"She's very cute, but maybe Daddy's biased," the man chuckled, relaxed as ever.

The woman beside him smiled weakly.

"Heh, she looks just like you."

Karako strained to hold back the hurt on her face as she stared at the silver object in her hands. Nagi had mentioned before that he had a daughter outside Deadman Wonderland. The kid would be almost six now. But she didn't know that it was like this.

There was no 'baby picture' in his late wife's locket. Just dust and the dull shine that rimmed the inside of the keepsake. But when her eyes locked onto his, they were still met with a hopeful glint. Nagi knew fully well that he was chasing a dream by its tail and into a dangerous place, that much she knew for certain. Yet, what was this feeling, this aura emanating from him? Call it corny or whatever else, but it was. A rare trust in a labyrinth built on paranoia and hopelessness.

Now that Karako knew why he kept fighting she knew that she had to be there. She had to make sure that he never lost that light. After all, she knew all about what happened to him in that Carnival Corpse match. She truly loved him, but still respected his being a widower enough not to show it too much. After all, even as cold as she had been at the time, watching that man break down with a corpse in his arms was enough to make evenher cringe. She knew he would never forget his wife as long as he lived, or their "daughter". In a twisted way, she really did admire his pursuit of that ghost of a child. Even when reaching it was no longer possible.

As for Nagi, that goal was the last strand of Spider's Thread keeping his sanity from breaking. The last connection to his beloved, the thing that would set him free, or so he thought. If only he knew what had really happened...

The room was pretty quiet until the alarm rang. When it did, it always sounded something like the pitiful cry of an injured bird. The child woke up wrapped tightly in a thick blanket, and more than a little disdained at leaving her warm cocoon. As drowsy as she was, she managed to at least open her eyes. Her irises stood out in the dark, bluish gray and hinted with rust, appearing and dissapearing as she blinked away the haze and the world became clear and focused again.

She felt a partial warmth against her back, and twisted herself around, just enough to see that the door had been left slightly ajar. That's right, normally one of them would leave it open. Slowly but carefully, she lifted herself away from the bed, and her bare feet hit the metallic ground with a wobbly step. It was always cold this early, but still none too pleasant.

She did not even bother to check her reflection, as if she even remembered where Tamaki had hidden that mirror amongst her drawers. She stepped toward the door cautiously, like any frightened child would. When she could ascertain that no one was there, she finally pushed it away and stepped out of her room. The labyrinth of hallways was dreadfully bright, sterilized, but by now it had become familiar. Her footsteps echoed through the large hallway, and she wondered every so often what dazed miscreant might hear.

Suddenly, her ears picked up another set of footsteps, and they were much heavier than hers by far. Could it be a prisoner? This early? Acting on reflex, she ducked behind the gate, but just as she did, the figure stopped. She stayed crouched behind the column, trembling from the pressure on her squat legs. Though she could tell who it was by now, at least judging by the faint scent of smoke that wafted her way.

Genkaku heaved a sigh. "Kaname, come on out, you're gonna be late for breakfast."

The little girl stepped out timidly, hands hidden behind her back like a little kid who had stolen from a cookie jar.

"H-how'd you know?" she said quietly.

"You weren't exactly invisible." He nudged his head down with a hint of annoyance, "And that damn dress."

Kaname looked down, baffled as usual. It was simple, black and white, with the DW logo printed on the front of a sewn on plaque, she assumed to be, in place of a prison number. It was actually one of the cheesy souvenirs sold at the carnival. (Ironically, though, it never made sense to her as to why an outsider would want their child wearing it in the first place).

"What's wrong with it? I'm not the only one who wears it." She smoothed out the creases in the fabric, suddenly self-conscious.

The Undertaker's hand met, quite routinely, with his forehead.

"Only you of all people would wear that cheap getup," he muttered as he began walking away.

She followed close behind. He and Tamaki actually fought over this before, something about "his pupil not looking like a fucking billboard". She giggled.

"See? It's adorable isn't it?" Tamaki said with his hands on the child's shoulders.

"What the fuck is that? Pretty sure those things are a century out of date," Genkaku said with a raised eyebrow.

"Come on, she looks so cute." His face curved into the likeness of a fox for a split second. It seemed like even the most innocent of remarks could make his face stretch lingo that twisted grin.

"No, it looks more like one of those uniforms you make the prisoners working the carnival wear," the monk said flatly, "I'm guessing the budget got cut again?"

The promoter twitched. "That is none of your business."

"Cheapskate," Genkaku remarked as he took a drag on his cigarette.

"But it looks so nice! Fits well too, don't you think so Kaname?" he asked her with a smile.

She nodded. The monk groaned.

"What? She likes it," he said all too innocently. He turned to her and whispered in her ear. "Say 'don't you like it, Daddy?'"

"Okay. Don't you like it Daddy?" she mimicked obediently.

Genkaku glared at Tamaki, obviously unamused. "I'm not her 'daddy'."

"Oh come on, she looks just like you!" he said cheerfully as he mussed up the child's hair. He was right about that in part at least, she had that same red color seeped into her dark curls. Even the doctor had said it was odd.

"Damn it, do you really have to pick all her clothes?" the monk had replied, trying very hard not to mortally wound his boss, "Cause you really suck at it. I'm not gonna have my pupil walking around like that." With that, he had stalked off, leaving Tamaki as the beaming victor.

"What's so damned funny?"

Kaname stopped chuckling.

"N-nothing," her voice got quieter.

Genkaku merely shook his head and kept walking, the little one trailing right behind him like a duckling.

It had been a pretty funny little argument. Her boss and her teacher got along terribly, really. Hardly what one would call "professional". As far as Kaname was concerned, the only aspect they could really agree on was her training.

Training had always been different for her, mainly because she had not been born "outside" like everyone else. Genkaku explained it a long time ago. First she she would be taught the basics, and then she would get "corrected".

Kaname never quite understood what being "corrected" was. Sure, she knew what the word meant, but this didn't seem right. When she asked around, nobody ever gave her a direct answer. Not even Genkaku or Mr. Tamaki. "You'll find out when the time comes. Don't worry about it just yet," that's the only thing anybody ever said in response. As eluding as it had become, after a while, she found it best to just give up.

The two of them continued down the corridor without any conversation. Each was used to that though. 'Words were not always necessary,' Genkaku had taught her. He always found a way to work some kind of moral lesson into every day. Tamaki may be their boss, but Genkaku was still her teacher, so it only made sense that he would try to raise her Buddhist, despite Tamaki's protests.

"You may be a monk, but you don't exactly preach by the book," Tamaki had remarked.

"Über Monk. Different set of rules."

In all honesty, she didn't understand much of the stories and proverbs he told her. Genkaku wasn't the best at the whole "explaining things in terms a child would understand" thing. But she was no prodigy herself by any stretch.

After a few more minutes of wandering around, and wandering thoughts, they finally stopped in front of an automated door. It opened to reveal a small but well-furnished dining room. There was a large table with an array of food set down in a long stripe from one end to another, with several other Undertakers already seated, busy grabbing up everything before it was gone. They stepped inside, and Kaname took in the unusually cheerful vibe of the room. It was so different than the gloom normally found in the rest of G-block.

The child scanned the room and quickly found who she was looking for. Seated a few feet from where she stood was Hibana Daida, busy nibbling on a pastry of some sort. The trainee grinned and walked up next to her.

"Oh, good morning Kana-kun," the Undertaker said with a polite smile. Hard to remember that she was a sadistic killer with that face. All the grunts thought so too.

"Morning Hibana-chan," she greeted back merrily.

The girl drew her finger to the side of her friend's eye with a look of concern. "Underneath your eyes are so dark. How long were you up training till, last night?"

"Nine. I had trouble with target practice so I stayed after really late."

"You're only five, kid," Genkaku remarked as he took out a cigarette, "You barely have enough blood to train with, much less stamina."

She pouted. "I can still do better."

A flicker of orange light glowed from the tip of his cigarette.

"Sure you will," his tone was brimming with sarcasm.

"Just be careful. Tamaki would be mad if you got sick from training too much."

It's true, he would be pretty upset. He and the doctors worried about her health a lot. It wasn't that she was particularly fragile or anything. She was an asset.

'They said it was because of Mommy,' she remembered, 'Mommy and I got hurt and fell asleep for a long time. When I woke up, I had special powers like the dead people. They said they needed me, because my Mommy and Daddy and me could do weird things with our blood.'

"Are you still practicing your flute?" Hibana's voice interrupted her.

"Yeah." she said thoughtfully as she bit into an apple, "I'm learning Genkaku's song."

"Can you play it yet?" the monk asked. His breath was heavy with smoke..

"Almost. Why'd you write it so hard?"

A nother puff of smoke left his lips, "I play guitar, not the flute. It's not exactly my best area."

She tore a piece of red skin off the apple, letting it hang from between her teeth. "I really liked it when you played it for me, it's just hard."

The monk laughed, doing so harder when he saw her scowl. She was so fun to mess with, just like somebody else he knew.

"Eating without me?" a familiar voice echoed.

Kaname turned around to see the figure. It was a lanky boy with dark hair, dressed only in a sweatshirt and long pants.

"Mister Rokuro!" She smiled and ran to him.

His expression did not change.

"Hey Chickadee," he greeted, "You're still wearing that thing?"

She looked down at her dress, then back up with a fresh scowl. "Why does everyone make fun of my clothes?"

"Because Tamaki can't pick them to save his life," Hibana remarked, "Thank goodness he's not a father."

"Whatever." The deadman blew some loose hairs out of his eyes, "Anything left to eat? I'm hungry."

"Undertakers only, spies don't count," Genkaku said without looking at him.

"Come on, treat your laborers well," he said, "Otherwise, you'll lose 'em."

"Don't care, get your own," the monk said as he snatched a bowl away from the man's reach.

Rokuro shook his head and grabbed another apple anyway. As he began to walk away, he stopped short.

"Oh yeah," he said with his back turned away, "The plan's finally begun. Just wait for your cues and everything will go smoothly."

The monk grinned. "I'll try not to come too early. But I can't guarantee there won't be starter casualties."

"The more the better. Stack them up high, if you can. See you." And with that he disappeared.

Kaname looked from the closed door to Genkaku. He smirked.

"Extra work."

She wanted to ask what for, but stayed quiet. Things like this were nothing new after all. Still, the way Rokuro spoke was a tad bit creepy.

"Hey Kaname," one of the other Undertakers called as they entered into the room, clutching a note, "Tamaki wants to see you."

"Okay." She hopped down from her chair and waved a quick goodbye before disappearing into the hall. She was pretty used to being called down to Mr. Tamaki's office. It was usually just for training evaluations and making sure she was progressing alright, nothing major. The young deadman could never understand why the prisoners seemed so afraid of him. He was kind of funny actually.

By the time she reached the familiarly vibrant space, she had already forgotten about Rokuro's message. She stepped inside, as usual, amazed by how much more it resembled the inside of a toybox rather than an office. Tamaki was sitting at his desk, fixing that weird dancing flower that he was so fond of. When he finally glanced over at her, he beamed, stretching his face back into that of a fox.

"Why, hello there Kaname-chan, thank you for coming so quickly." He abandoned the toy and gestured for her to take a seat.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" she asked politely.

"Yes," he said, "I have some news that I feel you will be most pleased to hear."

"What?"

"It will take a little while, and your time with him will be limited, like before, but," he explained, "You will get to see your father again."

It took a moment for his words to register, and after the initial disbelief, a bright smile grew wide across her face.

"Really? You really mean it?" she asked excitedly. This had to be a dream.

"I do, dear Kaname. However, be warned that there will be heavy stipulations as there were before."

"That's just fine to me," she said quickly, her voice enthralled, "Thank you so much!"

The man grinned with sly subtlety. "The date is set at three days from now, at eleven thirty at night. You can stay with him until one in the morning," his voice was smooth but strangely cryptic, "Make sure it feels like a dream, Kaname."

She nodded and bowed graciously before rushing out his office door, and almost bumping into Rei.

"Hey, careful there," the doctor said as she stopped the little girl with her arm.

Kaname looked up with a guilty expression. "Oh, um, I'm sorry."

"That's okay," she said with a sigh, "But just so you know, the prisoners are starting to wake up. You're going to have to wear the collar."

"Aww, do I have to?" she groaned.

"Yes, you have to blend in Kana-chan," the woman said, feeling around a cabinet for a spare, "We can't have anyone asking questions can we?"

"No...we can't," the child said defeatedly as the the metal ring was snapped around her neck.

The doctor smiled, "Good girl, now run along, okay?"

She fled the room immediately. Rei waited until the door shut before turning back to the promoter, all facades now cast aside.

"It isn't like you to grant privileges out of the blue like that," she said calmly, "Just what do you have in store for them, Mister Tamaki?"

"They say the early bird catches the worm, Ms. Takashima." He shot her a cunning look. "I'm merely dangling that worm in front of our bird's eye. If the bird is too hasty, there is a higher chance of error."

Hm, I see." she crossed her arms, smirk not fading, "And he won't even think to suspect what her occupation may be."

"Ah yes, the invisible question that begs," Tamaki wondered aloud, "Is this little one in front of his eye a nameless worm?"

"Or?" the woman replied the question.

His tight-lipped grin widened. "Or...Is she the worm eater."