A/n: New Vocaloid fanfic. Of course. Because I don't have a buttload of unfinished ones orz.

Disclaimer: I own nothing

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Bullet Shells and Pigtails

Prologue:

Tendrils of pink hair that could not be tamed by a ponytail flew every which way, some strands sticking to a tan forehead, others falling into blue-green eyes. Short, fast breaths escaped the woman as she pressed her back against a wall, shoving a hand through her bangs to get them out of her face. She closed her lids only for a second before they snapped open and she dove forward, rolling on the hard, cement floor before she came to a quick stop, slamming her shoulder against a crate so that she could be effectively out of sight. She ignored the throbbing in her arm in favor of holding out her hand. "Gimmie."

A scoff, and then a handgun was placed her in outstretched palm. "Impatient, are we?" said a man with a deep baritone. "Where have you been, Megurine?"

Megurine Luka scowled, plump lips thinning as she glared at the purple-haired man in front of her. "None of your damn business, Kamui," she retorted to her colleague. If she could call him that. Yeah, they worked together, but their occupation was rather unethical...

Not that she or Kamui Gakupo would have it any other way, of course.

"Shut it, kids," came another masculine voice from behind Kamui. A man with pink hair and teal eyes glared at the two of them. "Or else I'm turning this car around."

Megurine Luki. Luka's cousin, and boss of this operation.

Kamui stuck his tongue out at the other man in a decidedly childish manner, flicking his long hair out of his face like Luka had done a few minutes prior. He straightened his back, broad shoulders making the cramped space even more difficult to stay situated in, given the fact three grown adults were trying to huddle together.

"What's the plan, Boss?" Luka asked, shoving Kamui out of her way a bit so she could lean closer to her cousin, who smirked at her.

He shrugged. "Same as always. We go in, and show them that London still belongs to the Vocaloids."

Because it was always that simple.

The Vocaloids. AKA, one of the biggest organized crime operation of their generation, spreading out all over Europe, and even the Easter islands. Run by a faceless leader affectionately referred to as "Master." The gang that awed many and was feared by all.

Luka's home. Her family.

The female pinkette shook her head, frowning. "You're too confident, Luki," she murmured. The man was looking around the corner, clearly not listening to her. "You're going to get yourself killed like this."

He turned back to her, giving her a shit-eating grin and a wink. "And you need to get that stick out of your ass, Lu-Lu," he retorted, the affectionate pet name and statement making Luka bristle and blush. She bit her tongue to keep from lashing out at the older (though, only by a year), knowing it was important to keep quiet.

"Idiot," she whispered harshly, hearing Kamui chuckle from beside her. She glared at him, pulling her black sweater further around her form, partially covering the teal t-shirt she wore. Her gang's trademark color. Her ripped jeans were being dirtied on the ground, but she paid them no mind. It wasn't like clothing was an important thing to her, anyway, if her worn-out, over-loved combat boots had anything to say about it.

"C'mon." Luki cocked his own gun, raising it carefully while abandoning his hiding spot while the other two followed. Slowly, they made their way to an abandoned warehouse, when their rivals, the ReVamps.

Yep. Their headquarters were in a warehouse. Could they get anymore cliched?

While the Vocaloid's enemy were overdone, they were a threat. Both gangs had originated here in London around the same time, both expanding hard and fast. Both trying to destroy each other every chance they got. And neither minded playing dirty.

Which was why Master had sent Luki and the others, the aforementioned pink-haired male being his right-hand man. London was their base of operation, and the ReVamps needed to get the fuck out.

Easier said than done, of course.

The three stayed completely silent. Luka wondered if her companions were even breathing some of the time. As mentally-impaired Kamui and Luki made themselves out to be sometimes, she had to hand it to them, they were pretty damn good at their jobs. Just like she was.

It was dark outside, and it made the journey to the back entrance so much more complicated. Eventually, they made it inside, prepared for the attack waves and bullets.

But they didn't come.

The trio gave each other suspicious looks. Where were they?

Quietly, cautiously, they crept around desks, papers strewn across the floor, dirty magazines and provocative tapes. Ugh. The ReVamps seriously needed maid service.

The first floor was eerily empty. With a nod from Luki, the Vocaloid member toed up the stairs, waiting, prepared for an inevitable ambush.

The second floor was as dead as the first.

It was when they got to the third floor when they got really antsy.

"Where are those fuckers?" Kamui growled, checking his gun so he had something to do. Luka shushed him angrily, but Luki only sighed.

"I don't know," he admitted. "Do you think they bailed?"

Luka shook her head, lips tugging down at the corners. "No," she said. "We know better than that." The ReVamps were a lot of things, but they certainly weren't cowards. So—?

The red, blinking light startled her; she barely caught it in her peripheral vision. Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to scream that it was a trap, but she was suddenly both blind and deaf and, oh, was she still in one piece...?

–

She woke up with a groan, sore in all the wrong places and forcibly sat rigidly on an uncomfortable chair. "Wha—?"

"Quiet."

Slowly, Luka opened her eyes. Shit.

It had been a trap.

And they'd walked right into it.

Standing in front of her were goons from the ReVamps. Of course. They stood in all their glory, probably about a dozen of them surrounding her, all wearing some sort of the color red. Looking to her left, she saw Kamui and Luki, both tied up in a chair, just like she did, and both conscious. She let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. At least they were alive.

For now.

She creased her eyebrows together, trying to banish the pessimistic thoughts.

"So."

Her eyes darted up, towards a woman with blue hair. She wore an uncharacteristic goofy smile as she paced in front of them. She was weaponless, hands folded behind her back. She looked so comfortable. It made Luka want to shoot her in the face. "Did you guys really think you could destroy us all by yourself?"

From her side, she heard Luki laugh, and looked over at him in time to see him spit towards the girl. "Maybe not all of you," the pink-haired male growled, "But at the very least, we could off you and leave before blowing our asses off, Kaiko."

A pause. Then the woman named Kaiko giggled. "Funny," she laughed. "Didn't Luka tell you that you were too confident, Luki?"

At the mention of her name, Luka tensed. Double shit. These assholes had been spying on them the whole time. Playing them.

And they fucking fell for it!

"It's hard not to be confident when your me, darling," Luki drawled, egoistical smirk still in place. But Luka could tell. She could tell he wasn't feeling as headstrong as he let on.

"Oh?" Kaiko spun in a circle, stopping when she was in front of her rival. "Well," she said, "Let's see if your ego stands true when I cut out your heart."

Suddenly, Kaiko was on the ground. She was screaming and wailing. Kamui had gotten out of his binding somehow while she'd been distracted, and he was now beating the living hell out of her. The ReVamps jumped into action, but Kamui was quicker, cutting both Luki and Luka loose.

The three stood in a semi-circle, backs facing each other. They were all weaponless, how could they get out of here...?

Kamui grabbed Luka's hand, squeezing. She didn't turn to look at him, but squeezed back to show she was listening. "Get the boss out of here," he whispered. "I can take care of these goons."

Luka narrowed her eyes, not believing him, but knowing it was for the best. She let go of Kamui's hand, instead reaching for her cousin's. "On three, we're flying out of here like bats out of hell. Got it?" Luki's grip tensed.

She tapped his finger against his wrist. One.

Again. Two.

Finally, she hit three, and they bolted. She glanced over her shoulder once to see Kamui nail a male brunette in the nose before disarming him, taking his gun.

The pinkettes sprinted, turning down hallways and sliding down stair banisters, avoiding their enemies the best that they could. Luka had no idea where they were—never mind how they could get out.

A man in red stood in front of them, and Luki leaped forward, tacking him into the ground and snapping his neck. He plucked his weapon from his hands, then turned to face his partner. "There," he said, "Now we have a semblance of protection."

Luka smiled at him, but their celebration was short-lived as three others came barreling out of a doorway. Another two came back around from the hallway Luka and Luki had just exited.

Triple shit.

Luki shouted out obscenities before yelling at Luka to hit the floor. She did so without question, putting her hands over her head as she listened to the gunshots fired, the groans and gurgles and shouts of those being hit, of those dying. She gritted her teeth, telling herself she'd hardened her heart and had gotten used to these sounds so long ago.

Finally, the wave of bullets stopped, and Luka peeked up at her cousin, who was standing bloodied, but victorious. Rising up, she sighed deeply as her boss grinned. They heard a whoop, and Kamui was running towards them, laughing deeply.

"These guys suck," the tallest man whistled, coming to a halt beside his group. "I mean, I took out at least ten of these guys with minimal wounds!" Kamui boasted happily. His smile soon went south when he noticed something.

Luka turned toward her cousin and barely held back a shriek. There was Luki—strong, indepent, confident Luki—kneeling on the ground clutching his chest.

"Th-Those bastards," he coughed weakly, pulling back his hand. His palm was painted red. The color of the ReVamps. The color of blood. "Got me good." He smirked. "Right where my heart would be, if I had one."

"No," Luka said, dropping down next to them. "They didn't get you there. You'd be dead already." Though, judging from the amount of blood leaving his body, they'd hit something important.

But... nothing that could kill him.

Right?

They couldn't have.

–

Three days later.

It was Luki's funeral. But Luka couldn't attend. Master wanted to see her, and she was his new right-hand man.

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A/n: Soooo... whatcha guys think? Yeah. Gang violence. My brother lets me play too much xbox.

Review if you want me to continue!