She sat swinging her legs back and forth on the bed while the boy paced around the room, deep into whatever thoughts he had. Their things lay over in the corner of the room and the air conditioning almost chilled her as she watched.

The girl could somewhat tell what he was thinking though, they were twins after all. "Where's that list Mr. Verrocchio gave us?" she asked. He stopped, glanced over, and took the slip of paper from his coat pocket, fumbling with it.

"It's small..." she murmured, "I thought pirates had a lot of people in their crews or whatever," the boy plopped down next to her and opened it up. The paper was out of a notebook listing four names.

"What kind of name is Rock?" the boy said.

The girl chuckled at that, then said, "These...Revy and Dutch people are the fighters. Only two to worry about, but they must have a big reputation, very...dangerous people."

"Definitely," was all he said back as he studied the descriptions of the Lagoon company, "The way they describe this Benny...what do they mean by calling him a fairy?"

"I dunno, like he's on drugs?"

"Good for us, he won't be all there."

They studied and planned further; the address was on the paper so all the two had to do was ask permission to go right then. But going in axe and guns galore all willy nilly is what leads to dying stupid and young.

The two always remembered, their enemies were everywhere, from all corners, and when they found the children, they would kill them or worse, but first they must catch them. Their appearances and affinity towards stealth was enough to catch any adult unaware. Yet as the bodies stacked up, as did their own reputation, the fear never left either of them.

"We'll have to go in alone I assume," the boy said.

"Of course we will," the girl huffed, brushing her hair back. The boy looked at her. "What?"

"Where did that come from?"

She shook her head, "Sorry, I...it's just he made it so obvious that we were to be...well...distractions. Like towards some big master plan he has. I think he was enjoying himself."

The boy put his hand on her shoulder, "It'll be okay. We've been in tough spots before Sora Mea."

"I know but..." she turned her head away for a second, "never mind, I'm more worried about what he and his goons are talking about."

"Probably something about the Russians and the Triads if I had to guess," the boy shrugged. He stood back up and resumed his pacing as they continued to talk. "Though he might be talking about us...I bet that's exactly what they're talking about," the boy stopped and looking at her. He looked grim, "We need a way to know, darn it," he squeezed his right fist in his left hand.

The girl watched him, and then crossed her legs and placed her fingers to her chin. It was tic she often did when deep in thought. "There has to be a way to listen in...but it'll be real dangerous if we try, but then again..."

"We're used to that," the boy finished.

The sun was half-setting over the horizon at this point. Their venture about the city with their so-called benefactor had taken them all day. Their lettered bags lay next to the beds, the pistol still inside his bag.

Going to the window, the boy watched the outside. The street was devoid of life with streetlamps even busted out, some flickering like a fleeting candle on a dreary night. The girl stood and walked behind him; her steps obvious.

"It's pretty," the girl said as she looked over his shoulder to the outside sunset. She flipped her long hair back, a small smile on her face.

"Yes, it is," the boy drummed his fingers against the frame. "Not really related to what we're up to though-"

"Oh, but it is! I have an idea."

"...What?"

She frowned, "Don't you have faith in your own Sora? come on Fratele meu, believe in me for once."

"I do but...okay, what is it?"

The girl moved him away from the window and slid it up, the panel was surprisingly wide. Enough to fit a large object, or a small person. The boy grabbed her arm, "No."

"Huh?"

"I said no."

"And just what other option do we have?"

He shook his head, "It's a two story drop and what if you're seen? what if there isn't even a window looking in on them? come on, you know better."

"Oh I'm sorry," she pulled her arm away, "should I just sit in here and twiddle my thumbs until that pig decides otherwise? we have to know; this isn't like back home. Verrocchio said that much himself."

"Sora...it's dangerous, really dangerous," when he said the second really, his voice cracked, and he glanced away for a split second before returning eye to eye with her. "You can't even take your weapon with you, I mean...there...has to be a better way."

"Just..." she took a step onto the frame, "wait here, for a moment, okay? Fratele, I'll be fine, you know I'm a good climber. Don't look at me like that." She stepped out and grasped a hold onto the large brown blocks that the building was made from. He watched her grab a hold of another stone and move out of view.

"Dammit..." he murmured.

A knock at the door a mere few seconds after she disappeared startled him. Looking back, his heart dropped into the cauldron of boiling acid that was his stomach. He glanced back at the window, then another knock sent him forward.

"W-Who is it?" he said.

"Open the damn door," a gruff voice said. Not any he recognized.

His heart sank into his stomach, his hands shaking like he was freezing. But he was sweating.

Taking a step forward, the boy walked. His boots hitting the floor was all the sound in the room. Wiping his forehead, he reached the door and stared at it. Then he placed his small hand on the bronze knob before opening it halfway.

A man, scruffy and wearing a suit stood before the doorway. Holding a bag of something as if he were a messenger from a time that was lost to history. "Yes?" Hansel said. In the case of them lunging, he'd kept a death grip on the doorknob so that he could slam it on them.

They stuffed the bag in his face, "Boss said to go get you something to eat, there's a McDonalds nearby so we went and picked up some burgers n' fries."

The boy blinked, "Huh?"

The guy scoffed, "English kiddie, do ya speak it?" the boy took the bag from the guy and held it tight in his hand. "What, you never had McDonalds before?"

"No."

"Isn't you supposed to be smiling or something? what's with the frown?"

The boy didn't say anything in response beyond, "Is that it?"

"Eh...yeah," the man regarded him with uncertainty, and he then looked over the boy's shoulder and into the room. The boy's grip on the two items wound tighter. "Hey uh, ain't there supposed to be a girl too?"

"She's taking a bath," he said it automated. As if he were a robot.

"That right?"

"Yes."

"Uh...okay then," he rubbed his head, "I'll be out here if you two need something. Verrocchio has me playing babysitter for you two so don't do nothing stupid."

"Okay." The boy closed the door. A breath that he was holding in escaped him like a bag full of wind letting everything out.

He turned and placed his back against the door. He drew in another breath and let it out. Then he got off the door and went over to the small table in the room and placed the bag on it and opened the thing. There were two cups inside with a dark bubbly liquid he saw after popping the lid of it off. Two little packages with cheeseburgers inside, and two things of small fries. He placed all of this out on the table, and then he just sat there, staring at the window.

"The hell are you doing?" he got up, the highchair he was in making a squeaking sound on the floor. He walked towards the window and looked outside. There were people there, though they had to have come after the girl climbed out of the window. A nearby streetlamp revealed a few men on the outside, one standing with a briefcase and the others looking around.

"Not good..." the boy murmured. They probably couldn't see this far with no light to speak of. The sun had gone past the trees by this point due to the forest on the other side of the road.

They were definitely a part of the crew, but what were they waiting for?

He fell back as a shape quickly dashed through the window and into the room. Catching himself with his hands he looked up and saw Gretel who'd landed crossways on him, "Ow...why were you standing there?" she complained, sitting up and rubbing her head.

"I-I was looking at...did you see anything?" the two were quick to their feet and they looked at each other. She was breathing heavy and sweating.

She wiped her head before answering, "N-No, there wasn't a way around and I had to get back before those men outside," she jutted a thumb to the window, "saw me."

"Well, you shouldn't have done that anyway."

She was looking over her shoulder as she got up, "Fratele meu, now is not the time for this. Let's see what they're doing."

He shook his head, "Right..."

A large dark van had pulled beside the road, and the two watched as the men went and stood beside it. They were speaking but the twins couldn't hear them. "Maybe this isn't a total failure..." the girl said. The boy shushed her.

Half of them went to the back and opened it, and from the driver's seat out stepped a rather strange sight. A nun, or at least a woman who thought she was a nun had stepped out from her vehicle with a cigarette in her mouth and eyed all of the men. She was draped in the typical dress wearing sunglasses even in the dusk.

There were half a dozen black boxes in the back of the car. The two men took them all out, the last of which one opened. There was a rack inside containing something, the boy leaned out, his head sticking from the window. Guns, rifles to be exact, probably automatic.

"What is it?" the girl whispered.

"Big guns..." he said. The woman blew smoke out, and the two watched as one of the associates handed her a briefcase. She dropped her cancer stick and stepped on it, then she took it in her hands and opened it. There was a lot of money inside. More than the two twins had ever seen in their lives. She smirked, then closed the thing and nodded at the men who'd finished unloading.

The weapons were gathered by the four and the woman seemed as if she was going to take her leave. She turned away, money in hand and started walking to the driver's side. Some of the men were leering at the nun which caused the girl to frown, and some were checking the weapons, powerful rifles among several types of explosives with names starting with the letter C.

Then the nun stopped, and she turned and looked up at the window so fast that both twins didn't have time to react. The boy grabbed his sister and ducked back. They both hit the deck once more and braced for the worst.

He was shivering hard, and the girl had to place her hands on his shoulders to get him to finally settle. "She didn't see us, she couldn't have."

"If she did...but what if she did?" his breathing was heavied.

"She..." the girl moved to the window, and he took hold of her arm. He was frantic.

"It's almost night and there's no light in here."

"She could've saw us moving, saw our shadows or silhouette's!"

"Keep your voice down."

Stupid, stupid, stupid. You idiot, you little idiot. How could you allow yourself to be seen as easily as that? allow her to be seen? he deserved nothing for a mistake like that. Deserve to die.

They waited, nothing happened. They waited longer, the sounds of their breathing the only audio. His hands fidgeting, her edging ever closer to the windows bottom sash. He watched her and looked through her. Please God, let it be him they do it too. Not her, not her ever again.

The sound of an engine piqued them, and the girl stuck as little of her head up as she could without having to stick her head out. He watched her.

"It's..." she said.

"What?"

"Driving away."

She was right, the car was roaring down the street and some of the men were smoking and some were bringing the equipment into a nearby garage. What lay beyond it was a mystery, but the two had a few guesses.

"So..." he breathed for what seemed like the first time in a few minutes, "she didn't see us."

"No, at least I don't think so."

"Okay...okay...maybe isn't great but...it's something."

They stood, him taking her arm and helping her, "Please don't do something that reckless again," he implored and shook his head.

"Oh come on..." she rubbed her hands of the grime from the brick, "remember the trees in Carpathia? this is nothing with them considered."

"This isn't a game Sora Mea!" he rubbed his head and paced to the middle of the room.

"Obviously. Hey," she pointed a finger, and he looked over at her, "you were watching those people too. I saw your eyes; you were looking at that woman's-"

"Stop it!" he said. "Let's just be happy we weren't spotted and leave it at that, okay?"

"Fine."

"What does that mean?"

"Huh?"

"When a girl says fine, it doesn't usually mean that."

"Who said that?"

"You."

They ate their food in silence. The burgers and fries tasted greatly unto played hearts with a musty old deck of cards collected in some town ages old.

He placed an ace down onto the middle of the stack and took a bite of his burger, and the melted cheese slid from the other side and dripped onto a napkin. She watched him.

"So, they have big guns..." the girl said.

"Yes," he said.

"For fighting the Russians, and the Chinese."

"Definitely."

"If...Mr. Verrocchio is so sure of their victory, why bring us? fodder?"

The boy shrugged, "They'll probably be attacking all the..." he did a spider leg impression with his free hand, "rackets."

The sound of the door opening drew them away and they both felt something crawling on their skin as a familiar face entered the room, a lit cigar in his mouth. Bikey and Moretti at his side like the heralds of their master.

He watched them, then took his cigar out of his mouth and dropped it down on the floor and stepped on it, "Where's the smiles at?"

This gave pause to each. He chuckled, "Looks like you kiddies are enjoying yourselves too. Is that a buncha cards there? what're ya playing?"

"H-Hearts..." the girl answered.

"Fascinating," he looked to Bikey who was rubbing his coat pocket, "fascinating right? anyways, you two come up with one yet?"

"Come up?" the boy said.

He tilted his head at the each of them, then shook his head, "Excuse me? did I hear a question instead of an answer?"

"I..." the boy shifted in his seat and Verrocchio snapped his fingers and his two made men pulled pistols out at the both of them. They froze.

"When I tell you to move, I'll tell you to move. Understood?"

"Y-Yes...sir. Mr. Verrocchio."

He smirked, "Now then." Verrocchio wagged a finger, and the two men placed their pistols in their pockets. "Please continue."

The boy felt his chest sink, he glanced over his shoulder to the girl, then to his 'master,' "We haven't gotten much besides surprise. But..."

"But?"

"W-Well, these people seem dangerous, more dangerous than...average. Especially this Revy and Dutch."

"And that's my problem how? figure it out. Kidnap that little shit weasel Rocky or Rock or whatever, put a bomb in their cars, or something. You make it sound like that bitch and bastard is unkillable. Let me tell ya, nobody is invincible. Everyone in this world is gonna die, and it don't matter how much of a badass you are."

Verrocchio watched them take the information in. "That's...never mind," the girl said. The boss glanced at her, his dark eyes shining. She shifted back in her seat. "I mean, if we are to off...them...then we may need more time to prepare."

The boy's hands were fidgeting.

"More time?" he shrugged and looked about the room and he was a passable actor. "Hey, fair enough, how does until..." he rubbed his face, "couple days sound?"

"What happens if-"

"I have a buyer lined up."

The air, even in this tropical city only a few degrees above the equator was cold. Verrocchio pulled a small box of cigars from his coat pocket, and it opened with rusted hinges. He took one out, then looked at them both. Each were completely silent and waiting. "But...hey I think I won't gotta do no transaction if you's two's rep is anything to go by, right?"

They didn't answer.

"Hey now, don't go and give me the silent treatment kiddos. Old uncle Verrocchio is just a businessman, and when an investment starts goin sour, you might oughta get rid O' the product." He took out a lighter and flicked the top and a flame appeared. Then he seemed to think different of it and took his thumb away.

He looked at the two, "Hey there...Gretel." He smiled at her, "could you do me a favor?"

"W-What?"

"Aw...nothing like you're thinking. Trust me I've seen you at work and it ain't nothing special."

Her foot started tapping against the ground.

Verrocchio made a motion with his finger, "Come over here and light this for me wouldya?" he held out the lighter to her smaller level and waited. The two men at his side looked strangely at him, then each other, and then they returned to their normal positions of statues.

The boy felt his heart beating in his ears, the girl glanced over to her brother and saw him. Then she looked back to Verrocchio, "...Yes sir." Each felt something sick inside of them as she stood up, her hands together and herself almost compressing.

She walked forward, her eyes rooted to the floor until she stopped, looked up at the man. Verrocchio handed her the lighter, she took it and at first fumbled a couple of attempts to light the thing. It only took a second or so for her to finally flip the lighter up and a small flame was produced. Reaching up, the flame touched the outer tobacco of the cigar, and a small trail of smoke flew upwards to the roof as they lit.

Verrocchio took a long drag on it, then he took it out and let a big puff of smoke out with a sigh, "That...feels better. Thanks, little lady."

She wasn't looking at him, "You are welcome." She was shaking. The girl then walked back towards the table and took a seat and continued to stare down.

"Well, I should leave you two alone to discuss that ole plan of yers," he puffed up his suit and placed the cigar back into his mouth. "I got a meeting with all the bosses tomorrow. Real double, triple, quadruple side shit. The Ruskie and all the others will be there. Before you go suggesting anything, that bitch's men and the triads will have a hundred goons round the place, ain't no taking them down without putting me at a big risk."

They didn't answer him. The boy was staring at him, he'd been doing so throughout this entire exchange. All he did was stare.

"Eh, you might wanna fix that attitude of your's. In a world like this, respecting the guy with the biggest dick gets you through," he waved his men out and he followed them to the door. "Welcome to the game of politics my little friends."

The door closed behind him, and the two sat there in silence.

That night, she was shaking, and he held her close, and she cried silently into his chest as they lay on one of their beds, the pistol close by on the table beside the bed. Sometimes he wondered why he never cried with her and thought that perhaps all the tears he had were cried away and never to return. All he knew was that she was his everything, and he would never let them hurt her again. Even if it meant using the pistol.

The men, downstairs, playing loud music. Their laughter, their debauchery. Men who were husks of humans. They had skin but their eyes held no soul behind it. 'And what exactly are you?' the boy thought to himself.

She was walking down a rectangular corridor, deep in the darkness yet she somehow knew where to go. There was something she was following. The sound of her music box, that was it. Violins, and cellos, but they sounded wrong. Reversed, distorted, as if corrupted by something or somebody.

They joined with her, walking with their broken bodies. So small and fragile, then again, so was she. She couldn't look at their faces, but she saw them even still. The echoes of a life that she'd known for so long and had only the faintest of one beyond it.

Passing the corridors, she came to the old woman's room. A fire in the pit, sending smoke above the chimney and the old woman sitting there reading to all of them, and then she was ash, and those ashes went to the fireplace, and there was darkness.

She woke to him touching her shoulder and the humidness of the room was made apparent. His shirts sleeves were rolled up past his forearms and she thought even through her haziness from waking that there was darkness under his eyes, as if he'd stayed awake quite some time.

"What're you doing?" she said.

"Sitting down."

"Shut up," she raised next to him and watched as he left the bed. She stood too, her dress sticking to her. "It's hot."

"Yes." He'd set out their weapons on the table, the BAR's clips spread evenly next to it and his pistols together and pointed towards the wall.

"What's all this?"

"I think I have an idea how to do this, but we need to get going soon."

"You do?"

He looked at her, "You think I don't?"

"I dunno. Have you told Mr. Verrocchio?"

"No, but I don't think he'll care. As long as we get it done."

"I hope you're right..."

He shook his head as she stretched, and he took his coat and started placing it on. "Be ready soon, okay? I'll tell you everything once we're on the street."

"Okay..."

"Okay what?"

"...Nothing."

Notes: Honestly I'm a tad surprised by how much I can write of just these two. It's been super fun doing the psychology stuff with the both of them, along with writing a character who's supposed to be like the biggest asshole ever. I've just caught up with the manga last week and it was such a fun ride remembering all the stuff from the anime. It's been like...five years since I've seen it so such a blast to remember it all. Anyways, next chapter it is time for our band of pirates we all know and love. Hope you guys like the changes I made to the vampire kids because I know it must be weird to see them not being the little psycho's they are in canon. Thanks for reading.