I thought I'd post this here, since it's lj in origin. Too late and in the wrong fandom, but a reply to the sunday100 challenge: "A man/woman is in the alley. She/He's bleeding."
- - -
There he is: a darker heap in the dimness of an alleyway, black hair splayed across the dirty cobbles. Lost in a foreign land, beaten by soldiers who think themselves men, for committing no crime against them. Tokyo is open to all, but the army that uses it is not so forgiving.
I kneel by his side, assessing the wounds with an experienced eye. He’ll live, and with a few well-placed stitches there won’t even be scars—outside—but explaining what happened to the people who care about him isn’t going to be easy. Especially when even I don’t understand.