Why can't she understand? The desperation to help someone in pain… It was overbearingly strong. Try as she may, nothing would come out of her lips, so cold and cracked from the winter air, chilled to a crisp at the silent festival. What a night.

"Ah, we're all here." Everyone seemed so distant, and the lone sentence seemed to drift away on its own, encouraged by the silent chill. It was the only thing said, something meaningless and quite conspicuous.
No one spoke. Awkward shuffling was the only sound audible, with flitting eyes begging to be anywhere but there.
"Well… There's a few game stands," Rin pointed out quietly. Her voice was barely heard; no one even responded. Fed up, the small-figured girl gripped her brother's hand without saying anything, marching in the opposite direction of the group. Each time she walked, a cold sound plunged into the night, a sound unlike the small breaths emitted from the remaining few. Crunch, crunch, crunch.
Crunch.
Snow was relocated from its nesting burrow, thrown like sand across the smooth frosting which caked the ground. And more silence followed in its path, so awkward. Nothing could be done about it, right?
"Get a pep in your step, everyone!" Gumi, a stern face painted like a mask over her features, placed her hands on her hips and demanded that they all purchase some hot cocoa and relax by the community fireplace. It would calm their nerves and melt away the silence, she explained.
More awkward glances and movements were exchanged, although the group of quiet friends allowed the eccentric girl to lead.
The cocoa was expensive, Miku decided. A fair price for the others, admittedly, but being brought up from a rather poor family she felt as though the yen being coughed up left her with nothing to spare. Or perhaps that was a mere frugal tendency she possessed.
"Mm, this hot chocolate is de-li-cious!" Gumi chimed in a jubilant voice. She was really pumped for the Sapporo Snow Festival, Miku noted. "Too bad Rin and Len aren't here to enjoy it... Where are they?" The group turned their heads in every direction, searching for where the twins might have gone. No one turned up with anything, as Miku had expected.
"They're probably off playing those games," Meiko suggested bitterly, and a chill swarmed over Miku. There was absolute hatred in her voice, like poison being ejected from her dry lips. A short fuse, she supposed.
"Drink up, everyone!" Gumi cheered, raising her drink to the sky. It was an attempt to break the thin ice holding over the discussion of the Kagamines.
Miku raised the Styrofoam cup to her lips, tilting back her head, and allowed the thickly warm liquid to melt down her throat. The sweet taste of chocolate flooded her mouth, with saliva quickly rushing to greet the delicate flavour. The last of one sip vanished into her, and remnants of its smooth texture melded with her tongue. It was way worth the price she'd paid for it, and each gulp of the softness left her craving more.
"Don't down it all in one go," Kaito warned with a warm smile.
A silent nod, and nothing more. More silence as Gumi led the slightly happy group toward the community fire, where families and friends alike gathered around its flickering heat, drinking their own hot chocolate and warmed apple cider.
"Pick a seat, any seat!" Gumi instructed, spanning her hand over the array of seats which resembled freshly chopped logs.
Before Miku could even get comfortable, a soft tug on her jacket stopped her from adjusting the position she was in.
"M-Miku-chan…" The girl had barely uttered anything; her voice was but a small whisper in the night. "I need to talk to you…"
"Right now?" The teal-haired darling flitted her eyes about the scene. She confirmed the other VOCALOIDs were busy, and turned back to Luka. "Should we go somewhere private, then?"
Softly nodding, Luka raised a gloved finger to the left of her, and Miku, swerving her head, noticed a rather small and depressed shed forlornly standing still, quietly losing its last seconds of life.
"Behind there?" Miku asked, and received a gentle blue gaze telling her what she'd suspected. "Okay, let's go. And if the others ask where we're headed to, I'll just say… Um… What should we tell them?"
"The truth?" Luka suggested softly, Miku shrugged in response, and the two quickly walked off to the shed.
What awful luck. "Heeey! Where are you two goiiing?" Gumi kicked up the snow beneath her in protest.
"Luka needs to talk to me about something important," Miku explained.
With a warmly understanding smile, Gumi's disappointed expression quickly dissolved. "Okay! I can totally get that; you two've been friends since… Well, forever!"
Thank goodness. Nothing more was said, but Miku could've sworn she felt Meiko's disapproving stare burn into her shoulders.
Behind the shed was eerily quiet. Not even a breeze reached back there, nor did any boisterous chattering from happy friends interrupt its silence.
"Luka…" started Miku, thumbing her palms with anxiety.
Freezing crystals patterned down a soft, ruby glaze, colliding at the end and dribbling away as if they were never there to begin with. Hands greeting the trembling doll's face, hiding away what no one wanted to admit.
"Why are you crying?"
And everything. It came out all at once, so jumbled and meshed together in a tangled knot of aching pain, words clustered together as to form irregular sentences and Miku could hardly understand any of it.
"Luka, why didn't you tell me sooner?" She let her friend fall into an open embrace, and for a moment they shared depression together. She smoothed the top of Luka's head and lifted her chin so their eyes met. "Please don't be sad anymore."
The tears kept falling, and they wouldn't stop. It seemed that no matter how desperately Luka attempted to halt the rain, it kept pouring as though storms were brewing inside her. "Please… Tell me what I can do, Miku-chan… Please help me end all this…"
Miku said nothing. And she couldn't, even if she wanted to. There wasn't anything she could do.
Nothing.
"I can't," she choked out, and felt a storm of her own starting. "I've never had any experience with this… I don't know what to do…"
A high-pitched wail was emitted from Luka's shuddering mouth, raising in volume like a broken tea kettle.
"I'm sorry, Luka…"
What a night. Being that, it is to say, the last night.