«» — RIN TURNS TO CRIME — «»

«» — A/N — «»

One Shot inspired by one of the versions of Rin doing this song. Neh! Not saying which (no bombing the surprise) you gotta read the fic to get the punchline

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I don't care what Len thinks of her; Akita is so gonna be the first 'loid to swallow a cellfon, when I get my hands on her. "Vocaloids in Prison" scrawled across Two-Chan, Zero-Chan, Pixvix, Youtube and Deviantart. Everywhere!. The imp put way enough detail in; fixed it so it went viral and look where we are now.

Rin blows up a storm of fury inside her head. She tears off her trademark sleeves, belt, headgear and hairpins; she flings them across the tiny cell, not minding that she'll never find half of it again, not with the dim light from the barred cell window. From the corridor outside she hears ringing footsteps, stomping along the metal floor of the balcony. A growling and snarling male voice grows louder, as it approaches her doorway, Rin holds her breath but the storm blusters right past her. Rin cannot help it, she feels magnetised, she is drawn to the landing; she has to know.

Rin creeps to her cell doorway and peeps out: to her right, in the direction of the stairway, from where the voice had come there is a viscid, sluggy, trail of melted ice cream; turning to the left, and the source of the voice, Rin sees Kaito plastered with ice cream remnants, like a fragmenting yeti.

« Wh … wh … what happened? What did they do to you? » Rin asks with concern.

« They all had ice creams and … they … licked … them. Oh demons! How … they … licked … them. [Kaito shudders ] They wanted to eat … me! I ran b.b. the ice creams chased me. »

He buries his head in his hands and totters away down the corridor; blindly.

Rin stumbles back into her cell and sits down on the hard bed with a crash, as she backs into it. Her brain is reeling, as her world turns.

Us 'loids doing a prison concert! Go feed cats to a dragon. Girls on a prison stage; set us divas up for the firing squad, why not. But I thought he'd be okay: Kaito was the first man to go out there, they had to go easy on a guy. Didn't they?

Rin gets on her feet, to undress slowly and thoughtfully, then prep herself in the foxed, old, ruin of a mirror that is temporarily propped in one angle of the cell; for her benefit. She runs all of the earlier performances through in her mind; it'll be her turn soon and Rin wants to be as ready as possible.

Yowane and Meiko, they were the warm-up act, but jails are dry so nobody worried about them going on together. But somehow, the prisoners must have swapped the bottles of water for vodka. That pair must have known as soon as they smelt it. Certainly: as soon as they tasted it, they would've known what it was. Those two must've dreamt they were in heaven; they cleared that alco as if it was aqua. Didn't take any time for Meiko to get singing ultra high and Yowane uber low. They sounded like a mouse n a bear having a duet. And that waltz or whatever dance it was. Oh my! I shouldn't laugh, but how they kept trying to dance, even with all those warders escorting them offstage.

Rin stops laying out her costumes, around the improvised dressing room, as she breaks into helpless giggles; at the memory of the ludicrous phantasmagoria. Then her thoughts move on to the next act and Rin sobers up with a blush.

Course it had to be Hatsune Miku who opened the main show; I felt for sure she'd be okay. She's been performing since forever. She's a real pro; I never thought anything could bug her. Oh my! Was I ever wrong. Prisons ought not be let have vegetable gardens; they sure never should be let grow leeks n eggplants. It looked okay: a hall full of guys holding leeks n waving leeks; just like the glow-sticks at concerts. Why'd they have to start thrusting them n pumping them and … ohhhh.

Rin blushes, covers her burning face with her hands and shakes that head firmly, trying to dislodge the thoughts rattling her adolescent brain.

Can't blame Miku for dropping the mike and running. Doesn't matter how much a pro you are; nobody is gonna stay when a hall fulla cons are stripping their butts n showing you their leek n two spuds. I ran! We all ran! Think Miku is still running!

Megurine and Tako? That was just sick. Singing back at her, as if they were a male voice choir; yeh a demon choir. Those words! — " Tako Luka … Tako Yaki … Tako Luka … Tako Yaki … "

On and on! Poor Tako, she tried so hard to pretend she was just a hair bob. Then the gang had to start in on Megurine too. — "Tako Yaki … Sushi Luka … Tako Yaki … Sushi Luka …"

Those clapping hands, those stamping feet; they blitzed her. No wonder Megurine ran off the stage with Tako hiding under her top. Don't know which of them was quivering more. Tako made Megurine look as if she was about to have a baby.

Rin drops the costume she is holding, as her body jerks with giggles that bring tears to her eyes.

What … what … is … wrong … with … me? They're my friends; it's nothing to laugh about. But if I don't: I know I'm gonna scream or cry. I wish Len was here, he makes it all so easy, but I guess he was right: when he said we were only kids and all we'd be here was jailbait. Oh! That Akita why did she have to agree with him and why can't she be here getting trolled herself? I asked her to come, she hardly looked up from her phone, to say NO n tease me. I can hear her now.

"Neh! I'll catch the broadcast. Gonna be such a show. See! Me n Len packed all your wardrobe ourselves. Sure, most of it is going to get you bombed but I snuck in the best costume and song myself. You just gotta find it … before you go down in flames. Luck!"

Did she really? Did Akita hand me a cheat sheet? She is my friend … kinda. Yeh! If any of us have a criminal mind, then it'll be Akita. So which costume? There's gotta be a hint of some kind.

Rin shifts her thoughts from the dire events onstage, to the needs of her green room. She casts her eyes over all of the costumes laid out: on the bunk beds, the chair, the fixed desk. Rin takes a wander around: picking up one costume and then another, to consider it then discard it.

The nightgown from my invalid scenes? From Paper Aeroplane n such? They might feel sympathy. Yeh n they'd be thinking of me in bed. Nooooooo!

Okay! What about I go the other way? Here's the black n red coat from Tokyo Teddy Bear n Black Rock Shooter. Urban chic; way to go! But then I'm just another girl in a hoody n a thug like them. Nuh uh.

Maybe they'll go for the classy model? It's always fun styling myself up for Senbonzakura and all those old world songs. Wouldn't want to live in a kimono but it is a look! Sure! The look of a princess in the slums. That's so gonna go down well — not.

Could I upcycle it a bit more perhaps? Here's the angel costume from Black Vow. They can't have many angels visit them here so they gotta respect that. Right!? They attacked Luka with sushi, Kaito with ice cream and even Miku with leeks; all an angel is gonna get is pitchforks. Neh!

So what is it Akita? What troll stunt are you pulling here? Buy me a clue already! Okay!

Rin swirls and tosses her way through all of the costumes of her varied career. In her mind's eye she places herself onstage: for every costume she dreams of wearing, some hazard sets the alarm bells clanging. It seems hopeless, a bootless quest, until Rin spots one apparel, barely even out of the costume trunk. Her thoughts seize on the performance wear.

No! That can't be it? But it has to be; I wouldn't ever pack that for here. It just weirds me out, having that here; it so doesn't belong! Bets that's gotta be the clue, though, let's see. Yeeees it's got a note in it. Akita! You're so freaky! You want me to sing in this? What're you gonna make me sing too? NO! That's petrol on a barbecue.

Rin drops the note and costume to the floor. She reels back with shock and bunches her hands together, over her heart, with her head tucked in. For a moment she almost shuts down but then the artist in her takes over. Her brain ratchets over the problem.

Oh my! Well; why not? Like nothing else works. All the guys went out in proper costumes n look at how that dived. Guess a troll like Akita must know how to worm her way in. It's not like it could be any worse anyways. Let's shoot for it. Neh!

Rin dons the costume, couriers the note to the band and then waits: to learn if she has clicked the trick or put a noose round her own neck. Gakupo will be done soon and then it will be her turn. Rin almost misses out on her cue: she hardly knows it is Gakupo coming along the landing. The mix of eggplant and matchwood slathering Gakupo make him more of a hedgehog than a man. He tips her a nod as he squelches past.

There is no time for nerves now: Rin makes a storming entrance down the stairs and across the stage: as she rips into the tune of Secret Police. Her mind gasps: as she powers through the dance and commands both stage and crowd … in her skimpy, skintight, schoolgirl, swimsuit.

Wow! It's working! They're liking the song. They're being good n watching me. Akita was right. Len was right. I really am the jailbait.