When Leo turned seven years old, his father told him that he could have whatever he wanted for his birthday.

"I can get you anything at all, boy. Just name it, and it will be yours."

That year, and for every year after, Leo requested books on the topic that had caught his interest that particular week. It wasn't until he was much older that he realized that his father had not been exaggerating as much as his then seven year old self had thought. The Krakenburg family, as he found out, was by far the most influential crime family in the city. It wasn't wrong to categorize some of their ventures as illegal, but more often than not, the truly dirty work was left to a platoon of smaller, less morally sound gangs that the patriarch of the family, Garon, oversaw.

On virtually every front, the Krakenburgs were unassailable. They could be charming and slick one moment, and ruthless and violent in the next. Any attempts to convict the key members of the family failed miserably, as previously declared testimonies were retracted, and evidence failed to appear. The only thing that kept them in line, and even still just barely, was the Shirasagi family.

A rare strain of a normally manageable hereditary blood disease ran through the veins of the Krakenburgs. Left untreated, it would lead to accelerated physical and mental decline, and an early death to those who suffered from it. Leo was considered fortunate in that he was merely a carrier, but his father, brother, and younger sister were all afflicted with it. The only known method to stave off deterioration indefinitely was a medication, taken weekly, produced by one company: The Shirasagi Pharmaceutical Company.

The Shirasagis held a monopoly on the product, that, without a doubt, could only exist because of extensive bribes for government officials on every level. If such a scandal was revealed, it would destroy the company's value and lead to years of jail time for its CEO, Sumeragi. Of course, legitimate proof of this corruption was also difficult to come by, and the only evidence that lay outside the control of the Shirasagis was a series of letters that lay in Krakenburg hands.

It was a volatile relationship between the two factions. Unable to be tried in court, the Krakenburg family's only vulnerability lay in their reliance on the Shirasagi Pharmaceutical Company to keep them alive and sane. Meanwhile, the only thing that could bring down the company was in the possession of the Krakenburgs. If either side broke their end of the unspoken deal, it would only assure their own destruction.

But the status quo would not hold forever.

"We are about to lose our only advantage, Leo."

The second son of Garon Krakenburg glanced up at his older brother, who had appeared without warning in the doorway of his bedroom. "Pardon me, Xander?"

"The new chief prosecutor. The letters that we hold will soon be useless if an investigation is called into the Shirasagis."

"Damn their influence," Leo cursed softly. The city's retiring prosecuting attorney was old-fashioned and short-tempered, but he was also stubborn and honourable. Incorruptible, as his father had found out decades before. "Do we have any way to blackmail the new prosecutor? He can't be completely clean."

"She. And no, she's untouchable. She's ex-military, as were her parents, but both are dead. No immediate family to be found. And even if the Shirasagis hadn't talked to her, she still hates us with a passion."

"I refuse to stay idle and watch you die, brother. There has to be something we can exploit. Something we can trade. There's always a way out. Tell me what you're thinking."

Xander suddenly seemed uncharacteristically apprehensive, his normally confident exterior visibly wavering. "Well, Father has an idea. But you're not going to like it in the slightest."

"You must be joking, Father. That's not a long-term solution! It might work now, but eventually the Shirasagis will get their act together. They aren't that incompetent. Can't we parley with them, appeal to their consciences? Anything else, before we resort to this?"

"Do not question my decision, Leonardo," Garon hissed, his voice layered with deadly venom. "I am still the leader of this family, and you will do as I say. Find a hostage, anyone of value to the damn Shirasagis, and use them to negotiate an exchange. Is that clear?"

Leo grimaced, frustrated. His father's plan was only a temporary fix. Even if they could kidnap a Shirasagi and traded them for a cache of medication, the end result would be the same as their current situation: A dwindling supply with no leverage left. "Yes, Father."

"Iago will assist you. Your role is one of strategy, not execution, but I expect you to secure a place for our prisoner to be detained, and to assist your brother in the negotiations. Prove yourself to me, boy."

In the end, Leo played no part of the actual kidnapping at all. His father's oily right-hand man simply brushed him aside, and with the minimal level of respect, told him to find a location to house their "guest." A disused warehouse on a quiet backstreet, straddling the city limits, was acquired without issue.

It was a few minutes past six in the evening when Iago's equally slimy lackey, Hans, pulled open the corrugated metal bay door. He was pulling a slender girl by the arm, a burlap sack over their head. She whimpered slightly as he yanked her towards a folding chair, and tied her wrists together behind its back.

"Shut up, girlie." He inclined his head towards Leo. "She's all yours."

"Hans. You didn't kill anyone or cause unnecessary injury today, correct?" Hans should have been convicted murderer, but thanks to meddling from Garon, he had been spared a sentence due to "technicalities." He was the Krakenburg's go-to man for illicit activities that required force.

"No… sir. No hitches at all."

"Excellent. I'll put in a good word for you. Now get out of here."

Only after Hans had stumbled out of the warehouse, gingerly touching his nose and grumbling about moody teenagers, did Leo take his first close look at his captive. He swiftly pulled the bag off her head, revealing a curtain of shoulder-length pink hair framing the face of a girl not much older than Elise. A handkerchief was tied around her mouth. Her maroon eyes, wide and blinking rapidly from the sudden reintroduction of light, flicked around the mostly empty room, and then focused on him.

She stared at him imploringly, and with a sigh, Leo undid the cloth covering her mouth.

"Wh-who are you?" she sputtered softly. "Wh-why are you doing this?"

"Your family has something that mine needs desperately." Leo pursed his lips uncomfortably. He regretted even allowing her to talk in the first place. It only poked at his conscience more when the victims of his family's actions weren't just faceless shadows. "This… won't make you feel any better, but it's not personal. We just needed a trading piece, and chance chose you."

"What do you want?" she persisted. "A ransom? What in the world forced you to go so such lengths for m-money?

"What forced us to go to such lengths for... money?" Leo repeated slowly, staring at her in disbelief. "Are… are you serious? Or just naïve little girl who has no clue how the world works?"

She seemed cowed by his sudden change in tone. "I-I don't understand…"

"This isn't about money. This is about life and death! My sister, my brother, and my father will die because the corrupt Shirasagi Pharmaceutical Company places its stock value over the human lives. Your family is the only producer of a drug that keeps Father from going senile at fifty, Xander out of a mental institution, and Elise out of a wheelchair! And now their access to it is being deliberately cut off, putting their lives in jeopardy because every member of the judiciary system from the lowliest bailiff to the prosecuting attorney is in the pocket of the Shirasagis!" Leo paused, breathless from his fervent rant. "How do you not understand the consequences of your family's actions? They are going to, quite ironically, kill people!"

"You're… you're lying! You h-have to be lying. That can't be… what happens. They h-help people, not kill them!" Her voice cracked as she stuttered weakly in protest.

"How much," Leo challenged, continuing to glare at her, "do you actually know about your family's business? How much have you been told about what they do, what they make? Their money, their clients?"

She was silent, not meeting his eyes.

"Well? Do you have an answer?"

She answered with a whisper, barely audible even in the deserted warehouse. "I kn-know almost n-nothing. But Father wouldn't… R-Ryoma wouldn't… be so cold-hearted..."

"They aren't the saints you thought they were, right? I know that feeling all too well."

(End of Chapter One)

"I'm going to write a collection of five short stories before school starts."

"Four."

"Two, and they'll be pretty weird and not at all romantic."

"I just found a huge inconsistency in one, so I'm just going to focus on the other."

"I could publish the first chapter before school, but I don't want to because it's all hot garbage at the moment."

"It's still hot garbage. I've changed three words in the past week."

Maybe I'll retcon some stuff later.