Well, I have officially strayed from the original draft of this completely. Let's hope it turns out alright.
The moment this realization struck her, Miku felt the intense urge to throw something. Or cry. Or set something on fire. Preferably Kagamine Len. God, this sucked (forgive her teenage way of describing it). Her idol, the only one she really had, was a complete jackass. Well, just her luck, really. What else could Miku expect from such a kind gesture from that stupid gender-confused jerk? She had thought she could just enjoy tonight. But no. No joy for Hatsune Miku. No simple-minded fun. There always had to be some sort of twist in the rope she hung from. Really, it felt like she was hanging from an invisible rope at the edge of a cliff. She was starting to hate this; the way things worked out for her.
"What was that about, Miku? Are you alright?" Kaito asked, turning worried eyes to look into Miku's own cold pair. She had tensed up, shock gripping her limbs. A look similar to that of a frightened deer caught in the headlights of a car awoke upon her features. She just couldn't bring herself to look away from Len. Lin. Whoever the hell it was.
"Jeeze, Hatsune-san! You must be really tired or something," Rin examined her face, a cheerful grin granting her cheeks dimples.
"Perhaps the concert was too much. Someone should walk her home."
Len's voice. Lin's voice. God damn it, she didn't know what to call him even in her head.
"I don't think she's used to such loud crowds," the idol added.
No. Don't pretend-
"She is a bit anti-social," Kaito attempted to tease the frozen girl. Nothing came of it.
"I thought so," Miku heard Len reply.
Don't pretend that-
"Maybe you should get home, Miku, sweetie," Kaito's breath hit her ear, a whisper in the inner turmoil she was faced with.
"That's probably a good idea, Kaito-san. I'm sure someone of her sort isn't accustom to loud concerts," the idol boy.
Don't pretend you know me.
Miku shot him her most intense glare; a look that had made quite a few grown men switch sides while walking down the street towards her. Kaito flinched, Rin's eyes seemed to (impossibly) widen. The blond girl's bright smile turned sour, confusion spiking across her face.
"Go to hell," Miku spat, turning on her heels. Kaito attempted to lunge for her hand, but Miku didn't want any part of his affection. Coldly, she stalked from the room, her long pigtails trailing behind her. The door slammed behind her, and she soon found herself back in the main lobby area, cold air blasting in from the constantly opening doors. People filtered into the night, nudging against her, and she remained hidden among the taller teens and young adults.
Just what the hell was that about? She muttered inside her own mind, Was he trying to put me on the spot like that?
She shook her head, trying to clear out confusion and anger, as well as the excited chatter that buzzed into her ears. Miku wished they could all shut up for a few moments. Maybe the walk home would do her some good.
Miku ducked through the crowd, heading to the door. She tucked her jacket tighter around herself as she left the building, turning ro head to her house. She was sure a vivid discussion about her behavior was being held in the room she had left behind. Or maybe she was being a bit egotistical thinking that. It was of no matter to Kagamine Len how a moody, angry teenage girl acted around him. No, not around him. Toward him. In any case, she hoped Kaito might calm the storm. After all, she supposed Rin wasn't too bad. But if she was related to Len. If Len was in fact Lin.
Nope, no doubt about it. Len was Lin. Lin didn't exist. Lin was the fake identity of a super idol. Miku's super idol. Her only one.
She wasn't surprised to feel tears water into existence in her eyes. The cold night air caused the cold, salty tears to leave frozen tracks down her cheeks. She felt like a complete idiot. Len's plan all along must've been to make her look stupid, and she hated it. She hated looking stupid, and she hated bullies, too. Only bullies and horrible people liked to make other people miserable, and Len seemed to be trying pretty damn hard to do so with her.
"God damn it," she murmured running the back of her hand across her eyes, smearing wet tears over the lids of her closed eyes. She did her best to quicken her pace, knowing it wouldn't do any good to get caught by someone she knew. And of course someone she knew would be at a Kagamine Len concert. The attendees were still in groups around her, walking behind and ahead of her own pace. Maybe even Neru or Teto could be found in the crowd.
Miku's feet created a steady, fast pace. Her house wasn't too far away, hence why she was walking home at whatever Godforsaken time it was. Maybe she could manage to get there before completely breaking down.
She did manage, but what she wasn't expecting was the familiar, wiry figure of a boy, set against the light that was lit on her front porch. He sat on the front step, smoke curling from the cigarette between his lips. Silver hair caught the yellow lit above him, his pale face forced into shadows.
No mistaking that figure. Utatane Piko, her (mild) crush, had come for a visit.
"P-piko…" Miku attempted a greeting, smiling and hoping the light wouldn't reveal her tears. Her hope was wasted.
"Ah, Miku-chan," he replied, frowning as he stood. Miku noticed blood residue below his nose, and a long cut across his forehead. Another fight. So that's why he chose to visit her. He walked up to her, casting his cigarette below his boot. A pale, rough hand was extended and sharp features gained a soft edge as Piko placed his palm against her cheek. She fought to hold back a sob, but those tears continued.
"What's happened to you?" he asked, a thumb delicately brushing the skin below her eye, wiping away a tear.
"N-nothing," Miku stated, and suddenly found her face pressed into Piko's chest. The boy measured only about five feet seven inches, but was annoyingly taller than her. Tall enough to settle his head atop hers.
This display of affection was rare for Piko, but not when it came to Miku. The two were childhood friend; hugs and pecks on the cheek could be expected often enough. Despite Piko's bad-boy attitude, he never held back around his old friend. Miku knew that if she so chose, she could do the same.
"Come on," Piko guided her to the door like some poor child, which was appropriate enough, as that was how she felt, "It's so cold out tonight."
The front door, unlocked, yielded to them and the two slid out of their shoes. Mikuo expected Miku home and was honestly too lazy to answer the door when she arrived, just as she was too lazy to locate her house key. Sounds of a loud movie filtered from the living room, where Mikuo had settled himself before Miku had left. The scents of popcorn and butter met Miku's stuffy nose as she and Piko climbed the stairs, entering her room and shutting the door behind them.
"Miku," Piko began, draping his jacket over the back of her desk chair, "Something has obviously happened. Do you trust me or not?"
"Oh, shut up," she replied, drying her eyes on the sleeve of her jacket, "Let me go get the first aid kit, you dumb boy."
She left momentarily, going into her bathroom and opening the cabinet. The first aid kit was there, well-stocked and waiting for use. More specifically, Piko's use. The boy often came over after a fight, Miku being the only person close to him willing to patch him up after a fight. He got in a lot of fights. Sometimes with his older brother or his stepfather, or just with a random boy who happened to bug him at some point. He really wasn't any good with his fists. Miku could teach him a thing or two about fighting. Not that she really wanted to. She'd probably turn him into some sort of war machine with her skills.
Knocking herself out of her self-absorption, she returned to Piko, who was lounging on her bed in a very lazy, very attractive way. He really didn't know how hot he was. And Miku didn't feel like pointing it out, as she would definitely get teased, even though he had done the same with her in previous years.
"Sit the hell up," she demanded, rolling her eyes as she sat beside him. He did so, slouching as he turned in her direction
"What the hell'd you do this time, moron?" she asked, opening the small kit and removing a tiny bottle of disinfectant and cotton balls.
"I resent that," he flinched as she pressed the stinging liquid to the cut on his forehead. It wasn't deep, but in was long, three or four inches. "Some jackass decided to take revenge for my last scuffle with him. Had a few friends join this time."
Miku sighed. "How many?"
"Three."
"I'm surprised you're alive. Get me next time. Or, better yet, don't pick a damn fight," Miku narrowed her eyes as she withdrew her hands, turning to open a bandage, "There. Now go clean up that nosebleed. It's stopped, but you're covered in dried blood."
Piko rolled his mismatched eyes, but stepped into the bathroom. Moments later, Miku heard her faucet come on, and soon after, Piko greeted her blood-free. Well, kind of. A few speckles could be found on his grey shirt, but that's only because Miku was looking.
"So, you going to tell me why you were crying?" Piko asked, leaning in the doorway between her bedroom and bathroom.
"Maybe later. I don't feel like thinking about it," Miku replied, crossing her legs and leaning on her arm.
"Alright, then. Thanks for the patch-up. I've got to go, though. See you tomorrow?" he asked.
"We'll see. If you happen to be alive," she smirked.
"Wiseass," was the one-word reply she received (and the one she deserved, really).
"Love you, too. Good night."
"Yeah, yeah. 'Night," he left, closing the door behind him. His footfalls could still be heard on the stairs, but the front door made no noise as the house became Piko-less. What an amazing way of describing it. That happened to be sarcasm, by the way.
Miku sighed once more, then began to prepare for bedtime. Maybe she would join Mikuo in front of the TV later, after a shower and her pajamas found their way onto her weary limbs. Yes, that would be a lovely way to end such a messed up day. Leaving all of this nonsense behind would be just blissful.
/
Miku awoke on that cold Saturday morning to the wide red eyes of Kasane Teto. Her immediate reaction included shrieking and shoving the girl off of her bed, onto the floor next to Akita Neru's feet. Needless to say, her heart was racing and her breath came and went rapidly.
"Told'ya to keep away," Neru smirked at the girl, who was rubbing her knee, which had colliding painfully with the floor.
"Oh, Teto-chan," the ever-kind voice of Megpoid Megumi joined them, sighing. Miku was a bit relieved that someone was in the room, besides just her and the crazy energy that was Teto. Or the sarcastic negative downer that was Neru.
"H-how did you three get in here?" Miku asked, wide eyed and real as anything. She wasn't acting. The sight of these three girls in her room had her in a state of raw shock. That fake stammer she used to appear innocent? Yeah, it seemed to be working against her for the moment.
"Your brother let us in," Neru answered, using her thumb to gesture at the door. Miku glanced up just in time to see a teal head whip out of sight, and uttered a few curses in her mind.
"You shoulda told us you had a hot brother," Teto grinned, standing and leaning against Neru, her arms wrapped around the shorter girls neck as she rested her chin on the blonde's shoulder.
Miku stared for a brief moment, preventing a scowl from forming on her face. Really, Teto could be irritating. No one made comments about Mikuo so casually. Not while Miku was in the room, and most definitely not to her face.
"W-well, that would've just been embarrassing!" Miku exclaimed blushing.
"Teto-chan, don't tease her," Gumi instructed quietly. Miku appreciated the effort, even if it was basically wasted.
"Silly Gumi, dear. She doesn't mind, right?" Teto released Neru and threw herself on Miku's bed, landing on hands and knees. In a moment of panic, Miku yanked her blankets up to cover her face. Her face burned, and even if it was fake, blushing made her feel so weak.
Miku had long since learned the art of acting. Blushing was easy; just think of embarrassing things or even things that made you angry. There was such a thing as an angry blush. Crying was harder. Miku could stand a lot without crying. But if she really, really had to, she could fake cry. The stutter had been harder to master. Miku had grown up learning to assert herself and that if a girl wanted to be taken seriously (or any person, really) she had to be willing to speak properly and intelligently. But, with some practice, the stutter had become almost second-nature. Why all this acting, you may ask? Simple. Anything was better, even being treated like some innocent, sweet, weak little girl, than being treated like the criminal she was. Anything.
"She minds," Neru stated blandly, dragging the drill-haired girl from the bed by her shirt. As the girl pulled her energetic friend from the room, she glanced back at Miku.
"Get dressed while I subdue this one. We're going out," was all she said, and shut the door as Gumi and an unwilling Teto followed her from the room.
And Miku let out a sigh. The sounds of footsteps on the stairs allowed her a moment of relaxation and bitterness. Those three (two, really; poor Gumi was dragged along as much as Miku was) girls never changed. Who gave them the right to pull Miku out on a Saturday? At – Miku had to check the clock for this complaint – nine in the morning?! Where did a teenager have to go at this time, anyway?
Miku released a hiss of irritation as she pulled her blankets off herself. Quickly, she stumbled into a rather frilly dark blue skirt lined with white lace (it was far cheaper than it actually looked) and a simple pale blue blouse. She would regret it, seeing as it was cold as hell out, but it kept with her image. The skirts and the frills, cutesy stuff like that. If she had her way, it would be jeans and loose t-shirts all the way. Maybe even the male uniform at school, because God knows that skirt was far too short. That did not qualify her as a cross dresser. That was Len's territory.
Biting her lip at the thought of the boy, she slid into a pair of cute boots from her closet. They were warm and lined with fur. Even Miku could appreciate them. She hurried with her hair, which wasn't as tangled as it could've been, and rushed from her room, almost reaching for her cell phone, an item not currently in her possession. A curse fell from her tongue, leaving the room with an angry chill to it as she sped from it.
She entered the living room to find Teto trying to death-hug Mikuo, who was cracking up. Gumi was nervously biting her lip as Neru put on a rather unamused expression. She was attempted to haul Teto to the door, and when her copper gaze fell on Miku, she immediately frowned.
"Help," she demanded, and Miku rushed over to stand between the three girls and Mikuo.
"Hatsune-saaaan!" Teto exclaimed, tackling the girl in a hug as she escaped Neru's death grip. Neru's lip curled in annoyance, but she refrained from helping Miku. The pigtailed girl could see the words she wanted to say floating in those narrowed eyes.
Not worth it.
Well, screw you, too, Akita-sama.
Miku shoved Teto away. "Th-that's enough, Kasane-san. P-please, let's just leave now."
"Alright!" the ever bouncy girl replied with a burst of noise. She took (more like forcefully grabbed and yanked) Miku's hand, as well as Gumi's. The two girls burned red and shot each other looks of sympathy.
"Bye, Miku! Have fun!" Mikuo told her as she was given the chance to pull on gloves, a scarf and her coat as the three girls stood by patiently.
Oh, how she wanted to flip him off.