Every morning at a quarter until six, I would walk across the street and two buildings over from our home and venture into the alleyway to the back of a bakery. No one dared to sleep in this alley unless they wanted to wake to a broomstick being shoved up their ass. The Yuzukis were the kind of people who did not tolerate freeloaders or anything that could tarnish their business's name. They were seen as very strict and scrupulous people, which was why I sometimes wondered if their only daughter was switched at birth or adopted in secret.
I knocked on the off-kilter wooden door and was greeted with the stern face of Mr. Yuzuki. He merely grunted and vanished back inside, but the ajar door was his way of telling me I could come in.
The kitchen of "Yuzuki Bakery" was small but efficient. Already there were breads and cakes rising in the oven, and in the front the steady sweep of a broom mingled with the sounds of the fiery furnace. I pulled down the tattered hood of my cloak and let my disheveled hair down as I waited for one of the three precious friends I had in this world. As I heard her feet bound down the stairs from her apartment above, happiness swelled within me.
Yukari Yuzuki, or as her friends called her, "Yuka," held a bright smile on her face when she saw me standing in the center of the kitchen. Her purple hair was well-groomed and her dress always had an apron tied around it. A basket perched on her arm and early morning was painted across her features. Though she was two years older and four inches taller than myself, her vision of the world sometimes seemed childish compared to mine.
"Hi! Four months and sixteen days?" Yuka asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet like a kid excited for a birthday.
"Four months and sixteen days," I said. "What do we have today?"
"Let's see here." She scurried across the room and dragged a wooden pail out from behind a cabinet. "Ten scones, two loaves of bread, and a dozen madeleines."
"Nice. If I sell them all, you should get…" I struggled with the numbers in my head. "twenty coins, and I get ten."
"Exactly. I'm still trying to convince Father to split it fifty-fifty, but…"
"I understand. My labor is already expedient enough."
"Yeah, but don't worry! As soon as you get that place of yours, I'm sure I could get him to hire you officially! If you want to work here, that is." Yuka handed me the basket of the day-old goods.
"Of course I would!"
She grinned wider. "Good. Now, what's today's word?"
"'Ignominious,'" I recited in a haughty accent.
She frowned. "I don't think I know that one."
"I have managed to stump the great Yuzuki Yukari! It is a monumental day."
"You know very well that I don't know half the words you bring here! Make sure to tell me what that means when you find out, though. Maybe I could impress my parents with my colorful language."
"I'll do that."
Mr. Yuzuki entered the room with his quaking footsteps from the front. He didn't look at me, only his daughter, then walked right out. I decided to take my leave.
"Oh, Mayu! Did you hear?" Yuka called when I was halfway out the door. "The only son of the Kagamines just got engaged."
"Um, okay? Is that of great importance to me?" I replied.
"No, I just felt like it was interesting. You know, maybe you could find a decent man one of these days and get married and have dozens of kids and they could call me 'Auntie Yuka' and-"
I slammed the door shut.
One hour to walk to the affluent side of town. Another hour before the magnates hobbled out of their dens with their polished canes and brushed top hats. Far, far away from the bakery, as the agreement had been arranged two years ago the day after I turned sixteen and realized I needed to be able to add more coins to the money jar.
The sun had peeked above the flats when finally, my first customer sashayed toward me, pure white cotton dress swaying at her hips and a laced fan blowing her bangs back and forth despite it being late winter. Her glossed lips formed a ruminating scowl as she browsed the sweets in my basket.
"These aren't from that Yuzuki Bakary down on Julia street, are they?" she asked with a neighboring countries accent.
"No, of course not!" I replied, matching my accent to hers.
There was a small nod of approval and a slight step back from hearing a voice from her homeland. "Good. They are a bunch of rubes, I hear. Let's see, I'll take four madeleines for the family. How much are they?"
"One coin a piece."
"Here you go, thank you!"
"No, thank you, Madam."
A very valuable tool in my trade was creating a comfortable atmosphere for the client. Convincing them you are of the same origin is an effective way to do this. Gakupo called it "manipulation." I called it "using my God-given abilities." He always shut up when I mentioned the silverware that "accidentally" fell into his pockets in one of his patron's kitchens. After the divine fury I gave him from that occurrence, he never stole again.
All but one scone was left in the basket when I dropped it off at the back door of the bakery along with the correct amount of compensation. I grasped my coins tightly in my gloved hand, having given up on the usage of pockets after they were picked at least six times. The clock on a wall through a window told me it was three o'clock. Two of my coins went to a half loaf of stony bread and another five would be whisked off by the time I reach our savings jar. Only two would remain after a half day's work.
The only doctor's office that would accept the likes of me was owned by a man named "Hatsune." He was a kind man with a kind daughter that sometimes helped out when her husband was away. The daughter's name was "Miku."