S'up dudes, and dudettes. This is a new story where Miku captures the heart of 11 Guys, but only one true lover. Can you guess the couples? More importantly, can you guess the main couple?


"—and that's why they should replace those cheap, run-down fences with lovely sturdy wooden walls."

"Ki-chan!" A mid-twenties man chuckled, not really caring about the hisses in the background. "I think Old Man Kousake can make his own decisions."

The dark haired woman blushed dark red. She smacked him with her orange clipboard. "Kenji-kun! Please stop acting like a child!"

Zatsune scowled angrily, hitting some buttons to change the channel. "Why must they flirt every single time they're discussing the reports?!"

Oh Zatsune...

Konichiwa everybody! I am Miku Hatsune, an orphan who lives with her younger sister, the feisty Mika, and her cousin: the scornful Zatsune! We are currently at our small living room that was a part of our very cramped apartment. We lived on top of a convenient store/floristry, the place was a letdown—making the rent cheap.

Anyway, Zatsune was watching the news on our little television that broke down every once and a while, and one of the many reporters: Kico Aoki (aka Ki-chan) and Kenji Iseri were talking about an attack on a farm by a wild animal but they seem to be in their own world sometimes. Zatsune assumes they have a thing going on but they refuse to confess, and if I must say, I agree with her.

Its no use hiding a love that is requited.

"Calm down, Zatsune." She turned to me still looking furious. Without saying a word, she went back to her cooking show and grunted.

At that moment Mika ran in, hopping over the patterns on the carpet.

"Are you ready for school?" I asked, fixing the bow on her shirt.

"Yeah, now where's my bentou?" I pointed to the counter as she ran to collect it.

"I'm going now!" She cried out, slipping her feet into her school shoes. "Take care!" I yelled back as she skipped out the door and hurriedly jumped down the steps.

Ah—I remember when I was like that. It was embarrassing.

Zatsune brushed past me, grabbing her worn-out black backpack and tying her long hair into a messy bun.

"Are you going to work already?" I asked. Zatsune was going a bit too early. well, in her standards. She usually watched some more tv shows before rushing off to work, arriving there late.

She turned to me, slightly pouting. "I know, I hate the idea too." Then she was going past me, again, and out the door.

I go to high school often, but don't mistake that as an always.

Mika is in the Fourth Grade and Zatsune didn't go to college and took a job as a waitress instead. I'm kinda in between.

Zatsune decided to stop her education to earn some money for us, and to pay for Mika's education.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't lonely. I'm sure anyone would be, unless they're neutral about everything.

Its not like I don't have any friends. I actually have a lot of friends, they're just very busy at times.

I plopped down on the creaky armchair with a quiet sigh. Maybe I should go back to highschool...


"Seriously, Miku, I want you to come over."

I played with the phone's cord, biting my lip as anxiety wedged itself down my throat. "Is he dangerous?"

I heard Zatsune groan on the other line. "No, the opposite."

I gulped. "O-okay."

I set the phone down on the table and grabbed my jacket. I took my keys and went out the door.

I dreaded every step I took as I descended down the black metal staircase. The wind was blowing my hair everywhere, luckily it was a warm spring breeze. Not really a breeze though.

I spotted Zatsune easily, her black hair was dancing like a tornado in the air. She was crouching behind a shrub beside the convenience store, her red eyes glued to a white colourful van.

I hurried to her, stuffing my hair into my hood. "Where is he?" I asked as I reached Zatsune.

She pointed to the van, or to be more specific—an ice cream van.

We saw a bobbing head, serving the little children in the neighbourhood.

He didn't look dangerous at all.

"Zatsune!" I cried, smacking her right in the head. "You made me worry for no reason!"

Zatsune, furious about me hitting her, glared at me. "No person in their right mind would go into this dodgy neihhbourhood in the near evening. We have to check him out. Miku, you go in for the kill."

I froze all over. "Absolutely not!"

"Why not? Just go over there and act like you want to buy an ice cream." Zatsune paused. "Besides, you're younger looking then me. That's a good disguise."

Several minutes later, Zatsune had convinced me into going in and pretend to buy an ice cream.

I tied my teal hair into braids, stuffing a hairband with glittering flowers on the top. I discovered, when I was about 11, that this hairstyle made me look younger.

Zatsune turned to me—her eyes slowly sliding to check me from head to toe. Her expression was neutral, almost bored.

"Come on." She beckoned at the van with swift movement of her slender fingers.

I nodded, pulling my hood down behind my back, the odd sensation of my stomach swelling up inside, bothered me so.

I stalked up to the unmoving vehicle with a shaky smile. A line was already formed by a few children who were trembling with excitement.

I got into the line, making sure to smile brightly and crouch a little to create the illusion of shortness.

After the line got shorter and shorter, when, eventually, I was the next person to be served. This time I got close enough to see his face—and, golly, was I surprised.

He was so handsome that it made my knees weak. His face was smooth, faintly tan, angular and friendly. He had a crown of dark blue hair that complimented his sapphire eyes, which had a comedian aspect to it.

Those pair of eyes sparked with life as he saw me. He immediately stumbled both on his words and feet.

"U-um, what can I-I-I get a pretty l-lady today...?" He asked with cute shyness.

Thats when I realised... "My wallet!" I squeaked, checking all my pockets until I found them empty and useless. "Uh, I'm so sorry. I don't have any money at the moment! So sorry for wasting your time—"

I stopped as an ice cream appeared in front of me, the smell tempting me mockingly. The man smiled at me with sincerity. I read his name card that was pined down to his white shirt—Kaito.

"I can't possibly—"

"Take it." His voice was solemn. "I don't see many beautiful girls come along."

I took the ice cream, stared down at it, and felt regret. I looked back at Kaito. "I owe you. Do you want me to do a favour in return?"

Kaito stiffened. His blue eyes trailed behind me. Oh yeah, the line. "I'll tell you via text." He reached down, snatching my wrist with his big hands. Kaito drew out a pen and scribbled down a sentence of numbers. "Write your own number." He slid his right hand across his left hand's palm.

I reluctantly did what I was told. After I was finished, Kaito winked boyishly. "I'll text you."

But I was already running towards Zatsune, my hands were over my mouth and my brain was foggy and blank; she looked surprise to see my flustered face and trembling body.


The trail of numbers written, with black biro might I add, on my hand mocked me endlessly.

It was just there—being a big jerk.

I didn't want to text him! But he might text me. And that's not something to be overly excited about.

I do owe him for the ice cream, although Zatsune ate it..., I'm still very uncertain with this.

Zatsune had her eyes glued onto the tv screen when Kico and Kenji appeared again. "OH MY GOD." Zatsune shrieked, falling off her chair. She recovered quickly. "I'm done. I'm so done with the news now."

"Why do you hate them so much?" I asked, raising a brow.

The black haired girl flipped her hair to the side. "Tsunderes are annoying people."

"I know right...!" I reluctantly agreed.

I couldn't bear to tell Zatsune she was a tsundere. And so is Mika but no one needs to know that...


"Pleeeeaaaasssseeee, Miku-chan! For meeeeeee!" A sulky voice wailed, the image of a blonde with blue eyes helplessly begging appeared on my phone's screen.

This is Kagamine Rin. She is a very cheerful girl, when she's not being a whiny baby. She is training to be a fashion designer and she already captured the interests of many clients and companies.

Ah—I remember when I first met that blonde headed midget.


A thirteen year old Miku wandered aimlessly through the store looking like a lost green sheep. She had been drawn to the shop due to the aroma of sparkles and expensive fabric.

The shop sold both clothes and materials to make actual clothing. It was a pretty awesome hangout for young and fresh designers.

Miku was busy being lost that she didn't see the shorter girl ogling at some patterned designs on the wall.

"Ouch!" The girl had cried out. Miku had began to panic. What if the girl filed a lawsuit?! The girl was whimpering as she rubbed her arm in pain.

"S-sorry!" Miku apologised curtly, bowing down low.

The girl had short blonde hair that barely touched her jaw line, a white silk hairband that formed a bow was secured in the middle of her head. She wore an amber coloured tennis tee with dark tights and navy flats.

She had a forgiving smile on her face when she said, "No biggie."

Miku watched her eyes slowly drift to the wall of patterns. "It seems to me that you have a thing for fashion."

The girl turned, blushing wildly. "I-is it o-obvious...?"

"Very." Miku chuckled as the girl's face turned redder. "I'm Miku. What's your name?"

"Rin. Kagamine Rin."

And that was the beginning of a comedic friendship.


"Why are you being such a meanie!"

I sighed before grabbing a nearby pillow and hugging it close to my chest. "Why do you want me to come so bad?"

The other line was silent until Rin's shaky voice reappeared. "You know Len Kagami?"

For some strange reason an album of donkeys with mohawks dancing to Katy Perry's Last Friday Night played annoyingly in my head. "...the senpai, with silly hair, who teased you because you wished to become a designer? Is that him?"

"Yup. And guess what he's doing here."

I could hear the crickets chirping. "I dunno."

"He's," she paused before nearly blowing my ear off, "A MALE MODEL WHO I HAVE TO PUT CLOTHES ON! GYAHHHHHH. Whhhhy?!"

I clutched my swollen ear as I switched the phone to the other side. "And what exactly do you want me to do?"

Rin sighed, her tone sounded both exaggerated and exasperated. "Because! You're good with people! You sway them with your cute face and your sugary smile and your politeness and your convincing words and your long hair and your simple yet stylish fashion and especially your—"

"Ok, ok, I get it!" I nearly roared out due to frustration. "Where's the venue?"

Rin's tone changed from agitated to on top of the world. "Hiyaha Corp., the one in the city. You'll find it easily. Its the one which is tall and wide with ridiculously shiny windows. You can't miss it. A giant satellite is arching over the roof too."


The woman glanced at me scornfully before she set her phone down with a clank. She pushed her overly red lips outwards as if she was ready to spit at me.

"Can I help you?" She asked with a nasally and uninterested accent.

"Yes you can. Where is the photo shoot for Floran Fashion being held?"

The secretary clicked on her computer before she waved her finger towards the elevators. "Sixth floor. First blue door. Can't miss it." She paused before snickering, "unless your head is as empty as The Sahara Desert."

I blushed scarlet before skilfully weaving through the crowds and reaching the elevator with zero energy. I am so unfit.

When I, finally, entered the sixth floor, I spotted the blue door almost immediately. Now I see what the secretariat meant.

The handle was cold, even as my warm hand surrounded it with it's heat. The second I walked into the room, a bright flash, indicating a photo has been taken, blinded me through and through.

"Kyaahhhh! Why?!" I yelled out in pain, cupping my eyes as I crumpled to the ground.

"Miku-chan!" A soft voice called out from the blur of swirls and light. Suddenly, I was on the floor of a room, and everyone's eyes were on me. A male figure held me with his delicate arms, looking down at me with his cerulean eyes filled with unbelievable concern.

...a...donkey with...a...mohawk...?

"Miku-chan!" He repeated with even more power. My eyes were now narrow slits, the light blocking my vision as I hoisted myself off before a small person threw itself onto Len.

"Don't touch Miku!" A surprisingly familiar voice scolded.

Len lay on the ground, holding his bruised jaw like a mother would hold her child. Rin stood, towering over him despite her height, eyes fiery and bold.

"R-Rin!" I exclaimed as I ran over and captured the blonde midget with my arms. She struggled, at first, but surrendered with a bashful sigh.

We released each other, and, by then, Len had risen from the ground and was staring at me. "Is this Len?" I asked.

Rin used to ramble on and on about Len, back in the days when we were around 13. She had 'fallen' for him and had believed he was her prince. I never knew what Len looked like, Rin gave out main features but it was relatively vague.

At the age of 14, Rin finally talked to Len, after many years of watching from afar, and blurted out her dream to become a worldwide fashion designer. And unexpectedly, Len laughed and insulted it. Of course me and Rin spent a whole night insulting Len behind his back. That's what girls do.

But now—what a crazy scenario!

Len's face became twisted with conceit. "Does Rin talk about me, a lot?"

I chuckled nervously. "More like insults—"

"And plans out several death scenes." Rin interrupted with a monotone voice.

The friendly atmosphere came crashing down, the air of menace replacing it.

"Maybe we should start the photoshoot?" The director suggested slowly, as if he were to get shot in the foot if he didn't.

"That's what we're here for." Rin said coldly, linking her arms with mine, pulling me away from the frustrated Len.


"Rin, I think you should...accept Len." I said, searching for a word to replace 'forgive'.

"How can I accept that brat? He spat on my dream." She said solemnly, calling someone older than her a brat.

"But he's going to wear your designs! He will advertise it to the city, the nation—the whole world! Aren't you at least slightly thankful?"

Rin grunted. "If he does an acceptable job, only then will I give him another chance."


Len stood stiffly in front of the camera, as if he was walking on thin ice. The staff were setting up the place, and no one seemed to notice the uncomfortable model in the middle.

Rin had disappeared backstage, probably stuffing her face with oranges. I felt very out-of-place, just standing in the way of everyone but Len.

He fiddled with his tie, he patted down his hair, he rubbed the faint makeup on his face, he shuffled awkwardly, his facial expression crunched up like a paper ball—he looked very lost.

My feet moved towards him, my mind completely empty. "Miku-chan!" He said cheerfully, hiding his anxious side from me. "Where's Rin?"

"Good evening, Len-kun!" I greeted with a friendly smile. "I think Rin is snacking on some oranges, right now. She does that regularly, especially when she's nervous."

"Oh..." Len trailed off, his eyes drifting to his shiny shoes. I bit my lip. "Rin doesn't trust me with her clothes, does she?"

"She—" I stopped before spouting any lies. I sighed, before making a big decision. Tell him the truth. "She doesn't."

Len looked at me in horror. I continued, "because you lost her trust."

It was silent between us as I grabbed both his hands, squeezing it, and hoping, hoping for the best. "Earn that trust back."

Len looked at me, his mouth agape to answer but I went on and added. "Please."

Len's expression changed; to determined and hopeful. His hands danced around mine, intertwining our fingers together—like a knot. "I will."


I'll end it here because this needs to be published and I don't even know how to end this chapter if I went ahead and kept writing. Review gets faster updates!