a/n: hi, just a quick heads-up; i found some unfinished bits of this on my old computer and thought they were hella cute so i'm posting the bits here and i'll continue the story whenever i think of it. when it's done, i'll cross-post the entirety of this bad boy on my ao3.

also, i do, in fact, not remember where i was going with this. this could be a problem, but prolly not.

Kagamine Len had never been one for routine, really.

Sure, he went to uni whenever he had class, worked his never changing shifts, always went to the same grocery stores and bought the same things and maybe he also had a fixed bedtime. So what. It wasn't routine as much as it was a neccesary evil in order to live like a decent human being while attending university.

But despite all that, there was one part of his day that had become an everyday habit by now.

At exactly 6.45 every morning, he'd grab his keys and his phone (alongside his favourite pair of overly expensive headphones) and go for a casual jog. He'd head two blocks westwards, would run a few circles around the ponds in the park before heading back home a lane over. Had Kagamine Len been a simpler person, he would have started his jogging-routine out of pure concern for his own health. He, however, wasn't that simple a person and physical activity so early in the morning wasn't quite his cup of tea, either.

God knows what had motivated him to go for a run in the first place, but the morning he had taken off had turned out to be one so ridiculously fateful that it made him exercise well before he needed to get out of bed in order to not miss class; a tiny florist shop at the corner of the lane leading back home was what had him brave any kind of weather and all the sleepiness in the world.

It was a romantic little store that managed to smell better than the bakery two houses further down the road, but that was hardly what kept Len coming there. Besides it still being closed at the asscrack of dawn, he had never particularly cared for flowers. Although he supposed they were nice enough, what really made him come back every day was the store's owner.

Always looking ready to murder someone, the guy in question probably wouldn't strike anybody as someone who surrounded himself with the beauty of flowers all day long. In fact, he didn't look like someone who surrounded himself with anything. He came across as bored and slightly upset, never one to get involved with others, which was probably why Len had decided to go bug him whenever he could in the first place.

They had met on That Fateful Day (TM) when Len had almost run into him while he was busy emptying buckets of water into the gutter before his shop and, as an apology for nearly stomping him, Len had offered to help with the water. The guy had attempted to cook him alive with only a glare before, at last, shrugging and allowing it. He'd introduced himself as Piko and only ever threw insults and snide remarks at Len, but he'd borne with it and even offered to help him out some other time again. Piko had, in turn, told him to come by every day and do whatever chores he himself didn't feel like doing and of course he'd taken it to heart.

Nevertheless, Piko had been shocked when Len had dropped by the next day.

And that was the whole reason why Len had settled into the routine of going for a jog in the morning. He couldn't tell what exactly made him help Piko- he really couldn't- but somehow, he felt compelled to make his usually sullen, miserable expressions a little less sullen and miserable. Most of the time, he made the other feel worse, but he could deal with that much.

And deal with it he would.