Vocaloid: Re:VERSE [Miku x Luka]

4 | Miku

I don't go out much. When I'm not suffering through school, I'm at home, shut away in my bedroom and ignoring the ongoing world just outside my window. When I'm motivated, I'll listen to music and play video games, or draw crappy, disproportionate characters in stiff awkward poses; when I'm not, I'll sprawl across my bed and stare at the ceiling above, or sit by the window and watch the pouring rain for hours on end.

My best friend is the complete opposite. She can't stand being locked in the house, and she doesn't see the amusement in video games, either. Instead, she loves spending her free time outside, meeting up with friends, going to the mall, having fun, creating memories.

So, when word about a local dance recital started spreading like a wildfire, Rin couldn't contain her excitement. It's the perfect atmosphere for her; energetic people prancing around, clapping and swaying along to reverberating music and having the time of their life.

Notice how I said for 'her'? Rin's heaven sounds like my idea of hell.

"God, Miku," Rin mutters, looking around my small, cramped bedroom and clutching a faded blue cushion to her chest. She shakes her head from side to side, blonde hair falling over her face as she exhales a deep sigh. "This place is such a mess; I honestly don't know how you can live in such a state."

I follow her gaze. The room isn't very big, meaning it gets cluttered extremely easily — at this point, I've become accustomed to the mess. It's not like I have any kind of motivation to clean up, anyway.

Clothes are scattered across the floor, concealing the ugly brown carpet beneath. A medley of pens, pencils, books and eraser rubbings are cluttering up my desk, and the odd empty water bottle that I never got around to throwing away lingers mockingly in the far corner.

"It reflects me pretty well, doesn't it?" I reply flatly, forcing half a smile at the concerned blonde, who is sitting primly on the end of my bed and studying my chaotic bedroom through narrowed eyes.

Abruptly, she looks back up at me. "What kind of attitude is that?" She asks. Though her voice sounds strict and maybe even harsh, there's a sad undertone that I just can't ignore — it makes me feel so guilty, but I don't know if I have the willpower to make a change.

Instead of responding, I dip my head and avoid all eye contact, deciding to remain silent before I make the situation even worse. After a few moments of silence, Rin speaks up once more, her voice significantly softer. "Miku.. I don't know what's gotten into you. And, most importantly, I don't know how to help you." She shakes her head sadly and leans back, staring up at the ceiling above.

I bite my lip, the guilt worsening. Long ago, I was just as optimistic and outgoing as the Kagamine twins; I was creative and imaginative, I loved cracking jokes and making people laugh. I lived in a world of my own, a world full of butterflies, rainbows and unicorns; a world untouched by cruelty.

Though as I grew older, I was forced into the real world, and let me tell you, it's a much, much crueler world. As those around me became more and more obnoxious, I became more and more withdrawn. I found myself cowering from the spotlight, wanting nothing less than to be in the centre of everyone's attention.

It seems like a lifetime ago I was a bubbly, giggly preteen, pointing out cute guys and getting involved in whatever I could. That girl I once was is nowhere to be found anymore; she left not a trace.

Those I called friends all those years ago started then to shoot heartless remarks at me whenever I was trying to mind my own business. They would laugh as they pushed and shoved, smirk as they pulled my hair and tripped me over. Life became a living hell.

Luckily, Rin and Len took notice of the bullying several years back. They defended me, and slowly, the teasing lessened. I guess you could say they saved me? It wouldn't be an awfully far-off statement. Though, even then, it took me an incredibly long time to feel completely comfortable around them.