Disclaimer: I don't own Katekyo Hitman Reborn!, it's characters, or the song used to write this chapter.
The only things I do own are Isabell, and my friend's soul for writing this for her.

Chapter 1
[Death in the Family]

The woman knealt down in front of the gravestone and gently swept the dead leaves away from the epitaph. Smiling thinly, almost as if in fond memory, she placed a single rose on the highly polished marble and ran a delicate finger over the engraved lettering. It had become a yearly ritual for her now: visiting the grave of the woman she'd killed without even trying. Her older sister Ciela, had never let her forget the deed.

"Happy birthday... Mother." She half whispered, standing slowly at the sound of her driver's approaching steps.

"Lady Bell, you're missing your lessons. We should get going." She turned to the man, the one pale grey eye not hidden by her hair settling calmly on him. Visiting her mother was far more important than being pitted against her sister in another pointless competition. It didn't matter how many ways they were tested, it always ended in a draw. Their current fight for their mother's crown was no different. One daughter would rise to her throne, leaving the other to clean up after their Italian father's mafia messes. Unfortunately, draw or not, Ciela was still the family favorite and almost guaranteed the position. She scuffed up a little bit of dirt and ran a hand through her ash blond hair with a sigh, almost knocking her circlet off of her head. It was a poor attempt to mask her irritation.

"Right." She gave the driver a dismissive wave of her hand and followed him back to their cleverly inconspicuous vehicle. The drive home was in silence. She was bracing herself for yet another confrontation with her father. As they pulled into the driveway, she pulled a lollipop out of her coat pocket, unwrapped it and popped it into her mouth in one quick movement. She ascended the stairs and slipped quietly inside - intent on sneaking her way back upstairs to her room - when a painfully smug stare settled on the back of her head. Ciela. Before she could even turn to say something wise to the annoying presence, her father's shout echoed through the entire first floor.

"IsaBELL!" Bell slumpped forward slightly and clenched her fists. She hated it when people used her full and proper name. Turning slowly, she watched as he walked up behind Ciela and narrowed his eyes at her. "Where were you?" It was Ciela who felt compelled to answer.

"She was playing the guilty murderer and visiting mother, like she does every year. How much sense does it make to mourn for a person you've never met?" Bell's beautifully manicured nails were starting to dig into her palms. Who gave her the right to a superiority complex? They were born on the same day, only minutes apart, were raised in the same extravagant home. No one girl received a gift that the other didn't unless they bought it themselves. All in all, they were nearly identical: if one were to see the two of them side by side, the only ways to tell them apart would be their taste in clothes and their choice in hairstyles - Bell kept most of hers in her face, and Ciela always combed hers back. And Bell's inability to stay her tongue.

"One of these days, Ciel, I'm going to slit that slender throat of yours from ear to ear." A wicked smile played on her lips, "Then it'll all be mine."

"Wanna try?" The smile vanished as her sibling tackled her to the ground. Both of them struggled in a mass of flailing limbs and punches, much to their father's disappointment. He could barely keep the two of them in the same room with one another without something like this happening. Even their dance lessons ended in a similar confrontation. Only the sound of their matching circlets clattering on the floor snapped them out of it. In unison, they dove after their respective status symbol and inspected it for damage. When the circlets were found to be unharmed, the women quickly set them in their rightful places on their heads before shooting one another a seething glare. It was never spoken between them, but the silent promise that the fight would continue was obvious.

-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-

Isabell fell onto her bed with a frustrated sigh, her pale skin unmarked despite the usual night of trying to kill her twin. It was an impossible task; they were simply too evenly matched for one to get the upper hand on the other. Unless... A twisted idea crept into her head. Ciela always had to be first: the first to finish her lesson, first to be ready for a party, and the first to throw a punch or run away. Knowing this, and her sister's strict nightly schedule, she crept to her closet and pulled a wooden box from a compartment in the back wall.

It was velvet lined, and filled with her pride and joy: an extensive collection of knives and assorted blades she had custom made at her own expense. They were forged out of some kind of black steel, and shaped like a single spread wing of a raven or crow. Gingerly, she pulled them from their box and tested their edges against her thumb - taking care not to cut herself on the "feathered" edge of the blades. To her delight, the man had kept his word and sharpened them for her. She pulled some of them up into her sleeves and pulled her onyx black silk robe over her white pajamas, dropping more of the intricate blades into her pockets. She'd be damned before she allowed that wretch of a sister to ascend to Mother's former social standing. Bell slipped out of her room silently as her twin made her way downstairs for her own nightly ritual of stealing a couple of light snacks, and ducked into Ciela's room just before the door closed. Ciela returned only moments later and made her way to the bathroom - giving Isabell the time she needed to set her trap. She sat on her sister's bed and waited for the bathroom door to open.

"Still want me to try to kill you, sis?" She asked pleasantly from the bed. Ciela, unimpressed, snickered quietly.

"Try. That's the operative word." The cold remark was answered by nearly a dozen knives embedding into the wall next to her head. Bell tipped her head to the side, her bangs sliding almost entirely out of her face as she did so, and smiled at her sister's mildly bewildered face.

"You... Where did you-"

"Where did I get the knives? Where did I learn how to use them?" She asked before her sister could finish, "While you took your fencing lessons, I was playing with these. They've been in my room for some time now." Ciela's look of mild shock quickly gave way to one of rage. How had she not noticed? The older twin grabbed hold of the rapier she kept alongside her nightstand and pointed it at her sister. Bell simply smiled innocently at her.

"Murderous wretch," Ciela hissed, baring her teeth, "You just want me dead for the crown!" Bell's innocent smile turned to a wicked grin.

"That, and I just don't like you. And to think, I missed with those first few on purpose." From the waistband of her pants, she produced a pair of shortswords that matched her knives and twirled them deftly in her hands. Ciela swallowed nervously. She missed on purpose? She could have sworn her sister cut a few strands of hair from her head with those accursed knives. And she missed on purpose?

"Shall we pick up where we left off then? The usual, till first blood." It was Ciela's turn to smile. Their games of cat and mouse always ended up with one of them cut and bleeding somewhere. It was only by several small miracles that the pair didn't have a single scar on their bodies. Bell played with the one earring she wore for a moment. Would it be worth dragging out? A Cheshire smile spread across her face. It most certainly would.

"Sure. Why not." She flipped her legs up over her head and rolled off the bed in a backwards cartwheel, landing almost silently on her feet before darting out the door - jumping lightly over the tripwire she'd set in the door frame. Ciela followed quickly behind, not wanting to give her sibling a chance to make any distance between them, but stepped out into a dark, empty and silent corridor. She'd played right into it. In running after her without thinking, she broke the wire and disconnected the lights. Her body tensed. Bell couldn't have gotten that far already, could she? Cautiously, Ciela searched room after room in the upper floors, looking for even the faintest trace of her sister. Unfortunately, there was nothing to be found. It was as though the shadows of the hallways had simply swallowed her whole. A faint crash in the foyer caught her attention, and made her giggle quietly to herself. What a klutz her sister was, knocking something over. She'd just given away her hiding place! Ciela ran down hallway and staircase alike, choosing to slide down the bannister of the final staircase and land in the foyer with a menacing growl.

It was almost unnaturally dark in the foyer. Strange shadows stretched across the floor, and the usual moonlight that poured through the window at the top of the stairs was quickly blotted out by a passing cloud.

"Where are you, cyclops..." She muttered. Her answer was a faint snicker from behind her as a blade of cold steel pressed itself against her bare throat. Ciela swallowed hard. Where was all of this skill suddenly coming from? She couldn't have possibly been keeping this much secret from her and their father, could she?

"Yahtzee." A sudden burning sensation on her right wrist made Ciela drop her rapier and cover her now bleeding limb in pain. She wheeled around to her sister, a look of both shock and rage painting her otherwise noble features. Isabell stared at her icily, blood sliding along the feathers of one of her knives while the swords remained clean. Something was terribly wrong here, beyond her own bleeding wrist, and it was obvious in her sister's eyes. Ciela scooped her rapier off the gound in her unharmed left hand, knowing all too well that she'd have trouble wielding it. Rage from her wound clouded her judgement, making her charge blindly at her younger sister despite the knives she threw at her during her approach. Several of them embedded themselves deep in her torso, but the adrenaline rush allowed her to tackle the younger twin to the floor. They struggled for what felt like an eternity: Ciela trying to beat her sister to a bloody pulp, and Isabell leaving cut after cut on her sister's body. It was the final stab in the chest that made the older twin gasp. Bell could almost swear she'd said her name as she pushed the corpse off of her.

Kneeling on the bloody floor, she closed her sister's eyes in a single act of respect, before stealing the ring that she wore around her neck and stuffing it in her pocket. It had belonged to their mother, and she'd sooner be damned than bury her sister with it. Isabell slowly stood up. Her entire body was shaking - her hands the worst of all. She was finally free of all of the comparisons, free of the constant battles, with the beautiful scarlet lifeforce that now coated the floor of the foyer. It was almost too good to be true, but the blood on her hands proved it. For the first time in all of their twenty-six years together, she was able to smile - and laugh - and mean it. Her small giggle fit quickly gave way to full laughter, which caused her shaky legs to give out beneath her. She couldn't care less that she'd just fallen into the blood of her own sister; she was free at last!

"I knew it would happen eventually, but seeing you the victor is quite a surprise." Her head turned sharply toward the stairs, laughter and smile vanishing, to see her father staring down at her. Better make that almost free. "Well done, but I cannot allow a murderer to live in this house. Pack your things, child. You leave in the morning."

"Leaving? Where could you possibly send me?" Her father gave her a stern stare that she knew couldn't be argued with.

"I'm calling in a favor from an old friend of mine. You'll be somewhere safe. Somewhere that you won't be able to taint your mother's name... and kill to your wretched heart's content." He could see in her eye that something had snapped; she was silently reveling in her victory over her older sister.

"You think I enjoyed doing that to her?" She motioned to the body on the floor; it was barely recognizable. Her father chuckled.

"You make it obvious, child." Bell noticed movement at the corner of his mouth. Was he smiling? "We used to joke about your killer instinct, only now I can see how grave of a mistake it was. A princess steeped in blood is not fit to wear her crown. Get out of my sight."

A low growl crawled from her throat as she stalked up the stairs and to her room, slamming the door loudly behind her. She tore the circlet from her head and threw it onto her dresser before changing into some blood-free night clothes. He'd wanted her to kill Ciela all along - or at least wanted Ciela to kill her - and now that she'd done it, he was calling her a disgrace to the family. She reached into the pockets of her disgarded nightclothes and retrieved her weapons, as well as the ring, for inspection. Blood was begining to dry on her blades, threatening the beautiful pieces of black steel with slow decay. Was her sister's blood really any different from her own? They were twins, after all, and it didn't make sense that they'd be too different. Only half aware of her actions, she brought the blade close to her tongue and cleaned a little of the edge. She cringed, both at the bitter taste and the action itself. She slid the ring onto her left middle finger and examined it as she began to drift off to sleep. A dark stone set in a silver ring that was decorated with the same U-shaped crescent moon that was on her circlet - only this one overlapped a shield.

Daddy wants Mother's crown for himself... I don't think I'll give him the satisfaction. She smiled softly at the thought, and quickly drifted off to sleep.

-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-

The first thing Bell did when she woke up was take a long, hot shower to get the smell of death off of her. She could still taste her sister's blood in her mouth, which she strangely didn't mind, but the idea of her corpse touching her at all made her feel vile. Only after she was satisfied the smell was gone - nearly an hour later - she brushed out her short hair and rummaged through her wardrobe for something comfortable enough to travel in. What she settled on seemed simple enough: a pair of knee-high black leather boots, black jeans, and a white silk shirt - which had an open angle from the right hip to just below the left side of her ribcage. Over that, she wore a black leather duster that had the left sleeve missing from just above the elbow. She painted her nails a scandalously deep shade of violet, put her mother's ring on a chain to hang around her neck, and slipped her hands into a pair of gloves that only covered her middle and ring fingers. Her precious circlet was sitting comfortably on her head before she headed downstairs with her case.

She kept her hands deep in her coat pockets as she slipped into the kitchen, searching for the teapot containing her father's morning drink. From her pocket, she produced a small capsule filled with a white powder. She broke it open, and emptied its contents into the pot without a second thought or hesitation. What was in that capsule was bound to make short work of her remaining problem. She walked calmly back out of the kitchen with an English muffin smeared with butter and blackberry jam, as though nothing had happened and she was still royally upset with her father. The breakfast was small, but enough to keep her busy as she took her seat on the foyer stairs and waited for the inevitable knock on the door - and the choking. As it turned out, both happened at roughly the same time. Sighing, she popped a lollipop in her mouth as she walked to the door and pulled it open, the look in her one visible eye stating that she was anything but thrilled with the turn of events.

On the other side of the door were four men and a black limosine. Three of them were obviously grunts, one of which had the misfortune of being forced to knock on the door, and the fourth was someone that just stuck her as odd. He was blond, dressed in a striped shirt and some kind of uniform. Even from the distance she stood at, she could tell he was taller than her. He seemed normal enough, but his eyes were hidden behind his bangs and there was a silver tiara sitting slightly sideways on his head. The candy stick drew odd shapes in the air as she thought. Almost as if he could tell she was studying him, he lifted his head to her and grinned widely.

"What have we here? A peasant trying to play nobility, or a princess trying to look common?" The blond's voice was dripping with sarcasam and his tone was completely condescending. Her eye narrowed at him as the choking in the dining room increased in volume.

"Isa... bell..." Her poisoned father had stumbled into the foyer, eyes filled with hate and betrayal. He could barely speak betwen gasps for air, "How... could you?" Bell glanced over her shoulder at the man for a brief moment and flashed him a small smile. His eyes widened with a dark realization before dropped dead on the floor. The grunt closest to the door took three very large steps away from her as she descended the front steps toward the limo. One of the other grunts rushed inside to grab her single trunk of luggage, eyeing the corpse of her father like it was ridden with the plague, and hurried back out to load it in the limo. She watched them carefully, studying each wary glance cast in her direction. The blond snickered.

"Family problems?" She glanced at him, knowing her bangs were obscuring the one eye he'd otherwise be able to see.

"Not anymore." Her gaze remained calm and entirely unphased as she opened the door of the vehicle and slipped quietly inside, crunching the candy in her mouth nastily and nibbling on the stick as he followed.

Author's Note: I haven't written one of these in full for a while - or ever attempted to publish one - so I'm sorry if my characters seem a little... off. This is kind of an experiment between me, a good friend of mine, and my computer's music player (she loves stories written from lyrics, and Belphegor). I'd like a few reviews before I even attempt to add on to this; I'm really rusty, so please be gentle (None of that "you suck" BS, it's just a waste of time and energy. I'll take constructive critisizm, but not insults). Let me know what you guys would like to see next. :3 (Feel free to PM me with a new song to add to the story.)

Song used for this chapter: Wait and Bleed by Slipknot