Momiji with a pillow fight. The joy on Momiji's face was worth being a dork for a few minutes, and even he couldn't deny that he wasn't enjoying himself as well.

It was past midnight when Momiji called it a night. He walked back to Michael's room and shut the door. Michael remained on the couch in the den, watching the last half to the dumb action flick he had called up. He didn't care to see the end of the film. He just wanted to sleep on a surface that wasn't the floor. He felt his eyelids start to get heavy and it wasn't long before he found himself drifting off to sleep.

Michael had always been a light sleeper, so when he heard the door knob to his front door jiggle, he woke up. His foster parents wouldn't be too pleased if they found him sleeping on the couch instead of his bed, so he got up and started heading back to his bedroom. As he stood up from the couch, he paused. Something seemed off. If it was his foster parents coming home, they'd be a lot louder and they wouldn't jiggle with the lock so much. Even if they forgot their keys, they knew there was a spare taped under the ledge of the front window.

The door opened and Michael quickly hid behind the sofa. The house wasn't very big. One could pretty much see the entire place from the front door. The kitchen was to the right and the den was to the left. In the middle was a long hallway with the bedrooms and bathrooms on either side of the hall. There was only one real wall separating the kitchen from the rest of the house, meaning there were no corners for Michael to hide behind. Behind the sofa was the best spot.

He peeked out from behind the armrest as someone stepped inside. He was much taller than his foster father. It was hard to make out what he looked like without any light on him. As the figure got closer, the dim light of the television finally illuminated the man. Michael still couldn't make out many details, but he did see the light reflect off of something shiny on his breast. It was a badge.

The fear set in as the man stepped closer and he saw more. A police uniform. A cap. A gun in his holster. It was the man Michael had saved Momiji from. He had found the kid. Michael remained hidden behind the couch as the cop creeped down the hallway. He was getting closer and closer to Michael's bedroom. He couldn't let the man get Momiji. Sure, he had kind of lied to Momiji earlier when he said he would protect him, but he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he let the blonde get taken.

“Hey!” Michael shouted as he stood up. It was the dumbest thing he could have done. The cop turned around and pointed his gun at Michael. Instantly, the teen put his hands above his head.

“You're that kid from before.”

“I have a name.” Michael always knew his mouth would be the death of him. Now wasn't the time to be back talking someone, especially when they had a fucking gun pointed at him.

“Yeah. I know, Michael.” Hearing his name leave the cop's lips paralyzed him. He didn't like that a total stranger knew his name. “Look kid, I'm just here for my Momiji--”

“Your Momiji?” Michael asked. He cursed himself mentally. Why couldn't he shut the fuck up?

“Yes. He's mine. I bought him.” The cop said with a rabid look in his eyes. Michael gulped. Not only was there a man pointing a gun at him in his house, but the man was clearly not entirely there.

“Couldn't you buy someone else? Why do you need Momiji?”

“Because I love him, and he loves me.”

“Jesus Christ.” Michael muttered to himself.

“Look, dude. He's just a kid. Just leave him alone.”

“Just let me take him and I'll leave.” The cop said as he started to turn the doorknob to Michael's bedroom. “But I can't leave you here. You might report me.” The cop's hand released the doorknob as he took two steps closer to Michael, his gun aimed at the teen's head.

Michael stepped back. It only took three steps before his back was up against the wall. His heart was racing. “Please. I swear. I won't tell anyone.” Michael pleaded.

“Lost cause foster kid shot to death in his fifth foster home. The police won't question a thing.” The cop said as he stepped closer. He passed the couch, then the TV, and then he stood right in front of Michael. The teen had closed his eyes as he panted hopelessly. He felt the cold steel of the gun barrel against his forehead. This was it. He knew it in his heart of hearts that this was the end of the road.

BANG!

Blood splattered all over the floor, the walls, the television and Michael's face.

The teen opened his eyes to see the cop dead on the floor, a bullet hole in the side of his head. Michael slumped to the ground, his vision going blurry as the adrenaline rushed through his system. He could feel the cop's warm blood on his face. He could see a pool of crimson surrounding the body. He could smell his brains. All he could think about was trying to breathe.

“Michael!” The teen's head snapped to the front door. In the doorway stood Tim, who was now running over to him, gun in hand.

“You...you killed...”

“Tim, get him out of there. I can see some people turning on their lights.” A familiar voice said over Tim's receiver.

“Come on. We've got to go. If you stay, you'll be locked up.” Tim said as he grabbed Michael by his arm.

“Mo...Momi...” Michael couldn't even find the strength to finish the name. His eyes just darted over to his bedroom door.

“We've already grabbed him. Let's go.” The teen wasn't sure how, but he stood up and followed Tim outside. Parked in front of their house was a white, police cruiser. That couldn't be good. In the driveway was a black Jeep. Tim opened the door to the back and Michael hopped inside. Momiji was already in the middle of the back seat, seated next to the last person he had ever wanted to see again. The silver-haired demon who slit that man's neck open. Inuyasha.

“Let's go, Jackson.” Tim said as he hopped in the passenger seat. Jackson, who was in the driver's seat. Jackson pulled out of the driveway and sped down the street.

“Momiji, are you alright?” Michael asked as he turned towards the kid.

“Y-Yeah. Inuyasha climbed into your room and grabbed me while I was still sleeping. What just happened?”

“The man that bought you came back to grab you.” Michael told him.

“So he did find me.” The blonde looked down at the floor. Tim reached back and handed Michael a towel. The pale teen grabbed it and wiped the blood off of his face and clothes.

“His name is Elton Davidson.” Tim told them.

“How do you know?” Michael asked. Now that the fear was fading away, it was quickly being replaced with rage.

“He used to be a customer at Taboo. He was breaking too many of our rules, so we banned him. To make sure he never talked, we had a couple of people keep an eye on him. He had dropped off our radar until recently.” Tim said.

“When we found him staking out your place.” Jackson chimed in.

“Wait, he was spying on us? And how did you know? Were you spying on me?” Inuyasha reached over and punched Michael in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. The teen doubled over as he struggled to breathe.

“We save your fucking life and that's how you're gonna act?!” Inuyasha growled at him. Michael glared at the silver-haired demon. He was the last person that should be lecturing him on ethics. But, as much as he hated to admit it, he did have a point. If it wasn't for them, he'd be the body on the floor of his house.

“We were making sure nothing bad happened to you after you left. Kakashi thought it best that we keep a couple of guys on you to-”

“Make sure I didn't snitch.” Michael finished.

“Actually, to make sure you weren't followed.” Tim corrected. “We then found Elton scoping out your house. We sent Neji to tell you about it.”

“He didn't do that at all.”

“Because you didn't let him.” Jackson interjected. “He said you wanted nothing to do with us, so it would be better for us to operate without you knowing. We thought we could keep you safe. We're sorry for not doing a better job.” The black teen said.

A wave of guilt washed over Michael. Even after all he did to try and distance himself, the guys still tried to keep an eye out for him. “I appreciate it, but I'm still not going back to Taboo.” Michael told them.

“That's fine.” Tim said. Michael cocked an eyebrow. If they weren't going to Taboo...

“Where are you taking me?” Michael asked.

“You're moving in with us.” Tim told him. “You can't exactly return to your foster home with a dead cop there. They'll think you did it.” Tim explained. “It won't be permanent. Just until we figure out your situation.”

“Am I coming too?” Momiji asked.

“Inuyasha's going to take you to a different house with kids closer to your age.” Tim explained. Momiji's eyes widened, the prospect of meeting kids closer to his age eclipsing the trauma of the events that just occurred.

“You have any objections?” Inuyasha asked.

“I guess not.” Michael muttered. He couldn't believe it. He had spent two weeks trying to get away from these people, and when all was said and done, he got pulled right back into them. At this point, it was starting to feel like this was some sort of destiny of his, and he was getting tired of fighting it.