The forest itself had never been on any map, at least not officially; it had always just been there, just past the edge of the town, for as long as anyone could remember. The town itself wasn't entirely that old, but centuries ago the first settlers of the land had pushed the forest away from the plains, back over the low hills and across the river, and now it was just a line of green that happened to be visible from the city's limits. No-one ever really bothered with the forest, it being little more than a far-off landmark to which no-one gave a second thought, and aside from a few teenagers who came to splash in the river and picnic under the trees, the inhabitants of that nearby town generally just left the forest alone. It wasn't rumored to be haunted, and it didn't conceal the lair of a psychopathic killer... It was just a forest in the new millennium, once which had somehow escaped the logger's axe, and the people in the town had more important things to do.
This was part of the reason the Kagamine twins liked it so much. With nobody else around, it was somehow easier for them to exist.
Not that they didn't like other people; both Rin and Len were popular enough, with schoolmates and with adults who were impressed with their sunny, if slightly unruly, demeanors. But Rin and Len were not as impressed with their schoolmates or the adults around them, who were all so focused on rushing around doing boring, 'preparing-for-the-future' kinds of things, and it hadn't been too long into their lives that they'd realized their own interests were... a little different. They loved singing, for example, but they'd quit the choir because the only songs they were allowed to sing were standards, tried-and-true little ditties that their own grandparents could have been singing when they themselves were fourteen.
Of course, the twins had no way of knowing if their grandparents had been in the choir, if their mother sang like an angel or their father couldn't carry a note: Rin and Len were orphans, raised in the town's church like so many other abandoned children, and for as long as either could recall their only family had been each other. They didn't mind, of course, so they stayed close as they grew up... but, although they were attractive children in many ways, and they were adopted no fewer than a dozen times over the past decade-and-four, no family had kept them for very long.
("'Kept us!'" Rin would sometimes say, crossing her arms and puffing out her cheeks in indignation, looking a bit like a cute blond pufferfish. "Like we're puppies or something in a cardboard box!" And Len would nod in agreement, his arms folded across his chest.)
But, that was all right. Rin and Len, they had each other, and as far as they were concerned that was all they really needed. Well, there was food and such, and shelter was nice, but even then it didn't meant anything unless they were together, as the sisters of My Lady Of The Innocence had found out early on. The infant twins, at first, refused to sleep through the night unless they shared the same crib, and when they were a little older they wouldn't sleep in a bed at all if they couldn't see the other. This caused something of a problem when, at age seven, they were kindly told that as a young man and a young woman, they'd need to be separated sometime, so they would be moving into the boys' dorm and the girls' dorm respectively. That was the first time they'd run away, and the first time they'd found their way to the forest.
It probably wouldn't have happened if it had been a wet spring, but the rains had failed to arrive that year and the grass was, when laid out in the bright sunlight, beginning to turn yellow and sere. Lying on the flat grassland just outside the town, the twins didn't move as the other children, playing around them, began to straggle back to the church as the wind grew chill. At last, when the sky was sunset, Rin turned her head to look at her brother, lying beside her on the grass, the crisp dry blades tickling her cheek.
"I don't think we should go back tonight," she said, her young voice lisping childishly but quite firm in its conviction. "If we do, they're going to separate us, like Sister Sara said."
Len turned towards his sister, his boyish face serious and deep in thought, and then he nodded his agreement with as much finality as Rin's voice had held. "But we can't stay in town for the night. The Sisters are always telling us that it's dangerous to do that, because of bad men and... and stray animals." At seven, neither of the twins quite understood the dangers posed by those 'bad men' who so worried the nuns with their potential presence, but by now they'd already had a foster-family or two who'd taught them that not all adults were always nice to young children. And, as children still, the threat of loose animals, possibly scary ones, was enough to make them think twice about doubting their caretakers' warning.
Rin thought for a while about that, and Len thought as well, and then suddenly Rin sat up, bits of dried grass clinging in her blonde hair and to the gray cotton of her simple dress, and her odd yellow eyes - the eyes she shared with Len, the color that was a shade or so darker than their hair, but still lighter than the grass on which they now lay - and looked over the half-dried riverbed to the green line beyond. "We could hide in the forest," said Rin, and to a child of seven who'd heard plenty of fairy-tales that idea made perfect sense.
Len thought it made sense as well, at least most of it did, which is why his next statement was neither 'What if it gets cold in there?' or 'What if it rains?' and was instead "What if we meet a witch?" This question gave Rin pause, and she half-turned to look back at her brother, still lying on the shriveling grass. "Or a wolf? Or bears?" That serious expression was still on Len's face, and the matter at hand warranted it: Any child worth their bedtime-stories knew that forests, while potentially full of friendly animals and cozy hiding-places, might also hold hostile animals or wicked old crones behind its leafy green boughs. Rin chewed lightly at her lower lip, a nervous habit she'd yet to break, and fiddled with the grass under her hands; she couldn't quite find an answer, until it came to her like a bolt of lightning out of the now-dimming sky. With bright eyes, she looked down at Len and smiled. "Well, the stories always end with a happily ever after, right? Because sometimes the kids are really smart or they're really brave. So we should be fine because you're really smart and I'm really brave!" Rin beamed at this happy conclusion, then was surprised when Len pushed himself up into a sitting position looking upset.
"How come I can't be the brave one? I'm the man, after all!"
"You can't be the brave one because you got scared of the dark before," pointed out Rin, with an infuriating (to Len at least) confidence. "And you CAN'T be the man because you're just a kid."
"Well... You are too, you know," countered Len, and Rin grinned.
"But I'm still OLDER than you!" Len didn't look entirely convinced, but that didn't prevent him from reaching for his schoolbag and his jacket, rising to his feet, and dusting himself off before holding out his free hand to Rin, who still sitting on the yellowed sward. "Well, we should hurry up," he said, apparently ready to change the subject. "We want to cross the river before it gets dark."
"It's half-dry anyway," laughed Rin, although she accepted his hand and let her brother pull her to her feet; she could've done it herself, of course, but sometimes Len needed to act like 'the man,' even if he wasn't. Rin was still very young, but she knew her twin well enough. That's how she knew he wouldn't stop her form teasing him, and she did so as they started across the field, her own gray jacket tied around her waist by the sleeves.
"You're such a scaredy-cat!"
"Am not!" insisted Len, wrinkling his nose at Rin's sing-songing voice, and Rin only giggled at her brother as they neared the river, barely trickling over its stone-dotted bed, swinging her own schoolbag from her other hand. Len mumbled something under his breath that cued Rin to try, however unsuccessfully, to stifle her giggles, but neither of them let go of the other's hand.
Crossing the river was easy enough; although the current dry spell wasn't quite bad enough to be a drought, it was enough to see the river at its lowest ebb ever, and numbers of exposed rocks lay pale and dark above the running water, ready to be used as stepping-stones for any intrepid crosser. Len went first over the impromptu stone bridge, perhaps to assuage his battered ego, and Rin followed behind him, their hands still linked and serving as both guide and safety-line. The water, if they'd fallen in it, wouldn't be much over their knees, but neither had any towels or spare clothes and they'd both prefer to avoid an accidental bath. Once, Rin came perilously close, her footsteps not quite following Len's and an unexpectedly-smooth boulder-surface nearly sending her into the drink, but Len felt the tug and counter-balanced her almost-fall by tugging on his sister's hand. Once safely righted, Rin sent Len a grateful smile over the running water, the setting sun sending glints of white light across the tiny rippling waves and Rin squeezed her brother's hand in thanks; Len, proud at his quick and helpful action, smiled back, and led Rin across the rest of the rocks with a bit more spring in his step.
Once on the other side of the river, even Rin had to thank Len's insistence on a quick crossing; it was now rapidly getting dark, and maneuvering over the river would have been infinitely more difficult if they'd waited much longer than they had. The children made it to the forest's edge before they had to admit it had gotten too dark to see, and Rin nudged Len to ask if he still had the candles and matches from the service that morning.
(The Kagamine twins knew that stealing was wrong, but as Len explained it, since he and Rin both more or less lived in the church, then taking the candles FROM the church wasn't stealing, since it was kind of already theirs. Rin wasn't all that clear on the logic, but she knew that Len liked having some source of light at hand after the Sisters put out the lights, even if he never got around to using them. Len, thought Rin, was funny like that.)
"Yeah, I've got 'em," said Len, and he briefly let go of Rin's hand to rummage around in the bag at his side. Rin, although the moon was out on this night, realized for the first time that it was really, really dark, here on the edge of the forest, and for a moment her eyes strayed back to the town across the river, now lit by streetlights and the lights of homes... But, she'd been the one to suggest this after all! So Rin didn't say anything, just sidled an inch or two closer to Len's presence and waited for him to get the candle lit. A match scraped against the starter in the near-darkness, and then the match-head burst suddenly into flame; illuminated by the flickering glow, Len looked even more nervous than Rin, but even more determined not to show it. Suddenly, Rin felt bad about teasing Len earlier, and so she said nothing as he looked over at her and managed a smile.
"One candle's okay, right?" he said, as he held the match to the candle and lit the wick, which came to life with a slow, sputtering, yet steady light of its own. "We've gotta save the others... You know, in case we need them." Len shook the match out and dropped the blackened splinter of wood into his pocket, as Rin looked at him with a tilt of the head, her features visible within the candle's circle of illumination.
"Um... Okay." Rin had been sure that Len would at least light two, for the extra candlelight, but... as usual, he was being the responsible one, and Rin couldn't help a smile. "We'll just have to stay close, right?" And Rin took Len's arm, so that they could both use the light from the white wax taper as though they were a single person. Len, slightly pink, nodded and grinned.
"It's not that scary out here, anyway." And if Len's voice was a little shaky nonetheless, Rin didn't call him on it, as they moved deeper into the forest.
It became steadily darker as they passed deeper into the woods, but their backs remained turned to the river and the town, their attention focused only on the path ahead, and on the familiar presence at their side. Because of this, perhaps, they made it farther than they'd thought they would, but although both were looking for somewhere to sleep for the night, on all sides the forest looked ever the same, close-together tree-trunks with heavily-leafed branches high over their heads. It was strangely quiet, as well, with no sound but the sound of their footsteps swishing across the newly-grown grasses; neither twin could pinpoint what that silence felt strange, but others perhaps might have realized that this forest had no natural sounds, no hooting owls or rustling undergrowth, only the sound of the wind in the trees.
"We've gotta find someplace pretty soon," said Len, looking worriedly at the melting candle in his hand; the wax was already sluicing off the pale taper like water, and he was forced to carry it at an angle to prevent the drippings from melting onto his hand. The wax formed puddles behind them, small splatters of white against the darkness of the forest. That wasn't what Len was talking about, of course; he and Rin were more concerned with the candle than with its bleeding.
"Don't we have other candles?" asked Rin, and Le was quiet for so long that Rin's eyes widened with realization, and she gave her brother a little shake with the grip still on his arm. "We don't? We DON'T!" Rin suddenly realized how vulnerable they would be without any light, and although she wasn't scared (definitely not!) her voice was edging into petulant as she demanded "Why didn't you say that when we were back there?" Rin waved her schoolbag in the opposite direction, not quite sure if that was indeed from whence they'd come, but the effect was obvious although Len continued to look straight ahead.
"Dunno. It's not like you're scared though, right?"
Rin's only response was an irritated sound and a maybe-just-a-little-hard nudge to Lens ribs; were all boys like this, or was it just her brother? But Rin had to admit that she was probably responsible for at least this time, so she tried to not sigh and just said, "So we should find somewhere to sleep, right?" "Well, if you're tired..." said Len, trying to sound indifferent, but Rin just parroted that back at him and took the lead, pulling Len on with her as she tried to remember where the kids in the fairy-tales always slept while in the woods. It didn't seem like they'd be coming across any friendly cabins, or even houses owned by witches, so...
It didn't take them too long from there, and soon enough they'd managed to wander into a area that, as far as they could tell, was mostly clear of any brush. Fortunately winter was not all that far gone, and since the season had been dry the ground was dry as well, although the soil, thinly covered with greenery, was like ice this deep in the forest. Rin stripped the leaves from the nearby bushes, scowling at the ones whose branches pricked her fingers, and ferried the leaves over to Len, who'd cleared an area of turf near the roots of a large and gnarled tree. The branches were wide and overhanging, so it would - at least, Len hoped it would - protect them from any rain that might be coming, and it wasn't too hard to shape the leaves into bedding. It took a little thought after that, but finally the twins agreed to use their schoolbags as pillows and Rin's jacket as the sheets, and soon enough they were settled atop their makeshift mattress, Len tucking his own coat over the both of them as they curled together.
Rin, looking up through the tree-branches, could still see a glint of the pal moon trickling between the leaves; it was a very different sight than the one which normally greeted her tired eyes at bedtime, the wooden beams of the church's ceiling, and somehow the church and the town seemed very far away. Nestling closer to her brother, Rin's sleepy voice was almost a whisper as she asked "Is this okay, Len?"
Len, with one arm draped protectively over his sister's half-awake form, thought about this for a moment or two, then nodded. "As long as it's the two of us," he concluded, "it's always okay." But Rin, by then, was already fast asleep, and with a sleepy smile of his own Len gave Rin a one-armed hug and closed his eyes too.
The next morning, the rising of the sun seemed to change the entire forest; the twins, as it turned out, had found quite the pleasant little clearing, a vaguely-circular area where the sky overhead could be seen, and the same sky that had been sprinkled with stars was now a clear, bright spring blue. Wisps of white clouds drifted past above the tree-tops, and broken-up sunbeams warmed the air around the still-sleeping boy and girl, who had kicked off their makeshift blanket some time ago yet still slept on... until a light, ticklish presence by Len's nose made the boy sneeze, startling both himself and his sister awake.
"What is it... ?" asked Rin sleepily, trying to hide a yawn with one hand as she blinked open sleepy eyes. "Len... ?"
"Just a leaf or something," Len responded, rubbing at his eyes with a fist and yawning himself. "From the... tree?" Len's voice trailed off into a question-mark, as he held up the soft yellow petal, not a leaf at all, which had surprised him awake. Rin blinked at the petal as well, and almost simultaneously the twins looked upward, towards where, last night, the tree-branches had twisted high over their heads. Their eyes widened, Rin's with awe and Len's with not some small confusion: Instead of the green leaves, which the twins would have sworn were present the night before, the branches of the tree were bare, but wrapping up the trunk and around the branches were...
"Roses!" laughed Rin, reaching up and snapping one of the butter-yellow blossoms from its climbing vine, bringing it to her nose and inhaling. Rin giggled with renewed glee as she announced, "They smell like oranges!"
"Really?" Len was half-sitting now, tilting his head back towards the sky; the tree was as tall as he remembered, still gnarled and knotted, but now it was carpeted with the yellow roses and their green vines. Curious, he pulled off a rose of his own, sniffing at it tentatively, then glanced over at Rin with surprise.
"They don't smell like oranges! They smell kind of like... bananas. Or pineapples?" Len took another dose of the scent as he tried to decide on a single 'flavor,' but finally looked up to a staring Rin as he shrugged. "Or maybe both?"
"Maybe you've got a weird rose," suggested Rin, looking at the broken-off bloom in her brother's hand. "Mine smells like oranges, definitely!"
"Here, lemme try," said Len, offering the rose in his hand; Rin accepted it and passed Len the rose she'd picked, but then confusion blossomed on both near-identical faces.
"It's still oranges!" said Rin, at the same time as Len insisted "Pineapples or bananas!" There was a moment or two of silence, before the children mutually shrugged and wordlessly agreed to let it go, although Len did add, "Were these here last night, though?"
"Must have been," shrugged Rin, not seeming too curious about the source of the flowers as she stood and shook out her hair, then began gathering roses into her hands. "We just didn't see it 'cuz it was dark and everything." As Len stretched and got to his feet, Rin added, "Do you think the Sisters would like these?"
Len paused for a moment, then grinned. "I thought we were running away?" Rin pouted somewhat, her cheeks puffing out as she exhaled impatiently.
"We were, and we DID! But I'm kind of hungry, and I don't think we've got any food or anything. Right?" Rin stopped her flower-gathering for a moment to look at Len, who nodded in confirmation. "I think we're still in time for breakfast, if we hurry."
"What if they really do try to move us, though?" asked Len, and although Rin paused for a moment, she continued a moment later with a determined expression.
"Then we'll just run away again. It gets easier after the first time."
It occurred to Len that Rin had no more run away before this than he had, but oh well... He understood what she was trying to say. Dusting off his clothing and trying to smooth out the wrinkles, Len reached down to pick up his jacket, thrown aside onto the grass. Grabbing a corner of the gray material, Len's attempt to shake it out was greeted by a startled, high-pitched yowl that made him drop the corner of coat and back away. Rin, dropping the rose she'd been trying to twist off its stem, looked in Le's direction, but her brother just spread his palms in innocence - HE hadn't made that noise, and he had no idea what DID.
All was still in the clearing for several long moments, until it became obvious to Rin that Len wasn't going to do anything from here. True, she wasn't sure she wanted to do anything either, because who knew what was using Len's jacket? But they couldn't stand here forever, and Rin wasn't about to let a who-knows-what steal her brother's coat, so Rin steeled her nerve and approached the tossed-aside piece of clothing, kneeling down and carefully lifting one side up. Len held his breath, ready to either bolt for cover or rush to Rin's side, but his nerves were abruptly let down when Rin suddenly laughed, drawing the material aside.
"Len, you scaredy-cat!" she said, ignoring that just a moment or two ago, she herself hadn't been feeling so courageous. "It's just a little kitty!" And as Rin drew away the jacket, Len saw that she was right: A small kitten, with a cream-colored coat and darker blonde markings, was huddled under the jacket as though trying to hide from them. "Here kitty, c'mere!" smiled Rin, holding out her hand; tentatively, cautiously, the kitten edged closer to her, batting at Rin's fingertips with a little paw before venturing forward and allowing itself to be petted.
"First the flowers, now the cat," mumbled Len, more than a little irritated at having been surprised by the feline. "What next?"
"Oh, don't be so grumpy," Rin rebuked Len, although she was now busy trying to coax the kitten into her arms. "You're a cute kitty, aren't you? Aren't you?" Len rolled his eyes as Rin cooed over the cat, picking up his jacket and shaking it well; besides grass and leaves, strands of pale fur flew from the coat as Len flapped it vigorously, and it was apparent that the kitten had been sleeping under it just as Rin and Len had been sleeping under it last night.
"Len, look!" Rin was now cradling the kitten to her dress front, holding it in front of Len and lifting the young cat up so that Len could see... whatever Rin was talking about. "She's got eyes like us!" And indeed, it was true; the kitten, although so young that it couldn't have had its eyes open for all that long, had bright yellow cat's-eyes of the same shade as the twins. Len stared, not ever having seen the unusual eye-color in anyone besides himself and his sister, and finally smiled as he extended a hand.
"That is pretty weird, isn't it?" he asked, and neither Rin nor the kitten seemed to take offense; indeed, Rin nodded in agreement, still beaming, and the kitten allowed Len to stroke its head as Rin had done.
"We," said Rin suddenly, "should name her Dinah!" And when Len looked at her skeptically, one eyebrow arched, Rin grinned. "Well, she's gotta have a name if she's coming home with us, right?"
"Yeah," was Len's response, "but how do you know if it's a girl cat? It could be a boy cat, and Dinah's a girl's name."
"Well, obviously it's a girl!" said Rin, and Len, though skeptical, remained silent. "Besides," she added, "girls and boys can use the same name. Like how Jaime has the same name as the mailman's daughter, but one's a boy and one's a girl." Len thought about this for a moment, then grinned his approval; he didn't see any reason to argue that one, and anyway, both twins DID love 'Alice Through The Looking-Glass.'
Sister Sara, of Our Lady of the Innocence, was half-frantic with worry, although her exterior was calm: She had had time, over the past night, to regain her self-control, although she could barely sleep for worrying about Rin and Len Kagamine. The two children had become her special charges since Sara had joined the convent five years ago, had reminded her of her own younger sister who was now passed from this earth, and when the twins had been missed at dinner Sister Sara had been one of the nuns who had volunteered to go looking for them. Rin and Len were spirited children, and for a time it was thought they they were simply hiding around the old church, but when no sign of them had been found the police had been notified and a search had begun.
However, by the time Rin and Len were recognized to be gone, it was already too late for too much to be done; the town itself was combed, but around it was only the grassy fields and, across the river, the forest. Sister Sara knew that neither of the twins had ever crossed the river... but, knowing them, it wasn't entirely impossible that they'd wandered into the forest and gotten themselves lost. She'd tried to convince the Mother Superior to ask the police to search the woods, but the Reverend Mother had merely soothed Sara as best she could, then reminded her that the woods was vast and tangled, and that a group of people plunging about in the darkness could result in injuries and frighten the children. So the search was halted until daylight, and Sister Sara was hovering around the edge of the town when she saw the children carefully picking their way back across the river.
Unlike most of the nuns who tended to the church, Sara was still in her twenties, having arrived at Our Lady while still little more than a girl, and she was much more likely to join in the children's games, but Sister Sara didn't remember a time where she'd run faster than she did that day, drawing up the hem of her skirt as she dashed across the yellowed field. Rin and Len looked slightly worse for their wear, their clothing rumpled and still bedecked with a few stray leaves or twigs, but otherwise they seem unharmed; Rin even laughed a little at the unexpected sight of Sister Sara hurrying to them, while Len had the decency to look at least a little repentant. In Rin's arms was some kind of furry creature, which - as a winded Sara stopped beside the twins - was obviously a very young cat.
Rin and Len both stood silently, waiting for Sister Sara to speak first; as she caught her breath, she half-way noticed that the kitten was watching her as well, as though also paying close attention. At last, towering over the children, Sara shook her head at them with a frown.
"What children you are!" she reprimanded, as they hung their heads slightly in response. "Were you two playing in the woods all this time?" "Well, Sister Sara..." began Len, before he was cut off by Rin's earnest response.
"Not even a little, Sister Sara!" she said, clutching the kitten so tightly that it began to squirm. "Most of the time, we were sleeping!"
"And why couldn't you sleep back at the church with the rest of us?" asked Sara, her relief beginning to mingle with anger at the children for scaring them all so badly; she wondered, vaguely, if this was how mothers felt about their children. The nun had the satisfaction, if it could be called that, of seeing the children's shoulders droop, as the twins suddenly realized that they were actually in trouble.
Len was the first to speak, which surprised Sister Sara a little; usually it was Rin who spoke for the two of them, but this time Len had taken the lead, looking up at Sister Sara with his odd golden eyes.
"We didn't wanna be separated," he said, simply enough. "And you said we had to move into the different dorms."
"So you ran away?" Sister Sara was having some trouble believing this; it would have been more likely that the two had just gotten caught up in their own games, losing themselves in the woods. Surely simply being relocated to different wings wouldn't be so difficult for them? "You know, Len, Rin," said Sister Sara gently, wondering if perhaps she and the other nuns had unnecessarily frightened the twins, "it won't be all that bad... You'll still be in the same building, just not in the same room, that's all."
Rin and Len exchanged glances, then Rin picked up the conversation, petting the cat in her arms almost nervously. "But you said it had to happen because we're growing up. So sometime won't we have to move more and more away from each other? Right?"
Sister Sara paused, trying to decide if explaining the process of growing up, of finding your own life, was something she should explain right now to these children, but almost on cue the stomachs of the twins grumbled hungrily, and the Kagamine siblings ducked their heads in embarrassment, muttering "Sorry, Sister." That did it; there'd be time for talk later, but now Sara's instincts were telling her to get these children back to the church, give them a hot bath and a meal, and then work this out between them. Sister Sara shook her head, then said reassuringly, "Never mind about that, both of you... No-one can make you move away from each other if you don't want to. I'm sure of that." That said, Sister Sara refocused her attention to the small bundle in Rin's arms. "But what is this, then? Are you going to take this little straggler back to the church with us?"
The twins, assured that the dreaded separation wouldn't happen, now didn't seem too worried about any possible punishments, though whether it was due to their age or to their excitement over their new friend was impossible to tell. Instead of contriteness, Rin merely held up the kitten to Sister Sara, or at least as far as the small girl could reach, and said "Look, Sister Sara! She has the same eyes as me and Len!"
Sister Sara began to muster a stern retort, but the little striped kitten mewed pitifully, as though the young nun were about to scold the cat instead of the children. Sister Sara paused, and the kitten's large yellow eyes looked up to her pleadingly; the nun almost laughed, because the expression was so much like the ones Rin and Len would pull whenever they were caught staying up after bedtime, whispering to each other from under their covers... or whenever they got in trouble, really, usually over something Rin insisted that they do. Combined with the happy expressions on the faces of both children, Sister Sara gave a sigh of fond exasperation, and reached out a hand to stroke the kitten atop the head. The cat purred happily, and both Rin and Len looked hopefully up at their caretaker.
"All right, all right," allowed Sara, trying her best to look disapproving and not entirely succeeding. "I see you two are safe and sound, and I suppose that's all that really matters." The kitten meowed at that, and Len cleared his throat.
"Um, Sister? I don't think Dinah likes being left out."
"Dinah?" Sister Sara paused at that, looking down at the cat, who was now cradled in Rin's arms.
"Like in 'Alice'?" elaborated Len, looking a little surprised that he had to explain that as he leaned over to pet the kitten.
"Yeah, like that!" chimed in Rin, beaming happily. "Dinah can stay too, right?"
'Mother Superior will definitely have words with me...' thought Sara... but on the other hand, what could it hurt? She smiled and nodded, and the children broke into cheers, following along contentedly as Sister Sara turned and started back towards the church, Rin and Len trailing behind her like ducklings, with Dinah watching everything from her place in Rin's arms.
Author's Notes: Alice Human Sacrifice, multi-part per usual, adapted to make a more put-together story... so, nothing you haven't seen before from me. XD Let's see... Well, I love off-kilter fairy-tale stuff, so here's my go at one. ^^ This one kind of got away from me, though - Spent too long on their backstory! I should be posting Spice! : The Conclusion in my other fic, but the hard-drive with that file is currently in intensive care; I'm not sure what's wrong with it, but my techie friend is taking a look at it, although it's gotta come after the computer-stuff he's actually be paid to do. Anyway, that's why you've got this instead of that! XD