Jerked into alertness, Shinjirou pushes himself off the wooden pillar he's been lazily leaning against for the past hours. He's one of the few slaves at this particular stand who sits with his legs apart, not caring to hide the bruises on his thighs, not interested in hiding that he's far from a virgin despite his age -- they sell much better, for a much higher price. His seller regards him with the same soured face as always when Shinjirou sits up straight, restraints clicking as he strains against their hold.

"You."

Should he even be surprised? Considering what he knows about Jade, maybe not, maybe that's the kind of place you should expect to meet a guy like him. On the other hand, what kind of unlikely coincidence is it that the two of them should meet again in a place like this? To happen upon Jade at some point in the future, at a bar or on the streets, somewhere ... sure. But now he's sitting here, as a cheap slave with little hope (on his kidnapper's part) that he's going to get sold at all, and Jade is a customer looking at the goods which he's a part of. No, he's never thought anything like this would happen.

Yet here they are. And once he's past the moment of surprise, he manages to frown. "Gotten sick of drunk one night stands?"