The Labyrinth

After Miku's little brother is captured as a human sacrifice to a monster yet unknown, she unwillingly enlists the help of one Len Kagamine, a warrior with a hatred for monsters, especially the kind that captured her little brother. The pair must learn to cooperate long enough to save Miku's brother and escape the chaotic place known as the Labyrinth alive.

Pairings: MikuxLen

Rating: T

Genres: Fantasy, adventure, romance

Characters: Len K., Miku H.

I'm starting another story. Because I am an idiot. I still have Not Normal to work on and that other stupid Magical Girl one (which I will be posting a chapter of soon, if you're one of the people who was interested in it), but this idea has literally been around for almost a year. I needed to do something about it.

I don't plan on posting many chapters just yet, though. I sort of want to know what people think first.

The first chapter is from Mikuo's point of view, though Miku will be the primary point of view throughout the rest of the story. This will have about fifteen chapters and a sequel (because the ending for this is a horrible thing to leave you all with (if anyone reads this, that is)). I'm also interested in some new title suggestions. "The Labyrinth" is an incredibly boring title. So any ideas for a better/new title would be lovely!

So that's about it. Enjoy!

"Wake up."

The voice of calm, soothing, much like it was other days. Mikuo liked waking up to this voice; it was a lovely way to ease into a reality he otherwise found unpleasant.

The voice belonged to his older sister. She always woke him up. He couldn't remember the last time his parents had come into his room, let alone woken him up. Every morning, this was the routine. Miku made breakfast as best she could (Mikuo was glad her skills had improved over the years. She wasn't much of a cook), woke him up to eat, and left him to his own devices as she hurried off to get ready. She woke up earlier than him since she was five years older and had to head off to high school earlier. Mikuo was only in the sixth grade, so he didn't have to get up that early yet, thankfully.

"Wake up or I'll eat your toast."

Mikuo groaned and gave into the reality that he'd have to get up if he didn't want to starve. Miku might sound like a nice big sister, but she was a bit of a slave driver and really headstrong. Basically, she was never wrong and she refused to back down. Her way was the right way and no one else could do anything about it, including Mikuo. If he had his way, he'd be holding steady at a C- average with a room not unlike a dump and meals consisting of pizza and ice cream. Simply put, he was a typical kid. He didn't like control.

But someone had to be the mom and Miku took up the job swimmingly. Even Mikuo had to admit that. So he rolled out of bed with a look of sleepy pain on his face and shuffled to the kitchen, where Miku was placing the pan she had used to make eggs in the sink. She'd wash it before heading out.

Miku offered him a pat on the shoulder and a ruffle of his light blue hair before ducking through the doorway and heading to her own room, where she'd slip into school clothes and smooth down her hair. Mikuo would finish his eggs just in time for her to wave her goodbye to him from the front hall, where she would struggle to slip into her shoes as he waved sleepily back and trudged lazily up the stairs to his own room. This was how it usually was. There were rarely interruptions in this schedule. When they were, the two Hatsune siblings did their best to work around them. Well, Miku did. Mikuo usually followed whatever she said.

With feet of lead, Mikuo finally made it to his own room, which, while not perfectly clean, was neat enough at Miku's insistence. The books on the shelf may not have been all pushed to the same level and a few were stacked haphazardly instead of being placed side by side and a few socks may have found their way under the bed over the past few weeks but all in all, it looked cozy. And Mikuo did know where everything was.

Mikuo pulled on a pair of worn jeans and a t-shirt, not realizing he had managed to get the t-shirt backwards somehow. With a grumble of annoyance, he righted his clothes before yanking on socks. It was a process he didn't especially enjoy but did all the same.

Clothes are a pain, he decided as he scowled down at his now-socked feet. They didn't match but who would be staring hard at his feet? That would just be weird.

Mikuo finished preparing for school and found his bag tucked behind his door. It could almost always be found there. Inside, his homework folder and his reading book sat where they had been placed last night, after Miku had helped him finish his assignments. She herself had been swamped with advanced material she really didn't feel compelled to enjoy, let alone do, yet she had done her best.

Mikuo was really lucky to have her as a sister.

With a fond smirk, he slid into his sneakers and got his backpack on before heading out the door, checking once than tice to make sure he had locked the door behind him. He had forgotten more than once in the past, much to Miku's annoyance.

His school wasn't too far away. He didn't even have to take the city bus like Miku and her next door neighbor friend did. He was glad; the bus was horrible. The people on it were always weird and it was too shaky. Sometimes, when there were no seats, he had to stand up. The feeling he got while doing so was close to the stomach bug he had gotten back in third grade and his friend told him it was bus sicknesses. Now that he was in sixth grade, he knew you couldn't actually get any sort of diseases from a bus itself, but he had to admit he hadn't been very intelligent when he was younger. The thought that he could get sick from riding on a bus kept him out of one for a good year, during which time Miku had no problem showing just how irritating this was to her.

The familiar path wound in front of him, leading right to his school yard, where the older middle schoolers hung out in groups and his fellow sixth graders tried to pretend they were older than they actually were. He had told Miku about how all the grades acted like they were better than each below it and she had told him it changed in high school. No one really cared about age difference seeing as most everyone had reverted back to the maturity of an eight-year-old anyway. Mikuo thought high school was probably a lot better than middle school.

He was greeted by three of his classmates. Piko Utatane, Iroha Nekomura, and Mayu Yoshida were all in his class and by some miracle, they had ended up together for a group project the first week of school. Despite Piko's dislike for all people who acted without thinking (Iroha), Iroha's dislike for all people too busy being negative to care about anything (Piko), Mayu's shyness, and Mikuo's own inability to take sides in arguments, the little group became a tight knit cluster of friends.

"Hi, Mikuo," Mayu, who was usually the first to greet him, fulfilled her duty as she always did.

"Hey," he replied.

"Iroha's got news," Piko gestured to the pink-haired girl who was bouncing on the balls of her feet. She was the tallest of the group, followed by Mikuo, then Piko, and Mayu was shortest. It was a big deal for her and she liked to bring it up a lot, much to Piko's frustration.

"What is it?" Mikuo asked the bubbly girl. She had a large smile on her face, and it wasn't her typical cheery smile. She was genuinely excited about something.

"Miki's home from college soon!" Iroha exclaimed. Mikuo knew how fond the girl was of her older sister.

"That's great!" he offered his own smile. "She hasn't been around for a while."

No doubt she was visiting for Christmas break, which was no more than a week and a half away. Mikuo remembered Miki well. The girl liked to pick Iroha up from school and watched the four of them at their house a few times when they wanted to spend time together. But that was before her school year started. Mikuo thought he was quite correct in thinking they were all a bit excited to see the red-head again.

"I know, right!" Iroha grinned. "It's so awesome!"

"All the words in this language and you choose 'awesome," Piko scoffed irritably. This, of course, prompted an argument that lasted until the bell rang and they were seated in class.

Mikuo let out a sigh, though it was hard to tell whether it was one of content or exasperation. Probably a bit of both.

Mikuo did not like school. It was dull and stressful. Older kids always told him that it would only get worse and he wondered what they were trying to accomplish by telling him this. It didn't make him like school any better. In fact, it made him look forward to future years even less than he had been before.

That's why he always hurried home at the end of the day. He simply couldn't wait to kick off his suffocating shoes and have a go at the next level of his latest videogame. Or maybe he was excited to get some food that didn't taste like dust and rotting compost. That's probably what the cafeteria food was made of, he figured.

So Mikuo packed up his backpack, waved a farewell to his friends, and left the school yard, where groups of students laughed and talked loudly as they waited for their rides.

The cold air made him tug his jacket closer to himself, though it cut through the fabric easily. This was yet another reason to speed up.

As he turned onto his own street, he almost ran into a very tall man. The man took almost no notice of him as Mikuo attempted to move to the side. Only when he spoke was he noticed.

"Sorry, sir!"

Suddenly, the man's eyes found his own, and Mikuo's stomach dropped. They were animalistic eyes; red and deep as dancing flames. Their intensity held him in his place, though his brain screamed internally for him to run.

"It's perfectly fine," the man reassured with a sharp smile. Mikuo didn't even notice. He couldn't look away from those eyes.

"How old are you?" the man continued. Mikuo was thoroughly freaked out but for the life of him could not move a muscle save to answer the man's question.

"Eleven," he stated in a shaky voice.

The man pondered this for a moment, his bulky arm bending at the elbow to bring his hand up to his chin. Mikuo hadn't noticed how odd the rest of him looked but couldn't now. Why was he so frozen?

"Perfect," the man decided. "You'll do well."

With that, he swept Mikuo under his arm and vanished in a flash of vibrant purple light. Had anyone been there to witness this event, they would have promptly forgotten as soon as they looked away. But no one was there. And no one saw anything.

And now, Mikuo was gone.