Ten slender fingers nimbly danced along a polished keyboard, their movements purposed and graceful as they filled the air with a wondrous sound. With a swift dexterity they formed innumerable chords, arpeggios, melodies, every note ringing clear and true from the little piano. Both of the hands moving about the keys were perfectly in sync with one another, each keeping a constant and firm rhythm that flowed into the music like a riverbank directing water, expertly guiding the chorus of steel strings in their song.

There was a rush up a scale, the sharp sounds of a resounding melody, and then a final, thundering chord. Miku sat back upright over the keyboard, taking her hands off of it. A decent playing, she thought. The dynamics probably could have been more distinct, but it was still solid. She knew she still had a ways to go before the Conservatory would accept her, but she was empowered by the fact that she was making progress.

"Miku, papa's home!" came a voice from the other room.

"All right, mama!" Miku answered. She leapt off the piano bench and dashed into the foyer, just in time to greet the tall, teal-haired man who had come in through the door with a quick hug.

"Well, hello there, tesora!" the man said as he tussled Miku's hair. "Been practicing much today?"

"I just got finished with the Bach," Miku said. She looked over at the slim, apron-clad woman standing nearby. "You heard it, right, mama?"

"It was wonderful, like always," the woman said. "It's a shame you didn't get to hear it, carissimo."

"I'd love to listen later this evening, if Miku doesn't mind. That'd be fine with you, wouldn't it, tesora?"

"Of course!" Miku replied. "You know I'd be glad to play for you."

The tall man chuckled. "I'll look forward to it." He motioned to the other woman slightly. "Ciccina, there's something I need to talk to you about."

"Can't it wait? It won't be long until dinner's ready."

"It's important."

A look of worry appeared on the woman's face, but she quickly shook it off. "Tesora, would you excuse papa and I for a moment?" she said, smiling at Miku. Without waiting for a confirmation, the two went off to a separate room.

Miku stood there a moment, unsure of what to make of this. Papa seemed very serious all of a sudden, but she couldn't think of a reason why. She looked over at the closed door her parents had disappeared behind, contemplating it, even letting herself be lured in by the cruel sense of division it screamed. The sight of it was making a bright and powerful curiosity brew inside her, but she didn't want to be so rude as to stoop to eavesdropping just to satisfy that impulse. Still, she desperately wondered what could be so important that papa wouldn't discuss it in front of her, as she knew he only ever did that when the subject was especially grave.

She gritted her teeth and swallowed hard. Just this once would be fine.

Slowly, Miku crept up to the closed door and put her ear beside it. The voices coming past it were soft, but still quite distinguishable.

"Carissimo, you really shouldn't have been that abrupt. You must've worried Miku."

"I know, I'm sorry. But I had to tell you this right away."

"Right away?" Please don't tell me the winery – "

"It did. Our lack of sales finally caught up to us."

There was a pause, and Miku forced herself to hold in a gasp during the silence. Papa's winery was his treasure, the thing he'd been happiest to accept from his own father once he'd passed on. Miku knew the business wasn't as profitable as it used to be – her parents tried to hide it, but it was clear they weren't able to buy as much food now – but the thought that things were actually this bad was a stinging slap across the face.

"Please, carissimo, you can't be serious. You must've missed something, the accountants could've made a mistake..."

"There are no mistakes, and I'm telling you, I didn't miss anything. The winery's bankrupt, completely finished. We couldn't even sell it off to a Family the way things are now."

"Oh God, I'm so sorry – "

"Don't. I knew what I was getting into, it's my fault for trying to be independent when all the alcohol in the city is in Casa Rinaldi's territory. I should've known better than to try making dolcetto, that's their biggest seller..."

"You tried your best. Look at how long you kept it open."

"I only managed that because of how much I borrowed, and now we're stuck with paying it all off. It was wrong for me to keep that place going as long as I did. You know the laws against debtors: if we can't pay this off, they'll makes us work it off in prison."

"Don't say that. We can get the money we need – we'll sell the house."

"Who'll buy it? People can barely even afford bread these days."

"I still have my job. Won't that help?"

"Maybe. I don't know. It probably won't leave enough to put Miku through the Conservatory."

"If we just make some more cuts in our budge, we'll – "

"No. I'm taking responsibility for this. It's my fault."

"Carissimo, this isn't on your shoulders alone, we're a family."

"I'll join a compagnia."

There was silence again. Miku's eyes widened at the final word her father had uttered.

Even if we need money that badly, he couldn't really be willing to...

"No. No, please, you can't do that."

"Why not? There's a lot of demand for it, so the pay's good. The government isn't about to run out of money for a program like this, either, so it's stable."

"How can you say that? You want to get a job hunting criminals, dangerous ones, and you're talking about pay?"

"It's as a team, I won't be going alone. Sometimes we'd even get help from the police."

"But they won't even train you!"

"I know enough to fire a gun if I have to. Besides, I'd finally be doing something for the city – there aren't many who'll stand up to the thieves here anymore."

"That's because those who do keep leaving the job in coffins. There's no reason to get patriotic about this – even if the police don't take care of much of the crime here, the Families pick up a lot of the slack. They might be criminals themselves, but at least they get things done."

"And yet there are still bandits everywhere. I'd be doing the city some good."

"If you got hurt on the job, would you be doing us much good?"

There was a sigh. "There's nothing else I can do to support this family. You know that. I don't have enough experience to join the police, and even if I'm able to find work elsewhere, there's no chance it'll pay enough to support us. Don't you see this is all that's left?"

"... I do."

"I promise I'll be safe."

"All right."

Miku stood up, trembling, and made her way back to the piano. She swallowed back a sob and absentmindedly ran a few scales up and down the keys. It'll be all right, she thought. Papa isn't reckless. There's nothing he can't handle.

Nearby, the shut door creaked open. "Miku, could you help me finish making dinner?"

The teal-haired girl stoop up and walked over to her mother, making every effort to keep up a smile.


"So, did everything go well today, carissimo?"

The teal-haired man plunged his fork into a potato. "Pretty well, yes. We caught up with that pick-pocket we lost last week."

"How wonderful."

Miku ate a bite of her own potato, relishing the weight of the food on her tongue. Meals had become less frequent and less filling, but she never complained. She understood that mama and papa were doing their very best to make ends meet right now, and she realized that between paying off the debt and saving for the Conservatory, they had to make some sacrifices. They both were living like paupers, maybe even lower than paupers, and it was all for Miku's sake; it was only fitting that she should face the same hardships they were going through, that she should endure their same suffering.

"He managed to cut up Datallo before we got to him. Pretty badly, too."

"Carissimo, please, don't say that at the table."

"Sorry. It was just on my mind."

The clatter of forks on plates filled the room for a few painful moments.

"One of the collectors came by today while you were out," the woman said.

"Oh?"

"They're getting more impatient. I gave them my earnings for the past week, but I don't think they'll be satisfied with that for long."

"I'll get my wages in soon. They'll see we actually have money then."

"That's what you said last week."

The man sighed. "Please, ciccina, you know it'll be fine." He glanced at Miku a couple times nervously, apparently trying to communicate with his wife in silence. Miku knew her father was trying to be discreet, but the meaning behind those glances didn't escape her. It wasn't the first time either of her parents had shown worry about fighting in front of her.

"So, papa," Miku said as cheerfully as she could, "can I play for you after dinner?"

The tall man smiled. "Thank you, Miku. Yes, I'd love that."

"I've been practicing more, whenever mama doesn't need my help. I think you'll like it."

"Tesora, you're the one playing it. I know I'll like it."

Miku smiled, earnestly touched by her father's words. She stabbed her fork into the last of the food on her plate and chewed it slowly, savoring it. Finished, she set the utensil down and began to rise from her seat.

"If I start playing now, would you mind listening from here?" she asked.

"Tesora, please, don't leave until everyone's finished," mama said.

"Your mother's right, Miku. Just wait, all right?"

The teal-haired girl sunk back down into her seat. "All right," she said quietly. The silence in the air could have been cut with a knife. Miku wanted more than anything else to fill it, but she couldn't find the right words.

Both her parents were staring intently at their plates as they ate. It wasn't that long ago since the table was livelier and more cheerful, Miku thought. Now it seemed as if a single wrong word could put a terminal dent in the glass semblance of serenity that stood in the house, finally shattering that fragile peace after it had lost so much of its former integrity.

Papa had told his family more than once about what happened to his coworkers at the hands of the criminals they pursued. Usually they would try to fight the compagnia off with knives or various blunt instruments, but on some rare occasions they even had guns. Once a murderer attacked his pursuer with only his bare hands and teeth, a sight that left papa inexplicably quiet after he'd mentioned it at dinner. Miku could tell the violence bothered her father, and she dearly wished he would just quit the job already. She knew mama did, too, but that didn't make either of them any more inclined towards telling him so.

"She has a gift!" Miku had once overheard him saying to his wife. "I wouldn't be the father she deserves if I let it go to waste."

The woman was apparently unable to counter that, because Miku never heard her object. That didn't entirely surprise her, though: by now, it seemed as if all that kept the both of them going was the need to support their daughter, as if they lost themselves entirely in that filial devotion. They gave and sacrificed unconditionally, day after day, week after week; it terrified Miku to think about how she could ever pay them back for all that.

Miku took another look at her parents' faces as they continued to slowly chew their food. She realized just how haggard and tired they both looked now, how much they seemed to have aged compared to the couple she remembered from even a few months ago. It must have been gradual, this change: it must have sneaked up on Miku slowly, like a tree shedding its leaves in the autumn. Even now, she didn't think she would've noticed this transfiguration if she wasn't thinking about its cause.

Her parents both finally set their forks down. "All right, Miku, go on and play now," mama said, smiling.

"I can help here first, if you need – "

"No, tesora, that's all right, I'll clear the table myself. You just go on and play for papa and me, all right? I've been wanting to hear that song you kept practicing today again."

Miku hesitated. "All right, sure," she said as she slowly rose from her seat.

She smiled back at both her parents, then dashed out of the room towards the nearby piano, with which she soon drowned out the oppressive stillness with a loud, jaunty Mozart piece. Though all she could hear was the singing of the keys, she easily felt the gratitude of the couple nearby, as well as their genuine pride.


It was a few months later when a particularly loud knocking came at the door, loud enough even to make Miku come to a sudden halt in her practicing.

Her mother ran to answer it, and Miku resumed her playing. It was probably another debt collector showing his impatience, warning mama about how the government will not tolerate violations of financial contracts, especially not in these turbulent times. Miku had been told to stay out of such dialogues, and she was glad for that. She found the harsh bureaucracy of the business all so frightening.

She returned to the keys in front of her and picked up at the exact measure from where she had left off, confident in her mother's ability to sort out whatever was going on. It was only when Miku had finished her song and noticed her mother standing nearby, her face reddened and painted with tears, that she realized something was horribly wrong.

"That was a colleague of your father's, Miku," the woman said quietly. "He came here to tell me your father was shot a little while ago by a robber they were chasing down." She swallowed hard. "He's dead, Miku. Dead. They tried to get him to a hospital but the damage was already too much. And now he's gone. Oh God, he's actually gone..."

Her fragile expression finally shattered and she began to sob quietly, covering her face in her hand. Miku only sat there, quiet and bewildered. She wanted to join her mother's cries, to grieve for the man she had known and loved for all her life, but the tears just wouldn't come. It was as if she was so doubled over from the sudden pain in her chest that she couldn't speak or even react.

She didn't even want to believe what her mother had just said. Not just because of how dearly she wished it wasn't true, but because of how impossible it seemed. Papa had come home so many nights without so much as a scratch on him; he had been the invincible one in his work, the one in the campagnia that trouble couldn't come to. He had to have been, because he had the love of his family to guide and protect him. The thought that he wouldn't be coming home tonight was almost inconceivable.

Miku was still silent as her mother began to dry her tears. But the sadness in the woman's eyes was deeper now, and an aching desperation was laced in that sorrow.

"You need to get out of here, Miku," she said. "We need to get you somewhere else as soon as possible. Your father's salary was the only thing keeping the collectors satisfied, and I don't know how I'll hold them off now." She swallowed again. "They're going to want to arrest us both, Miku. The debt's in our name as well as in your father's, and when they figure out we can't pay it off anymore they'll put us both in prison." She took a deep breath, collecting herself. "My brother lives on the other side of town. You need to pack up all your things and go there tonight, no later. I'll give you a letter explaining everything for you to give to him. You'll have to stay there now."

Miku stayed silent another long moment. "Why can't you come with me?" she finally asked, her voice quivering, caught in her throat. "There's no reason for you to be left behind. Please, you can't leave me, too."

The woman slowly shook her head. "I can't, Miku. They know who I am. They've spoken to me, I have bank records. If I leave, they'll find me, sooner or later. And if they find me with you, they'll take you, too." Tears began forming in her eyes again. "Please, Miku, you can't let that happen. You have a future, and I'll die before I let them take that away from you."

Miku wanted to protest. She wanted to steady her voice and shout out some brilliant plan of how it didn't have to be this way. She wanted to tell mama how she had a secret stash of money that could pay off the debt, or at least get them both out of the country; she wanted to say she'd find a job to pay everything off in a day, that she knew a place to hide, anything.

But she couldn't. None of that was true, and Miku knew it. There was nothing more either of them could do now.

She swallowed hard, and finally let the tears brimming in her throat run free. Her mother wrapped her arms around her and held her as close as she could.

"I'm sorry, Miku," she said through her own sobs. "I'm so sorry."


There was still light out when Miku arrived at her uncle's small house later that evening. The man was no wealthier than his sister, but unlike her he let that be a reason to live unmarried, which meant he had a bit of spare room to house the teal-haired girl. He had to take several minutes to recover from the shock of reading the letter Miku had delivered to him at her mother's request, but once he was of a stabler mind the man was completely willing to let Miku into his home.

It didn't take the teal-haired girl very long to move into the place, her possessions being only clothes, various books, and a few stacks of sheet music. Her uncle already had a piano, fortunately, and it was even reasonably in tune.

"Your father always said you have a gift," Miku's mother had told her just before she got into her cab. "And that's because you do. You owe it to yourself to nurture that, Miku. For both our sakes, don't give it up."

She had stopped crying by then – both of them had – but Miku could still see the tears that her mother was hiding beneath her small smile. They shared another hug before Miku finally had to depart, leaving the woman behind at the doorstep of the house she would never see again.

It took Miku some time to recover from that displacement. Even after several weeks at her new home, every evening she secretly hoped that the next morning she would wake up in her old bed, where she would get up and seek comfort in the arms of her mother from the horrible dream she'd just been through.

Her uncle was more than accommodating, and Miku was grateful for that. He was always doing his best to be supportive and hospitable, whenever he wasn't too busy.

"If there's anything I can do to make you more comfortable here, just ask," he would often say.

Miku appreciated the offers, but she never had anything to ask for. She had a feeling that the man was glad to have someone else in the house, but she didn't want to be any more of a burden to him than she already was. Her only way of paying him back for his hospitality was to perform on the piano for him, which, though she knew he loved it, was far from what she felt she owed.

But the bigger reason that Miku never asked anything from her uncle was because she knew he couldn't actually do anything to help her. From the day she arrived, she couldn't stop thinking about what must have happened to her mother. She had to have been arrested by now, already locked up in a debtor's prison somewhere, imprisoned alongside all the other families who'd committed the sin of over-ambition. It was the sacrifice she had made, Miku knew, but the more she thought of the woman alone in a stone jail somewhere, the more she wondered if there was any way she could have saved her. She had done so little compared to the rest of the family, and given the miserable state they were in, she began to realize that her sloth was just betrayal wearing a different mask. In her own way, she had abandoned her mother, and no matter how much she tried to fight it the guilt of that act ate away at her like a parasite.

Miku knew her mother couldn't get out of the Hell she'd thrown herself into on her own. That was what finally gave her the courage to want to change things.

One morning, Miku asked her uncle about where she could go to find work. The man was utterly surprised to hear her say anything of the sort.

"Why do you need the pay?" he asked.

"Because I want to get mama out of debtor's prison," Miku answered. "I'm going to start paying off the debt now."

The man smiled apologetically. "Your mother wouldn't want you to do that, Miku. If you don't keep practicing, you might not get into the Conservatory."

"I'll still be able to find time for that."

"Any job you'd find would be very demanding. They'd expect you to put in as many hours as someone who doesn't have spend time practicing the piano, if not more, and even then the pay wouldn't be very good. But that's assuming you even find any openings – those of us with actual work experience can't always find employment."

"I'll look anyway."

The man sighed. "You'll just be wasting your time. But, I won't stop you."


For the next two weeks, Miku spent nearly every available hour of daylight searching the city for work. She stopped at every store she found, talked to every person that was carrying a delivery or working in the streets, and pored diligently through every page of every newspaper in the city for even one advertisement for a job opening. But no matter where she went, she found nothing. Even those few places that seemed to have positions available were uninterested in hiring her (though Miku comforted herself with the speculation that none of them probably paid very well anyway).

Her uncle was never arrogant or demeaning when she came home unsuccessful every night.

"You're trying your best," he would say. "Your mother would think that's enough. I know I do."

But Miku didn't. She wanted results, benefits from all her efforts, a means by which she could at least partially return the countless kindnesses her mother had given to her. But more importantly, she wanted her mother to be a part of her life again. As much as she hated to admit it, Miku knew nothing could be done for her father now; she would risk anything to keep her mother from the same fate, from disappearing into that unreachable void.

Yet, after she was sadly turned down by yet another grocer, Miku was beginning to lose hope. By this point, she wasn't even sure of how much of the city was left to search through. It felt as if she had combed through every stone in every road, every tile on every roof, and still found nothing; now there just didn't seem to be much point in continuing. The sun was beginning to set, and Miku was tired, not to mention she didn't like how empty the street was.

Except, not too far off, there were two young men in dark suits dashing across the cobblestone road.

"C'mon, hurry up!" one of them shouted. "You wanna be late for dinner on payday?"

Miku's ears pricked up at that last word. These two men, whom she was sure she'd never seen in her searches, were getting paid. These two men, young and presumably inexperienced, had jobs – not only that, but jobs enough to provide for expensive clothing. This was all the more baffling because Miku couldn't recall ever seeing people so young in such formal clothes: normally, they seemed to be reserved for the old and experienced, the keepers of profitable shops who'd clawed their way up through the ranks with the time and diligence Miku knew she couldn't afford to spend. The very sight of these two well-dressed men bemused her, but more importantly, it smelled of opportunity.

"Excuse me!" Miku shouted at the two men as she approached them. They both froze, perplexed at the girl's intrusion into their lives.

"Um, I'm interested in finding a job," she explained hastily. "You two seem well-paid, and I was, uh, wondering if, if..."

"You want in on our work, is that it?" one of the men said.

"Yes," Miku answered, nodding. "Yes, that's right."

The two men glanced at each other uneasily.

"She wants work?"

"That's what she said."

"But... work?"

"What else could she mean?"

"So, then, she knows?"

"If she didn't, she wouldn't have asked."

"Does that mean we should..."

"Yeah. It does."

"What? You sure the capa won't mind?"

"She'll be fine. You know how she loves new recruits."

"Well, fine then."

They both turned back to Miku.

"All right. Come with us, we'll show you the way."

Miku's face lit up with glee. "Really? Thank you so much! This means the world to me."

One of the men chuckled. "I like your gusto. Keep it up, you'll need it."

They led Miku through dozens of streets in silence, until finally they arrived at an enormous gated mansion. Miku was immediately in awe of the sight, though she couldn't help but wonder why she had been brought to a home instead of a store or a factory.

A guard standing by the steel gate eyed Miku suspiciously.

"You two got a new one or something?" he asked.

"We'll see what the capa thinks of her first," one of the men answered.

The guard shrugged and let the group through the gate. Soon, they were standing in the magnificent lobby of the mansion, which only further overwhelmed Miku with wonder. The place was beautiful, she thought, surely built by a master architect of days gone by. She had no idea such a marvelous building even existed in the city.

"Not bad, huh?" one of the men said, grinning at the bewildered girl. "The Kagamines know how to greet their visitors, that's for sure."

The other man jerked his head towards a nearby hallway. "C'mon. They're probably in the usual place."

They lead Miku down a labyrinthine series of halls, though she barely noticed the paths they were taking. At the moment, she was far too busy wondering who these "Kagamines" were and whether or not she should have heard of them.

The group soon arrived at a wooden door, and one of the men gave it a couple knocks.

"Signora! We've got a new one!"

The door creaked open, revealing a young man with blonde hair, wearing a rather striking tuxedo. He looked over the group, scowling.

"This is more than a little improper, messeri. Bringing someone new in here requires – "

"Oh, just let them in, Len!" came another voice from behind the door.

The blonde glanced behind him, sighed, and then opened the door fully. Miku and the two men stepped into the small room, where she could now see there was a table that two women were sitting at: one blonde, the other with green hair.

"I hope we haven't interrupted anything, signora," one of the men said.

The blonde woman smiled. "Not at all. Please, if you'd leave us."

The two men nodded and left the room, shutting the door behind them. Still smiling, the blonde woman motioned to an empty chair, which Miku immediately sat in. The room was scarcely furnished, she noticed, with the table and several chairs being its only contents. Not that there seemed to be much room for anything else.

"Good evening," the blonde woman said. "My name is Rin Kagamine, and this" – she motioned to the woman next to her – "is my associate, Sonika. And this is my brother and additional associate, Len. I suppose you could say the three of us are the core of our little business."

"I'm Miku Hatsune," the teal-haired girl stuttered out. "I'm... I'm really grateful you're considering me."

"Good to hear," Rin said. "So then, you're interested in joining us?"

"Yes," Miku answered immediately. "You see, I've been looking for work everywhere, but... well, there just hasn't been anything, so I thought..." She paused, realizing she was missing a crucial piece of information in her initial excitement. "Actually, can I ask what you do here?"

Everyone else stared at her blankly a few moments, until Len's laughter loudly shattered the silence.

"She doesn't even know what she's getting into! Come on, Rin, there's no way this one's worth our time. Let's get her out of here."

"No!" Miku shouted, almost pleading. "Please, I'll do anything! I could cook, clean, make deliveries, whatever you need!"

"Hold on, Len," Rin said. "We shouldn't be so quick to dismiss new members, wouldn't you say? Especially ones in such pitiable circumstances."

Miku's eyes brightened. "Then... you'll hire me?"

Rin chuckled. "It won't be as easy as that, I'm afraid. You'll have to impress us first." She reached under the table and set something down on its surface with a soft tap. Miku could only stare at it, scarcely believing what it was.

A gun. A small one, a revolver. The kind men on the streets used to kill.

She looked up at Rin, fearful. "I don't understand."

"Isn't it obvious?" the blonde asked. "Our business is order and trade, signorina. We're the source of stability for this city, and we make a considerable profit playing that part."

Miku's eyes widened in realization. This was a Family. Gangs of criminals, her mother had always called them, thieves who stole with the aid of a sword. She had never even been sure that they really existed. But now, she was sitting right in the midst of one, just like Daniel trapped in the lion's den.

"So naturally," Rin continued, "before you can join us, we have to see whether or not you're capable of shouldering that responsibility. Sonika, if you would."

The green-haired woman nodded. "Recently, one of our members was shot and robbed by a local thug," she explained. She produced a sketch of a young, unshaven man and slid it towards Miku. "His name is Marzio Gabbana, and this is an approximation of his appearance. He was last seen on Via del Battuto, in the south side. We have maps if you're unsure of how to get there."

"But, what happens once I find him?" Miku asked in a small voice.

Rin laughed again. "You haven't caught on yet? Why, we want you to kill him."

Miku held back a gasp. As much as she'd seen that answer coming, she desperately wanted to believe it wasn't true.

"No," Miku said. "No, please, I couldn't possibly – "

"You did say you'd be willing to do anything, didn't you?" Rin said. "Still, I can understand how someone might be hesitant about something like this, and as much as I'd like to offer you another opportunity, I'm afraid this is the only job we need filled at the moment. However, should you be hired for it, I can assure you your compensation will be quite generous. We recognize the sort of the labor such work requires, after all."

Miku swallowed hard. Though the offer of a rich reward was tempting, she could barely imagine doing what was being asked of her, and every fiber in her being wanted to storm out on the spot, to leave this horrible place far behind. They wanted her to kill a man, to take a life, and even though it was a murderer's the very thought of the act horrified her.

But then she thought back on her failed searches, how now she had at last come across gold after such fruitless travels. It was an opportunity, and Miku didn't want to let it slip through her fingers.

After all, this was the only chance her mother had left.

Miku stared down at the gun in front of her for a long minute. Slowly, she reached out and grabbed the weapon, trying to see how best to hold it. The very touch of its metal against her skin was like acid, but she didn't dare let go.

"All right," Miku said. "I'll do it."

"Excellent," Rin said. "Oh, but one more thing: we'll need you to show some sort of proof of the task's completion." She thought a moment, then her face lit up with inspiration. "Once you've killed this thug, bring us back one of his fingers. We'll call it a test of loyalty, hm?"

Miku swallowed again, then gave a small nod. Slowly, she got out of her seat, and Len led her out of the manor.


A ragged man in patch-ridden clothes rooted through a pile of trash in an alleyway, giving most everything he found a quick sniff before throwing it away in dissatisfaction. He's disgusting, Miku thought as she watched him from behind the corner of a nearby building. It seemed unlikely that he had any family, too, because Miku just couldn't imagine how a family could let someone live like this.

She wanted to let that thought make this task easier. But instead, it only made her pity the man: when he was gone, it would be as if he'd never even existed.

Miku knew this was the man she had been looking for. He was only a few blocks away from Via del Battuto, he looked exactly like the sketch Miku had been shown, and a few other people had even been able to identify him as Marzio Gabbana. If any of those people had any idea of why Miku wanted to find him, they certainly didn't show it.

Gritting her teeth, Miku huddled up against the wall with her gun in a tightly-held grip. She still didn't want to go through with this. She tried to tell herself that this man was a criminal, a thief, a murderer. He was no better than the man who'd shot and killed her own father; in killing him, Miku would just be doing justice, and protecting other people from further crimes. She'd only be doing what her father did in his campagnia. That had been enough to keep her on the killer's trail, but now that she actually saw the man, she felt hesitant.

Miku swallowed hard. She had to do this, no matter what her reservations were. It might be in service to thieves, but she would be helping the city. And more importantly, she'd have a chance to save her mother.

Taking a final deep breath, Miku left her spot on the wall and crept down the alleyway as quietly as she could, the gun held in both her hands. The filthy man turned towards her as she approached, and she froze in place at his piercing gaze.

"Something you want, signorina?" he growled.

Miku hesitated, her voice stuck in her throat. Slowly, she pointed the gun at the robber, trying her best to steady her trembling arms.

He raised an eyebrow, then gave a loud laugh. "What, you here because of that guy in the suit I bumped off? C'mon, you're not fooling anyone with that gun, signorina. Go home."

Miku swallowed once more and pulled back on the trigger with all her might. A deafening bang rang out from the gun, and Miku's arms suddenly screamed from the agony of a tremendous backwards force. The thug let out a cry of pain and fell down to his knees, tightly clutching his left leg.

"You little bitch!" he screamed. He pulled a crude knife out from his belt and hobbled back to his feet, growling as he limped towards the teal-haired girl.

Panicking, Miku took a long step backwards, but suddenly lost her balance and fell to the ground. The wounded man inched closer and began to raise his knife, still roaring in a horrible fury.

Miku pointed the gun back at the robber and, forcing her eyes shut in terror, gave the trigger another squeeze. A trickle of crimson burst forth from the robber's forehead, and his eyes rolled up towards the back of his head. Letting out a soft groan, his form crumpled to the ground like a discarded doll, the knife giving a loud clang as it crashed down against the stone.

The teal-haired girl stood back up, trying to calm her racing breath. The man before her was lying perfectly still, his mouth still open in a silent scream. Miku could barely stand to look at the sight, but she knew her works here wasn't finished.

They still wanted proof.

Still shaking, she stepped over the deep-red puddle flowing out of the corpse and picked up the knife that had fallen beside it. She forced down a sob, all too conscious of what she was doing, what she'd done.

I'm sorry mama, she thought. I'm so sorry. But this is all I can do for you now.

Miku knew her mother could forgive her for this, even if she couldn't forgive herself. She took comfort in that knowledge, if only so much, and drew some extra bit of strength from the feeling.

Slowly, she bent over the dead man's form and brought the knife down at the edge of his palm.


Rin was quite pleased with Miku when she returned. Len seemed satisfied too, in fact, which Miku found incredibly surprising given the cold demeanor he had previously shown.

"That was much quicker than most new ones do," Rin said, examining the dismembered finger Miku had given her. She set the bit of flesh aside and smiled at the girl. "I'm also impressed you brought that bit of proof back so easily. To be honest, I wasn't sure you were up for such messy work."

Miku stayed silent. Neither was she.

"In any case, I'm more than willing to let you join us now," Rin continued. "The next jobs for you will be easier, I can assure you. We'll give you some basic training and such – we don't want out employees to be ill-equipped for their work, you understand. And as I said before, you'll be compensated quite well for all that you do for us."

The words sent a jolt of panic through Miku. The next jobs. She hadn't even been thinking about how there would be more.

Rin turned to her brother. "Shall we initiate her, Len?"

"Now's as good a time as any, I guess."

The young man reached into his pocket and pulled out a small photograph, which after a closer look Miku saw was of a portrait of a saint. A medieval painting, it looked like, with the subject clad in brown robes and a golden disk of a halo peeking over from behind his head. Next to the picture, Len set a knife and a match.

"By taking part in this ceremony," Rin began, "you will have pledged your undying allegiance to our Family, to Casa Kagamine. You will have sworn to obey your superiors' every order without question, and to regard those leaders with nothing but the highest respect. In joining us, you will have become part of our very kin and be regarded as one who shares our very blood; you will act with the honor such nobility entails, and you will tolerate nothing less in any other familiare. Miku Hatsune, to all of this do you swear, and on that oath join our Family?"

Miku hesitated. She had no idea so much would be asked of her so quickly by these people, all just to be hired by them. It certainly wasn't an oath she was willing to follow, she knew. But she was this far in already, and she realized there was nowhere else to go.

It won't have to be for long, she thought. Once she had enough to pay off the debt, she wouldn't have to be here anymore. She could go back to the piano and join the Conservatory, only this time her mother would be there to share in her successes.

It wasn't something she wanted to do. But surely, she wouldn't have to do it for long.

"I do," Miku finally swore.

Len slid the knife closer to the teal-haired girl. "Draw a cut along your finger," he ordered.

Miku hesitated, utterly shocked at the command. After a long moment's terror, she finally took a deep, silent breath and picked up the blade, then dragged its edge along the tip of her index finger. It stung horribly, and within a few moments the tiny wound was drooling out a few drops of dark ruby.

"Trace your finger along the face of the saint," Len ordered, "that your own blood may blend with ours."

She took another breath and did so, painting the calm face of the man in the picture with the sticky red fluid that was bleeding forth from her fingertip. Within a few moments, his face was completely obscured by the crimson liquid.

"Now," Len finished, "light the picture."

Hesitantly, Miku struck the match against the side of the table and brought the flickering end of the match up to the photograph. The fire caught on a corner of the picture, disintegrating the edge into a dry black powder and horribly warping every last inch of the image as it climbed across its surface. The picture began to curl up into itself, now lying on the table as a smoldering, shapeless mound. The blood-covered face of the man in the photo was wreathed in flame and slowly melting away.

Rin leaned in over the table, closing the distance between herself and the teal-haired girl. "If you ever break the vow you have just made," she said, "you will burn just like this saint. Never forget that, Miku Hatsune."

Miku didn't respond. Not for long, she kept repeating in her head. Only for a little while.

"And one more thing," Rin said. She produced a small cloth bag, the soft clink of coins crashing against one another sounding as she it onto the table. "Your payment for tonight. It's only a start, of course. The real money will come later."

Miku took the pouch and stowed it away in her dress. "When should I be back?"

"When you're needed again, we'll let you know," Rin said. "Of course, it would be much simpler for you to just live here, in the manor. I assure you, the rooms are magnificent, and it would only amount to a small deduction from your salary..."

"No, thank you," Miku interrupted. "I have family elsewhere that I'd rather not leave."

Rin smiled. "How noble. That's just the sort of loyalty we like to see," she said. "You may go now. I expect great work from you, Signorina Hatsune."

Miku nodded, stood up, and left the room. On the table, the picture of the saint was all but burned away.


"Where have you been for so long?" Miku's uncle asked when she got home later that evening.

Miku wasn't entirely shocked by his concern: it was already nightfall, and wandering the streets by oneself this late was something the man had every right to be worried about.

"I... found work," she said. "I was just finishing up there, is all."

The man raised an eyebrow, then finally smiled. "Well, I'm glad all that searching finally paid off, then. Does it pay well?"

"Oh, sure," Miku said, feeling the weight of the cloth pouch she'd hidden in her dress. "Very well."

"I'm glad. But, you can't expect to pay off the debt on your salary alone. Not unless you earn it for years on end, anyway."

Miku had seen the figure of what her family owed a few times, when she had gotten an occasional glance at one of her parents' spreadsheets, and as she thought about how much she'd been given for tonight's work alone, she decided it wouldn't take too long to pay things off. A few months, maybe a year at most – Rin had said Miku would be getting more as she kept working, after all.

She would be paying in blood money, she knew, and she wanted to abandon this plan because of that. But then she thought of how quickly this could all be over, how after only a matter of months she could have her mother back. Papa was gone, would always be gone, but now Miku had a chance to put what was left of her life back in order.

"I'll just do what I can to help," she said.

"That's good of you to say, but don't lose track of what your dreams. Your mother wouldn't want you to give up the piano just to chip away at what your father owes."

"I know," Miku said. She didn't want to stop playing, of course. This would just be a minor detour, and she would put her focus completely back on music once it was all over.

Only, she wouldn't practice tonight. She didn't want to dirty the ivory with the stains left on her fingers.


Over the next few weeks, Miku slowly learned that Rin had told her the truth: work really did get easier.

From time to time, they would train Miku, teach her skills of her profession. She learned how to better handle a gun, how to silently break open a window, what vital points to target with a knife. She took it all in as quickly as she could, and even became reasonably skilled in what she was taught. If she was really going to go through with this line of work, she figured she ought to be prepared for it: as grisly as the job was, she didn't want to let her father's fate befall her, too.

But that wasn't the only way things became less difficult.

Every so often, Miku would be summoned back to the Kagamine manor by a note slipped under the door. It wasn't every day she was called, or even most days, but it was often enough to make Miku feel the Family's presence in her life, like an off-color part of the wall she couldn't quite cover up. Every time she was called, there would be another target for her, another wretch who had wronged Casa Kagamine in some way. At first, they would tell Miku of her quarry's crimes, of how the scum had stolen or robbed or murdered, and then they would give her an address, a contact, or maybe even a sketch of the criminal.

But then later, they began to leave out the specifics of what Miku's target had done, and it wasn't long until she was given just the address, the contact, the sketch. But invariably, Miku was given a name, an identity to erase from the text of the city.

And little by little, knowing that stopped bothering Miku as much as it had before.

"I'm sure this isn't always easy for you," Rin had said, "but just remember the value of what you're doing. You're cleaning up the grime that's collected, that's all. You're making things better and brighter for the rest of us – both your Family and everyone else."

Miku couldn't really argue with that. Everyone she hunted down was guilty of some crime, she knew, if not against Casa Kagamine then against someone else. She knew she would never be told to kill an innocent.

"That would be very bad for business," Rin had explained.

And with every name she erased, every face she burned away, Miku took another step towards her mother's freedom, as well as towards her own. The money she earned from each job steadily grew, and after a few weeks of work it became readily apparent that this was the best way to pay off the debt. But more than wages changed as time went on: when Miku began, she thought that every job would be just as painful and terrifying as her first, but somehow, she learned to numb herself to the fear and hesitance that had slowed her down then. But she was utterly thankful that she never fell so far as to enjoy her work.

Miku was always careful to never let herself get into a situation she couldn't handle. She learned ways of luring her targets into a false sense of safety, of catching the more dangerous ones off-guard. And somehow, she managed to never come home with anything more than a few scratches, which her uncle either never noticed or simply wasn't concerned about. In that sense, this job was an incredible deal for Miku: it was stable, low-risk, and incredibly well-paid. It was everything she could have wished for when she'd first started looking for work.

That was a very small comfort, most of the time – it did so little to distract Miku from what it was that she actually did, what it was that she would continue to do.

Even though she didn't have to put all that many hours towards her work, Miku began to practice less and less. It wasn't out of laziness or a lack of motivation: she still desperately wanted into the Conservatory, and realized that to do so she'd need a lot more time with her instrument. But it was becoming more difficult to focus on her playing, as if the spark that she had kept inside herself for so long was slowly dying away. Sometimes, when she played, her loudest chords would become the screams of all the men she'd shot, and her softest notes became their groans of agony. Other times, Miku couldn't even bring herself to touch a single key, if she even bothered getting out of bed.

She played well enough when it was time at last for her audition to the Conservatory. The only problem was that "well enough" didn't mean much in the face of hundreds of other "excellent"s. It didn't come as much of a surprise to Miku when she received a letter the next week regretfully informing her of the Conservatory's decision to deny her request for admittance.

"Don't worry," her uncle had said, "there'll always be next year."

Miku could tell he was covering up an ocean of disappointment, one that was maybe even greater than her own. The man seemed to have recognized the melancholy that Miku had developed over the past few months, despite how much the teal-haired girl had tried to hide it, and he'd spent all his time around her tip-toeing about the state of things. Miku knew he must have wanted her to be more enthusiastic, more vivacious, and she easily realized that her rejection made the development of that sort of vibrancy more unlikely in her uncle's eyes.

But it wasn't long after that failure when Miku suddenly found a reason to celebrate. She had gone through all her savings after one especially large payment, and found that she had finally reached her goal. She didn't have the precise figure of the debt to match her own earnings against, of course, but from what she remembered of the number, she was certain she had more than enough.

She didn't have the proper identification or records to make the deposit herself, but she knew of someone who did, and Miku decided it was high time she finally saw her.

One of the benefits of being given contacts in such low places was that Miku had been able to learn of where exactly her mother was being held. It was in a prison that, thankfully, was still within the city, and on the very evening when Miku realized the good news she ventured off to the place, eager to tell her mother of their new change in fortunes.

When she arrived at the prison, Miku couldn't help but feel intimidated by the cruel immensity of the place: its stone walls were tall and foreboding, and the guards outside were very slow to let her in, finally doing so only after Miku had slipped each a couple of coins. The jail's interior was just as huge, cold, and barren as the outside, and Miku shuddered at the knowledge that her mother had spent over a year in the place.

Behind a desk at the end of the entrance room was a balding man scrutinizing a great stack of papers, and at both of the gated doors on either side of him stood a tired guard.

Miku approached the desk and cleared her throat. The man glanced at her over his slim glasses, his expression calm but wearied.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"I'm interested in visiting a prisoner," Miku said, and gave him the name of her mother.

"Any particular reason you want to see her?" the clerk asked.

Miku hesitated. "I want to talk with her about her debt. I might have a way to help her."

The clerk smiled. "How kind of you. And what is your connection to this woman?"

"She was my employer," Miku lied. She didn't completely trust giving an official the knowledge that she was the child of a debtor.

"All right then." The clerk filed through the stack of papers, then finally pulled out a single sheet and scanned over its text. He came to a stop in his reading and frowned.

"I'm terribly sorry," he said, "but it seems that Signora Hatsune is no longer with us."

The words filled Miku with a sudden and horrible dread. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"She's dead, most regrettably," the clerk said. "One of several victims to a recent and rather messy outbreak of cholera we've had here. Such things aren't uncommon, I'm afraid."

Miku stood there silent as the man spoke. It was all she could do. She wanted to feel as if she was forcing back tears, a scream, a protest, anything. But she wasn't. She went completely blank as she heard it all, filled not with denial or grief, but with emptiness. The world didn't become darker or colder; instead, it seemed to melt away entirely, like sand in the wind.

"Thank you anyway," Miku finally forced herself to say.

"I really am sorry," the clerk said. "It's all the more tragic that she didn't even have anyone outside to help pay off her debt, except maybe a brother she mentioned. Though, the records say she was supposed to have had a daughter, too. I wonder what happened to her."

The teal-haired girl turned towards the door. "So do I."


Miku didn't wait for a summons to return to the Kagamine manor. There was no reason for her to be with them anymore, no more drive to keep her walking along the crimson path they had forged for her. She wanted out, now.

The guards at the gates knew her well enough by now to simply let her through, so she went straight into the manor and quickly found Len, Rin, and Sonika gathered about the table in their meeting room.

"Why, Miku," Rin said, surprised. "What brings you here?"

The teal-haired girl swallowed. She knew she was treading on thin ice right now, but it was a risk she had to take.

"I would like to first thank you for the employment you've granted me," she said. "I'm very grateful that you gave me such plentiful work when I most needed it. But, I'm not in need any longer." She took a long breath, summoning up her confidence. "I'd like to quit."

The other three simply stared at her for a long, agonizing moment.

"How dare you," Len finally said. "Did you think you agreed to a short-term job, something you could just leave behind as soon as you decided you'd gotten enough out of it? This is a Family, your Family. You're bound to it as if by blood. Did your vows mean nothing?"

"Len, calm down a moment," Rin said. "Please, Miku, I urge you to reconsider. You've aligned yourself to us, and in doing so inherently agreed to never leave. Besides, you're a valuable and respected member of our society: you're an efficient assassin, and you strike down our foes as if you had the prowess of Diana herself. Your leaving would be a significant loss for us."

"I'm sorry," Miku said, "but this is still a job. I have the freedom to leave if I want."

Rin sighed. "I didn't want to say this, Miku, but you've forced my hand." She leaned back in her seat comfortably. "Isn't it true you have an uncle you're living with?"

Miku froze. "How did you know about that?"

"We don't like being uniformed about our members, Miku. If they keep secrets, we're forced to find them out." The blonde turned towards Sonika. "And isn't it also true that this uncle is the only family Signorina Hatsune has left?" she asked knowingly.

"It is," Sonika replied. "Aside from us, of course."

"Of course," Rin said. "Still, that biological kinship can be quite strong. It'd be a terrible shame if anything were to happen to this man, don't you think?"

Miku's eyes widened. "No. Please, you wouldn't – "

"His safety is up to you, not us," Rin said. "So the question is, are you going to make the right choice?"

Miku was silent a minute, then finally swallowed what last bit of resistance she thought she had left. "I'll stay," she said quietly. "I'm a familiare. I have no choice but to stay."

Rin smiled. "Good. I'm glad to hear it. Now run along, and don't worry yourself with such things again, hm?"

The teal-haired girl nodded, and solemnly left the room.


When Miku came back home that night, she knew she had no choice but to finally confess everything to her uncle. He was shocked to the core when he heard the true nature of his niece's job, even horrified. He might not have even believed Miku had she not shown him the immense earnings she had stashed in her bedroom.

"I'm giving it all to you," she told him. "Thanks to me, you're not safe in this city anymore – even staying in Italy might be dangerous. You need to take every penny and leave."

"I can't just leave you behind, Miku," he said. "Please, you have to come with me."

The teal-haired girl shook her head. "I'll only be putting you in danger. If Casa Kagamine spots me leaving the city, they'll kill us both. They won't find you if you travel alone: they only know my face."

The man didn't accept that. Even when Miku finally convinced him to leave on his own, she knew he didn't accept it fully. But in spite of that, she somehow got him to sell his house for an extra scrap of money that he could use to help settle down elsewhere, though he still insisted on leaving Miku half of the earnings she'd given him. He said she could use it to get out of the country herself when things finally settled down, or in the meantime use it to find another place to stay. Miku tried to store the money in the bank under a false name, but when she went to make a withdrawal a few weeks later she found every penny was gone, lost in order to recuperate for a series of housing loans they were unable to collect on. The teller was quite apologetic when he told Miku of all this, but sadly there was little he could do for her, considering how her savings were all uninsured.

Once her uncle had left, Miku finally accepted Rin's offer of living in the manor. She hoped doing so would put her back in favor with the Family, that it would show she was truly willing to stay with them. But it was mostly because she didn't have anywhere else to go.

Her work with Casa Kagamine continued, but all the while she waited for an opportunity to escape. A point where they'd fire unnecessary sicari, where Len and Rin would leave for another city – any opening, no matter how slight, would at least give her a chance, some means to begin burrowing out from her prison. But that opening never seemed to come.

They made it clear that they had a watch on Miku. If she was late for dinner, they would pepper their mealtime conversation with the subtlest of threats and purposefully serve her less food; if she was late coming back to the manor in the evenings, the next day they would lock her door from the outside. It was only after her salary had dropped that they finally eased their grip on her. The decrease in her wages had been so subtle Miku didn't even notice it at first, but slowly, she realized it was another effort to keep her dependent on their supervision and care.

And as much as she hated to admit it, it was working.

If Miku's uncle ever wrote her, she never got the letters. Maybe they got lost in the mail, maybe the cavalieri were keeping them from her – she didn't know. It quickly became that the only people she ever had contact with were those in the Family, if anyone at all.

They made every effort to keep Miku comfortable, to make her cage one of gold. The meals they provided were delicious and plentiful (something Miku didn't even realize was possible), and Rin constantly offered to get her anything that was on her mind. All she ever asked her for was an upright piano to be put in her room, but despite how infrequently she had to work, she never seemed to find the time to practice.

Whenever a job was given to Miku, she carried it out without question. A name and a place became enough, and she even stopped wondering about the lives lying behind the both of them that she would soon erase. They probably wanted her to take pride in her work, but she carried it out mechanically, with efficiency but not a hint of passion. In the end, that must have been enough to satisfy them, even enough to consider her a top assassin.

That was why Miku wasn't entirely surprised to hear Rin one day give her the name of a nobleman:

Don Fausto Marciano. Capofamilia.


A/N: Wow. My longest chapter yet, and I didn't even advance the plot. A little ironic, no?

Anyway, I apologize for the delay on this, but midterms caught up with me and made editing and such a little more difficult. I hope the next update won't take as long, though.

Tesora, carissimo, ciccina: literally "treasure," "dearest," and "fat one" (though contextually its meaning is much, much closer to "darling") respectively, though I group them all together here because they're all just common Italian terms of endearment.

Compagnia: company or union. The idea here was inspired by actual 19th century Sicilian law enforcement groups called "companies-at-arms," which were untrained supplements to police forces (often made up of former criminals) that would take back stolen property from thieves in exchange for a fee from the victims.

Also, aficionados of the Sicilian Cosa Nostra group might recognize Miku's initiation rite as directly inspired by the initiation ceremony described by the mafioso Giovanni Brusca following his arrest.