"First Lieutenant Kagamine will accompany the squad to capture Miku Hatsune's personal assassin."
Len's heart leapt in his chest as he nodded in acknowledgement. Four years had passed since he'd first met with the Hatsunes' killer, and every day, he thought about her.
He thought about how much he would love to kill her.
"Now then," Miku pondered, sitting back in her expensive office chair and tapping a pen againsr her lips. "You've really made a mess of things. How to deal with you…"
Rin lay in a pool of her own blood at her master's feet, her hair slipping from its bun as Miku held her head to the floor with her foot.
"I told you to kill them all," Miku growled, twirling a lock of her teal hair around her index finger and pushing Rin's face into the blood on the floor. "I went to all the trouble of faking your death so no one would know who you were! I even gave that girl your blue eye so that they would believe it was you. And then you leave a witness. A goddamn WITNESS!" She screamed, standing and kicking Rin again. A cry of pain filled the room, and more blood seeped from Rin's already-bloody mouth.
"You've killed hundreds of people, you idiot! Why did you leave ONE all of a sudden?"
Rin gave no answer.
Miku snarled. "I can't even stand to look at you. One more mistake like that, and I'll kill you myself," she growled, stomping out of the room.
The door slammed shut behind her, and Rin hauled herself to her feet, wobbling a bit before regaining her balance. She pulled the straps of her red dress back onto her shoulders and retrieved her furisode from Miku's desk before slinking off through another door and into another hallway. She squeezed through the grimy backways to the room Miku had kept her hidden in while she arranged Rin's "death". Rin closed the door behind her and set her blood-splattered wooden sandals by the mattress leaning against the wall. She pulled the cord to the dusty lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. Though very definitely insane, Rin had the presence of mind to fill her basin with water, bandaging the slash on her right thigh before tending to her eye. She winced as she washed the blood from her body, feeling every break in her skin before she saw it.
She slipped back into her clothes and pushed the old saggy mattress to the floor before falling onto it. Most of the springs had been removed over the years, so when she laid down, most of her body touched the floor.
Though she never recalled it, sanity came when she slept. From deep in the cavernous recesses of her contaminated, fragmented mind, came memories. She saw a man in a business suit walking through a doorway and smiling at her. She saw him tenderly kissing a woman with a swollen belly and a turtleneck sweater. She saw a boy who looked exactly like her. He had different-colored eyes, one blue and one red – the red like her remaining eye. The blue like the one she lacked.
He was the one thing she could pull from her nocturnal wanderings. She was well-aware that she only had freedom in how she killed, but deep down, in the uncorrupted pieces of her mind, she knew she wanted to meet him.
Someday.