Len Kagamine was not a stalker.
Well, at least, as far as he was concerned, he wasn't, even if the raised eyebrows and teasing grins that spread upon his friends' faces when he snuck another endless glance at that cool, confident figure of Rin Kagamine's after having probably killed or seriously injured someone after skipping 3rd period again said otherwise (not that he noticed or counted the exact periods that his neighboring seat was empty, of course).
Even if he did secretly sniff the one pencil that she had left on his desk and had forgotten to return a month ago, and wondered how such a wild girl could have hands that smelled so good.
Even if he did (shamefully enough) occasionally have fantasies of calling her by her first name and high-fiving her like a good, familiar friend in the hallways.
Even if that book he borrowed from the library he took because Rin (he blushed at the thought of calling her first name so intimately) had borrowed it 11 times before, and he wanted to know what made it so interesting.
Even though he ended up just being stuck on page 154 for 4 weeks ever since the seat change that ended up with Rin sitting coldly next to the shota boy, the said shota boy sneaking very conspicious glances at the cool blonde leaning back in the chair next to him, face and similar flaxen locks hidden behind a certain page 154, thinking desperately of how to say "Good morning!" without having her stare at him like a complete alien.
Even if he was following her home currently, wondering if he should return her definitely-not-sniffed pencil 10 minutes into her walk back in a way that would not portray his already weak figure into a more pathetic one.
Maybe he was a little obsessed, he admitted, hiding half of his body badly behind a pole. Just a bit.
'But,' Len reasoned desperately with Kaito of his non-stalkerness, 'don't most people want to sniff their crush's pencils?' Apparently not. Though Kaito did admit to sniffing Miku's hair, just out of innocent curiosity on finishing his list of shampoos everyone used. "And that," Kaito sighed with a dreamy look in his eyes, "was when I fell in love with that teal-haired, leek eating beauty."
Len let out a soft snort despite himself whilst hiding behind a garbage can. Now that was what a stalker was, sniffing people's hair. Really. Len, a stalker? Not likely.
...Besides, all he did was follow her home and have hopeless fantasies of saying her first name and being best friends and causing agonized screams on 3rd period together. That was not stalkerish or weird at all.
Right?
Len creased his eyebrows together, a slight sweat breaking out on his forehead, the conviction in his words that he was absolutely not a stalker starting to crack. He wasn't being weird or anything, right? It was ok to have the urge to take a million pictures of Rin (Len's neck flushed again at the thought of being able to use her first name) whenever she stood over her defeated enemies like a lone, undefeatable mafia leader, right? Wait, no, Kaito was the stalker here. He mustn't get things confused. He didn't sniff her hair, like Kaito. Kaito was, in Len's eyes, a stalker, so therefore he, Len, must not be one.
...
Had he sniffed Rin's hair yet? What did it smell like? Actually, looking at it now, swaying in the breeze, it looked incredibly silky. Len's hands itched to run his hands through it, nearly dropping the sweaty pencil in his hands. He really, really, wanted to now. Maybe if he-
...
...
Oh god.
He was totally a stalker.
The shock of it made him fall out of of his hiding place behind the garbage cans, his leg dragging the can itself down with a deafening crash onto the other ones, one toppling the other with an even louder 'clang' that made Len cringe. Rin turned around curiously, her hand on her bag, to see a sprawled Len buried under a garbage bag that smelled suspiciously like rotten orange peels, the garbage can rolling peacefully on the cement beside the mess.
Len, his mind racing, fished around in his pockets, then patted the ground for a familiar slender object.
"Ah!" Len grabbed at the object, and thrust his hands out to Rin's motionless body, like an offering to the gods.
"Kagamine-san! Your pencil!"
"... Kagamine-kun..."
Len blinked, his hands still held desperately out. Rin shaded her face away from him with her hand, as if the very sight of him was shameful.
"That's a banana."
A/N: Ok, so I'm not sure what I was thinking when I wrote this. Really. But I thought it came out ok, so I thought, why not, people come here to read this kind of stuff. Also because I wanted to make an uke shota boy Len because, to be honest, that's my favorite version of him. If you're crying from the badness of this already, it's only going to get worse. *bananas and dreams of agonized screams intensify*