Chapter 8
I Like I Love You
You might be wondering how my... aheh, I would say 'encounter', but that sounds a little ominous, doesn't it? I'll settle for 'meeting'.
Yes.
Anyway.
You might be wondering how my meeting with Megurine Luka changed anything. After all, I had a rather good time with Luka and Miku. I liked Luka. I can only assume, if I'll see her in the future, I'll still like her- unless she's had some strange personality transplant. Luka's a nice person- and if she makes Miku happy that's all that matters, isn't it?
Of course it is.
But my meeting with Luka sparked something inside me; something that had been lying latent for a long while...
I-I'm not even sure how to describe it. It's a little difficult finding words for all these feelings- and words are easily misunderstood. Badly communicated. In the end, what comes from your mouth could be completely different to what's circulating in your head- and nobody would know if you couldn't explain it, would they? It'd be different if I could actually cut open my head and show you a cross-section of my thoughts... But I guess stuff like that only exists in science fiction. Maybe that's a good thing. If it was as easy to pick through thoughts as it is to choose a book in the library, my life would be miserable; not even worth living.
Not that it's a bag of rainbows and sunshine at the minute... Ahaha.
But I'm still here.
I'm sat in this uncomfortable chair in this office, and I'm talking to you.
I'm not dead.
I-I think you know that already, hahaha.
I guess...
I'm not like Tei...
Well...
I-I'm sorry- I'm straying off the subject matter. I do that a lot, don't I?
I don't want to bore you.
Y-you say it's alright?
Okay...
Well.
When I met Luka, and I saw how plainly happy- how disgustingly lovey-dovey- she was with Miku, it made me feel jealous. I've already touched on this subject matter already, haven't I? I already told you I was jealous- but... But I guess it's important enough to tell you twice (or thrice? How many times has it been? I can't remember). Seeing Miku and Luka together made me want things- want things for myself.
I'd... always wanted things, of course. But I never had enough courage to act on them.
I think seeing Luka and Miku gave me that courage.
Miku had been stewing away in her own worry for a few months, pondering whether she should tell me or not. She'd been dragging a secret around with her, too- and whilst it wasn't as heavy as mine (n-not that I'm trying to rank our 'deepest, darkest secrets' in order of importance or anything. T-that would be kind of arrogant, saying 'no, I have more problems than you'), it had still been strangling her.
When Miku told me how she felt, that weight had lifted from her shoulders, and she'd smiled.
A beautiful smile.
When you told people how you felt- even if you couldn't truly trust them- it... it made the pain just a little bit easier to bear.
And I was jealous of Miku and Luka.
They had a happy relationship, even though it wasn't viewed as 'right' by a large portion of society- and they were comfortable with each other despite that- and they were happy.
I'd always been in love with Rin, but I never thought to tell her.
W-well, that's not strictly true. I had thought to tell her- many, many times.
But it never progressed past thoughts.
And those thoughts were never cheerful ones, either. My brain never gave me the fairytale happy endings Miku loved so much when I tried to imagine what would happen if I really did confess. In my mind's eye I always saw Rin turning on me- her eyes narrowed- her face fraught with disgust- and if I tried to reach out to her, she would push me away.
A demon Rin with red eyes and a shouting mouth that seemed to swallow up half of her face.
A Rin who couldn't stand me.
A Rin who... couldn't even bear to touch me- let alone look at me.
A Rin who thought I was sick.
That was what my mind threw at me every time I thought to confess- and, you know what (I'm sure you already know), it was...
It was horrifying.
I loved Rin more than anything in the world- not just as a... well, not just in a physical way, but as my twin sister, too. She didn't stop being by big sister Rin just because I wanted to have sex with her- of course not. In my mind, she was still my twin; still the outgoing girl who'd pushed me forwards when I was a child and introduced me to the world beyond books; still the girl I'd baked cookies with whilst flour coated our fingers and every available surface; still the girl I would tease about her poor grades or her untidy bedroom and, in return, be teased by because of my hyper-sensitive nature and short stature.
Rin never stopped being my sister.
And she never stopped being the person I loved.
If Rin had been a random stranger it wouldn't have mattered half so much. Not only because there was no social stigma attached to falling in love with a stranger (well, it depended who the stranger was, of course)- but also because, if she hated me, it wouldn't be that bad, because I wouldn't have to live with her.
I wouldn't have all the memories of the times we'd been together to haunt me- a reminder of what could have been.
Rin was my twin, and I could never forget that.
I could never forget the happy times we'd shared. And if she hated me I'd still have those memories left to mock me- a bitter reminder of what could have been.
Of what I'd ruined.
I was… afraid of ruining those happy memories.
Rin's happy smile.
If Rin had been a stranger it would have been easier to confess- even though I've never been very good with words. But if a stranger thought I was sick, I could… cope with it.
But not if Rin thought I was sick.
Twisted.
Or she hated me.
I-I was...
I was too afraid to tell her.
To afraid to do anything other than make myself miserable.
So I lied to myself and pretended everything was okay.
I made everything better with pain.
But I could never quite fool myself. I couldn't even fool Rin. Rin knew something was wrong with me. I'm sure she did.
My ill-concealed grief was like a disease; seeping through skin and bone until it ate you right through- and Rin was getting infected.
After Tei's death- after I became more withdrawn and paranoid- Rin began to look... less cheerful.
I'd always associated Rin with the color yellow. I think it was a childish association that stemmed back, what, thirteen or fourteen years ago? Rin's hair is blonde- though, when I was a kid drawing crappy 'my family' pictures, I'd always color Rin's hair in that awful puce yellow wax crayon color. I didn't have a wax crayon refined enough to show just how pretty Rin's real hair was. And I think the association between Rin and yellow stuck. It didn't hurt that she had such a summery personality, either.
But, after Tei's death...
I don't know.
Rin started to look less 'yellow' to me.
Instead, she slowly began to turn grey.
I was making her miserable.
Rin knew something was wrong, but every time she tried to ask me I'd turn away, or turn to Miku. Miku said she 'trusted' me; and whilst I was reluctant to believe that, it also meant Miku was less likely to ask me obtrusive questions than Rin was.
Besides, it was easier to lie to Miku.
I'd been avoiding Rin for about three months.
Pushing her away.
Locking myself in the bathroom when Rin wasn't at home.
Y-you already know what I was doing in there... s-so it doesn't matter.
I don't need to describe it again.
G-give me a break.
I can only talk through this much trauma before I feel like sticking a fork in my eye. I'm only human.
But my talk with Miku changed my outlook on life. Miku told me all sorts of things- and it wasn't just meaningless chatter. Some of what she said really stuck with me- and I think (although I feel guilty about it now) it was the first time I'd really sat there and tried, properly tried, to understand Miku. It was the first time in... in God only knows how long I'd actually listened to another person's problems. And I realized I wasn't the only one in the world who'd ever felt lost, confused, scared of my own feelings- scared of admitting them to other people, scared of what would happen if I didn't- and alone.
Miku said if she hadn't had somebody to confide in, she might have gone mad.
I laughed and told her I understood.
Because I did.
Miku made me understand.
I couldn't keep pretending there was nothing wrong- and besides, Rin had already grown suspicious.
I didn't want worry Rin anymore.
I...
I wanted her 'color' to be yellow again- as strange as that sounds (but it makes sense to me, and I guess that's all that really matters).
I'd been selfish. I'd been so wrapped up in my own problems I hadn't given much thought to other people and how I was impacting them.
I'd hurt Miku.
I'd hurt Rin.
I'd hurt all the people who cared about me.
My mind had been focused on Tei for such a long time. I think a part of me (the rational part, perhaps?) died when Tei did. But it was then, as Miku smiled and told me about how she 'really, truly loved Luka' that it finally hit me.
Tei was dead.
Once upon a time, I might have been able to help her. But that moment was passed now.
I couldn't do a thing.
I couldn't pick Tei off the road and piece her back together; not when her rotting remains had already been buried under six inches of dirt in the local cemetery.
I couldn't help a dead girl.
And agonizing over her cold-eyed corpse and icy pulse every night wouldn't bring her back.
But I had helped Miku.
Miku was alive and well, and when she'd looked at me, smiling- "I knew I could rely on you, Len"- it suddenly hit me.
I couldn't keep living in the past.
Why would I want to live in the past anyway? The past was full of pale-skinned girls with empty eyes who reached for me with dead hands- gnarled hands, like twisted tree roots- and tried to pull me under. But the future was bright and vibrant and cheerful.
I couldn't change the past- but I could change the future.
Whoa. I sound like a postcard or a motivational poster or something, don't I?
This is so corny.
B-but that doesn't change the fact that I'd… 'seen the light', I guess.
I couldn't save Tei- not anymore.
But I could save myself.
I could try and become a stronger person.
A better person.
A person who- like Miku and Luka- wasn't afraid to say what he was.
I didn't want to hide anymore.
I had to confess to Rin.
I had to.
It knew my 'confession' might hurt Rin, or scare her, and maybe she would turn against me- maybe she would shy away in disgust. But telling her my true feelings would be kinder than not telling her and letting her worry about me.
Rin was worried about me. I could tell.
It was obvious.
Rin had stopped bossing me about as much. She'd also stopped sending me off on midnight errands to get more peanut butter from the twenty four hour store or whatever. Instead, Rin would look at me- really look at me- as though she were trying to see through my mind.
As though she was... begging me to open up to her.
She wanted me back.
She wanted to see Kagamine Len again- I'm sure.
Her brother.
And I was going to show her.
I was going to sit down and talk to her and tell her who 'Kagamine Len' really was. The bad as well as the good- because no human being was perfect. Least of all me.
I'd lay my feelings bare for Rin's eyes; even the parts of me I wanted to forget.
But if I told Rin, I could go forwards.
I could leave the past behind me.
And maybe I'd stop being so afraid.
When did I decide to tell Rin all of that?
Well, those thoughts- the ones I tried (quite poorly, I think. I'm no public speaker, haha...) to convey to you yesterday, were running through my head when I walked home from town. I could have taken a bus (it would've been quicker to take a bus) but...
Well.
It might sound silly, but after the incident with Tei I developed a kind of... aversion to buses. Don't ask me why. I know it doesn't make much sense. I mean, I wasn't going to run out into the road and let myself get hit; of course not. But some strange, Pavlovian response in the back of my mind had linked buses to Tei, and- subsequently- Tei to... a large manner of depressing things, and that was a can of worms I'd rather keep the lid very much and very firmly on.
So I didn't take the bus.
I haven't since I heard about Tei's death, either.
I don't know, maybe that's a good thing. It encourages me to use my legs more.
Then again, it's not like I need to exercise, having such a pitiful figure already...
Anyway- as I walked home, I turned those thoughts over and over inside my head. At some points it felt like there were several Kagamine Lens inside my head, warring between what I should do. Should I tell Rin? Shouldn't I? I couldn't decide- and by the time I'd finally got home I was glad the walk was so long, because it gave me enough time to think.
And, after half an hour of almost continuous debating from the multiple Kagamine Lens inside my head (that... sounds pretty crazy, doesn't it?), I finally had my answer.
I was going to tell her.
I had to tell her.
I'd been putting it off for three years- but I suppose I'd always known, the day I woke up sweating with Rin's face running through my mind, that I was going to have to tell her at one point.
I'd hoped it had just been a 'phase', a 'crush'- some weird psychological Freud-esque thing that would wear off in time; that would wear off when I got to high school and met another girl. Maybe a girl like Tei.
But it wasn't a 'phase', and it wasn't a 'crush'.
I was... really in love with Rin.
I couldn't run away from that fact anymore- and I couldn't force that 'love' out of my body in streams of blood and biting pain.
It was the truth.
And Rin deserved to know the truth.
Rin wasn't at home when I first arrived- and, to be honest, I was a little thankful for that. It meant I had some more time to think things through; plan what I was going to say.
There was a note left on the fridge door when I went to pour myself a glass of milk; crumpled white paper scrawled with Rin's childish print- 'Hey, LenLen! I've gone to the movies with Kaito and Kaiko and Iroha. You know Iroha, right? She's in your class. I'll be back home at half six! You better have the dinner on when I get back, wifey!~ No I'm not even kidding hahaha' and the note was punctuated with a bunch of wobbly kisses. Each and every one of those little 'x's made my heartbeat stagger.
Rin's fridge notes are always... interesting. We used to communicate with each other through those notes, like normal people would use cell phones. Rin always used to leave me small messages after she'd eaten something that didn't belong to her, and I'd usually respond with a 'well you'll have to go to the store and buy more cereal then won't you, you pig?' and Rin would jot back on the other side of my note 'noo! It's not my responsibility- you're the dorky, house-proud one with his own girly apron!' and...
Yeah, w-we...
We haven't done that in a while.
We used to argue through notes pinned to the fridge all the time, just like little kids- but we stopped that when we got into high school.
I couldn't help but smile when I saw the note. Somehow, it seemed like a...
Geez, I'm going to sound really sappy and sentimental.
O-okay.
To me, that note felt like a 'sign'. It was a reminder of the friendship I'd had with Rin; fraught with sibling rivalry, yes, but we really had loved each other.
If I'd been unsure before, that note gave the small push I needed to gather together what little remained of my confidence.
I had to tell Rin.
I wanted us to get that old relationship back.
And that would never happen if we kept secrets.
I laughed to myself at Rin's messy handwriting (I could tell she'd jotted it down in a rush), and then removed the magnet keeping the note in place with my fingers. I scribbled a quick response to Rin's note on the back of the crumpled piece of paper. It took me a while to find a working pen, though- and, in the end, I had to settle on a crappy blue pen that had been chewed through the end, so every time I tried to write the nib went up inside. That pen was one of Rin's many, many victims. She eats through like two or three pens with every English essay she has to write- and, as such, we never have any pens in the house that haven't been chewed to pieces because of her and her beaver-like habits.
It's actually incredibly annoying.
There are many things I like about Rin, but that isn't one of them. It's a terrible habit.
I can't remember what I put on the note. I think it was something fairly corny; something like 'I'm your wife? Fsssh I always knew you loved me, Rin'.
Then I poured myself a glass of milk and drank it slowly, my eyes fixed on the clock.
It was... about five thirty, I think.
I had an hour.
An hour to sit and wait for Rin.
And I didn't know what to do.
My heart was beating way too fast, and my head was shifting through various nightmare scenarios my botched confession could bring about so rapidly it felt like I was going to be sick.
None of the scenarios were very good.
Sometimes I hate being such a realist. It's depressing.
I actually contemplated making myself sick, just to see if it would staunch the nerves that were running through my body- but I eventually decided against that. Making myself sick wouldn't help anything.
N-not to mention…
A-and a trip to the bathroom could result in something else- and I didn't want to run away anymore.
It felt like the scars on my arms were screaming at me.
I forced myself to stay in the living room, sat on our cracked black sofa, staring at the clock.
Trying to calm my nerves.
I think my hands were shaking.
H-hell, I don't think I can properly describe my feelings... It wasn't just my hands; it felt like every single individual cell in my body was trying to split apart; some creepy mitosis reaction brought about by nerves.
By that point, I was more worried about hyperventilating or having a heart attack before Rin came home than being rejected by her.
I tried to watch TV, but the bright colors and laughter on the screen felt too fake- too forced- and the sound filled the round like angry buzzing. My hearing had turned super sensitive somehow, in my panic, and every little noise made me jump; every sound from the TV somehow morphed into the sound of Rin throwing open the front door and shouting 'I'm home!'
I had to turn the TV off. I wasn't even watching it. To be more precise, I was watching the clock above the TV; alternating between staring at the second hand that seemed to move slower and slower by the second, and turning my head to look at the door to see if Rin had arrived. The sound from the TV was giving me a headache, too.
In the end, I decided to humor Rin and really act the part of a 'wife'. I didn't cook- that sounded like too much effort- but I did get started on the ironing.
Setting up our ironing board is such a pain. The legs are too stiff, and it takes a considerable amount of man power (power I, with my noodley little arms, don't really possess) to pull it apart. I must have struggled with the damn thing for a good two minutes- which wasn't a bad thing, I supposed, because it took my mind from Rin.
Ironing was...
Well, it wasn't fun. It never is. Contrary to Rin's opinion of me, I do not enjoy cleaning. Neither do I treat cleaning as a 'fun hobby', as she does with volleyball. I merely clean because I hate mess. That's all.
However, ironing was a mindless menial task that gave me something to do. It was easy enough that I didn't have to think about it too much- unlike cooking- but it was distracting enough to take my mind away from my sister.
At least, until I reached into the basket of crumpled up clothes, and pulled out a pair of Rin's shorts.
Let me tell you now- not that you'd really want to know- but Rin's shorts are really short. I mean, yeah, they're shorts (the clue is in the name)- but, seriously. They shouldn't be that short. I'd told Rin time and time again she shouldn't wear such revealing clothes- but she'd only stick her tongue out at me, or roll her eyes, or say 'what are you, my dad? My boyfriend? Ha!' And then she'd laugh as though it was a really big joke.
Well, I'm sorry my feelings are so hilarious to you, Rin.
I'm sorry I care.
Sometimes I wish I didn't.
Y-you don't make it any easier on me, wearing clothes like that, you know.
Maybe, if you wore something other than those non-existent shorts and super-tiny skirts around the house- so short I can see your panties when you lean over- t-then I wouldn't be having those dreams.
Maybe then, I wouldn't feel like pinning you to the cabinet and making you whine my name as I trail burning kisses down your neck-
Sometimes, when I'm feeling bitter and vindictive, I think you do it on purpose.
Is that why Kaito buzzes around after you at school? Because of the clothes you wear?
Is that it?
That makes me feel sick.
It really does.
I hate it.
I hate it I hate it I hate it and I hate feeling like this and it's your fault and you don't even care.
I hate it.
All of it.
Sometimes, I even hate you- even though I love you so much that hurts, too...
I-I...
I...
...
...
Whoa.
I-I think I sounded a little bitter just then.
I-I'm not... Not really...
A-at least, I don't think I am.
Maybe...
Maybe this was something else I was trying to hide.
I-it wasn't so difficult admitting that I loved Rin.
B-but admitting that, sometimes, I hated her too... A-and sometimes I tried to blame her for my own feelings- when I couldn't cope, and the pain wasn't enough and it wouldn't make me forget; because, in the end, I was weak, and I had to lash out at other people, too. I never hurt Neru- but I hurt Rin. I avoided her. A-and I'm not sure if I did that because I loved her and I didn't want to hurt her with the weight of my taboo feelings, or because I hated her and I wanted her to feel upset that I'd no longer talk to her.
I-I...
I don't know.
Maybe it's a bit of both.
I-I hated hating Rin as well- because I know, deep down, that I love her really.
I do.
I love her too much.
H-how can you loathe somebody you love so much? How is that even possible?
Human beings are full of contradictions.
Y-you look surprised.
Did I say something strange?
I'm...
I'm really sorry.
Honestly... I'm sorry...
M-maybe I have some 'anger issues' or something, haha. You never would've thought it if you'd seen me at school, though; sat in my desk, staring out the window, lost inside my own head. Letting life roll past me like ever-moving scenery through a car window. I was quiet at school, honestly. A good student. A straight A student.
I tried to be a good brother, too- if you can believe that.
B-but...
It didn't work out too well, did it?
Was I shouting at you just now?
Did I raise my voice?
Y-you say I didn't?
Not too much?
O-okay.
Thank you.
E-even so, that's pretty... embarrassing... I don't lose my temper often, but...
But...
A-anyway.
It doesn't matter.
Water under the bridge, yes?
T-that's right. I knew you'd understand.
So, there I was, doing the ironing. I paused when I reached Rin's shorts- wondering if she wore clothes like that when she went to see Kaito... And I think I must have spaced out for a few seconds, because I can't remember what happened after that very clearly. It was a good job I didn't have the iron pressed against Rin's shorts when my mind began to wander, or I would've burnt a hole through them- and Rin values her shorts almost as much as she values her over-sized hair ribbon.
I didn't want to invoke Rin's wrath over something so petty. I didn't think it would create the right atmosphere for my 'moving' confession.
I could imagine it playing out in my head something like this:
LEN: Hey, Rin, I've burnt a hole through your favorite shorts-
RIN: What?
LEN: Oh, and by the by, I'm totally in love with you.
RIN: What about my shorts?
LEN: In a creepy, incestuous way that's unacceptable in most countries in the world.
RIN: I'll fucking kill you!
Not too romantic, huh?
It wasn't like I was hoping for candle light and soulful blues music- but I wanted my 'confession' (I hate that word) to be more meaningful than that.
As the second hand ticked by quickly (far too quickly) on the clock, my thoughts began to mash together, until I could hardly distinguish what each separate feeling was myself. It was a little bit like fruit salad; all the fruit misshapen and clumped together so the apples became kiwis and nothing could be identified anymore.
I'm sure most fruit salads don't look like that, but Rin's always do. Her fruit salad looks like an alien substance, honestly.
That's about the extent of Rin's cooking 'skills'- or lack of thereof.
Fruit salad and toast.
Not a good combination.
I think…
It's difficult to place names to my feelings, but I think I was jealous of Kaito.
Maybe I was a little angry.
And... above all, I was scared.
My heartbeat kept drumming in my chest- and I swear, I could hear the blood pounding through my head.
I was going to tell Rin how I felt.
I had to.
B-but it all seemed to be going so fast.
Time is strange, isn't it? It's meant to be linear. A minute always last sixty seconds- and a second is always one exact moment of 'time'. The passage of time never stops or slows; it just ticks forward constantly, never changing.
But to me, 'time' was oscillating all over the place- looping up and down like a line on a graph.
When I first came home, it had been moving too slowly.
As half six arrived, and I stood there holding the iron in my hands with Rin's shorts spread out before me, time moved far too fast.
I couldn't keep up.
It felt like I was drowning.
Every second that ticked past brought me closer and closer to Rin.
To my confession.
To rejection.
And those nightmare scenarios I'd dreamt of incessantly for the past three years.
A-and then-
I heard the front door slam.
My heart slammed in my ribcage, too; almost seeming to seize up.
To stop beating altogether.
Rin had come home.
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