Miku

Everyone is united in that they operate in stiffness, but divided by type; Rin's mother (whose name is still a mystery and therefore feeds my growing curiosity) is reluctant, like she knows she'll have to answer difficult questions that never should have to be asked in the first place, and the way she reaches out to pull the wooden chair out from under the table is slow and unwilling; Len (who for once seems to be the one in discomfort, and I'd gloat to myself about it if the situation wasn't so serious and if I wasn't as uncomfortable, either) is hesitant, his jaw set and eyes darting around the room as if someone would jump out at him from beneath the wooden floor and behind the sage walls, and he takes the chair and drags it out with that same caution, resulting in it grating across the floors and emitting a terrible groan; Rin (she looks terrified, the poor thing; I decide to bake those almond cookies she likes so much later or take her for a night-drive to the beach) is pale and tense and when she takes hold of the chair and practically flings it out against the floor, you could hear it trembling, too; then there's me (I still think this should be a private conversation, but with Rin shaking like that and Len acting so guarded and tense, I figure that the least I can do is mediate this conversation) who's all too aware that I'm an outsider, and while my hand is steady when I grab my chair, I pull it out carefully so as to not cause any noise and draw attention to myself.

It feels like a million years before we all sit down, but even a million years will come to pass no matter how long it takes; we soon find ourselves sitting at the table with cups of water which Rin's unsteady and generous hands (so generous, in fact, that I found droplets of water rolling down my glass and pooling onto the table below) had poured. The cups are tall and white ceramic with little yellow sunflowers painted all over it.

"So," says Len. "Where have you been?" It's odd to me how unstrained his voice is. When I look at him, he almost doesn't look surprised or upset. In fact, there's almost nothing on his face, except for a small frown and a faint— faint, which I find immensely odd—curiosity in his eyes. He props his elbow up on the table and rests his jaw on his fist as if he were bored and relaxed. His unruly blond hair, which is down and looks so much like his mother's, and always suspicious, sparkling cerulean eyes regard her with interest as she struggles for an answer.

I frown. There shouldn't be a struggle; she should just have one, because she should have a good excuse for leaving. But judging by the way she opens her mouth and leaves it open without saying a thing, I get the idea that she doesn't have one. I look down at the table. It's dark brown, not dark enough that it looks back, but not light enough that you'd notice rings of water if you didn't use a coaster for your cup.

"I..." She says after a long moment of contemplation. "...just couldn't be here. With you disappearing and everything, it just...what was left for me here?"

"Um...Rin?" My voice sounds foreign to my own ears, like I'm underwater and the sound is muffled. Everyone else turns when the words, which I struggle to identify as my own, roll off my tongue. "Maybe? You're...you know, you're a mother of two, not just one..."

She looks at me, her gaze piercing and her eyes shimmering with 'how dare you' and 'I'm a bad parent.' I return her gaze with what I assume to be a composed stare, but is in reality probably an irritated glare. Nonetheless, Rin's fingers tug at the loose sleeve of my lilac button-up. "Miku, it's fine," She whispers. Her eyes are wide and pleading. "It's okay. Please don't."

'It isn't,' I want to say, because it's true. Her mother up and left when she needed her most— when they needed each other most. And with the partial emptiness of the house credited to Len's tragic (tragic to her, of course; I wouldn't mind so much if he disappeared again) disappearance, her mother said, "well, might as well complete the job!" and made the emptiness whole, resounding throughout a lonely house in which Rin was the only one left. I feel my lips press against each other in a tight line and I bite my tongue to keep myself from saying something I'd regret. I wouldn't really regret it, of course, but Rin probably would, so I turn my head toward the door and away from Rin, exhaling sharply through my nose in a non-verbal and reluctant agreement.

"You know, Smurfette here has a point," Len says, surprising me enough to dismiss that he used that god-awful nickname again. Or maybe I've just gotten used to it. I choose to believe in the former for my own sanity. "I'm practically the master of creating shitty excuses to get out of things I'd rather snap my neck over than do. At least a shitty excuse is still an excuse; but it seems like you don't even have that."

She purses her lips. "All right. You're mad, aren't you? I would be, too. But you've got to understand how...painful it is to lose a child. To lose you. I couldn't be here alone any-"

"You weren't alone," says Len. He reaches for his cup and takes a long drink as if it were whiskey instead of water. "You had Rin. Who is, in case you forgo during your little fun vacation, is also your child. When you left, that's when you became alone. And that's when she became alone, too." I look down at the wooden table, studying it closely. The wood is scratched in some places. I wonder why. The silence over us makes me wonder about silly and trivial things like that; the wood and why it's dinged up, the tiled floors and how they should be cleaned at least once in awhile, the big dusty dresser in Rin's room and how something so decrepit could hold her lively and vibrant clothes.

Len sighs, then runs his fingers through his wild hair. "Honestly, what the hell were you thinking, leaving when your only daughter needed you the most?" Their mother looks down. In shame, embarrassment, or panic, I can't tell. I can see her chewing the inside of her lip, though; for this reason, I think she's panicked.

The floorboards creak under the weight of the air and the thick tension it holds. It's strange how old homes do that; groan and lament when it's silent, as if to let you know how quiet the world can really be. But both Rin, her mother, and I are shocked; perhaps the house is trying to speak for us. I doubt it.

"It- It's okay," says Rin after a while. She smiles at all of us like she really believes it. "It's fine. I know it must've been hard on mom. I turned out fine."

"Yes," their mother says after a moment, slow and uncertain. Her eyes look to Len and Rin, then finally they land on me for what seems like forever. I don't know what it is that she's scrutinizing under her gaze, if it's my teal hair and the sour look on my face, but it makes me squirm in my seat. Under the table, I wring my hands in an attempt to calm myself, but my heart for some reason continues to beat quickly. "It would appear so."

"'It would appear so?'" says Len. His agitation only seems to grow. "See, this— your painfully dismissive attitude toward Rin— it pisses me off to no end. Now, I wouldn't give a flying fuck if I came home to a dusty and empty home. I don't fucking care that you left and I wouldn't care if you were still gone when I came back. It's been a while, living here must be painful, all that shit, whatever. I don't care if you left me. But the fact is that you left Rin. And that is just one of the shittiest things you could do as a parent." With that, he downs the rest of his water.

I nod my head silently in agreement. I almost don't process how strange it is to be agreeing with Len. Then again, it's hard to process much when the shitstorm that is this family reunion is unfolding right in front of me.

"Len!" says Rin in horror. She turns and looks at her mom, her eyes more scared than ever. From the corner of my eye, I see Len reach into his pocket and dig something out. He takes his cup and holds it discreetly next to him on his right side (the side away from his mother, who's too busy looking at Rin to notice; it's funny how now she seems to notice her). He stays like that for a while, but I don't quite hear anything. I stare. He puts the cup up on the table, then fiddles with whatever it was he took from his pocket. When he puts it back, I see a flash of silver; a flask, maybe? "Mom, I'm so sorry, it's just that we had a long day and...uh, well, and...I guess it's surprising because- because, you know, you didn't call or anything? Not that I'm really upset, you know, it's- it's so good to see you! It's just that, w-well, we weren't expecting you to swing by, or to even really know, you know? Er, well, not that we didn't think that the hospital would contact you, because you're still our mother, it's just that we didn't think that, uh, that you'd know so soon."

Their mother gives a shy smile, and nods. I stare at Len as he takes hold of the cup, and he meets my gaze. He stares back, squinting as if assessing me. I purse my lips and tilt my head, because no way in hell did I just see this guy pour whiskey or bourbon or whatever alcoholic drink that can be carried in a flask right in front of (or to the side of, I should say) his mother.

"I...well, it's alright, Rin," Their mother says. Rin smiles happily, her eyes sparkling at the words of affirmation and gratitude. Len looks at the cup, then at me. He raises an eyebrow and smirks, then holds it out to me as if offering me some; the liquid inside is clear, but the strong smell of alcohol wafts up from it. I scoff and roll my eyes. I guess I should feel flattered that he would care enough to offer, but I think he just knew that I wouldn't do it. I can hear it now: him calling me goody-two-shoes and spineless and soft. I scowl and glare at him, already angry for the grievances that he'd committed in my mind. He takes a long drink from the cup anyway, maybe even relishing in the fuming, angry waves that roll off of me. He coughs when he draws the cup away from his lips.

"And Len, he's just- you know, he's- he's just grumpy because...well, he's always grumpy now. Don't take it personally, okay?"

"Do take it personally," Len interjects, swirling the contents of the cup like a wine-taster (could it have been wine in that flask? No; that's too sophisticated for him. Maybe bourbon or ale or something. And where could he have gotten wine? Or anything else, for that matter?). "You're my mother, but what you did seriously sucks major-"

"We get it," I interrupt before anything terrible could come from his mouth. He shrugs and takes another drink. "We get it."

Rin gives him a withering glare before returning her gaze to her mother with a new set of fresh and kind eyes. "Mom, I-"

"Rin," Their mother says gently. Her eyes are strong and clear now. No trace of hesitance or uncertainty. She gives her a small smile. "It's alright. I think it's clear that I need to...take some time away-"

"More than you already did?" I mutter. I didn't mean to say it out loud; it just slipped out. But her mother hears it, and she turns her gaze toward me. Irritation grows in her gaze, and I almost regret saying it. Almost.

"This is a family matter," She tells me. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't interject like this."

"Oh for Chrissake, who gives a shit?" Len groans. He waves his hand around the room, exasperated and agitated. "Hell does it matter? At least she was here."

I give him a surprised look. He doesn't notice or care. He downs the rest of his "water" and slams the cup on the table. "Now listen," He says as he puts his elbow on the table and points at me. His words are clear enough, but if you listen hard enough, you could hear the sloppiness; the untidy way of speaking that comes with being tipsy. I almost snicker when I realize that he's very lightly slurring his words. "The fact of the matter is that she— that one, right there, with the weird fuckin' blue hair— was here for Rin when we weren't. She is part of her family. Not to me, though, I couldn't ever imagine being related to Papa Smurf like that, but...you get it."

"Right..." She says after a moment. She looks down in discomfort, then stands with a sigh. "Right. I suppose...I suppose that's valid, isn't it?"

She runs her fingers through her thick hair, and she laughs bitterly. "Karma, isn't it?" She says with amusement. "I leave, and my place is taken by a young girl with...atrocious hair."

"Hey," says Len. He stands, too, but almost stumbles when he does. "Hey, yeah, it's fucking weird, but you don't gotta say that shit out loud in front of her. And you should go. This's givin' me a headache."

"No!" Rin blurts out. She gives her mom a scared look, and she, too, stands. "No, please. Don't. It's okay!"

Her mother only smiles sadly. "It's fine, Rin," She says. She turns to Len. "Your number is still the same, right?"

He shrugs. "Hell if I know," He mutters. "Haven't opened it yet. Just call Rin if you need to." He pushes his chair out and wanders into the kitchen. Their mother turns to Rin, and her cheeks begin to grow pink. She looks down, fiddling with her fingers and clears her throat again before speaking.

"Rin, honey...would you mind giving me your number again?" She says, and the air turns cold. I pause to stare, and Len stops searching for whatever it was that he was looking for. A needle could drop onto the little welcome mat at the front door and it would be the loudest thing in the world.

When I see Rin, her eyes are livid with emotion; yet somehow, try as I might, I can't figure out which ones. "You...don't have my number?" She says slowly, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Her voice is ice cold, too frigid for even me to believe that it's her speaking. I can't imagine what's going through her mind, and I don't want to.

Her mother opens her mouth to say something, anything, but whatever she says would only add fuel to the flame, yet never come close to melting that icy feeling Rin gives off. So she only stands there sheepishly, hands playing with the buttons on her blazer and shakes her head. And so the silence ensues: stifling, deafening, and unbelievably anxiety-inducing.

Rin takes a deep breath. "So you're telling me...this whole time...you didn't have my number?"

"I got a new phone," She says as if it meant anything at all. "The contacts, they got lost-"

"But you memorized Len's number, didn't you?" She's as stiff as cardboard now, looking at her mother with burning eyes. I've never seen them burn so brightly, and I've never felt so afraid of her, either.

"In case he came back-"

"In case he came back?" Rin says in disbelief, her voice steadily growing louder. "In case he came back? He was gone without a trace for two years, and I- and me, your only daughter, the one who you knew was still alive and not rotting in some- some field or ditch in the middle of nowhere-"

"That's enough Rin!" Her mother snaps. But Rin's too far gone, now, too caught up in the rushing tides of her pent-up emotions, too far gone, too angry, drowning.

"No! No, you don't get to tell me what is 'enough,'" She yells. Her voice shatters the silence and bounces off the walls harshly, making me jump slightly because suddenly I was thrown from the oblivion of silence into a battlefield, in the middle of Rin's justified fury and the unjustified situation her mother forced her into. "For all this time, you didn't even have my number memorized or saved. If- If something happened, if I was going through something, I never even had the option to talk to you about it? To talk to my mother and tell her about the things in my life, because she apparently never cared?"

"Rin," says her mother, her voice somehow holding onto a string of calm amidst the chaos around her, "you knew what you were going into. You signed-"

"Bullshit. You- You told me to sign that- that- that fucking- that fucking document or whatever, the one that lets me live alone, and I- I did it, why? Because I trusted you. You said you needed alone time, time to recover, and I let you even though I was hurting too. For God's sake, mom, he's my brother! I know you were hurting, I know it made you want to curl up and cry for years on end until he- he came back to us, but that doesn't mean that I didn't want to, either. And that's no excuse to just forget I even exist, to completely-"

Slam!

Her mother's fist is on the table and when she hit it, the cups trembled and the water in the jug shivered. "You were 15 years old!" She shouts. "You were damn near adulthood, and you should've been able to take care of yourself. You shouldn't have needed me for anything more than paying the bills, which I still do, to keep a roof over your head. And I will not let you talk to me this way, not in my house-"

"Your house?" Interrupts Rin. "Your house? You haven't stepped foot in this house for years! And 15 is not near adulthood, mom, it isn't even close; I was a kid, still. I was a scared kid who needed her mother, and you just got up and left and never looked back. And the one time you did, it was for Len. Not for me. Never for me."

"Never?" Her mom says in disbelief. Len had wandered out at some point to watch and was now leaning in the doorway to the kitchen, his eyes grim and watching. "Don't you dare, Rin Kagamine. I loved you. I put a roof over your head. When money was tight after your father died, I kept you close when I could've easily sent you to an orphanage. I brought you into this world, and I'm the one who kept you away from an empty stomach, and I'm the one who loved you when nobody else but your brother would. Don't you dare say that to me."

My hands curl into fists because those aren't supposed to be acts of love- they're bare necessities. Things you're supposed to do when you have a child. And there I watched her try to sell those things off as parental love, as optional things that enhanced childhood, with full confidence.

"To an orphanage...?" Rin says quietly. "You were...you were thinking of doing that? To me? Why me? Why is it always me! Why do I always end up getting fucked over? What the hell is it about me? And what the hell is it about Len that makes him more worthy of your love? What does he have that I don't?!"

"He isn't you," She spits. "And you act...exactly like that woman. Like my mother, and every time I see you, my blood boils. When I look at you, I remember crying at night with welts all over my back, the shouting matches and stinging cheeks and bloody noses, and I just can't stand it. And your brother...he looks just like your father. He was the best thing that ever happened to me, you know. He swept me off my feet, and carried me away from that place that I was supposed to call home, and I never came back. And when he died...Len was all that was left of him. And when Len disappeared, it was only you...you, with the loud voice that reminded me of her, you with her booming laugh and her little quirks, just you. And yet you looked so much like Len that when I saw your face, I was also reminded of what I had lost, and over time..."

Her mother leans in close, her eyes brimming with a sadistic rage that makes me want to punch her. Her brunette curls fall into her face, making her look far more unhinged than I remembered her to be a few moments ago. But her eyes brim with tears, making her soft blue eyes shine and glimmer and gloss over, and a tear falls and streaks down her left cheek. She speaks her next words through grit teeth and with a low voice, menacing and horrible. "I began to resent you."

Rin's eyes stare, blink, and are empty for a moment. She must be processing the words; I know I still am. Then she finally realizes. Her dead eyes reanimate and the lights come back on, and her eyes sear with emotion. And once dry, they now begin to grow wet and shining. "Get out," Rin says. Her voice begins to tremble.

"What?"

"Ge- G- Get," She chokes at the end of her sentence and her voice cracks, and I stand to console her. "Out!"

Rin's mother is still, like a deer staring into the headlights. If it were up to me, I'd run her right over, back up over her, then run her over again for good measure. I give her a hard glare; playing nice simply isn't an option anymore.

"What're you still doing here?" I say. "Leave."

She scowls in response. I cannot ever fully articulate into words just how badly I want to deck this bitch. "You have no-"

"I don't care if I don't live here," I snap. My hands begin to tremble and my cheeks feel flushed. My whole body feels hot, and the world seems to sway; somehow I don't notice it. "You've done enough damage. Fuck off. We don't want or need you here!"

Her mother's mouth contorts into a snarl and she hurriedly makes her way toward me, raising her hand. "I won't let some little blue-haired freak talk to me this way in my house-"

I raise my hand, ready to slap her arm away and defend myself (it also gives me more than enough reason to punch her square in the jaw) but the hit never comes. I hear a noise of surprise and when I look up, Len's standing behind her, holding her arm in place above her head.

"Listen, mom, I'm way too fucked up for this shit. Especially this early in the morning- I mean afternoon. Goddammit," He says. He sighs, then drops his hand, and his mother's arm falls. He takes her by the shoulders and drags her away and steps in front of me, between us. I'm left staring at his broad back in shock, immersed in disbelief of the events that have escalated within a span of 10 minutes. "For the love of Christ, mom, you fucked up real bad and you just made everything so much worse. If you weren't an overall horrible person, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now, but we are. Just...just leave. Don't make this harder than it has to be."

Somehow her eyes soften in the light of Len's surprisingly gentle words. She seems to falter. But she takes one look at Rin, whose tear streaks leave a haunting trail that upsets me to no end, and she seems to rise again in the midst of the calm like an ember reigniting a roaring flame.

"I- I pay for this home- I send you food-"

"Fuck your money!" Rin screams suddenly. Her eyes are puffy and red and so are her cheeks. There are blotches on her forehead and nose that are also red, and her tears seem endless. Still, her voice is somehow strong and resilient. "Fuck your food! And fuck you!"

Her mother looks ready to say something, but I step in before she does.

"Bitch, I swear to god," I say, stepping out from behind Len and forming a fist with my right hand, "if you say one more thing, I'm going to hit you. I'm not kidding. Do I look like I'm kidding? Because I'm not. I'm going to knock you the hell out if you say a single thing to her."

She stares at me, and even Len gives me a surprised look. I glare up at him as if to say 'you're next' but we both know if I tried to punch him I'd end up with a broken hand and an infinite amount of humiliation and pain.

She's silent, deciding if I'm bluffing (I'm not) then she turns sharply with a huff, and walks out the door, slamming it behind her. It echoes throughout the house with a new sort of silence; one that's somehow lighter, like all the bad tings had been taken away, one that's relieved.

"I- I, uh...hnng..." Rin whimpers. I immediately rush over to her, concern flooding my lungs along with a white-hot, icy fear. Her tears and snot drip everywhere but I still hold her in my arms anyway. "Th-Thanks, guys that was...hm...tha-a-t wasn't...very cash money...heh..."

"Not at all," I reassure her as I stroke her hair. "Not at all."

"Yeah that kinda...sucked," says Len flatly. He's standing behind us at the doorway, watching his crying sister with an uncomfortable grimace on her face. "Not very...cash money." She sniffles and leans back. Her lip trembles and she wipes her face with her hand.

"G-God, I...I like, rea-re-really got-gotta piss," She says with a weak laugh. "Se-Seriously, I'm...I'm gonna p...pee all over the floor h-here...so-o I'm gonna go t-to the bath-bathroom."

"Are you okay?" I ask her. I take her hand and hold it tightly. "Do you wanna talk? Or...or do you wanna do something?"

"Y-Yeah," She whispers. Then she plasters a shaky smile onto her face. "I wa-wanna piss. I'll be back..." She walks past me weakly and heads up the stairs with quiet footsteps. When she's gone and the footsteps, too, are gone, I turn and find the room empty except for me and Len.

I sigh and release a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. It seemed like the last time I breathed was forever ago; it was astounding that I could hold my breath that long. I make my way to the kitchen almost absentmindedly, my feet shuffling onto the floor. I rummage through the cabinets, bringing out mixing bowls and cookie trays and almonds and other ingredients. I pause to look up at the cupboard above the oven; it's too far ahead for me to reach.

I turn around in a daze to look at Len, who had followed me into the kitchen. He's watching me with curiosity, drinking from that same cup. I wish I'd taken him up on his offer. I point up at the cupboard sheepishly. He raises an eyebrow.

"What?" He says.

"Flour," I reply. "I need flour. I can't reach."

He rolls his eyes and sets his cup down on the counter, then heads toward me. "Smurfette needs the help of a regular human, huh?" He muses to himself as he opens the cabinet. "Who woulda thought."

"Oh, shut the hell up," I say, too tired to deal with it. I'd known he was going to say something, but chose to believe in the better; clearly I'm naive. I look over at he sunflower cup, and reach for it. Len grabs my wrist just before I could get to it.

"The hell're you doing?" He says. I glare up at him.

"Taking you up on your offer," I answer. "Don't make empty promises, Kagamine. Those really suck."

He looks at me for a moment, studying me. Then he sighs. "I know," He says. "I know. But this is for your own good."

"What," I say, getting ready to be angry, "you think I'm lightweight, don't you? That I can't handle myself?"

"Do you really want to be drunk when Rin needs you? And when you're baking something?" He answers. He shakes my hand off the cup, and takes a swig himself. "Nobody wants you fuckin' up whatever it is you're baking because one taste of alcohol knocked you out cold. And yes; I do think you're a lightweight. You're, what, 90 pounds?"

"120," I answer. "God, you're bad at math. Or judgement. Or both." He rolls his eyes.

"Who gives a shit about math," He grumbles. "I can do the basics. Anything beyond that is fucking useless anyway." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a phone. It's a touchscreen but it looks old and dusty. It buzzes in his hand.

"Is that your old phone?" I ask.

"No," He mutters with clear sarcasm lacing his stupid voice, "it's a damn banana."

"Oh, screw you," I say as I watch him struggle to unlock the password. "Does it hurt to be genuine and not an ass all the time?"

"I'd say it pains my soul, but I probably sold mine for this vodka," He says. He finally unlocks it, and checks something. Then he scoffs, rolls his eyes, and turns it off. He sets it down on the counter and takes another drink.

"What is it?" I ask. He frowns.

"Nothing," He says. "Just something...idiotic."

...

?

The only light in the room is from a phone. Someone is wrapped in a blanket and scrolling through their social media, occasionally letting out a chuckle and sending the cursed post to some unfortunate soul. The person sits on the bottom bunk of a bunk bed; the top mattress had been taken out, though, and all that remains are the rails. An abundance of worm-on-a-string hang from these rails to create a sort of curtain over the bed. It had been glued and taped on for good measure.

Clothes are strewn all over the room, but the person who inhabits it doesn't care. Next to them, a small animal fiddles with something. A crunching sound is heard shortly after. The person sighs.

"Hey, c'mon. We're sharing remember?" They mutter. The animal—a confused opossum— screeches in protest. It jumps off the bed, sulking and on a voyage to find something else to eat. The person takes a baby carrot from the bowl that the opossum had been rummaging through and pops it into their mouth. They let out a laugh as they come across a post that they think is funny:

I speak 5 languages, the text reads over a ridiculous black and white picture of Bugs Bunny pimped ou t in a suit and gold chains, English, profanity, sarcasm, and Real Shit & spanish. The last part is in a completely different font and nearly cut off by the bottom of the picture. The person giggles and sends to to a user that they haven't spoken to in a long time.

Send to _? Their phone reads. They press the accept button and opens their private message history.

_ was last online 2 years ago.

The person opens their conversation, unbothered by the timestamp. The only thing that fills that empty void are countless pictures and memes of similar nature, all from their end.

u lmao ?

The person chuckles. Maybe they didn't have the most conventional humor, and maybe Len hadn't responded in a while but...well, maybe it's the only thing that can keep them sane. It's almost like they're texting again, and it feels like he's alive agai-

No.

He is alive.

He has to be.

The person sighs and turns their attention back to the phone, then freezes.

Seen just now.

They gasp, their heart stuttering in their chest, and they grab the phone with trembling hands and begin to type.

LEN!?

lEN IA THATLJH IYOPU /?!

LE N ?!

Seen just now.

Tears blur their vision. 2 years had gone by. 2 years of grief and tears, 2 years of hell, 2 years without Len Kagamine. And it wasn't about to be 3.

LEN I MGO NA I CAN LBIEVK IM GNNA CRY

WHY DI NT LD OYU TELL ME YOU WGOT BACK !/1!?/?

HEU Y ANSWER ME GPPLWASE !

KKKING IST HAIT YOU LPPLESE ANSWER MSER TEL ME IM NOT SDREAMIG N IS THIS YO U IM GNNA DCRY KLEK RN

_ is typing...

shut up

OHHMKMYMK KGKOODOODD

The person shoots up, brushing past their curtain of worm-on-a-string and greatly startling their pet opossum. The person bolts out of their room, slamming the door open and rushing down the hallway. They burst into the kitchen, causing their mother to jump. She turns, her hand placed on her chest over her pounding heart, and sighs. Then she notices her child's tears and her look of anger immediately turns to one of confusion.

"Sweetie, are you ok-"

"MommyIdon'thavetimetotalkrightnowIgottago!" The person says all in one breath. Their mother sets their spoon down and walks away from the frying pan which had begun to steam and release the deep smell of cooking mushrooms and onion. She sets her hand on her child's shoulder, deeply concerned now and worried.

"Dear, what's wrong?"

"It's Len, mommy," The person says through their tears. "It's- mama, have you seen my jacket?"

"It's right there, you're holding it," She says, pointing to the navy hoodie the person holds in the crook of their right elbow. The person looks down in awe, not realizing that they had instinctively grabbed it on the way out of their room. "What is it about Len?"

"He's back, mommy, he's back!" The person says in excitement. Their mother's eyes widen, then the tears begin to flood over her cheeks. She sobs quietly, wiping them away with her hand, a smile stretches across her face. The person reaches over and hugs their mother, then kisses the top of her head before departing, running out of the door.

"Dear! Your shoes!" Their mother yells after them. But they don't hear it; they're already down the street, running as fast as they could to the Kagamine household.