(A/N: Yeah, yeah. I should really update my story. But I really couldn't resist writing this one-shot that kept bugging me. Might be a two-shot though. Depends on the demand?
Hopefully y'all will like this story! Let's start! o u o b)
In his hands, Len held a teal comb. It had intricate designs on it; gold swirls and loops that emerged from the bottom of the comb and was distributed out into various directions. At the end of every golden curlicue, a small flower—a rose perhaps, settled at the tip of it. At the very bottom of the comb was a sharp, pointed tip that aided its user to insert any miniature items into any possible small hole in a hairstyle. That comb was pretty cheap; Len got it for only five dollars. It was a plain lavender purple comb. It was as ordinary as a piece of blank paper. However, being the ever so creative man he was, Len had painted a fresh coat of colour over the dull comb. Of course, he chose teal since it was his wife's, Miku's, favourite and signature colour. He had spent nights finding designs to paint onto the comb and eventually his hard work paid off when he gifted it to her on their first wedding anniversary. Though inexpensive, the effort, the work and love Len put into it had made the comb mean the world to Miku. He instantly thought, 'It was worth it.' once he saw the merry smile on Miku's face.
"Miku, do you like this hairstyle?" Len asked gently while his fingers weaving its way through her hair. He inserted a piece of yellow lace into the tiny hole in the French braid with the help of the comb's pointed tip.
He didn't get an answer; the lady just stayed quiet.
"Hm… She must not like this hairstyle… I should change it," he assumed, pulling the hair band and lace out of Miku's teal hair.
He then proceeded to comb Miku's hair again, untangling all the knots attained from the previous hairstyle. He smoothed down her hair and smiled lovingly at it. He did love her hair, and of course, her.
He gathered Miku's fringe and secured it in one place tightly with a black bobby pin. He took the remaining of her hair and his fingers did the rest. He twisted her hair here and there, looping it, and securing loose ends with the occasional bobby pin. His hands were swift yet were working in a refined manner. It wasn't a wonder why everyone requested him to do their hair on special events.
Finally, he ended the elegant hairstyle with an elaborate bun. He braided her long, sleek fringe and pulled it back, wreathing it around the coiffed updo.
He stood back, admiring his finished work. It was beautiful; she was beautiful. In fact, she always looked stunning-to Len at least.
"How's this, Miku? Is it better?" he inquired. Again, not a single response was given. He frowned, the crease between his eyebrows reappearing.
Annoyed, he pulled the undid the ornate hairstyle. Again, he combed through her hair, pondering.
Why wasn't she answering him? Why didn't she like the hairstyles? Was she already disinterested in his talents and what he did for her?
He unconsciously gripped the comb tighter, those thoughts agitating him and sparking a light of fury in him.
Over and over again, he did many different hairdos for Miku, each one better than the next. However, she didn't reply. Not a peep, not a shake, nor a nod.
He was unable to contain the burning rage in him, and he threw the comb onto the floor. Some parts of it chipped. To be more precise, the teeth and the end of the comb; rendering it useless.
"WHY AREN'T YOU HAPPY?!" he shouted, his nose flaring. He proceeded to yell out swears and curses, his anger unable to be controlled. He curled and uncurled his fist repeatedly. It was obvious he was doing his best to keep control his temper. His nostrils widened as he breathed out, trying to calm himself. What was the use? She still didn't give a response, not even a flinch.
He was shocked at how she was unfazed by it all. Her normally calm husband just burst in fury, and the comb she cried with joy over just broke to pieces and she didn't even give a damn. Len shook his head, sighing dejectedly and walked out of the room.
She had changed ever since the car accident that took place while he was on a business trip overseas. She seemed fine to him, however. Just a little pale, but that was it. He had quit his job in grief to take care of her. The doctor didn't mention that she was mute or deaf, nor blind. In fact, he didn't even say she was disabled! Why was she ignoring him? Was she tired of him already? It had been barely 4 years since they got married!
Deciding not to think any further, Len settled himself in bed, leaving Miku to her own devices.
Len dropped the chopped up leeks into the pot and sprinkled some pepper after. He then took in the aroma of the soup he was brewing—Ah, it smelled as delicious as he expected it to be.
He reached out for a wooden ladle that he had left lying on the kitchen counter and scooped up the fragrant soup. He held it near his lips, and tasted it a little, resulting in a scalded tongue.
"Ouch!" he hissed in pain, his face twisting into that of an agonized one, but only for a second. However, in that brief moment, he could taste the salty concoction, just the way Miku liked it. He let a smile seep through his once screwed-up face.
He poured the remaining amount of soup from the ladle and pot all into a large bowl. He had made a small serving for he had only planned to brew it for Miku.
Gingerly, he cupped the boiling hot bowl in his hands, grabbed a nearby metal spoon and hastily made his way towards where he had left Miku at yesterday. As he thought, she was still seated there in the exact same position.
He promptly turned towards Miku, grinning.
"Miku, I made your favourite leek soup," he chanted in glee. "Here, have a taste, okay? You must be hungry, since you refused breakfast again as usual."
His smile faltered a little at his own words but he regained his smile. He had to be happy. Miku might finally want to eat after the accident. Not that she didn't eat; she probably snuck some food in without Len's knowledge, or so he thought. Not that he knew, of course. It was just a guess.
He dipped the spoon and shoveled a good amount of soup. He blew at it a little, cooling it down. He didn't want Miku to scald her tongue like he did earlier on.
"Here Miku, say ahh~" he chuckled, sending the spoon towards her mouth. There he waited for her to open her mouth but she never did. It was pursed shut all this while and Len was starting to grow impatient.
"Miku! Please drink the soup! I spent all morning brewing it just to make it right!" he scolded. When he received not a single response once again, he forced open Miku's mouth, bitterly feeding her the soup. He wasn't sure if it was on purpose, but she didn't swallow it. Instead, it freely dripped down the corners of her mouth and down her chin. Slightly riled up at the fact she was rejecting his hard work, he fiercely shoved the spoon down Miku's throat and tipped the contents down her esophagus.
It worked, and after a few spoonfuls, Len decided to just pour the whole bowl down. If she didn't appreciate him and all that he was doing, she'd have to handle it the hard way.
He did as he planned to and poured the whole lot into her mouth. Quite a lot flowed out as she was unable to contain the amount of soup inside her tiny mouth. It stained and dirtied the blouse she wore and Len tsked in irritation. His wife was turning into much more of a kid than he was.
"Miku. Swallow it. Now," he ordered. Miku just stayed as she was; mouth wide open, an ocean of leek soup encompassed in it, some trickling down.
Maddened at her rebellion, he flung the bowl on the floor, shattering it to pieces. Some of the porcelain shards cut at his skin but he didn't care for that. His recent temper outburst overshadowed it.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Miku?" he hollered, acrimony dripping off every word like venom. "Don't you love me anymore?" his voice cracked at the word 'love', sounding hurt. He stared at her, hoping for a response, anything, but no. Nothing. Not a peep from her. Her head didn't nod. Nothing at all.
He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, his turmoil of emotions raging on the inside of his body. He looked down, ashamed.
His cerulean orbs caught sight of the porcelain shards, some small pieces stuck on to him. He winced, the pain finally getting to him after his previous outrage numbed it. His eyes flew over to the remains of the bowl and noticed that more glass fragments protruded out of Miku's leg. He gasped in horror, falling to his knees and inspected the wounds. He ran to the bathroom to get the first aid kit. Miku, his beloved, was injured. Because of him. And he couldn't have that, no matter how many times she had managed to vex him with her silence. After all, he still loved her, even if she didn't anymore.
Len enthusiastically sewed together some scrap cloth, humming their special song in the process. The special song was composed by Len and he had serenaded it to Miku on their honeymoon. Miku absolutely adored the song and sang it every day without fail.
He beamed at the memory and turned to Miku. He retold to her what he had just reminisced, trying to get her to talk to him, or even at least acknowledge his presence, but to no avail. His beam vanished in an instant, replaced by an expression full of sorrow.
He continued his sewing, this time in silence. Miku was probably annoyed with him, who kept humming that song, especially since she didn't love him anymore. His heart ached every time he imagined who Miku fell for. He shivered at the thought of her and the anonymous man engaged in a romantic embrace.
While he was immersed in his own thoughts, he accidentally pricked his finger. "Ouch! Dammit!" he muttered under his breath. Slowly, blood started to form on the open skin, and unbeknownst to him, crimson red stained the cloth he was gripping.
He sucked on the injured area, trying to clot the blood flow. He took one of the scrap clothes and wrapped his around his finger nimbly; he had to finish the dress he was sewing, especially since Miku had stained her blouse during the soup incident. He cringed slightly at the bad memory of himself losing his temper, and whispered a sincere apology to Miku.
He continued, his finger throbbing in pain. He couldn't help flinching once in a while; it really did hurt, but not as much as when Miku ignored him.
He couldn't stop now. He had been burning the night oil for a month just to try to complete this hand-sewn dress. He wanted it to be hand-sewn as he thought it would be much more sincere and romantic rather than using a machine, though it was more efficient. He wasn't an expert at sewing, considering he was a guy. However, for his gender, he was already working at a fast pace. Besides, this might help Len in a way. Miku might finally respond to him, and hopefully, with love.
About an hour and a half later, Len held up his masterpiece up and away from him. He gazed at it for a while, imagining how happy Miku would be to wear it. He laughed at the thought; Miku was quite the adorable one.
He stood from his chair and stretched his numb muscles, yawning. Finally, after this, he could finally get some proper sleep.
He spun around and faced Miku, a wide smile plastered on his face.
"Miku! I just finished this dress! I want you to try it!" he exclaimed, his eyes shining.
No response.
"Er… You're probably quite tired. I'll change for you, okay?"
No response.
He rubbed the back his neck nervously. Did she not like it? Or was she merely ignoring him again?
Whether or not she liked it, Len removed the soup stained blouse of Miku. It smelled very, very, VERY bad, as if she hadn't showered in years or took a dip in mud.
He tried hard not to wrinkle his nose in front of Miku for he knew perfectly well how she would react. She would playfully hit him and pout. Actually, that might not be that bad after all.
He openly gagged at the stench, thrusting the clothing article to a corner of the room. He took a peek at Miku, but her face was still, weirdly enough, the same as yesterday when he fed her the soup—mouth open and all.
He fitted the dress onto Miku, stuffing her thin, frail arms into the opening of the sleeves. He poked her head through the collar, zipped the back up and knelt back down to look right into her eyes. She didn't blink, and he didn't either.
"D-do… do you like it?" he meekly asked, his fingers crossed in hope. 'Please! Please just answer me!' he pleaded in silence.
After ten, twenty, thirty seconds, there was no response. Four, no—five minutes passed and silence ensued. Len, realizing she wouldn't answer, yelled in absolute outrage, breaking the pin-drop silence.
"RAHHHH!" he screamed frustrated. Before he could think, he sent a hard slap right across Miku's face. He gasped right after and folded in his palm, gripping it so tightly as if he could suffocate it.
Miku, however, stayed as silent as ever, as if she didn't care that she just got slapped, hard, in the face.
Len this time could not hold back any longer. He had enough of her constants silence and ignorance. He grabbed Miku's wrist and dragged her up. His eyes sparked with evil intent at that. Her body just hung limply in his grasp. 'What a lazy pig,' he silently taunted and mocked, his attitude completely taking a 360 degree turn for the worse. 'And you shall be punished for that.'
Len trudged onto the fertile soil, his free hand hugging himself as he dragged Miku behind him. The moonlight shone on his shivering figure; it was chilly in the middle of the night after all. He stopped when he reached his destination and eyed the stone carefully. He squinted as he read the engravings on it to ensure it was the correct stone.
Hatsune Miku
August 31 1990-4 May 2014
Heaven rejoices for an angel has come home.
When he was sure it was it, Len groped for a shovel that he had brought to the cemetery a long time ago. He released his grip on Miku and her body felt limply to the ground with a loud thud. He then proceeded to sweep off the top of the soil for a long while before he saw a hint of wood. He worked faster then, and finally, he got the full view of what the wood was.
It was a teal coffin with yellow linings. The bottom of it had large, brass hooks and there were a few dried flowers on the top. He unlocked the casket and it flew open, immediately emitting foul order, in which Len had choked at. It had white lining on the inside but was dirtied by the soil that had got in. Len turned back to Miku who was on the floor and cautiously carried her up. He held her away from him; she stank as much as her blouse. He scrutinized the coffin and Miku, took his aim, and flung Miku's decomposed and rotting body into the casket. There was a loud bang as her body landed inside and it was bent in awkward angles at her joints.
Len looked at Miku once last time before shutting the coffin and covering it once again with soil. Once he was done with his work, the dark glint in his eyes vanished and was replaced by one of gentleness. He leant against Miku's tombstone, eyes closed and an almost angelic smile settling upon his lips as he remembered all the memories of him and Miku, especially the one after the accident.
Len rushed to the hospital in thick clothes, for the place he was at for the business trip was experiencing winter.
He rushed to the information counter, impatiently asking where the emergency room was and dashed off the moment he received the piece of information he needed.
When he had arrived at his destination, it was crowded with Miku's and Len's family members; some pacing around the room nervously, some bawling their eyes out, and some not even caring and even seemed annoyed to be there because it was an obligation.
At the sight of the utter chaos, panic shot through him. He gulped, and took small steps towards Miku's parents.
"How is she?" he asked.
"I'm not sure. The doctor's not out yet," the father replied, as the mother was too emotional to do anything at all. He simultaneously pointed at the shining, bright red, neon sign that said 'operating', which indicated the operation was still ongoing while Mr Hastune patted and rubbed his wife on the back to soothe her.
After what seemed like eternity, the neon sign ceased to blink and turned dull and lifeless, like what Len's life was to be. The doctor exited, his head hung low in defeat. Miku's parents ran forward, asking of Miku's condition. The next few words had stabbed Len right through the heart and had sent him into a fit of tears.
"I'm sorry. We've tried our best. She's gone," he replied sadly, shaking his head. At his piercing words, Len and majority of the people present broke down into tears. It was too much, just all too much to take. She had died too young; at 24.
As if on cue, his assistant rolled out a portable bed, a white cloth covering Miku's head. Her parents bolted towards the bed, removed the cloth and stared into Miku's wide teal eyes and pale face. Her mother, too overwhelmed at the turn of events, fainted into Mr. Hatsune's arms. Her father fell to his knees in agony.
Len staggered towards the bed and flung himself onto Miku's body, crying his eyes out. Everyone looked on in sympathy at the man who was in love with the now deceased girl since childhood.
Len felt the bed start to roll off and jolted upright. He snapped out of his sorrow and blocked the way. The assistants figured he wanted a little more time so they waited.
Len vigorously shook Miku's shoulders, causing her limp body to fiercely shake back and forth.
"Wake up, Miku! Please! Wake up!" he shouted. He thought; maybe if he shouted loud enough, it would get through to Miku from Heaven and bring her back.
"Wake up, Miku! Please…Just wake up..." his voice trailed off at the zero response. The assistants shook their head in unison and rolled the bed away to the mortuary.
Len crumbled to his knees like Mr. Hatsune, trying to deny it all—the fact that his beloved Miku was dead.
It was exactly 5 months after the tragedy happened. After that, Len went insane with depression and dug Miku out of her coffin during her birthday. He had kept her decomposing body in his house for 2 whole months, pretending she was alive. A foolish one he was. But a foolish man in love.
"I love you, Miku. And I'll love you till the end," he said, a tear rolling off his cheek.
(A/N: How was it? Okay, so it wasn't that good but I still hoped you enjoyed it. Review if you want a second chapter for the return of the insane Len. PLEASE. REVIEW. Thanks a bunch!)