Chapter Text
On a Saturday morning, Luka Megurine was the first one awake in the building. That was a constant.
On those mornings where even nature itself didn't seem to be fully awake, when the sky was pale and the air was silent, Luka liked to drink tea. Thai iced tea, to be exact. And she would ponder to herself about different things that came to her. The woman's life was so regularly filled with noise that it felt wondrous to be witness only to, and being the only witness to, her own thoughts. With cerulean eyes only being focused on the burnt orange of a beverage clouding up into a creamier color.
20 years of living. It sure didn't feel like it, sometimes. Perhaps it was because the media was intent on keeping them all eternally teenager-y. Yes, Luka was portrayed as a "mature, womanly, mysterious" lady, but people liked that being brought out in a youthful way. A vibrant way. That was what the commercial smiles and the music sung boldly with lovesick lyrics made her realize.
But performing was their lives. For how different the six of them were, they all shared this burning passion for their music. It's as if they were created to act as emissaries of the emotions, the experiences of the people who wrote their songs. To burn the creators' hearts into their vocal chords and amplify it to the world honorably. Those wonderful people.
Anyway, sometimes she still felt 15. There were moments when the pink-headed girl remembered the feeling of inexperience, taking the role of a mere fledgling unsure of her capabilities. And her future.
She remembered the past, when Luka had known Miku and the twins (Technically, Rin and Len weren't twins, but everyone called them that. It rolled off the tongue better than "mirror images", anyhow.). That had been a few years before she had started with her career. The three, albeit younger than her, started striving for stardom earlier than her. They got engaged in private singing lessons, regional choirs, dance classes, instrument-playing, and dabbled in other arts. It resulted in their lives getting busy, and the four weren't able to meet up frequently anymore.
To put it briefly, they were childhood friends, but hadn't been able to talk much in the past few years. Until about some months ago, when their similar pathways met in the creation of the Project Diva games. The games that came before F and F 2nd were made using computer graphics, so this was the first time the group actively worked with each other in recording for such an extended amount of time. It was fun for Luka, getting to know her old friends again. Laughing with them, working and singing, it was all in good fun.
Except...
Len had changed the most of the quartet. Proud, but distant. That was the easiest way to describe him. Luka wasn't entirely sure that they were friends even now, when they talked every day. Miku rarely had a conversation with him at all. Meiko and Kaito, they hadn't really known until a year ago, which made him more so less compelled to talk to them.
She couldn't pinpoint when exactly they had turned into this weird thing. It was more like a series of occurrences happening over time that morphed them into this. Little events that flowed by, chipping away and adding like a river, slowly forming the foundation of their relationship into...this.
Luka knew she used to treat him like a little brother, years ago. Back when his hair was just the slightest bit more brilliant blonde, when he wasn't afraid to show that toothy grin she knew he still had in him. He was that nice, sweet little boy who gave her weeds, thinking they were cute yellow flowers suitable as tokens of friendship for older girls. But when the childhood friends had reunited again, Len was detached. Even Rin was like this, albeit to a much smaller degree. Luka assumed it was only natural. She read in a book once, "In adolescence, children tend to shy away from older figures in order to recollect themselves and gain a sense of identity."
It was obvious that Rin seemed to be not much different than her younger self. Still happy, still quirky, funny, sweet Rin. But, less naive. Just a tad bit quieter. More able to add to conversations. More mature. Even if the outside of her didn't indicate much change, Luka knew her enough to be aware of her growth.
A windswept field of slightly browned grasses. A field of tired blades that rested in the brisk autumn day. A cotton lump-scattered sky overlooked the scene, the peeps and utters of nature its only entertainment.
And she said, "It's pretty."
She was proud of Rin for that.
Luka understood why to someone on the outside looking in would think Len pushed her too hard. She understood why people kept their distance, why they tended to dump him on her hands, whether they meant to or not, and why Meiko thought he was just a jerk. But he really...wasn't. Demanding? Yes. Tactless? Yes. Selfish? Oh, yes.
Even considering all of his flaws, though, he didn't go out of his way to be rude, and he gave respect to everyone. He didn't lie, either. His requests to Luka were never outrageously difficult. Maybe those requests were made more often than normal, but...
Maybe I'm just too lenient. She frowned.
Her thoughts were cut short by the whir of the elevator coming down. She watched the doors open from the living room, setting her glass of tea on the coffee table. Out walked Len, in casual shorts and a white t-shirt. Yawning lazily, half-lidded eyes scanned the surroundings until they came to Luka.
"Speak of the devil," I believe it is in English.
"You're up early," she commented.
Len shrugged, having no other response to her observation. "Breakfast...please," he carefully added.
Smiling slightly, Luka nodded. Then she got up and walked towards the kitchen, checking what they had in the fridge. "What would you like?" she called out.
Len lied down on the couch, answering, "Something sweet!"
"Okay."
Pancakes should work... Ah, there's the syrup. The female took out the bottle of maple syrup, then retrieving the pancake mix from the pantry. She began the process of making the batter, getting the frying pan and starting up the stove afterward. Her eyes carefully watched as the light batter poured down onto the pan, a fragrant bakery-like smell soon wafting over the area.
Luka picked up a faint sound in the background; a low rumbling sound. Glancing over to Len, she chuckled.
Noticing her look, he blushed, shifting his gaze. "Sh-shut up, I'm hungry. And it smells good, so." He coughed awkwardly. "Just keep working!"
A few minutes later:
"Hurry up."
"I'm almost done."
"..."
"The stove is trying its best to make wonderful pancakes for you."
"The stove needs to make 'wonderful pancakes' faster to satisfy me."
"The stove was not built for that."
"The stove could be built for that."
"This particular stove cannot be built for that anymore, unless you dismantled it and rebuilt it."
"The stove could be rebuilt for that."
"How would you do that?"
"I could rebuild a stove if I wanted to."
"You could hire someone to do it for you."
"...It's less accomplishing." Okay, that was something she didn't expect to hear.
"Then, will you rebuild this stove?"
"Who said I wanted to?" And that proved to be more predictable.
It was strings of conversations like these that were somehow enjoyable. Amusing to just talk about something random, and see what his responses were going to be like.
The two fell quiet once more, and a little bit later, Luka was done preparing the pancakes. She passed by a fruit basket, soon stopping to backtrack. She looked at the bananas and took one. Peeling it open, she sliced it into several pieces, then putting them onto Len's plate.
"It's ready!" Luka exclaimed.
There was no response.
"...Len...?"
Luka walked out to the living room. Then she smiled at the sight before her; a boy calmly sleeping on the couch.
The woman approached him, sitting down on the arm of the couch near his head. She watched his chest heave up and down in a slow, steady rhythm and gently touched his messy golden locks. She remembered once thinking of his gaze as "unguarded", and it was a thing she knew she loved about him. But looking at him then, Luka thought that when he was asleep was one of the only times his face reflected that.
One of, she reminded herself.
A windswept field of slightly browned grasses. A field of tired blades that rested in the brisk autumn day. A cotton lump-scattered sky overlooked the scene, the peeps and utters of nature its only entertainment.
And he stays silent, promptly falling into the grass and admiring the simple beauty that surrounded him.
"Len." The name was murmured almost inaudibly as her fingertips moved down from his hair to sink lightly into his cheek. His skin was creamy, silky to touch. And he felt so...alive.
Very alive.
She liked it.
"Len, wake up."
Eyelids fluttered open, and he stared at her with those clear, lake-esque orbs.
"Tired?"
He didn't miss a beat. "No."
She didn't question it. "Okay. Breakfast is ready."
"...Bring it here."
"You're so spoiled."
"Am...not..." Len yawned in the middle of those two words, resulting in his tone coming out in a funny way.
Luka chuckled, shaking her head. "Alright, alright." Then she realized that she still hadn't stopped touching his cheek, withdrawing her fingers from him.
It was just the two of them that morning, enjoying a sweet breakfast in the stillness of the building. It was these kinds of moments were she rather appreciated this Len.