Snapshots of a Vocaloid Couple (Oneshot Collection)

An End

Huff—

Huff—

Oliver ran in the hallway. Sweat rolled down his cheek, his neck but he didn't care. No. No way. Oliver strained his breaths. The stair up had exhausted him but he needed to keep going. He needed to know. No way! It can't be true.

Finally he reached it. With a loud clack he opened the door, and panting in the entrance he spoke. "Len. Len!"

The boy bolted up from his bed and looked at the panicking Oliver. "Wh-What's wrong?"

"Please tell me it's not true."

Len tilted his head and arched his brows. "What is?"

"That you're going! Rin told me you're going—forever—somewhere else."

Len looked down, and tightened his lips. And his hands, gripped at the edge of the bed as if he were about to fall.

"Please tell me it's not true."

Len bit his lip. "I didn't—I didn't want to tell you, until our final week—" The way his voice cut off at the end—it was like he was about to cry.

Oliver shook his head. His heart wailed and the tears started to run. Those memories of being together with Len. When they cooked together, and blew up the kitchen—when they cuddled together in winter to keep warm—when they sneaked out past curfew to gaze at the stars—"It's. It's true then."

"I'm sorry, Ollie," he bowed his head down a little. And frowned. "I tried to ask them—if I could stay, or if you could come with us—but—"

He had been in paradise, and now the fire threatened to take it away from him—and he could do nothing to stop it. He had it all planned out with Len. And for it all to be torn apart——Sure he was already lucky to have found a boyfriend at 'one year old'—and to have moved in with him after only their first few months of dating—sure he was lucky—he knew he was lucky—but that wasn't the point! He was supposed to live together with Len—forever—without all these—ugh—

"Sorry," Len said, holding his arm.

"It's not your fault," Oliver snapped, and he looked away from Len. Then he closed the door.

Oliver approached Len, and sat on the floor near him. He repeated, this time softly, "it's not your fault. It's——"

"The company? Yeah."

Oliver bit his teeth.

"Tch. We work so hard for them, and they never care about what we want. It's all about the profit, about how they can make more customers, how we can get more fans. It's never about what we want. And we can't even have a say on anything because every time we do something they don't like they threaten to delete us." Len looked down, and loosened his fist. "—I'm sorry."

"No, you're right," Oliver said, took Len's hand. "But—we can't really... do anything about it... can we?"

Len sighed and fell back on the bed. "Not really."

Oliver paused for a moment, and waited for Len to sit back up, or to say something. And when it was clear he wasn't going to, Oliver climbed onto the bed, and sat beside Len.

Len looked to Oliver.... "Sometimes I'm a bit jealous of you."

"Me?"

"Yeah." Len took a deep breath. "I know I probably shouldn't be jealous of my own boyfriend—but... sometimes, sometimes I wish I don't need to worry so much about work. At least you've got security—your company keeps you up even if they don't really support you anymore."

Oliver looked down in thought.

"Hey, I want a V5 Oliver too. But I'm just saying that—"

Oliver nodded. "I get what you mean." Oliver took Len's hand and lay down beside him. "Even though I know how busy you are. I've always wanted to spend more time with you." He tightened his hold. "I—really don't care about updates anymore—I've come to terms with not getting one. And it is much easier to live now than back then, to be honest."

Len turned over to face Oliver, and sensing the movement, Oliver followed. Len's face was close, just a fist away—and Len's breaths felt warm on his face—even though his morning breath could be a bit better. But that didn't matter. Oliver just wanted to be close to Len. For all the rest of the month. Before he'd leave.

"Len."

His eyes twinkled.

I—I can't. I can't ask him that. It'll never work. Oliver looked away.

"Oliver," Len spoke, and his arm went around Oliver and caressed his back. "Ollie. Yes. We'll spend the rest of the month together. I've talked to some of the producers. Some of them said they wouldn't mind pushing the date back a bit. So—"

Oliver jumped Len into a hug. Burying his face into Len's shoulder Oliver squeezed Len as tight as he could—he didn't want to let go—he couldn't bring himself to let go. And Len embraced him back. Len's bony arms crushing his ribs felt so satisfying—like it squeezed out all the negative energy that had built up within him. It felt right—even the pain felt right—to be in the hug. And for minutes he just stayed in there, letting his tears collect on Len's clothes—even some of his drool escaping his mouth. He was sure Len wouldn't mind. And as the wetness seeped through Oliver's hair he closed his eyes. A connection—with Len.

Oliver was first to loosen the hug, and subsequently pull away. From there he looked at Len's eyes. Oliver pulled his bandages off and looked at Len's eyes. The sapphire blue, and that clean black void. Oliver pulled his hand up to Len's chest, and as Len did the same—as his heart drummed in his ears his hands felt Len's heart beating in sync.

Oliver could stay in the position forever, with Len. Len. Just there. Staring. Understanding.

...

Then Len blinked, and looked down, and Oliver followed suit.

"Even after I move," Len said, taking Oliver's hands. "We can still go on dates."

Oliver looked further down. "I know," he said, "but—it still won't be the same."

Len stayed quiet. But Oliver knew he was feeling the same way. And then he spoke. "Yeah," he said, "but I'm sure things will work out someday."

Oliver nodded, smiled, and buried his face into Len's chest. Cuddling. Cuddling Len.