Chapter 37

Miku didn't particularly find anything wrong with herself. Yet, as she stared in the mirror on this particular afternoon of this particular day, of this particular hour she hated everything about herself. Her own reflection was sickening and she found she was revolted by every feature of her body: especially her face. Every last thing she detested until she felt she would gag up her own lungs and even that would've been more of a mercy instead of looking upon herself in the mirror. How was it that people said she was beautiful? That she was cute? That any amount of men could lay eyes on her and become spellbound? She couldn't figure out why she hated herself at that point in time exactly. She was just overtly and highly disgusted.

Grotesquely, she started to pick out small little details about herself that she did not fancy. Small little nuances that perturbed her. It could've been the simplest reason for why she hated everything about herself. It also could've been the dumbest of reasons. The fact didn't change though that she instantly knew those reasons after a few minutes of standing there. She knew with great and explicit detail what her reasons were and why now as she stared in the mirror she hated all she saw. The sudden anger that exploded inside of her travelled across her skin and sank deep into her being.

Her anger grew into wrath, her wrath into fury, then finally fury into rage. She had a vexation to pick with herself. A brief but deadly dispute that needed to be settled. It was a tangible object that boiled her on the inside. A beast that ran rampant like a living thing inside of her. She loathed herself: she despised every last detail.

This wasn't...insanity was it? After all it couldn't exactly be insanity. Insane people don't know they're insane. They can't come to terms with what has pushed them over the edge or what may have set them off. They can't organize their thoughts or perhaps are too organized: all too silent. All too quiet. Miku was nothing like that: nothing like them. There's nothing odd about desiring the person you love to love you back more than you love them. So why was it that Len couldn't, and wouldn't love her? She picked out more subtle details.

She wasn't as short as Rin was. She was fairly tall. Certainly not as tall as Luka even in heels but she was the perfect height. She came just tall enough to fit snuggly at Len's throat level. That was the perfect height wasn't it? She could snuggle with him and cuddle with him. Yet, why was it that he wouldn't hold her? Was it because of the fact her hair was this sickening teal color! Her hatred for it burned her, was a traitor to who she was. Why couldn't her hair be blonde...? Maybe if she was blonde Len would notice her more. Maybe teal was just too bland of a color.

As she looked at all her pooled features her face wasn't quite as innocent as Rin's was. She didn't know why but she hated it. She hated even more so that it was exactly the kind of face that for some reason, Len Kagamine didn't love. It was her face that he seemingly didn't see. It was her eyes that he did not gaze into. And it was her gaze that was one he felt he didn't need: even as she felt it was a gaze he could get lost in. So why was it that he wouldn't? She was perfect. She was capable of being more than pretty, more than innocent, so why did Len Kagamine simply not love her...? Had she done something wrong? That night...had it been too much...? Had what she'd done just been possibly the most awful thing that a human being could ever do to another human being? Was that it?

If that was the case surely she could fix things: make amends. Surely the incident could be swept under the rug. Matter of factly, it wasn't too peculiar...was it? Maybe if she possessed Rin's features and Rin's face...could it be then that...? She didn't finish her thought as she set a trembling hand directly onto the mirror. Her skin wasn't greasy and her hand was not sweaty: she left no prints. Odd, but that's how it had always been. Just the right amount of moisture. Was it odd then that she desired to possess the face of the one her desired partner loved? It wasn't. Meaning if he loved her face, even if it wasn't her face it could...potentially still be her after all.

And so, she didn't find it odd or peculiar really when she slipped a couple of contacts out of a small little kit. She didn't find it odd either when her eyes became the brightest shade of blue. Didn't care when the sharp scissors she held sliced her hair away until it was perfectly at her shoulders. Still it was teal, but it was at her shoulders: just the right length. It wasn't weird either when the blonde dye seeped into the teal, covering it, destroying it. It became a part of her and she became a part of it. Even then she didn't find it abnormal when she did her makeup and adjusted her features so that her face looked just, if anything, younger and more angelic than Rin's did. She didn't portray it bizarre either when she wore her uniform flawlessly as Rin did. It wasn't strange either when she stared in the mirror and felt...peace. A certain serenity. If she looked like the girl of his dreams...she'd become so...wouldn't she...? Wouldn't she!

As she gazed into the mirror at her own face. At her own face that wasn't hers she hated it. It sickened her. She couldn't stand to look like this. What had she done! Miku had mutilated herself into something she was not and never could be. That was the truth. The truth that mocked her and spat in her face. She was hideous. She looked nothing, nothing like Rin. Worst of all, she looked nothing like what Len wanted. So she didn't find it outlandish or even unusual when her rage took over and she grabbed the small spoon next to her along with the sharp scissors and forced it under the socket of her eye. Simply removed it. Just one. Oddly enough, it didn't even hurt that much. If she couldn't have the eyes Len wanted to gaze into and be lost in...why have eyes at all? It wasn't even saddening when the shaver came and she no longer possessed her fake blonde-teal tresses. If she couldn't have the hair Len wanted to touch...why have hair at all? When she doused her face in makeup remover she was still sickened by her own face. More so than when she'd tried to be Rin. Her waist wasn't pencil thin and her chest wasn't flat enough. Her legs, long as they may be, made her too tall and not the perfect height that Len obviously wanted in Rin.

As she gazed at her face...if this wasn't the face that Len wanted...would love...why...have a face at all?...Her hands clammy as they were, picked up the sharp kitchen knife and angled it directly at her face...as small tiny pieces of blood and gore seeped down along with a salty mixture of some sort...even then it did not hurt. When she finished that job...she finished the second eye. Only then did a smile grace her once so lovely face. Only then...was she content...

Miku gasped and crashed out of her nightmare: finally awake and alert. The scene she'd just witnessed was horrific. It was undermining. She couldn't quite wrap her mentality around what she'd just seen. She glanced around a classroom filled with other students who had not the slightest idea what she'd been dreaming of. Miku did know however, that the fear on her face was all too clear. All too evident and visible. She was glad then that she didn't have this class with Luka as she'd have bothered her nonstop. Miku jolted then when a set of eyes were in fact looking at her. She couldn't see them and yet...felt a gaze. A gaze so determined that she was still dazed when the sprinklers drenched all the belongings of the students and the fire alarms blared in her ears. Chaos ensued as she still snatched up her bag and rushed out into the hall.

She was only out there for a few seconds when Len appeared sprinting around a corner and a classroom he had just left exploded into nothing but chunks of drywall, wood, and stray snapping wires of severed electricity that hung from the ceiling like venomous snakes. She didn't hear what he was screaming at her because his words were drowned out. They were lost in the chaos of the bell and the spattering water of the sprinkler system. It was only until he grabbed her hand and jerked her down the hall not entirely in a straight line that she realized he was being chased. She didn't look back and only ran. She ran simply because Len held her hand in his.