Note: This told at a point when Megurine Luka is around 14-15 years old. Thanks for reading, and I would love if you left a review.

A hand fell on her desk, and it was the start of everything. The hand had a ticket, a pink ticket that was encircled by thin fingers. She looked up at him, her chin resting in her palm, her blue eyes followed up his arm to his bony face. She held his eyes for a few moments, eyes of pale hazel. A small smile quirked the ends of her lips and she tilted her head slightly to left.

"I'm going to a concert," the owner of the eyes and hand said.

"I can guess whose," she said quietly.

"Yours, Luka. I got myself a ticket!" the owner said excitedly.

Luka nodded, the smile growing into a grin. "I'm glad."

He went back to his desk then, stealing glances at the girl over his shoulder. Pink, straight hair and bangs that covered her forehead. A red tie, white button up shirt, black skirt, black stockings, black shoes: her school outfit. Luka was a marvel, a wonder. The only one in her class who actually had concerts.

The only one who was held by this boy in a trap as dangerous as a spider's.

Luka had met this boy a year earlier, and they had been practically inseparable since then. She gave him anything he wanted, anything at all. It was a dangerous game she played, indeed, dancing around with this boy as he asked her favors and she flew off to do them. Luka was what he wanted her to be, similar to a machine with a good voice, programmed and controlled by the boy that held her by her strings. Her heart strings.

In her mind, she truly believed he loved her.

The show was over.

Breathing heavily, Luka stepped off the stage, sweat glistening on her forehead and cheeks. She wiped it off absentmindedly with her hand. Her hair was starting to frizz, she noticed, and went on a quest to see if there was a mirror anywhere backstage. When she found one, she combed her fingers through her hair, ripping the tangles from the pink strands.

He almost materialized behind her.

She jumped, gasping, turning to look at him. He stood awkwardly, smiling in a way that left her slightly uncomfortable. "D-Did you like the show?" she managed, backing against the desk. Something was wrong.

"Of course, Luka, I love all of your shows," he said, taking a step forward. "Luka…I…" he paused, locking his eyes with hers. She looked down uncomfortably.

"I…" he swept in towards her, taking her hands in his. They didn't feel right: too cold and clammy. She wanted to shrink away, but he held her tight in his grip. "Come with me," he said, taking a firm hold of one of wrists and pulling her off backstage.

She didn't know where they were going, but she walked along obediently. Like a kitten following its master. The night was freezing cold and it wrapped its icy fingers all around Luka. He turned to her. They were totally surrounded by darkness, and the hairs on the back of Luka's neck prickled.

"Here," he said, and Luka heard a slightly crinkling. "Close your eyes, Luka, I have a present for you."

Luka did as she was told, and suddenly, something was burning her throat. Gasping, her eyelids fluttered, but he told her again to shut them. Her throat burned some more, and she started to feel dizzy.

"W-what…" she stammered, hands scrambling to her mouth. "Water…"

He laughed, a sound that tore through her ears and swirled in her brain. Colorful spots dotted her vision, and she felt the world swaying. He caught her hands, and then put his mouth against hers. He smelled like alcohol and other things she couldn't name. The smells were terribly pungent in her nose, and now they were in her mouth, preventing her from speech. The world flashed bright colors and she blinked, trying to make the colors go away. Everything faded, and she didn't know where she was anymore.

She woke up in the same strange place, but he was not there.

No one was.

And her throat still burned.

She tried to stand up, and after a few minutes, she succeeded. And then she realized that she had a breeze passing over her body. Her hands flew to her stomach, her legs, and her chest. All of it was bare. She had on no clothes. Eyes widening with the realization of what had happened, she crumpled on the ground, covering her ears with her hands.

And she screamed.

"Okay, Megurine-san, we'll start with some basics. When were you born?" an officer said, leaning back in his chair as he inspected the frail girl in front of him. Her eyes were dull, and she held a wool blanket tightly around her shoulders. Poor girl, he thought. I don't think she deserved what happened to her.

"I don't know," Luka said numbly, staring at her feet.

"Hmm. How about your mother's name?"

Luka shrugged.

"Are you a boy or a girl?" the officer asked, brow furrowing.

"…I don't know."

"Those drugs really messed you up, don't you think?" the officer asked. When Luka didn't respond, he said, "Megurine-san?"

She offered no comment.

I don't know if I'm a boy. I don't if I'm a girl. I don't know when I was born. I don't know who's my mother. I don't know how I got alone. I don't know how I got mad. I don't know how I got mad. I don't think I should get back. – "Secret", Megurine Luka