Gah. Okay so there are a great deal of Subaru x Misora fans out there who think they look oh-so-sweet together and that their personalities just blend together perfectly. Fair enough over the 'cute' factor. People get like that over pairings. But…I actually think Subaru x Misora makes for some interesting conflicts. Misora is a lot more headstrong and impulsive than Subaru and very passionate about her music. Subaru however, is much more reserved and tends to get weary of excitable people. He also isn't much of a 'fan' of hers musically speaking. I honestly don't think they are as similar as a lot of people say they are. Sure they get along…but, meh.

Anyway, here's a view of how I think a relationship between them would really work out.


He didn't know why but he had thought it would be easy. 'Easy' being the key word there.

Misora was perched on the radiator, one leg lopped along the top bar of the mechanism and caving in on itself as the hexangular width of the bar rode up eagerly into her flesh. The other leg was banging irritably against the side of the white heating device, causing a clanging eruption of protest to arise from within its metallic depths. Subaru could swear it was groaning; Misora had that effect on people, especially on music productions.

"Misora…", he tried, voice trailing off into a thin and cautious silence. He was not an idiot; Misora had a similar effect on him too.

The girl's face was motionlessly, a rigid monotony of unfazed skin pressing over her jaw and forehead. No clenching of the teeth, no irritable snort or alternatively no lively smile, one thing that had been known on occasions to cheer him up immensely. However the fact that her legs were beginning to pucker up with a reddened bruise of heat was something that didn't.

"Misora-chan…your legs are burning…"

There was a slight tremor in one of her hands, fingers gnawing at the edges of a slender biro and making it quiver. The other hand was engaged in smoothing over a pad of paper on her horizontally stretched out leg, rumples of lines and crossed-out word dotting his vision with artistic loops and serves. Each hand seemed to be lacking something though, as if all they needed was the harmonious vibration between pen meeting paper.

Subaru knew exactly what was phasing her: writer's block.

It was something that had never plagued him apart from the sudden tensing in his nerves that she might hurt herself. In her zombiefied state she rarely noticed the outside world.

"I wouldn't sit there if I were you…"

There was a hazy sigh and Misora jumped as a sudden beep emerged from her wave scanner. Clearly, if Subaru wasn't going to do anything to stop Misora evaporating or becoming a deformed prune, Harp would.


Subaru could only roll his eyes at the yelp. She had brought on herself. Maybe next time she could choose to find inspiration at a café.

The redhead eyed the burnt underside of her legs with distaste, grimacing a little at the sand-paper like quality of her warmed skin.

"Subaru, why didn't you say something! Geez!"

She stomped off, taking care to press down with added vehemence at each step and leave a clear imprint of Misora-shaped boot ridges in a nice blue rug Subaru had been rather fond of. He had picked it out especially the week before and now let out a mournful sigh at it's dented state. He even ignored a rather worried cough from War-rock; no matter what the alien said or thought he knew he wasn't turning into his mother.

Oh yes. It was easy, this moving-in thing. It was the moving-in 'together' thing that was driving him up the wall.


It was three o'clock. Which was all very well and good except for the fact that the gap in in the curtains clearly portrayed the sky outside as being pitch-black. Therefore it was precisely the wrong three o'clock in the morning to woken up by guitar strings and the rising wail of a female voice that was just slightly out of tune. He groaned, rolled out of bed and thumped his way down the stairs.


The girl blinked, her fingers plucking at a string inquisitively as she turned round.

"Oh, hi Subaru."

Wrapped in nothing more than an oversized green dressing gown and with her hair tangled up into a ruffled nest of dark red that showed sighs of favoured tossing and turning on her pillow minutes before, Subaru was aghast. Her eyes had a faint tinge of grey beneath them, the same colour he had seen mixed in with hardened cement. It made her look old and tired. But there was a shimmer dancing in her eyes, green wires and fireworks sparkling within those irises. He could practically sense the cart-wheeling of ideas behind them. And he wondered how any girl could look so awful and yet so pretty at the same time.

"Oh Subaru, it was wonderful! I just had a…well, urm…an euphony of sorts! It was like all the words and notes came rushing together and I could suddenly hear what it was meant to sound like! And oh, where is that piece of paper…ARGH!"

He couldn't help but feel amused at the way she almost dropped her guitar as she launched herself across the kitchen table headfirst in an attempt to find her pad of paper.

"Damnit…", she grunted, before brightening momentarily as she spun round, wretched a pen out of her pocket and scrawled out a blend of music notes and lyrics Subaru could barely read; he would always have a gripe about her atrocious handwriting.


She ignored him before yelling when he grabbed her wrist and tried to wrestle the appendage out her grip.

"I pay half the rent! This wall is as much mine as it is yours!"

"The point is it doesn't belong to either of us! How old are you, five? You can't go writing on other people's walls!"

"I'm a celebrity, we're allowed to do things like that…people expect us to be eccentric. Trust me, the landlord will laugh it off!"

"Yeah, I trust your ability to predict the future as much as I trust War-rock to not cheat at video games!"

They both ignored the muttered 'hey' and blinked at the loud crack of the pen; a barrage of ink swept over their hands and ran down their arms. Misora even had a few freckles of black on her face.

They paused for a minute.

"Want some coffee?" Subaru offered.

Misora shook her head, sporting a grin that looked menacing in the pale, humid light of the kitchen.


"We are not drinking alcohol."

After the yelling had died down, War-rock and Harp were not really surprised to find a substantial amount of both coffee and alcohol missing in the morning.


Subaru was clever; clever enough to teach himself some new tricks. And so it often fell to him to calculate their living expenses and work out a budget. Having lived the glamorous lifestyle of a pop star, Misora had a rather…distorted view of how much money the bank classified as 'overdrawn' and 'debt'. She liked the look of concentration that passed over her friend's face as he worked though.


He looked up, surprised to see her suddenly looking so unsure of herself, small arms huddling criss-crossed over the back of a chair in a pink sweater. It looked as though it might swallow her whole.


She smiled, one end a lot more crooked than the other.

"Marry me?"

He blinked as his brain leapt into his throat, temporarily blocked his trachea and attempted to murder him before it somersaulted back into his skull.


She pumped her fist into the air.


And ran whooping to fetch her guitar and put her joy into a synchronised format of words and beats.

"Wow," Subaru muttered, "I'm getting married to a crazy person. It's me that's ruining my life, not War-rock."

By the end of the day, Subaru was regretting his decision already; a sheepish Misora had burnt the dinner, shrunk some of his shirts and accidentally swapped the shampoo with pink hair dye. It was only after he straightened out her mistakes that he realised that it wasn't him that was going to get a new wife, it was her.

War-rock of course, found the whole thing hilarious.


"Wow", said Misora later that night and seeing a shooting star out of the corner of her vision, "just wow."

Subaru agreed. This moving-in 'together' thing really was a piece of cake.


All you people who think Subaru would wear the pants in the relationship…yeah, right.