"I didn't know you worked in the dark." Chrollo's voice rang out. "It seems that would be more of Little Sister's style."

Her voice is dark and smooth, smoke-like. Machi's eyes flash in the shadows at the sound of it. "I prefer to work by candlelight," she says. "I found it unreasonable at first, but I wanted to make sure I understood what she was going through."

"I don't doubt it."

Machi didn't look up. "Why is that?"

"Guilt?"

Machi finally lifted her head toward the man across the room. "The others are much more subtle about it," she said, eyes flitting back to her work. "Just slight surprise, no crass commentary. But I can't say the same for you, can I?"

Chrollo gave a light hum of what Machi thinks might be a laugh. "I don't believe it was crass. Simply honest."

"I don't know. I wouldn't let any other person possibly speak about me that way.'"

That drew a real laugh out of Chrollo, albeit a quiet one, breathy around its perimeters. At the sound of it, Machi ran her fingers over the slender needle atop the table, delicately touching the sharp point of it with a fingertip. "First question," He said, the acoustics of the near-empty room sending his voice echoing easily from one side to the other. "Have you ever considered killing her?"

"I haven't."

He paused, not really expecting this. "Second question. Would you?"

In the glow of the candle, Machi saw Chrollo's lips turn up in a faint, vague smile. She suddenly felt the need to clarify with him. "With good reason?"

"It may seem obvious enough, but Feitan is enamored with her. This is more or less a test of your own convictions for the Troupe." Idly, Machi continued threading needles. "I'd hate for us to be compromised."

"Mm. That was the general idea I'd assumed beforehand. That is why I didn't want to bring her here. No one ever leaves her alone."

"Oh, good. Just as sharp as when we met."

She didn't accept or deny the statement, but she watched as Chrollo walked until he was right in front of the table, standing tall and unruffled. He reminded Machi of some regal, dark bird– a raven? A crow, perhaps?

"A question," Machi said, staring at the man's long coat. "Would you kill me if I killed Feitain?"

Chrollo's eyes are on her, steady and unyielding. "You know the answer to that."

"At least you're fair." Machi met his gaze with a noncommittal, lidded one of her own. "So there wouldn't be any other option?"

He hums again. "It would be in my best interests to stay alive, so I would answer no. But, I err on the side of caution nevertheless and say that perhaps there might be a way for our Little Sister to become a real part of the family."

"Not ideal." Machi crossed her legs and set her elbow atop the table, studying Chrollo's calm, unmoved expression. "I will have to think."