Chapter 1:

But now I'm told that this is life.

And pain is just a simple compromise,

so we can get what we want out of it.

–

Her newest target. Hatsune Miku. Female. Height, 5'5''. Weight, approximately 115 pounds. Long, teal hair. Green eyes. Italian. Turns eighteen-years-old in a few days.

A cruel smile etched itself on Luka's lips. Maybe she should have gotten the girl a birthday present...

Kamui stopped humming along to the car radio, instead turning towards her and momentarily takes his eyes off the road, making the pinkette more nervous than she'd like to admit. For once, the twenty-seven-year-old man has no visible weapons on him, dressed casually, much like herself. "You look ready to kill someone," he told her. "What gives?"

Luka set her gaze to her lap, picking at the denim jeans she wore. "Watch where we're going," she retorted.

Her partner sighed, and Luka could only hope he was facing the street again. "This isn't our normal mission," he said slowly. "It's a bit out of our area of expertise."

"It's stupid."

"Yeah."

Luka tapped her fingers against the dashboard. "Why would Master give me a mission like this?" she practically whined. Which was an oddity for her. She hardly ever complained about her job. "I mean, out of all the people—why me? Why right after Luki's death?"

"He explained this already," Kamui chastised. "In the attack yesterday, that Kaiko chick was killed. And she was the ReVamp's leader's lover. He's gonna be pissed, and he's not going to play fair. So Master's worried that they'll go after people close to him, and it's our job to protect them." The man sighed, signaling to make a turn. "Which means his daughter."

The woman pouted. "I don't want to be some brat's babysitter."

He sighed. "Me either." Finally, they pulled up to a large, evil looking building. The sun was shining high above it, and teenagers were filing out as if they'd just set a bomb to go off in there, and they only had two minutes to save their asses before it exploded and they were blown to bits.

Ah, but that was high school, wasn't it?

"C'mon," Kamui prodded, unbuckling his safety belt and opening the car door. "Let's go find her."

Frowning, Luka did the same and followed him. Picking out one girl in a crowd this large probably should have been difficult, but alas, it really wasn't. Probably because she was the only one in the vicinity with freaking teal hair. With a start, Luka suddenly realized where they'd gotten their gang color from. Inwardly, she groaned. Smooth, Master.

The girl—Hatsune Miku—was walking towards the large gate with two others. One, a short, thin blonde girl, was hanging on her arm and laughing loudly. The other, a boy who looked exactly like the girl, trailed behind, seemingly silent. Miku was grinning at her friend. All three wore their school's uniform, the boy with navy pants and a tan vest with a white button-up underneath, the girls with navy skirts and brown sweaters.

Kamui and Luka moved forward, leaning against the gate and waiting for the trio to get close.

"—you should have seen it Miku. It was so scary!" the blonde girl was saying, her arm not hanging on Miku's swinging wildly, nearly nailing the blonde boy in the face.

Miku blushed, lips pursing in disgust. "I'd rather not," she said blatantly. Then, her eyes shot up and locked on Luka.

Her heart suddenly raced in her chest, heat flooding her cheeks. Miku's eyes, green with little specks of gold in them, seemed to be staring right through her. Her long, teal hair, held up in twin tails, fell to her waist in silky-looking waves. A delicate hand reached up to touch a round cheek, the move graceful. Luka choked on her tongue, searching desperately for something to say. God, why was she reacting like this?

"Hi." Kamui stepped forward, smiling at the three teenagers. "We're Miku's ride."

The blonde boy stepped up, moving between his friends and Kamui. "And who're you?" he asked, blue eyes narrowing in distrust. Luka bit back a smile. He was protective. Cute. He glanced back at the girls. "Do you know them?" he asked, question directed towards Miku.

The tealette shook her head, looking a bit fearful—and rightly so. She shifted so that she was holding the other blonde girl's hand. "No."

Finally, Luka stepped up. "We're, uh, friends of your father's," she attempted to explain. "We work for him."

Miku's eyes widened in understanding. "No!" she shouted, anger immediately replacing the fear she once held. "Oh, no. This is not happening." She reached over to grab the boy's shoulder, pulling him back so that the three were in a huddle together. "My dad actually sent his goons over to watch me," she groaned.

Her female friend spoke up next. "Oh," she dead-panned. "The Vocaloids?" She cast a look over to the two members, not looking very impressed.

Luka bristled. She was not a goon. And—and these damned brats should be scared! Her and Kamui were members of a notorious organized crime district known practically world-wide!

And yet...

"Ah," the boy said, glancing at the two. "If that's it, I'm going home." What. Where had that defensive streak gone? "You coming, Rin?"

The other blonde, who was apparently named Rin, shook her head. "Nah. Me and Miku have a history project to work on."

"'Kay." He waved to the two, sending Kamui and Luka a disinterested glared before setting off down the street.

What. The. Hell? People heard the name The Vocaloids, and absolutely trembled in fear. They screamed and cried and ran, dammit. They did not merely brush off two of the members with dirty looks and sighs. They did not shake their heads in exasperation. And they did not—walk away!

But, alas, that was what Miku and Rin were doing. Once again, they were linked arm-in-arm, chattering to each other and heading the opposite direction of the two adults. They didn't even spare them a glance back. Luka looked to her side to see Kamui staring at them with the same bewilderment before she jogged forward, grabbing on to the tealette's shoulder. "Look, kid," she practically growled. "Your daddy gave me and my partner here a mission, and he doesn't treat all of us with the tenderness he shows his princess. So you better get in the damned car, or I'm going to force you to."

"Is that right?"

Luka ground her teeth together. This child was infuriating! "It is right. So say goodbye to your friend and get. In. The. Fucking. Car."

Miku sighed. Sighed. Like the ordeal was merely a bit irritating to her. "I don't want to," she breathed.

Luka barely resisted the urge to hit the girl over her perfect little head with some sort of heavy object. Like the vehicle she refused to get in, as a completely random example. "Master's orders, Princess. Daddy won't like your rebellious streak, I'm sure."

The tealette opened her mouth to retort, but was interrupted by a raucous spurt of giggles from her short friend. "M-Master?" the blonde laughed. "Oh, God, Miku! Your dad's so kinky! That's fuckin' hilarious!"

The pinkette felt her face burn at the insinuation. From beside her, she heard Kamui actually chuckle. Turning towards him, she sharply asked, "What are you doing?"

He shrugged, a guilty grin playing on his lips. "Sorry," he apologized, "But that was kind of funny." Turning to Rin, he gave her a thumbs up. "You're alright, kid."

Luka felt her left eye twitch. She was surrounded by idiots. She wanted to punch Kamui, then throw Miku over her shoulder and haul-ass to the car. Sure, it sounded like a plausible plan, but it most likely wouldn't go over as smoothly as it did in her head. "Miku," she said, not liking that she had resorted to this. "Would you please just get in the car? We'll just take you home, alright?"

Miku fowned, and Luka noticed guilt flash through her eyes. "What are your names?" she asked hesitantly.

Finally, progress. "I'm Luka. Megurine Luka." She tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. "That big idiot," she continued, pointing to the tall, purple-haired man, "Is Kamui Gakupo."

The teen nodded. "I'm Hatsune Miku. But, uh, you know that." Her lips twitched upwards in discomfort, and she grabbed her blonde friend by her shoulder, making her stand in front of her, though Miku was clearly visible above her head. "This is my best friend, Kagamine Rin. The boy who just left was her twin, Len."

Rin gave a mock salute. Miku giggled nervously. Kamui waved. Luka shook her head. "Nice to meet you, Kagamine," she forced out. The blonde pouted. "I'm sure we'll see each other again, but for now, I'll be taking Miku home."

"Actually," Miku denied, "Rin and I need to work on a project together tonight."

"Actually," Luka parroted, eyes narrowing, "You're not. So say goodbye to your friend and come on."

And then Rin was in her face. Or, more accurately, in her chest, because as awkward as that was, that happened to be the only place the girl could reach. "Listen," she huffed, glaring up at the elder with icy blue eyes, "I don't trust you two assholes, so I'm not just letting Miku go off with your guys." She accompanied that statement by stepping back and wrapping a skinny arm around the tealette's waist. She jutted her chin out stubbornly.

"Rin!" Miku whispered harshly, staring down at the blonde. "Can't you have a little tact?"

The shorter shrugged, grinning. "What can I say? I'm from New York."

Luka looked up at Kamui, begging the older man with her eyes to do something. He raised his hands, palms out in surrender. With a quiet groan, the pinkette turned back to the two teenagers. "Fine," she spat. "You can come. For an hour."

"Two."

"Two hours," she gritted. Then, facing Kamui, she mumbled, "Do a background-check on her."

Miku cried out in shock. "Hey!" She stomped her foot, looking every bit like a petulant little brat. "Rin's my friend—"

"And even your friends can betray you," Luka said with a finality, leaving no room for discussion as she turned on her heel and marched toward her car. This was going to be the hardest mission of her life.

–

The twenty-minute car ride was feeling like an eternity. Kamui had stupid music playing, and the children in the back were speaking between their hands, exchanging heated whispers and the occasional giggle. Every so often, one would glance up towards the front, their eyes would widen, and they'd say something to the other.

All in all—extremely annoying.

And it sort of made Luka self-conscious. Because they were totally talking about her. They had to be. They kept looking over. Luka hardly resisted the urge of either shooting them both in the face or running off to hide.

She'd forgotten how harsh and judgmental teenagers seemed.

When they finally—finally!—got to the Hatsune residence, Luka practically leaped out of the car in gratitude. Kamui gave her a funny look, but she ignored it in favor of tapping her foot impatiently while waiting for Miku to get out of the car.

The teal-haired girl lived in an apartment building, stories upon stories high. The front door was locked, needing a key-card to open it, and there was a speaker system with a bunch of buzzers next to the entrance, which Luka assumed was used as a form of "knocking." Miku led the three others, sliding a sleek silver card into a slot. It was promptly spat back out, and the large glass doors beeped before sliding open.

Trailing behind the teen, Luka tried to disguise her awe for boredom. But the interior was amazing. Everything looked shiny and new. And expensive. A doorman smiled at them, glancing at Luka and Kamui a bit suspiciously. Miku received a "How are you, Ms. Hatsune?" and Rin gave him a high-five. The elevator was large and spacious, generic music playing from the speakers as Miku pushed a button for the top floor.

The penthouse, Luka thought. Of course.

And, of course, the home was absolutely fabulous. It was so modernized. It looked like it belonged in one of those fancy interior-decorating shows Luka sometimes watched. In her teeny-tiny, one bed-roomed apartment. On her yard-sale-bought television. While sitting on her junkyard-saved sofa. Eating take-out.

She scowled.

Kamui seemed to be as uncomfortable as she was, standing awkwardly in the entryway and watching as the two girls promptly made themselves at home, throwing their backpacks down on the overstuffed couch and kicking off their shoes to lay haphazardly across the floor. Rin headed around the corner, and the faint sound of a refrigerator door opening could be heard. Miku slumped onto one of the pillows on a loveseat, putting her feet up on the armrest and reaching for a remote. She glanced up at the two adults in the doorway from under her lashes. "Sit down and stay a while," she said, clicking on the freaking 50" plasma.

Luka glared at the girl, but Miku was no longer looking at her. So the pinkette sauntered over to the couch, sitting down, albeit awkwardly. Kamui instead opted for a nearby armchair. With a glance up, Luka noticed Miku was avidly watching some old-looking comedy show that Luka wasn't familiar with. Rin reentered the room, carrying more snacks than it seemed her little arms could carry. She dumped them on the coffee table before literally jumping on Miku.

The woman raised a brow as the tealette shrieked, a wide grin on her face. The two began talking in fast, jumbled chatter Luka couldn't keep up with if she wanted to. Which she didn't. Instead, she looked at Kamui, who was watching the scene with a sort of bemusement.

Which Luka didn't get at all.

She felt her brows creased with a feeling she didn't want to name, bringing her gaze down to her combat-boot clad feet. She felt lost. She wasn't used to this environment.

And she was going to fucking loathe spending. An indefinite amount of time with Hatsune Miku, she was sure.

–

Would someone care to classify

a broken heart and twisted mind,

so I can find someone to rely on...

–

a/n: Yay, an update! -victory dance- So, yeah. Not much to say. Introductions and such suck, bro.

A thank-you to my fabulous reviewers (BlacNight, Chinensis' Fan, PaperCutVictim, Seinakyou,_, TjSiren, LukaFan).

So, yeah. R&R!