A heavy poignant feeling weighs heftily in the deep bowels of Miku's stomach, and it seems to her as if the world may just end, and within a crisp snap of the fingers and an unexpected blink of an eye, it'll all wither and die and everything will turn cold and grey.
Yet, still, the skies shine and the wind whispers in her ear as if everything's okay.
She feels a presence beside her but she doesn't turn her head to see who it is; the sunset is just out of her reach, resting smugly beyond the window, nestled safely and snugly behind the broad mountains. A halo of light seems to glimmer above the mountaintops, and her eyes soak it all in as if it's the last time she'll ever see it. She knows she'll be able to rest her gaze on it again, but that doesn't stop her from being completely mesmerized by the beauty of it all. Strange, she thinks.
"You know, if the teacher doesn't show up within 15 minutes you can leave, right? And considering it's around 5...you must be more dedicated to school than I thought." Says the person beside her. She shrugs, not daring to take her eyes from the view. It draws her in, brings her closer to the sky, and she isn't quite willing to let go of that feeling yet.
"You've finished pruning the roses out front already?" She asks. Her voice is velvet in the air, soft and rich and beautiful. She can't see him, but she knows he's frowning; somehow, Miku can sense it, and she can visualize the worried crease in his brow that's no doubt there. I suppose I know him too well, she thinks. It doesn't come to her as a surprise, nor is it unwelcome. Perhaps she's gotten good at reading people, or maybe she spends too much time with him. She can't be bothered to care about it now, at any rate.
"We were done ages ago. You were there, you know."
"I finished my section early, actually."
"Yeah, and we finished, like, 5 minutes later. But that was probably half an hour ago. What're you still doing up here?" She doesn't answer. She came to the classroom with the intent of witnessing the explosion of color resulting from the sinking sun, and she stayed for reasons she doesn't recall. A sudden warmth envelops her hand which rests on the cool wood of her desk. She jumps at first, the familiar touch for a moment feeling foreign and unexpected, but she relaxes only a moment later. "Are you okay?"
She manages to tear her eyes away from the fading sun and the heavenly halos that crown the mountaintops to stare at her equally angelic companion. His hair is set ablaze by the dying shine of sunlight, and the shimmering sweat on his forehead and his flushed cheeks are no doubt a symptom of the tireless gardening he'd been doing not too long ago. Like she predicted, his lips are turned into a frown and his eyebrows are knit in concern above eyes overflowing with compassion. She feels that she may drown in it, if she let herself.
She stretches her lips into a smile anyways, just to appease him and ease his worries. "I'm alright, Kagamine. It's just an insufferable, never-ending day for me." She tells him. He just looks at her with those sky-blue eyes of his, and there's a sort of understanding glistening under that glassy exterior fashioned from sympathy and unending love.
She wonders what he'll include in his upcoming lecture, because it seems that he always has one ready for times like this, for her. And he's good at it, too. His words are like silk, smooth and sweet and tumbling from his tongue like honey. For a while, it usually works and puts her mind at ease. When she closes her eyes, she sees darkness and a way to sleep, and that's it. There aren't any other undesirable thoughts running amok or pressing questions- just sleep.
But for some reason, he doesn't do that today. Half of Miku is grateful for it; she's always felt like a bother when it came to having bad days and relying on Len to drag her back on her feet. "You know, I guess I'm not surprised I found you up here. You always were quite solitary and you always did like watching the sun set. The view from here is killer, too." Len says with a smile on his lips, trading his previous concerned expression for one resonating endearment.
Miku nods, propping her elbow on her desk and resting her cheek on the palm of her hand dreamily. "I always thought it was just amazing at how much changes in the span of a day. I don't think I'll ever get tired of how beautifully the sun paints the sky when it's descending behind the city, or when it's rising above those distant mountains. It's all so...calm, and gradual, the way it sneaks up on you if you aren't paying attention."
Len directs his own gaze to the pastel sky, his eyes taking in the gentle colors which bleed and melt into one another effortlessly. Miku wonders for a moment if he sees what she sees: an unblemished heaven, just out of reach, untouchable.
But she knows Len- he's optimistic. He'd reach for the stars and bring one down to Earth, secure and twinkling in the palm of his closed hand. He could plunge his forgiving hands into the scorched earth and still find a way to make something beautiful grow there. Maybe that's what it is that she loves about him, (not that she'll ever admit it out loud, into open air for anyone to hear or onto a blank paper for anyone to read) though it's hard to pinpoint exactly what it is about her golden haired friend that warms her heart on lonely and cold winter nights. Maybe it's the way that he's always the first one she calls when she gets good or bad news, or the way his messy hair always sticks up in the morning no matter how hard he tries to keep it tamed, or the way he always knows exactly what to say at any given moment.
She doesn't know, and to be honest, it doesn't matter to her: there can never be just one thing to love about Len Kagamine.
By the time he looks back at her, she's already smiling. He raises an eyebrow, then looks behind him as if he suspects that someone's sneaking up behind him. When he's met with nothing but empty air, he turns around to face her again with. "What, something on my face?" He says.
She shakes her head. "Just that confused look you've got." This seems to make him even more confused, as expected. She looks outside at the darkening sky, and stands from her seat. She'd like to be home before dark so she wouldn't have to deal with jumping at every shadow that passes her by, and she could always view the colorful sky from her walk home, anyways. "I should be leaving. It's getting late."
Len stands, too, grabbing his bag from its desolate spot on the floor and putting it over his shoulder. "You know what's your problem, Hatsune? You don't get enough to eat." He says. She raises her eyebrows at the random outburst
"Well, I was just gonna say that I have this tendency to zone out a lot in the most inconvenient places, but let's go with that. What's eating more going to do to solve my problems, anyways? I don't suppose it'll land me a good job, or make me suddenly insistent on studying."
"Everyone's meeting up at some sushi bar in an hour. I can only stay for about twenty minutes because I have so much work to do, but you should come. The antidote to a hellishly long day is good food and quality time with friends, you know." Len tells her earnestly. Miku hesitates for a moment, her pockets suddenly seeming much lighter than before.
"I'm all right. Thanks for the offer, though." She says. God knows she needs a night away from herself, but of course, God also made sure that she was broke. She doesn't dare use any money from her savings; that's strictly for college, which would no doubt put a large dent in her parents' bank account.
"Really," Len says, "you should come. I can tell you need some time to relax and forget about...things for a while." Miku shoves her hands into her coat pockets, a feeling of shame washing over her like the waves of a sandy beach. She bows her head slightly, deciding that the square tiles of the floor are far more fascinating than the boy across from her.
"I...uh, don't have any money," She mutters in a voice that's barely audible. But Len has no problem hearing it. Miku figures that he was probably anticipating it. It isn't the first time he's paid for her meals, and if he has it his way, it certainly won't be the last.
"Miku, you know I get paid good money. As long as lazy and/or old people exist, so will overgrown lawns and gardens on the brink of death, which can only be revived by my very green thumb. People tend to be generous." Len says, pride lacing his words very gingerly. He doesn't like to boast. Miku thinks that he's more modest than he should be- he really does have a gift and passion for dealing with plants. Whenever she pays him that compliment, he waves it off as if it's nothing more than an annoying fly, the smallest hint of crimson dusting his cheeks all the while.
She purses her lips, thinking. Then, finally, she sighs.
"I suppose I could use a night out with a few familiar faces. But I'm paying you back when I get the chance, all right, Kagamine?" She says. He smiles at her as he adjusts his bag.
"I'd tell you that you don't need to, but there's no use in arguing against you." He chuckles. They'd had this debate many times, and no matter how much Len refused to accept the money she owed, one way or another she'd either convince him to take it or she'd sneak the money into his backpack or wallet. He gave up on fighting her some time ago, as any person with a quarter of a brain would.
"Smart." She comments. She's about to follow Len out the door when she pauses, her gaze once again seduced by the skyline outside. The world is dimming yet still bright as it fends off dusk and darkness which threatens to spill across the sky like a bottle of tipped over ink upon a cloudy tablecloth. Columns of light reach for her, struggling, and swathe her in sunlight. Had it not been for Len's quizzical look, the dying sun might have convinced her to stay.
Their voices bounce off the hallway walls loudly, and when they leave that wretched building behind for the fresh cool air of the city, Miku lets out a breath of relief.
It'd been so long since they've spent time together, she began to forget what it was like to feel this light. She looks at the blond beside her. He's talking about the godly eggnog his mom makes from scratch in the winter, and how he'll make some for her if she wanted. She can feel his hand brush against hers on occasion, and she can see the individual strands of hair the sudden and light bursts of wind brush from his face. Miku nods, agreeing with whatever it is he's saying next, suddenly having an epiphany about her life if Len Kagamine should ever leave, or move away to some far away state:
It really, really doesn't mean a thing.