"I'm sorry, we can't explain the death of your wife, Tsukihisa-san, but her bodily functions seemed to just go haywire. We've never seen this before. Luckily, your baby survived, it's a girl." The doctor bit her lower lip anxiously and tapped her pen against her clipboard, "She's just undergoing a quick check to make sure she's healthy."

The tall business suit clad new father pulled at his hair gently, "When will I be able to see her?"

"In a few moments. She'll be handed off to you to take home as soon as her checkups done." The doctor turned to look behind her and smiled, a nurse carrying a small white bundle toward them, "Ah, here she comes now."

Tsukihisa-san sidestepped her and jogged the short distance to his child. The nurse, smiling, carefully placed the baby in his arms, "Congratulations, Tsukihisa-san! A healthy baby girl, she's a little underweight though, but that's understandable since she's premature. Do you have a name for her?"

But he wasn't listening to her, he stared down at the last remnant of his beloved wife, what was wrong? Why did you insist on coming out so early? But it's alright, I forgive you. "Kaiya. Forgiveness. Her name is Tsukihisa Kaiya."

()

15 years later…

"I win again, and you owe me another 100,000¥ (about 10,200 US dollars)." The men gathered around the table laughed harshly, "Tsukihisa-san, how do you intend to pay your rising debts?"

"Can you just forget about this little game? I can't have this going on my record and I can't keep withdrawing from the company funds…I can't lose my job!" His hands shook faintly, gambling had become an obsession of his since the death of his beloved wife, and he was rather bad at it. When he gambled, he lost money, when he lost money, he felt depressed, when he felt depressed, he drank…and when he drank he didn't stop and when he woke up the next morning Kaiya had bruises. They both never spoke about the things that happened on those nights, and he always made sure to leave painkillers on the table for her before she went to school, his way of apologizing – a peace treaty of sorts.

The people he usually gambled with were from the infamous Yakuza gang, and owing them money was a bad place to be in. If your debts were too much for you to possibly pay back, they pretended to be satisfied with taking all the money you did have – and then, of course, killing you. He just had to keep them thinking that he could pay them the money he owed them and that he wasn't in any sort financial trouble. And then his fear made him speak loosely, "I have something worth more than money! My 15 year old daughter is my most prized possession!"

"A daughter? Do you have a picture?" The men at the table shared snickers, "We'll judge her worth."

Shakily, he tugged his phone out of his pocket and showed them his background, a picture of him and his daughter taken the month before at her birthday party. She smiled out at the camera, her dark chocolate hued hair adorned with cyan blue streaks, and her big silvery eyes just peeking out over the top of her sunglasses. She wasn't voluptuous, nor was she a short Lolita of a girl. She was skinny, on the tall side, and a bit of a tomboy. In the photo she was wearing an oversized T-shirt that she'd put on over her modest swim suit.

"She's worth over a million yen at least. Is she a virgin?" The men laughed and grabbed his phone, looking at the picture closer.

Tsukihisa-san rubbed his sweaty palms on his shirt, was he really using his daughter to pay off his debt? But his fear spoke for him, "She's never had a boyfriend."

"Doesn't mean she's still a virgin!" One of the men jabbed another jokingly. They looked at him, their leers sickening. "If she's a virgin than we'll write off a hundred million yen, your whole debt. We'll come by your house in a few weeks to collect. She'll become the little sister* of Yakuza." And with that they stood up, cleared up the game of poker and left him alone at the table, contemplating his sin. (*Little sister is a term used in fraternities as a girl who lives in the frat house and is essentially the frat's sex servant, often times gang raped.)

()

"Dad!" Kaiya looked up from her laptop when he walked through the door.

He winced upon hearing her voice and gave her a sheepish smile, "You shouldn't still be up."

"I was waiting for you. You've come home super late today." She slipped her headphones off, "So I stayed up to let you in, in case you forgot your keys again."

"Kaiya." He stepped heavily across the carpeted living room and sat down on the leather couch beside her, "We need to talk."

She lowered her laptop screen and turned so she sat facing him, her legs crossed, "Yep?"

"Are you a virgin?"

Her cheeks immediately went red and she shrieked and slapped his arm, "Wha-that's-I mean-eto…" She looked down at her lap, "I've never had a boyfriend, so yes. I guess we're having the sex talk right?"

"Oh? What? No! I assume you know all of that already, I mean, don't have sex without a condom and be safe, a baby could ruin your career, etc. You know the drill. I was just wondering, but I'm glad you're still my little girl." He ruffled her hair. Her bangs were a lot longer than the rest of her hair and hung down to her waist, while the rest of her hair stopped mid-back.

She batted his hand away, but then she started to twirl a lock of hair, "You don't have to worry about me doing that for a long time."

"I'm glad." His voice hitched, "But you should be getting to bed, it's past 1am."

Kaiya smiled, "Hai!" and snapping her laptop shut she leapt up the stairs, leaving her father alone. He groaned and leaned his head back, hating himself more and more.

()

A few weeks later, Kaiya was sitting in the sunroom, watching the sun slip below the horizon. Her father had been sitting up in his room for a long time and she hoped he wasn't drinking again. He'd been getting drunk more often lately and her bruises from the last time hadn't even started to fade yet. She winced and pulled her hand away from her shoulder which she'd absentmindedly reached up to stroke, remembering his last drunken episode.

Her father came shambling down the stairway, his hair a mess and still in a business shirt and slacks, his tie half undone and his eyes bleary. He moved disjointedly to the door and opened it up, answering in a woozy voice, "She's in the sunroom." And then, "Kaiya! We have some guests who want to meet you! Get over here!"

From her viewpoint she couldn't see the people at the door, so zipping her jacket up and repositioning the collar to hide her bruises, she reluctantly came to her father's side. The men at the door leered at her and they made her skin crawl. Something wasn't right, but before she could voice her concerns, one of the strangers grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him.

"Your daddy here says you're a virgin. Is it true? 'Cause if you are, his debts are paid and all you have to do is come live with us and be our house girl. We can't promise we'll be gentle though." They all burst into painfully loud laughter that felt like sandpaper in her ears.

"Dad? I don't get this. What are they doing here?" She looked helplessly around and then locked eyes with her father, "Who are they?"

"We're the Yakuza gang and your daddy owes us a lot of money." Their voices were too loud. "Didn't he tell you?" She wanted them to shut up and go away. "Has your daddy not told you that he traded you for his own life?" She was scared, her heart was racing and the pounding was now louder than their own boisterous voices. "You're gonna be a good little girl and come nicely, right?"

Her body reacted and she began to thrash like a trapped animal, suddenly adrenaline blinded her and instinct told her to escape. Someone cursed as she swiped her ragged fingernails across skin. A break in the mass of bodies was all she needed and she ducked through and ran. Her feet were bare and the asphalt slammed against them mercilessly. The thuds of the many shoes of her pursuers seemed to echo in the empty streets. She couldn't tell where she was going but it was away from them and their loud voices and rough hands. Fear made everything so vivid and sharp, every nerve sending her signals about her surroundings: the humid but chill air, the soft wind, the sharp air she was yanking into her lungs, the pointy little bits that made up the sidewalk cement…

"Hey!" Something hard banged her bruised shoulder and she cried out in surprise and pain. Her hands hit the ground and slid, the cement ripping off several layers of the skin on her palms, making them sting. A man with blond hair was also on the ground, having fallen after being hit by her, an old fashion video camera lay next to him. He was staring at her with concern, but her body was screaming for her to run. Everything was suddenly an imminent threat to her continued existence.

So she jumped up and ran, the feel of the ground became sharper and harder, she was now in an alley. A chain link fence cut in her stinging hands and she suddenly became aware of her surroundings again, her path was blocked.

And then someone grabbed her hand and yanked her in a different direction. The sounds of her pursuers fell behind them and was replaced by the faint buzzing of street lights. Her adrenaline rush was finally winding down and her legs slid out from under her. Someone managed to grab her before her whole body came crashing down. They said something soothingly and then scooped her up. Her head fell back, too heavy to hold up and the world dropped away.