Children can be fascinated by the simplest of things.
Although it is expected: they've raised her in a house with no electricity and water sourced directly from a nearby stream.
Fire was used to brighten up the night, alongside for heating up the bath, so it should come as no surprise to see their little girl get excited over standing on his bed, reaching for the flicker of the switch that, in a second, can submerge the entire room into either darkness or light. She also seems giddier over running her hands beneath the bathroom sink to feel warm water hit her skin.
But it's even more surreal for Len himself to wake up in the morning, finding Kagamine Rin sit cross-legged on the sofa of his family living room, their daughter nursing on her lap, both half-asleep over a blank television screen.
He steps closer, making his presence known.
She nods to greet him, and he responds with a satisfied sigh.
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Her breath is soft, like lilac over clovers, she smells of cranberries with honey butter and baby oil all mixed into one. If heaven is real, she must be one of the angels to willingly left paradise and grace the earth.
But that trance he's in, that lovey-dovey, rose-coloured trance, is short-lived as it always is.
In reality, this girl harbours a personality as far away from any angel possible.
If he tries hard enough, he can imagine that a simple stretch of her hands can bring a pause to time on the earth. But that would be straying away from reality, and the truth is that the person across from him is nothing more than a clumsy, impulse-driven young woman who barely takes no as an answer, wants things done her way and will drag him down to hell if he so much as argues against it.
"The day I turned eleven.. my brother shook me awake. So, obviously, stupidly thinking of tradition, I thought I'd be wished happy birthday," She was spread out across the sofa, and he was on the inner side of it, sandwiched between the cushions. "I remember smiling like an idiot while he was just standing there trying to.. hold back tears."
The switch in conversation more than likely burns through her sanity.
Merely ten minutes ago they had been wrestling lightly across the cushions (to pass the time as the microwave heats up frozen pie), and before that, discussing whether they should go out to get food for the night or make do with anything in the refrigerator.
Her legs are bare under her dress, and he reaches for the blanket to cover her with, tucking it in beneath their sides.
This change in discussion, from playful banter to a serious subject, will always affect her more than it will ever affect him. She's a bubble of sunlight, and he's the needle that bursts it.
"That was right before I found out my Mum passed away," He scoffed as he spoke of the memory. When he notices the younger girl's discomfort, he hurriedly ushers a soft apology, rubbing his fingers over her ears. "I'm not trying to scare you. Sometimes I laugh when I'm nervous. I can't help it."
The television is on, dancing flashing colours on their skin. A movie is running on one of the channels, but he hadn't picked it, so he might as well assume it was Rin who had.
The trees outside, below the balcony can be heard rustling, and he has no doubt they're turning into shades of pale brown to amber.
Fall is on it's way, and he hopes it passes sooner.
"Are you?"
He thought for a while, as if there was a proper answer to consider. "Nervous? ... yeah, of course, but we'd have to talk eventually."
So it is only natural that he does. The words spill from his lips like dandelions dancing in springtime. One by one, then with a gust of wind, all at once.
He tells her how he froze up that morning, disbelieving, trying to wipe the sleep from his eyes, then how he spent a whole week bawling afterwards.
How he'd refuse to go to school for days on end, how he had been utterly convinced it was a trick his family was playing in order for him to give up thinking he'd ever live with his mother again.
How she left the night before; new years' eve, spent with both of his parents screaming, a man he'd never seen before behind her holding onto all of her bags and waiting at the foot of the stairs. What it had been to feel her bending down to be level with him, red lips touching his face, promising she'd only be gone for a little while, then Mummy would come back to get him.
Even though, up to now, he still doesn't know how it happened, why it happened, or even where.
Over one of the cliffs by the sea is the only thing he hears of; he might never know if it was the brakes that wouldn't work, or that the rain was too heavy to see through the night. Whether she fell into the water or if her body was left raw against the rocks, eyes wide open to stare at the starlit skies. His father was insistent on never telling him, and their entire family was sworn to never discuss anything that strays away from the sunshine.
But he thinks of it, every now and then. He closes his eyes, and pretend he was right there, watching her.
They were told to paint her a portrait; af she was the picture-perfect mother. So he listened. Because deep down, he reminded himself of her promise.
Mummy will come back.
And he believed her. Like a stupid, stupid boy, he believed her.
"Dad told me it could've been me inside the car with her that day. Back in Ooda, every year they'd hold a festival of lights... she wanted to take me to see the lights" Rin had been entirely silent for the past hour, but if she had no words to say, he wouldn't force her to speak. It wasn't an easy conversation to give your own ideas about.
The blonde finally piped up with a polite no thank you when he suggests an offer to bring her to see it the next time they go back. She moves her brows in waves, gesturing towards such connotations of bad luck which he couldn't help but snicker at.
This time, it was genuine.
When she brought her fingers up to his mouth, he bit the tip of the young lady's fingernails between his teeth, warning her to not interrupt him.
Another gust of wind slips in. She shivers deeper into the comforter, and Len makes a mental note to close the windows before they get too comfortable.
"He argued to let me stay here for another night. In this house. So she left." He could remember the harsh whispers through the gap beneath the door. He could hear the arguments, as he pressed his head against the carpet. He could feel his brother tugging him away, telling him not to eavesdrop on adult matters that shouldn't concern him. That wouldn't concern him at all.
Though occasionally, he dwells on what it would be like if years ago he were to burst out of his confinements and make sure that woman would keep on her promise never to leave him. Keep her sealed up in their home, set their family up in locks, then throw away every single key.
But even through such childish, mind-stricken hope, none of that would have made a difference. He knows he isn't able change a single thing.
"It's not really her fault, is it...?"
His heart, without even registering the words completely, fell to the bottom of his chest when she began to speak.
"What?"
"That she fell in love with someone else."
Her voice is quiet and uncertain, as if saying a single word out of line would cause him to bark at her. But this is only because she doesn't undestand how she overstepped that boundary the moment she decided to speak in defense of that woman, when in truth, there was nothing left worth defending.
In the end, Len's beliefs are in sync with morality: someone who can choose a stranger they've developed lust for, over their very own family, doesn't need any respect. She may have saved some lives, but she's also destroyed a few in the doing.
"It is her fault," He sat up, yanking his hand away from touch, and Rin curls into her own empty chest, immediately regretting having said anything in the first place. If only she had kept quiet, they wouldn't be in another argument. "We had a good family, we were alright, financially, everything could've been perfect. Sure, the marriage may have been forced, but it's common sense that if she didn't love my dad, she shouldn't have had children with him."
Despite her thoughts fighting one another, telling herself to purse her own lips, she continued to speak. "Children aren't always intentional."
God's sake.
The young man couldn't believe his ears. "You've got to be kidding me. You, of all people, shouldn't be able to talk."
"If you find yourself falling in love, nobody has the right to hold you back."
Len sat up, leaning away when she tried to feel him beneath her hands again. "Nobody wakes up instantly loving anyone. You can't love a person because you've decided you had better sex with them in comparison to somebody else. You don't do that."
She kept her hold tight. It was impossible to separate their limbs, she made sure of it, but his desperation to pull away was simply as strong.
"I meant attraction," Her eyes locked on his struggling glimpse. "I never said it was because of sex."
Oh, sure, as if there was anything else to attraction.
Another blow of wind, another shiver through her spine as the blonde crosses her arms, protecting herself from the chill.
He scoffs as she turns away, but he remains rooted on the spot, with fingers digging crescents into his wrists. A moon spills crimson, the blankets white, mixing together softly into rose.
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The smell of fresh pancakes fills her nose early the next morning. She wakes up on the couch, alone, with a blanket remaining wrapped snugly around her shoulders. He must've never bothered about the windows in the end, the proof being in her nose remaining stuffy and balcony doors wide open, remaining untouched by the rising sun.
Morning dew and summer grass is heavy in smell, the nearby seas lulling them with the tides.
The young lady stretches her arms above her head, releasing soreness before she spins around to take a look around the room. To her surprise, he's already behind her.
Break has ended, and Len is already dressed in uniform, a jacket tucked beneath one arm, a bag of books balancing on the nook of the other.
He balances a soft spoon with a weighted wrist, throwing all their other food options away, lifting a bowl of what Rin can presume to be mashed peaches from a jar of infant food, mixed with fine-blended rice. "Just one more bite. You know you want to go back to sleep, but I've really got to go to class, so unless you can wait for Mummy to wake up and feed you, this is all you're going to get, okay?"
Their daughter is being fussy again.
But in honesty, that little girl always is. By now they've accepted it's merely a part of her personality that Rin lays no claim in.
Those full cheeks and flat little nose are all hers, no matter how unattractive she thinks they are, this is obviously, evidently, and precisely her baby.
But such frequent temper tantrums do not come from her side of the family, she refuses to accept such a thing. "Come on, Mirai. Are you a good girl?" He's desperate, prying his daughter's lips apart with nothing more than a little finger and a spoon. "Please? What if Da-" He grit the word through his teeth, as if he didn't want to word it out himself. It makes her wonder whether he's ever really said it before. "-ddy..."
By the sound of it, he never has. The effort must be applauded at the very least.
Rin tried to catch his attention. "Len."
It failed.
"What if we," He opted to mention himself, that is, in the plural form, to get rid of any awkwardness. Len began to play with the spoon animatedly, jolting his hand forwards and back. "What if we made train noises for you to eat it? Choo choooo, here comes the steam engine..."
At her age, his parents could've fed him an actual brick and he'd swallow it gratefully as long as the entire chunk would fit in his mouth. They've been let off easy, he arrives to the conclusion, whereas he's been rewarded with hell.
Mirai turns away from the spoon, letting the fruit crush against her cheek at the last minute upon realising the short entertainment received is nothing more than a ploy to get that yucky food into her stomach.
The blond let out a groan, grabbing a facial tissue and wetting it to wipe up her face.
"Do you want your belly to burst? Do you want your belly to hurt then squeak and growl and burst?"
"Len, are you off to school?"
Once he snapped out of the one-sided argument with a grumpy toddler, he met the eyes of Kagamine Rin, barely visible under the violet peeking through the windows.
Her hair felt like a mess, and without finding herself in a mirror, she knew her face was worse. At this point she feels horrible enough not caring to know whether or not she drowned in her own tears last night or just sat there, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the hours to pass.
An opportunistic toddler took reigns. As if to take advantage of his distraction, he hadn't managed to rescue his own breakfast from being smashed into bits between sticky, little fingers, belonging to someone who didn't feel the slightest bit of regret at his glare.
The pancakes fell against the floor. Rin got off the couch cushions then onto her own feet while he got on his knees to wipe the mess with a napkin. The carpet is too comfortable, too homely, causing her feet to burn as she leaps across the room to reach her companion's spot behind the cramped counter island.
One of her hands went to finger his loose tie once he stood straight, fixing the position across his chest, though the boy immediately brushed it away.
"It's not even six yet," A glance at the clock confirmed the time. ".. you can't be leaving this early."
No, not yet. But he'd been hoping she would only wake after he leaves. "I just wanted to get ready. Go back to sleep."
"Are you upset with me?"
"I said go back to sleep." Rin strongly ignored his insistence. She clung onto the hem of his shirt, hoping a tug would be all it needed to get those eyes on her, while he did his best to ignore the young woman's presence. His muscles tense when she buries her face in his nefk, and they don't release even when she moves away.
An apology is mumbled, but he acts as if it does not reach his ears.
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For the first time in a long while, three of them ー that is, him and two of his friends, finally meet after school.
Fukase is the first to speak, as always, and although Piko actively participates in conversation, Len is more interested in swirling the hot cup of his coffee with a wooden stirrer.
This was his second option to spend the evening; the first being to watch his classmates back in first year play baseball near the lake, but he wasn't in the mood for games, much less wasting time with people he knew on a less personal basis. More than half of them won't be in contact by year's end, so that's another reason why he shouldn't be bothered.
Around this time he also would've been somewhere along these streets helping elementary school students with their homework, had his teachers not put a stop to it considering the upcoming exams.
Fair enough, that's what he agreed to after being drilled an hour-long talk with his homeroom teacher and his history teacher. Some things are much more important than the others.
Even so, if he fails, he doesn't know what to do. Repeating another year of school isn't an option, trying to find work with only lacking qualifications added to your name is even more out of reach. He takes a sip from his mug. Despite the show of confidence, he can't help but grimace at the bitterness.
He's always loathed coffee. Turning a year older did nothing to develop his tastebuds.
The smell of crepes, in contrast, is intoxicating. There's a hint of vanilla cream with strawberry syrup, flickering lights in the big city as preparation to greet the end of another season, bringing forth another one.
Trees are beginning to pale, and his stomach churns when he thinks of having to return home tonight, planning how he should act or what he should say.
The little peek of sunlight is heaven to his skin, a small beam of light in the dark, so he reaches his hand out to that blossoming ray through the glass windows, submerging in it as if that's the only thing he needs.
His mind isn't on the running conversation; he laughs when it is on cue to laugh and frowns when the subject falls to something sour, but his attention is never truly there.
Instead it roams, round and round, finding the next best place to land on.
Fresh gossip surrounds the little coffee shop.
In just half an hour, he found out the entire life story of a man that committed adultery on his wife until he found out she had a terminal illness, come and go the name of every child from a woman with six daughters, and he's just had about enough of silly love-confession anticipation coming from the group of middle school girls huddled together behind their booth.
He also didn't like how a few was staring at him as if their eyes had teeth, but for their sake, he'll pretend that never happened.
Len can't help but yawn when he finally manages to get every distraction out of his mind.
He's been wandering outside for more than half a day. Not to mention voluntarily, although he knows he shouldn't be, and deep down would rather be at home force-feeding his toddler some peaches rather than get lost in city streets god-knows-where because he's stubborn enough to make her feel the same pain she's shoved through his chest.
Her. She.
Rin.
Another soft, slow, sip of coffee proves that it is revolting, as coffee always is.
It is a strong reminder of time passing, and how, eventually, even he himself must learn to grow up.
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Bad blood is never good, especially with somebody you're meant to see when you open your eyes, and once again, at night before you close them. Home is an hour away, and it's dark by the time he gets back. The sunset is earlier this evening, and he dreads the thought of a coming autumn.
The first thing he sees when he opens the door is the sight at the entrance: she waits, legs folded beneath her thighs, eyes barely able to keep awake as she patiently waits for his return.
Her arms, frail, soft, like flower stems which needed only one timid motion to snap, wound around his shoulders to keep him in place. She puts herself entirely at risk, like roses in the snow.
Her only choice is to stand on her tiptoes, both eyes closed when she gives him a kiss. To both his surprise and hers, the older blond makes no motion to move away.
Her breath is vulnerable enough that he can snatch it all up in one hand and toss it to skid across a river like rocks and pebbles. He can feel her hovering over his own mouth, wondering whether or not to press them together to to flee away, timidly wondering if she were forgiven. Though that miniscule hint is simple enough for the two of them.
He nods, and she moves away. Their lips do not touch.
The soap smells nice, the younger blonde comments hazedly the moment she sniffs at his shirt, and he forces a laugh out of a parched throat only to amuse her.
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"Will you say dada? Can you? It's only a daaa," Mirai's face is squeezed into the shape of a heart by her mother's hands, and he does nothing but sit by, peering over the pages of his book to idly entertain himself with the interaction. ".. and then another daaa..."
It's already become trademark for Rin to do that annoying, squeaky nasal voice so eerily identical to Donald the Duck during another mock conversation with their daughter.
It would be an understatement if anyone were to say he was mad by this display, instead of being driven absolutely feral.
It's irritating, and it's taking away the attention he should be investing towards studying, instead to focus onto her. But that's his fault, as well, because he can't deny the fascination in the depths of his curiosity.
Although, as usual, she must be doing something right, seeing as their daughter is giggling.
Those giggles he has to drop pennies into a fountain wishing for, fold a thousand cranes, find a fallen star, those giggles he thought were a myth, is called forth immediately at the show of such antics with absolutely no cost spent, lest the exception of pride or shame.
Len shakes his head, trying to return to his book. He mustn't get distracted over a night revision session, especially when there are mocks to prepare for tomorrow.
However, even acting indifferent puts him at fault. "You're not helping," The young lady chips in her own complaint, no longer snickering alongside her daughter in order to frown at him. "It's because there's hardly any people interacting with her that she hasn't even said her first word yet. You don't even talk enough."
He does. More than enough. He lugged a two-thousand page collection of stories with the weight of an elephant back and forth across towns simply to read for his daughter every night.
But he only does that whenever he thinks Rin's asleep, or whenever she's out of hearing range, so he preserves keeping her in the dark.
There are things you have to keep to yourself. This, he believes, is one of them. "Turn on the television and switch it to a children's programme, it's there for a reason... remote's on the counter, never been moved."
There has never been a call of Kagamine Rin without the word protest echoing behind in spirals and circles. "I want to stay with you for a little while longer."
She makes this type of decision, yet believes she's in the spot to complain.
"I'm not going to entertain you, I've got to study. Oh, gods sake," He waved his hands in a shooing motion. Within seconds of such a vsible, desperate attempt to rush her away, they find her clambering onto the cramped single bed a second later, landing her head next to his on the pillow and squishing their infant daughter between their chests in order to avoid a fall. "I'm telling you to go away."
As if she would listen. There are many things in a list that she can handle, but rejection is not one of them, and especially not from him.
The moonlight shines in their room, and his night lamp is blocked by the figure of a young lady, her entire head blocking the light. A shadow covers the entire page of his book.
Mirai reaches over for the light switch again, using the leverage of stepping on her father's stomach to make her dreams achievable (where he feels the wind knock out of his lungs), only for her mother to quickly drag her back towards the centre of the mattress, lightly chastising her for being disrespectful towards her elders and to be an obedient child who goes to bed.
As if anyone could go to bed with how loud she was being. He's thankful their apartment is surrounded by thick walls.
"Don't you have school tomorrow?" He purses his lips at her question, at the same time sending a few punishing pinches to his daughter's toes that makes her yawn instead of cry. "It's nearly ten. We shouldn't stay up late."
This goes with the assumption that he doesn't sleep at two in the morning on average.
Evidently, the assumption is false, the bags beneath his eyes being provided as proof.
He felt his book being yanked out of his hold, and after a slow tug-of-war, the younger blonde wins control. Although, despite the protest, he wasn't putting up much of a fight in the first place. Rin places the weight on the side drawer, switching off the night lamp to follow it.
Her daughter is pulled to splay across her chest, somehow already fast asleep throughout their silent bickering, and Rin softly requests an arm to be thrown around her waist. Whisper sweet, sweet nothings to her ear. Give her a kiss on the nose and hold her to sleep. She doesn't think she's asking for much.
He'd beg to differ.
Rin asks if he was upset with her for what she'd said the night before.
Len has to groan. "No. And I'm not threatening to send you back to your family, either, so there isn't a need to coddle up to me if that's what you're so afraid of."
She can still smell the scent of coffee and facial cleanser and peppermint toothpaste all around him. It's the smell of warmth, safety, and it's the smell of home. They're so close, her body next to his, and yet he doesn't let a single one of his fingertips graze against her skin. Their distance is just inches, but it feels as if they're standing on the opposite ends of the world. Multiple oceans keep them apart.
"Len," Rin makes a move to coax him, "I'm only asking for a hug." But the blond roughly turns to sleep on his side, staring directly at the wall. "... Idon't know what you want me to say. Do you want me to agree that your mother is a bad person?"
It doesn't matter what she says as long as she doesn't believe in it herself. She knows that, and he does too, which is why he remains silent instead of giving her a response.
"I'll do anything you want." A dainty hand shakes his shoulder. "Don't cut me out. Please. Talk to me. I can say it right in this moment if you need me to, or whatever else to make you happy. I'll do anything you want."
Soon enough, he has to snap. "Will you say it's alright to leave me once you've had a better lay with someone else, then?"
The light from the stars burns into her eyes.
Rin remains quiet giving him a chance to breathe. Allows it to pass, then pipes up again. But even though she would willingly get on her hands and knees just for a simple hug around his waist, he refuses to be in the place to listen. After so long, she's been in the receiving end of affection, why is it suddenly unethical when he wants to take her place?
"Is this what it's about? That doesn't apply to us. You know it doesn't."
As if he doesn't know how she truly feels. Len's voice nearly rises, but when he realises his child shifting restlessly in her sleep, he softens his tone. His mind is betting him to take a break... begging him to give in. Simply give in. Arguing with the opposite side of him that has both feet planted firmly on the ground.
He's had enough.
"Bet that didn't apply to my Mum or Dad either, did it?"
"Len..."
She strokes the golden bangs shielding his face, pushing coarse, messy hair away, revealing pale eyes to the moonlight. They glisten, and Rin breathes.
In another perspective, they walk walk together, hand-in-hand through a marble maze. The beginning is sealed, and there is no end, so they walk around in circles because it is better than standing still.
He is still angry, and he does not try to hide it. "Sure, it's alright for you to get upset with me. You can be stubborn, avoid talking to me for ages, treat me like utter crap and convince me that I'm the one in the wrong. But the second our roles are reversed, that fucking little rule never comes to mind. Why is that, I wonder."
"You're not giving me a chance to explain myself."
"Think I'm your bitch?" He hisses, low, softer than the first sign of a storm. "I don't exist only to be used by you."
Even when he can't help but curse, he has his fingers covering Mirai's ears, as if anything they mutter while ahe is asleep could still reach into those innocent dreams.
As upset as he can get, as much as this young woman drives him up the walls, there is no reason to tarnish a child's happiness. Whatever he feels towards Kagamine Rin should be kept between the two of them only. That's something he wishes his parents had followed through strongly enough as if it were religion.
Rin doesn't stop there. "... you're afraid of being left behind." It's obvious enough, clearer than day. "I... don't know what it's like to be left behind."
Len scoffed. "Because you've never had anyone do it to you."
"No, because I don't have anyone to do it to me." When he frowns, she tries a smile to balance them out. Because anyone who would ever have loved her enough to make it hurt, left immediately after she first learnt to breathe.
She doesn't have to voice it, because when he meets her eyes, he already understands what's going through this young lady's mind.
An irritated flame bursts in his chest. He feels at a loss, she never fails to make him feel as if it's always him at fault.
As if he was made to be guilty. The young woman holds this power where anything she touches changes form. Where marble turns into clay, gold to water, and his heart, soul, everything to putty in her hands.
Pretty, pretty, sweet lovely girl, how could anyone ever have the idea of hurting such a fragile thing. The depths of his conscience is roaring with anger at the same time it reaches out towards her, whispering little promises of heaven if he were kind enough to lure her in.
At this point, he's closed off enough that he expects her to surrender. Turn her back to face the other side, carry on with neither person claiming victory nor defeat.
But if she wasn't persistent, she wouldn't be Kagamine Rin.
The girl throws herself against his larger body, tightening a grip around the older blond's waist until he can feel tears spill onto his neck, drenching his shirt. He doesn't hear any sobs nor wails, but he can feel her small figure trembling in his hold when he carefully brings a hand to smooth down the length of her spine.
Len whispers soft hushes, gentle enough to be akin to lullabies, and when he tells her it's alright, it's okay, he wasn't truly upset with her, he was only angry with himself and how he can't help but lose his temper whenever he thinks of his mother. She clibgs onto him further as if she needed his touch more than she'd ever need air.
Without voicing it, she begs him for an explanation, to pave her a way, leave her something to do.
... tomorrow, you'll answer to anything I ask.
He binds her to a promise, and he leaves his trust in her to keep it.
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Sometimes the mere thought of standing next to him sends her into overwhelming, intoxicating euphoria.
Other times, she can't help but hate the mere idea of him
Common sense tells you not to force a teenage girl to sit outside on the metal balcony stool while the moon is at it's peak and the summer is ending. She's not wearing anything more than one of his tees, and a pair of socks that barely covers up to her knees; at the very least, he could be kind enough to hurry up whatever he's doing instead of to keep her waiting.
But he re-emerges from inside the house, some sort of clam-shaped jewellery box in his hands.
Len tells her to close her eyes, and although she does obey, feeling her left hand get tenderly handled by two of his own, eventually she has no choice but to squeak, jump, then glare at the older boy through whatever she can glimpse of darkness.
"That hurt!"
"I know, angel, bare with me here. It's not working as well as I hoped it would." He tries again, and she releases a louder scream. "Will you be quiet? You'll wake the baby."
Calling her a sweet name certainly worked. Instead of shrieking the next time he pushed through, she instead took a deep breath, holding any noises in after one final warning that it wouldn't fit no matter how hard he tried. He cupped her cheek, giving a sweet kiss to the lips in gratification once they were finished. So she opened her eyes, surprised it was finally over.
She darted a tongue out to wet her lips after. The taste of peppermint toothpaste is left on her mouth.
As she rose her palm to the moon, she felt her cheeks grow magenta; the silver ring around her finger sent shards of light from the soft pink gem.
"It's my grandmother's ring. It's supposed to be a coming of age heirloom, so this is about, what, ninety years old?" He pushed the band lower down, and it slid easier than it did before. "Her fingers were... very thin."
The corners of her lips rose. "So this isn't a wedding ring?"
"For you, it could be."
Rin, albeit timid, couldn't help but giggle between the gaps of her fingers. She covers her mouth when she laughs, wondering how they're going to take the ring off afterwards, and he brushes the question off by yanking her body off the stool, leaving the young lady to fall against his chest on the cold ground so they can gaze at the constellations in the sky with limbs entwined.
Her head, as always, fits perfectly beneath his chin, while his arms are the right size to wrap around her body.
Blonde hair, growing longer and longer, falls silkily against his shoulder, enough that he can't help but believe how they've been weaved from gold.
rather than a way it's really changed, i blame the loss on this side of the fandom to that broken review bug occurring all throughout 2016-2018 that has caused so many authors to.. stop writing, because they felt people weren't reading anymore.
i do feel bad for not appreciating how many updated fics there were back in the day. anyway, ecen if the content made for the kagamines are still scarce, i'm glad to hear some of us are still out there wishing them a happy birthday!