It's been years since then, but I remember the day my father died as if it was just last week. They said it had been a car accident, well, as much as an "accident" as you could get when the Yakuza was involved. I knew my mother wasn't telling me everything when, between sobs, she forced out that Daddy was gone to all of us. Kokoa, who was hardly old enough to walk, broke out crying too, Kokoro ran off to her room and didn't come out, but I didn't feel anything. I just stared at the floor, not knowing what to think.

The day we buried him it was snowing, and I remember shivering as the flakes fell on my shoulders and through my hair. Kokoa's eyes were still red; she had barely stopped crying for a week. I was in my black dress, which was much too thin for the season anyways; it was the very same one he had chosen for me as a birthday present when I was nine, which I only had gotten to wear twice. It was the only thing I got that year, but he was sure proud of it. Mom had taken hours to style my hair perfectly straight, brushing it so much she almost pulled it out of my head, making sure the hair ribbons were on in just the right place, ironing my gloves diligently and fluffing out my scarf and throw, even powdering my face and putting her lipstick on me for the first time. I'm sure he would have said I looked like a princess if he was there. But he wasn't, because he was the one whose ashes were going in the ground.

Over to the right there were a large grouping of men in suits; scary-looking, but they weren't saying anything either, just bowing their heads as the snow fell and the priest blessed the grave. They were Dad's friends, or what he called them anyways. Even when I was little I had enough sense to know they weren't just that. They frightened me when I first saw them, but they were always nice to me. I just never got that. Gangsters were supposed to be bad people, right? But they weren't. The one I remember the most was Mr. Akabayashi. I have no idea how I've managed to remember his name when I haven't seen him in so long, but he had a scar over his right eye and even for a Yakuza looked absolutely terrifying. But whenever he came over to drink with Daddy he always had my favorite kind of candy, those strawberry ones with the cream in the center. I forget what they're called, but I still love those. He would usually bring me something from Akibahara, too, something with Morning Musume or AKB48 or Sakura Gakuin on it. He knew I wanted to be one of them when I got older. I mean looking at it now, I'm not sure how someone who looked like him managed to get into an idol store without getting questioned about what he was doing there by security, but I didn't know that back then. I thought everyone liked idols and it was just normal to drop what you were doing and go get the latest album from MomoClo or whoever. Of course, that was when I was little and talked about nothing but idols nonstop. My parents probably honestly thought it was annoying, at least until Kokoro was born and I started forcing her to play dressup and do idol stuff with me instead of pestering them. They never complained once though. My dad always said that someday the whole world would know my name.

Well, maybe he wasn't wrong after all. But I don't want my name in the newspapers tomorrow. It'll be hard enough as it is.

That was before my mom stopped eating, before she stopped working, before our money slowly started to run out. We had no life insurance, no nothing, and all she would do was lie in bed and stare out the window. She wanted to be with him, I could tell. We were all strangers to her: her own children and she didn't even care about us anymore, and I, a middle schooler, had to take care of everyone as best I could. I would go buy food and other things we needed, but sooner or later there just wasn't enough. There were bills piling up on the back table. Our electricity stopped working. Our water stopped running. I remember Kokoa being sick and crying because her ear infection or stomach virus hurt her so bad, but we couldn't afford medicine and all my mom did was sit in the bed and stare out the window. She was almost a skeleton now; gaunt and hardly ate what I brought her every day. She wouldn't speak. She looked twenty years older.

The day I decided enough was enough was when Kotaro showed up at our door. Apparently my alcoholic uncle and aunt had him in the time I had been busy trying to keep us afloat, and when he had hit her one too many times and she hit him back on the head with a frying pan Child Services took him away from them and dumped the baby with his next of kin, meaning my mother. They hadn't even bothered to come inside or check on us, they just left him. We couldn't feed another mouth.

Whatever we needed, I was going to get. I didn't care how I did it anymore. And somehow…I found a way. I realized that being desirable would get you somewhere. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't stupid. I knew middle school girls weren't supposed to be cleaning dishes at some seedy pub, or advertise for a hostess bar, or go on dates with thirty-year-old men. But it got me what I needed. It got me money. No…it got us money. Kokoro, Kokoa, Kotaro…they had enough to eat now. Our bank account was back to being stable. For the first time in at least a year, if not two, my siblings were happy. But not my mother, who was still just staring out the window.

I barely got any sleep back then. I would wake up at about 5, put on breakfast after I got dressed and did my hair, and by the time I had to almost pick up and throw Kokoro in order to get her out of bed, I was completely ready to go to school. Not that I really wanted to, but that was beside the point. Then I'd give Kotaro his bottle, make sure Kokoro and Kokoa could both get ready without fighting over anything in the bathroom, make sure Kotaro was asleep in the crib, then walk them both to elementary school, smiling and looking happy, and when their teacher asked me where their mother was I would lie again and say she was already at work, just like the day before and the day before and so on.

Then, I would go to school as normal. There would most likely be another slur or insult scrawled into my desk. I knew this would happen as soon as I started getting myself into shady stuff. Someone who knew me would see me, but I didn't care. I needed the money far more than I needed people to like me. I never really had very many friends anyways.

Sometimes I would fake being sick to leave early, or just not go at all. The counselor and teachers really didn't care, and I was a good enough student to avoid any questioning. Not that they would have cared if I came in with a black eye and a bloody nose every single day. They never bothered enough to do anything to find whoever was carving "die" and "slut" on my desk. I never found out myself.

That was my final year before I went to high school. Sure, I had enough for my family, but I wasn't sure it was enough to pay for tuition, and I would probably get found out by the teachers if I continued to do what I was doing. But by then I'd be old enough to work legitimately. Maybe it would all work out.

I still wanted to become an idol, but there was almost no chance of it now. But I could still dream, I guess. When I skipped, sometimes I would go to bookstores and read up on vocal theory and other stuff like that, and I would practice at home after I picked up my little sisters, in between getting them to do their homework and stuff like that.

I even started researching the best high schools for musical students, but most of them were either too far away or too expensive. But there were two I found that actually could be feasible: Otonokizaka Girls' Private Academy in north Chiyoda, and Utagahama Technical and Artistic Institute near Akiba. Both were a fifteen-minute train ride from me, sure, but the first was a stately old school that had produced several world-renowned musicians, singers, actors…it had everything I wanted. And every year, even though it was a rich girls' school, it offered a complete scholarship on the basis of talent to those who submitted a paper or recording of them performing. The second was a cutting-edge school in the highest level of an office building that had a nationally ranked music program, but since it was funded by several of the biggest businesses in Japan, everyone who went there paid almost nothing. The only downside was that it only accepted a certain number every year, and there were always more applicants than spots available, so I would have to go into a lottery. But still, if I could somehow get into either of them, maybe, possibly, I could actually be something that I wanted. Maybe.

Two weeks after I had submitted my application for the UTX lottery, I recorded a video of myself singing in my bedroom to send to Otonokizaka. I had selected the character Eliza's solo from My Fair Lady…honestly, I'd only seen the musical once and I'm not very good at English, but I practiced pronunciations and breathing on that thing for weeks. And really, the character who sang it honestly reminded me of myself. My little sisters would make fun of me for practicing alone and Kokoa sometimes said I sounded like an angry cat, but I knew they were just teasing so I didn't really care. With enough practice, maybe I would sound decent despite never taking a vocal class in my life.

The day I recorded it was in November; I remember it was getting close to Christmastime and there were starting to be snowflakes and ice pellets falling with the rain on occasion. That was the wettest winter I'd honestly ever lived. I couldn't even go outside to get the mail without finding out the entire road had iced over and sliding three meters on it. That year, the kotatsu came out about a month ahead of schedule. Kokoro did nothing but stay under there…she looked like an Eskimo.

In late December, just a couple days before New Years', UTX sent me back their decision. I hadn't gotten in. I didn't cry or anything like that; the head of the house shouldn't do that. Still, I didn't hide it very well. Kokoro immediately knew that night when I was making dinner.

At least I still had Otonokizaka. But if I didn't get that, I didn't know what I would do.

Five days later, the letter came in the mail, and as soon as I looked at it, it took all my willpower to stop me from screaming.

I had gotten one of the scholarships. I could try to become an idol after all.

Kokoro and Kokoa weren't home from school yet, so the only person I could tell would be my mom. When I went in her room, she was just staring out the window as usual.

When I told her, she said nothing. She didn't even look at me. All she did was mumble my dad's name.

That was when I lost it.

I'm not saying I was in the right. I wasn't. But after everything I'd done…yeah. You could see why I might have been mad. Or maybe not. Whatever.

I basically screamed at her that he wasn't coming back and while she'd been sitting in there wasting away, I'd been doing everything she was supposed to do. That Kokoa barely had any memories of her having a mother because of her, and everything I'd had to do just so we could all stay together. I'd worked so hard in between taking care of everyone and going to school to get into Otonokizaka and she didn't even care. I was so proud of it and she just didn't care. I called her scum. And when I turned 20, I was taking my siblings and getting out of there.

Her eyes had gone wide in her pale, sunken face, and she had turned to me with a look of shock, and she had opened her mouth like she wanted to say something but she couldn't. I just threw the letter at her and slammed the door on the way out.

Takes scum to know scum, doesn't it?

The next day would have been just like any other, except that she got up.

I was just making the rice like normal, when my mother shuffled to the table in her light blue bathrobe and slippers, and sat down. I was honestly shocked for a second. She looked like a skeleton and she didn't say a word, but somehow…I had gotten through.

Kokoro was absentmindedly leaving the shower, yawning and asking me what was for breakfast, when she saw Mom sitting there. She stopped for a second, her mouth dropped open, and then she ran and hugged her tightly. It was the happiest I'd seen her in years. I nearly had to pull her off because my mom was so weak I worried she'd get hurt.

She started to eat more. She started to speak to us again. The next week I took her to the doctor. She could hardly walk, but leaning on me she got there. He asked me just what had happened to her and all I could say was that my dad had died. He gave her some medicine. We didn't have insurance, but it was cheap without it.

Two months after I yelled at her, I woke up to find that she had already started cooking breakfast without me. It was even better than I remembered, and she smiled at me. Another month passed and she started getting dressed and leaving in the mornings. In a week, she had found a job as a night shift secretary. Sure, it wasn't extremely high paying, and she wouldn't be home until late so I still had to take care of the house and errands, but I didn't have to do anything like I had done anymore. I was so happy.

My first day of high school, I was so excited I hardly slept. I put on my uniform, tied the bow, and ate my breakfast in about 30 seconds flat. My mom brushed my hair, tied the ribbons in them, and hugged me before I left, and so did Kokoro and Kokoa. I walked to the train station alone for the first time in my life. I had never seen so many people there; Ikebukuro station usually is only crowded in the morning. As soon as I got off at Kanda station and saw the building, I nearly ran to it.

Everyone looked so cool and high-class when I entered, and then there was me, a poor girl who somehow managed to get in.

I thought my nervousness had doomed me during introductions. I actually blurted out that I wanted to be Love Idol Nico-chan, nico-nico-nii during them, and half the class laughed. I slunk down in my seat all day after that, completely ashamed. My dad had taught me that…he said it was my idol catchphrase. Barely an hour, and I had already made a fool of myself. They all probably thought I was as immature as I looked.

That was before I was getting ready to leave, and a girl came up and said hi to me. She said she thought I was funny. I mean, sure, I'd take that. If she thought I did it on purpose, fine. I'm good at pretending I meant to do something.

Then she saw the AKB keychain on my backpack, and immediately went starry eyed and started on a big long spiel about how she loved them and she had all their albums and she had even been backstage at a concert and gotten Kojiharu's autograph. Lucky.

My first real friend's name was Mika, and my second one was her friend Natsu, who she dragged into hanging out with us like it or not. Mika was the energetic one and Natsu was the shy one…they were perfect for each other. Slowly, I began to come out of my shell around them. We did everything together. I guess I acted like a kid around them because I had never really been a kid. Better late than never.

It was an out of the blue thought, but one day as we were walking home from school, getting a coffee or going to the arcade or something…I don't even remember…I asked them if they wanted to be idols.

The next day, the Idol Research Club was formed. We stayed after school for hours, practicing, having so much fun. Maybe we would be the first schoolgirl idol group to get a record deal or something. Our debut was fast approaching, and we were still trying to plan what we would do.

Then, one day, no one showed up after school.

I found out that Mika had transferred without telling me. Natsu told me that Mika had pushed her into it and she didn't want to be an idol anymore. She wouldn't talk to me after that.

Suddenly, everything I had was gone.

Life doesn't allow me to be happy. Just when I think I finally have what I've wanted for so long, I get smacked back to reality, every time worse than the last.

I'm standing at the corner of two roads in Ikebukuro, where the train tracks cross. All the lights are off, the stores are closed and everyone has gone home. There's no one here anymore this late. Better for me.

I hear a rumble far off to the left. The last train of the day is coming. Yamanote line, 1:15 am. It's so dark outside and there's a blind curve…the driver won't even see me until it's too late.

I left a goodbye note under my pillow for Kokoro and Kokoa. They have my mom back now…they don't need me anymore.

The world doesn't need me anymore. I'm worthless. I worked so hard to prove that wrong, but I knew it all along. I just didn't want to admit it.

I see the lights start to peer around the corner. This is it. In just a second, it'll be all over.

Maybe in my next life I can be less of a failure.

All I have to do is just take one step forward.

Suddenly, I hear the sound of footsteps pounding hard on the pavement behind me, and I turn.

I can barely see the figure in the shadow, but whoever it is has eyes red and glowing like a demon and I see the shape of a sword swinging down toward me.

Out of pure instinct, I throw up my hands and the sword slices into my palms. It feels like I'm being burned. I bite my lip hard, and can feel blood welling up from it.

The man, who I can see better now, is trying to push the sword downwards with a crazed expression. He looks like he's on drugs. I've still got the blade of the sword grabbed in my hands, but it's starting to slick up and I don't know how much longer I can fight him off. He's twice my size. Even though I'm pushing with all the force I can, he's just knocking me back like it's nothing.

The sound of wheels roars onto the track, and I hear the warning signal start to sound from behind me. The train is almost here.

If I don't do something, he's going to kill me.

What even is this guy? His eyes are glowing red and he's growling like an animal.

Am I seeing something that I shouldn't have?

I struggle to gain a grip on the concrete, but my shoes are still sliding backwards. The pain from my hands is almost unbearable. We're almost on the tracks now. I hear the train whistle start to blow. The conductor is probably scared out of his mind.

My wet hands slip, and he pries the sword free from my grasp. Almost in slow motion, I begin to see him swing it downwards. This is a fitting end for me. Heh…I couldn't even die like I wanted to.

Out of instinct, I duck and the powerful swing sends him flying over my head and suddenly, I'm off my feet. Then, nothing.

My head's throbbing. As I slowly open my eyes, I realize I'm lying faceup on the ground. I slowly pull my head up and immediately turn it away. My whole body is bending in positions I didn't think were possible. I begin to realize I can't move my legs anymore.

As I cast my gaze away, to the left of me a katana, coated with blood (most of it is mine, probably), is lying near me. It looks ancient. I don't care what it is, maybe I can use it to support myself or dig myself out of rubble or whatever.

I reach for it, and as soon as I grasp the handle, a bright red light begins to fill my vision and I gasp. My body is contorting with all sorts of unbearable pain.

A deep male voice, almost demonic, echoes in my head. Do you love?

Then comes one more voice in my head, then another, then another, all forming a hellish chorus, repeating Love, love, love over and over.

It isn't long before I black out again.

When I come to, I'm in a hospital bed, the ventilator pulled over my face. Slowly, I try to wiggle my fingers, then I realize I can move all of my right arm no problem. I sit up and stare for a second. I look like nothing's happened to me, and I feel fine. Hesitantly, I check my palms. There's no sign of a deep cut on either of them.

My heart starts to beat faster. There's absolutely no trace of what just happened. Did I dream that whole thing?

Near me I hear a nurse call out, "Doctor! She's awake!"

The doctor runs in. He's a small, mousy old man with a nervous tic. He looks me up and down, to which I immediately back up. I don't like it when people are too close.

He mumbles softly to himself, but I can still make out most of it. "She was in critical…how…this shouldn't be possible…"

"Uh, excuse me," I say, clutching my knees to my chest, "but can you tell me just what the hell is going on?"

The doctor looks taken aback…I bet he didn't expect that to come out of the mouth of someone who looks like she's 12. I hate that. My growth spurt may still happen in the future, but as of now there are elementary schoolers the same size as me, and with bigger chests. It's embarrassing. Goddammit, genetics.

"Well…" he begins. "Ms. Yazawa, is it? From what I heard from the ambulance that found you, someone was trying to mug you, you resisted, and you both fell in front of an oncoming train. The man was killed on the spot. You, on the other hand…you were comatose when we found you, but you're awake now…you're incredibly lucky. You shouldn't be out this late alone."

Yeah, yeah, I'm sure I should always be walking with friends whenever I'm out this late. Except I don't have friends, and I never go out late in the first place. I'm 100 percent fine, but they're probably gonna keep me in here for a week or more.

"Can I just go home?" I ask.

I'm not sure why I lived. Maybe it's a sign that I need to. Or just a coincidence. Needless to say, I'm holding off for a while. It feels like I have to do something.

"Well, about that…" he adjusts his glasses. "No. We can't discharge you, but your family is here."

I don't want there to be a scene, but looks like I don't have a choice.

The door opens and Kokoa runs in first, bawling, and tries to hug me, but she can't reach over the bed. Kokoro is hiding behind Mom who's carrying Kotaro, who's fast asleep.

My youngest sister can barely pronounce anything. "Onee-chwan! Mama shaid you wewuh huwt!"

I reach out to pat her on the head. "I'm fine."

My mom and Kokoro aren't crying like Kokoa, but Kokoro is sniffling and my mom's eyes are red. What did they get told? Did the hospital tell them I was about to die? I'm fine. I feel great. I could go run a marathon tomorrow. Actually, I probably would pass out after the first few kilometers. That's not a bad thing, okay? I'm just out of shape. Nothing wrong with that. It's not like I have terminal cancer!

Okay, bad analogy. But still, I didn't feel like anything had happened to me.

And the attention did not please me. Imagine if it was a slow news day tomorrow. I can just see the headlines: "IKEBUKURO GIRL STRUCK BY TRAIN, DEBATE ON PUBLIC SAFETY STARTED". And when I become the number one idol in the universe, I'm not gonna like it if people see me and ask, "Hey, weren't you that kid who got hit by a train and lived?"

Number one idol in the universe? Huh. I just came up with that one on the fly. I like it. I think I'll keep it.

My mom looks relieved now that I've demonstrated I can move around a bit. After a few minutes talking to them and reassuring them I'm all right, the doctor asks them to leave so he can bring in the next visitor. I have no idea who that would be. I mean, only my family cares about me.

I look up to see an imposing face with a scar over the right eye looking straight at me. I recognize him instantly from my childhood.

"Akabayashi-san?"

He looks down at me, confused, and then it's as if a lightbulb goes off above his head. He exhales out slowly. "You're Koji's little girl…shit. The last person I had expected to see was you."

"What do you want from me anyways?" I ask, not even bothering to look up. "And how did you find me?"

"I got a tip from an…informant." He pauses to scratch his head. "Told me Saika's got a new host…and it's you."

"What's Saika?" I'm lost.

"I don't really know either. The guy who attacked you? The informant said since he's dead, his sword's now yours."

Yeah, right. As if there was a bigger bit of BS I'd ever heard. Hate to tell you, but this isn't some bad teen novel. Yeah, there was a sword involved. That's about the point where your story and mine's similarities end. It doesn't have a name or anything. I don't even know what it was and I have no desire to find out. That guy swung it at me, I used it to drag myself out or something, and when I passed out again the police probably found it and confiscated it. There was no way the doctors here could have missed me having a dangerous weapon, of all things, on me when they took me in.

"I don't really think that's correct."

Akabayashi sighs. "The informant told me, just think about Saika and you can wield it."

"Fine," I sigh back. "I'll oblige." I have nothing better to do while I'm laid up here, right?

I close my eyes and think about what happened just a few hours ago. I'm still not convinced it wasn't just a crazy dream I had when I was food poisoned or something. The man and his growls and glowing red eyes…sheesh. That's almost like a cheap 80s horror movie you can get at the video store for two hundred yen.

Suddenly, there's a sharp pain in my head. Did they put me on painkillers and it wore off or something? No, it seems like something's whispering or I can hear the wind blowing or something. It's getting louder. I recognize it now. It's the voice I heard right before I passed out. Immediately, I tense, but try as I might I can't open my eyes and pull myself out of this state. It's like I've gone into a trance.

Love, love, love says the voice. Do you love?

Who are you? I say back. Technically think back. I know, semantics. Bet you've never made a mistake writing either, right? This isn't my job. Chill out.

I love so I cut, the voice says. Do you want to cut?

Whoever you are, just tell me, I think.

I am love, the voice replies. You are interesting. You do not love.

A bright red light floods my vision, and I snap back to reality. Immediately, my eyes get wide. My midsection is emitting a red glow, and there's a handle pushing its way through it. It's a sword. It's the same one I saw.

I hesitate. If I try to pull it out, will I become like that guy? Crazy like a rabid dog?

What the hell. Why am I acting normal all of the sudden? It wouldn't matter to me anyways. No matter what I do, if I go insane, if I murder, if I die…it's meaningless. No, I'm meaningless.

I grasp the handle and pull, half expecting to start going on a rampage and stabbing everyone within the nearest kilometer. But nothing happens. It's a long, sharp steel blade, but it's just hanging limply at my side. I pull it up to inspect it. Nothing about it suggests it makes you crazy, or comes out of your body. It just looks like something you'd see in a museum exhibit hanging on the wall surrounded with placards about the Shinsengumi or the Civil War or the shogunate.

Wait, how do I put it away again?

It came out of my body, so to put it away, I'd have to…push it back in…

The rational part of me tells me stop, what if you miss and hurt yourself. I brush it off. I'm already in the hospital.

I press the blade to my midsection and slowly push. It starts to disappear little by little, but I feel absolutely no pain. A length of the sword has gone in that it should be going out the other side, but there's nothing poking out of my back. Then, it's all gone. It's like it never existed.

"Do you believe me now?" Akabayashi says.

"I don't really know what to think." That's the truth. I'm not one of those people who freaks and goes neurotic when something happens she can't comprehend. I just blank.

"Listen, there are tons of gangs crawling around in the city, and this informant guy…I can't tell him much about you because he'll track me down sure as the sun rises, but he's probably told every single one about you. You're in danger, and so is everyone close to you. There's a war coming…I just know it, and you're a target." He pauses. "Dammit, I can't smoke in here. Fuck. I need one. What I was saying, this informant stirs the pot, but…when you were little, I promised your dad I'd protect you. The Awakusu-kai will take you in if you let us. We'll keep you and your family safe."

I shrug. "What's in it for me?"

I know I promised not to ever go back to what I was doing before. But…I don't want anything to ever happen to them. Mom, my sisters…if what Akabayashi was saying before was right, they could die tomorrow, and it would be my fault. My life isn't worth anything anymore…but theirs is. They all have hopes and dreams, and again I'm making it worse for everyone around me. Just because of me.

"As much money, clothes, technology as you want."

"I don't need anything. My family does. Just make sure Mom and my little sisters and little brother have enough to get by. And don't tell anyone about this. Just so they can be normal."

He replies instantly, "Your dad died in the line of duty." So, that confirms what I knew all along. "The boss is gonna be more than happy to help your family out. So long as you help us. Deal?"

Something inside me tells me I've made the wrong decision. Something else inside me also tells me I did a good thing. I don't know what to think anymore.

"Sure, why not?" Then, I flop over and try to get back to sleep.

It's been two years since then. In a few days, I'll be starting my final year of school. It seems pretty strange, that the seasons passed and nothing really seemed to change for me. Just boredom. Every day I sat by myself in that club room, waiting for the day when someone would walk in, but in time I just accepted I was basically a ghost. No one really knew the idol research club, or me in general existed anymore.

I guess that's what it's like to be me. I honestly don't feel loneliness. I just need something interesting to…change me. I think. I don't know.

Sure, the Awakusu are nice to me, but it's because of my dad, and I'm just another chess piece for the bosses to push around. I realized that as soon as I agreed to join them. But…it means Mom and Kokoro and Kokoa and Kotaro will be safe, and that's really what matters. I've been doing this for as long as I know. Maybe I've grown up too fast. I don't care. Someday I'll make sure they escape Dad's life. Even if it means I'm forced into it.

Akabayashi trained me with the sword. The first time I attempted to fight him, he floored me with only a wooden trainer. Saika gives me stamina and strength, but not skill. I have to learn how to use it myself. At first, it was just defending myself from the dozens of groups in the underworld who would inevitably hunt me, but as I trained and I trained until I was dripping sweat and exhausted and I ached all over every day, I learned more than that. I learned how to strike, how to overpower, how to kill. I still had my family to attend to, so I had barely any free time. But it was worth it. They were probably at risk too, from the Blue Squares and the Yellow Scarves and the Mafiya and the Tigers…I'd heard all those names from our members in passing, and I knew a lot of violence was going on, but I didn't see any of it. That's probably because I was always under tight security. While the standard Awakusu goon was beating a thug in a back alley, I was locked and guarded at the dojo, knocking dummies over with trainers. The boss was interested in what I was doing and came down to watch me some…why wouldn't he be? I already picked up on what he wanted me to do.

It wasn't just him. Whenever I held Saika I would always feel this pressure, just like this red rage that pulsed somewhere inside of me and the slightest misstep would set it off. I wondered why I hadn't become like that crazy guy yet. At times, Saika moved on its own with me just hanging onto it. And sometimes, I would hear those echoes pounding in the back of my head, Love, love, love. Cut, cut, cut.

I promised myself I'd never use it, and always keep it away. A day later, I was standing over the dead body of a man who had drawn the ire of the yakuza one way or another on the boss's orders. I didn't feel sorry for him, or myself for that matter. I just felt nothing.

Money is a powerful motivator, isn't it? No, it wasn't really that. I didn't need anything. But my family…all of them…I would do anything to protect them. Including kill. And I did. Over and over again. And true to their word, the Awakusu helped my family. They have honor, however warped it may be.

I wonder if Dad ever killed anyone. Maybe. I was too young to know.

While the gang war reached its peak, I just carried out orders. I slowly created a fake self, the sort of bitchy, airheaded high schooler. No one expects the little girl next to them to cut their throat until it's too late.

With every job I did, I knew Saika wanted me to do more. I would fill it hum and excite, but I controlled it. I'm not going to be like that guy was. I'm only doing this for my family.

The gang war's mostly died out now. I heard the cops busted a lot of both the Blue Squares and the Yellow Scarves and they both disbanded. For a while, I get to be normal.

I'm sitting in the basement of the Awakusu office. It smells like stale smoke and a lot of men without deodorant. After a while, you tune out the smell, just like the sound of the gang members talking and laughing while playing pool behind me. I'm just browsing the news on my phone. The next Love Live is coming up…Lantis's competition to find the best high school-age amateur idol group in Japan. This year will be my last chance to enter, but I've long since given up on it. Ever since that day when Mika and Natsu left, I've accepted I don't have a chance at entering. Sometimes, when I see all of them performing and having fun, I get jealous, but I realize I never had a chance. Does an idol do what I do? No, of course not. Criminals do this. Irredeemable, unforgivable people do this. Mistakes do this.

UTX, which turned me down, had a group of 3 called A-RISE that won two years in a row and really put the contest on the map. Beforehand, it was a small talent contest mainly held on the internet with a lot of shitty groups. Of course, a lot of them now are still pretty bad, but not as much as before and the bad ones are still funny to watch. The rules are you have to write, compose, and choreograph yourself. Not a lot of girls my age are good at that, or singing and dancing in the first place. But A-RISE…they're actually good. Like, really good. They could have gone pro and competed with AKB and Morning Musume, but they chose to stay in the Love Live. It's their last year in it, too. Maybe it has sentimental value.

Because of them, the finals are in the Kokugikan now and drew a full house last year. That's insane. 13,000 people turning out to see an amateur act, and one that got famous by promoting themselves. It could have been me. Who am I kidding? No it couldn't. A-RISE stayed together. I couldn't even get my friends to stay with me.

I hear Kohei screech about missing the 10-ball behind me. Honestly, that guy is stupid, and I say that being not the brightest myself. I know you think from this that I'm smart. I'm just good at writing.

A large shadow is blocking my field of view. I look up. Akabayashi is standing over me. Must be a new job.

"Can this wait?" I ask. "A-RISE has already put out a video for this year's Love Live. I want to watch it."

His eyebrows raise. "They have? They're just a bunch of teenagers…I still don't know how they make such professional music. I would have bought their debut album too, but Lantis kicked it back again…those bureaucrats at the labels are such pains in the ass."

"They make good music because they're good at it," I reply. "Not much more to it."

"Makes me think of you when you were little," he says. "How your dad taught you that thing…um…smile, I think?"

"Yeah," I say absentmindedly. That was a long time ago.

"Anyways," he grunts, scratching at the scar on his eye. He's never told me how he got it. Probably never will. "New job for you. You know the Baptist Hospital?"

"Yeah, that's the big one in Setagaya."

He holds up a picture of a dour-looking spectacled man. "This is its chairman, Dr. Soichiro Nishikino."

Come to think of it, I recognize the guy. "Isn't he running for city council? I thought I saw an ad of his on TV."

"Yeah," Akabayashi replies. "We got information from a certain…information broker…" I instantly know who he's talking about. Anyone who spends longer than a day in the Tokyo underworld knows about him. Izaya Orihara, the most powerful man in the city. I've never met him in person, but most haven't. Some say he sells info to every side just for fun. I wouldn't be surprised.

"...he's been talking to Yagiri Pharmaceuticals about human testing. The same ones that are running that kidnapping ring."

He holds up another picture. It's a girl who looks about my age. Even just from the photo, I can tell she's pretty. She has the classic aristocratic high cheekbones, long face, and wide eyes that are just stunning to look at.

"This is his only daughter, Maki. She's fifteen. She'll actually be going to your school starting this year." She's older than me? Really? My growth spurt better be coming soon.

"What we need you to do," he continues, "is give those amateurs a lesson on how to kidnap. You take her and we hold her hostage until he and Yagiri get the hell off our turf, and of course a little money wouldn't hurt."

"How much?"

"Twenty thousand up front and fifteen percent of what we get from Nishikino."

"Deal. I'll have her here by tonight." We could afford so much from that…maybe I could even use some of the money for myself for once. Uniqlo is about to bring out their new summer clothing and I've been dying to check it out.

Maybe. We'll see, I guess. I hope it goes without too much fuss.

Eight hours later, I'm standing in the darkened front hall of a luxurious Western-style house in Azabu. It's huge, bigger than any I've ever been in. I can't believe only three people live here. You could probably fit three of our entire house in here.

Making it in the front door wasn't too much of an issue. Locks are relatively easy to pick, and for a rich family there wasn't much security.

Slowly, I creep down the hall to the stairs. There's a grand piano in the living room. A full size grand piano. Probably costs more than we make in a year.

I take care not to make any noise as I slowly climb the shag carpeted stairs. It's so soft. I wish we had this at home…I would roll around in it all day. I don't know what I really expected from a rich family. Looks like they don't have any maids or anything. I would have expected a whole bunch.

Wait, what am I doing? My target's upstairs.

As I go, a stair suddenly creaks. I immediately stop and hold my breath. I hear groans coming from my right. Slowly, they die out. I then make my way up the stairs until I reach the top, staying close to the wall.

To the right, in blackness, must be the master bedroom. I can hear a man snoring. That must be the doctor we're extorting. I could care less. I'm just going to get the target and get out.

I creep down the hallway. There's a door open just a crack, and after a second I can hear the sound of soft breathing. I open it slightly and slip in without a sound. The moonlight that just barely peeks through the curtains is playing across the face of a girl that lies there asleep, her head rolled to her left side. Even in this state she's beautiful. I think it's the first time I've ever seen someone like her up close.

A loud whistle immediately sounds from far off. I freeze. It's 2 am and the last train is coming. I had completely forgotten…I crossed tracks to get here, but I thought it was another line. It's the Ginza train. Those stay until late at night.

Slowly, the long breathing ceases and she begins to stir. Her eyes flutter open. They're violet. I don't even have time to think…I duck, lying completely prone on the floor. It's so dark I can blend in. I just have to wait until she goes back to sleep.

But she doesn't. She starts to sit up, and instantly clicks on her light. Then, she looks down. Her eyes widen in shock, like it takes her a few seconds to register it.

I'm on her before she can even react. She clearly has no self-defense experience. Twice my size and she just went down like that. She's struggling, though. I have her arm behind her back and my hand over her mouth, but she's kicking and flailing. I feel Saika start to stir in me. Love, cut, love, cut. No. I do not love her. I do not want to cut her.

She's using her momentum to take me over into the wall. Damn it. She still has the size advantage. She's not getting out of this, but she's sure making it hard.

As she pushes me into the wall, I hear a picture drop and glass shatter. Out of surprise, I let up a little bit and she manages to push past the hand over her mouth and scream loudly. Within five seconds, a light switches on to the right and I hear footsteps pounding outside. It's over. For the first time, I've failed.

By the time the door flies open, I've already thrown myself through the window and ran. I don't stop. I keep running, running, running until I'm completely out of breath, gasping, hands on my knees, and there's no one around me anymore.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

This is a story idea that's been floating around in my head for a long time…I love Ryougo Narita's way of writing so I thought it would be cool to bring a certain group of idols into the mix. Given as they are pretty close, I consider it likely that maybe in a reality where both the denizens of Ikebukuro and Otonokizaka exist together, there may be a little crossover…

Part of the reason I made this is because I just love crossovers, and big, multi-character, dynamic urban fantasy. Nico may be the "main character" per se (because I 3 her) but she's not the only one who will get spots to tell the story, as plenty from both franchises will have their chapters. This story is founded on a simple premise. What if the one who Saika chose, but overcame it wasn't Anri Sonohara, but Nico Yazawa? As you'll see, I think it would throw the events surrounding Ikebukuro completely off the rails…

There may be some date issues. I usually place a series' date as the time the original work started, and given that Durarara first published the books in the early 2000s, it's nearly a decade older than Love Live (started 2013). Given, however, that the DRRR anime explicitly dated itself to 2010, the date when it aired, and the first CGI Love Live music video released around that time, the anime continuity and Love Live could exist on the same plain. Given that this is an AU anyways with copious amounts of headcanon, dates aren't really a big deal…I'm just extremely autistic about getting the most correct "current year" timeline possible.

Nico's expanded backstory is mostly my headcanon…I may have made it a little bit too dark and edgy, though. All that's said in canon is that Nico has three siblings, her dad is dead and her family's not very well-off. I came up with the idea of her father being a Yakuza, and her family most likely comes from Burakumin, which were the lowest caste in Japan during feudal times, basically equivalent to the Vedic untouchables. Many of them ended up in crime because there was just no other way for them to support themselves and their families (family ties are very important to them). Even though Buraku is not an official designation in Japan today, their descendants are still seen as the equivalent of white trash or "ghetto hoodlums", and are often prejudiced against. Obviously, Nico and her family prefer to hide their ancestry. As for Maki, the only thing stated in canon was that her parents were doctors that ran a hospital, which makes them perfect candidates to know about Yagiri and Nebula, and she's rich. Since hospitals in Japan have to be nonprofit (which in practice about 95% of the time means either university or religious organization) I decided to go with making it a Christian hospital since they commonly run them (at least 50 in Tokyo alone) and that religion is disproportionately represented among the upper class. I'm not sure if Maki and her family are actually Baptists or if they just run a hospital affiliated with them, but honestly it doesn't matter much as it's not really a big deal for this story. I just like filling in gaps. As for her family, a rare three-kanji surname (I'm not even sure if it exists in real life) seems to point to an old-money nobility family, but who knows. Maybe her ancestors were some peasant who got rich and gave himself and his descendants an ostentatious name.

Some things to know: Japanese social services are notoriously incompetent, which explains why they just gave Kotaro over to his aunt's family despite not even bothering to check if they could raise a child. If she had lived in the US or another Western country, the kids would have been taken away from the mother and put in foster care, which only happens in Japan if it's extremely serious. Having to get the government involved in family affairs is extremely shameful to all members of the family, which explains why social services kept away from the Yazawas and why Nico did not go to them…it would be a black mark on her and all of her family for most likely the rest of their lives. This attitude also means that with no one in their extended family to help them, without Nico risking so much by doing immoral things like compensated dating and working at an illegal age (the minimum age to work in Japan is 15, and obviously only a pretty seedy place would hire strange 13- and 14-year-olds, and having a job after school is prohibited by most Japanese schools and can get you disciplined severely), her family might have actually starved to death with no income to live. Such incidents are extremely sad but have occurred in the past, unfortunately.

Onto a much lighter note, Lantis is the record company that actually created the Love Live series, and the Ryogoku Kokugikan is an indoor stadium in Tokyo that frequently hosts concerts and sports events. Since the Love Live by this point is popular but putting the finals in the Tokyo Dome is still too risky, the Kokugikan is the next best thing aside for the Nippon Budokan (which is too highly regarded a concert venue to justify hosting a bunch of unproven amateurs).

This story's taken a long time to think and write, but I hope it's well worth it. See you soon!

-mrcmc888