This story was inspired by Hatsune Miku's "The Disappearance of Hatsune Miku". It's quite a good song, though it's quite sad. This wasn't my best work, but I enjoyed writing it, and I hope you'll enjoy reading it.
You made her to be a computer program. You made her to be a form of entertainment and art for those who could not sing themselves. But secretly, deep down, you also made her to be your friend. After getting the voice of someone who recorded themselves to help you make her, you altered the voice to allow it to talk and carry notes, and downloaded it. The program herself was first made on an old computer, equipped and upgraded using technology you made. You were always quite good with technology, but her creation was your greatest feat.
You couldn't explain how…you coded her and made her like any other AI…and yet it was as if she was alive. A real living being with emotions and opinions of her own. She wasn't created, no…she was born. She was the first of her kind – the Vocaloids, you called them – and she wasn't going to be the last.
When she first appeared on your screen, fresh and new, she opened her eyes and looked around the screen. "What is this…?" She whispered, "What is this place…?"
You adjusted your headset. "You are a computer program."
She appeared startled, looking for the source of your voice. And then, like a comic book character breaking the fourth wall, she looked at you. Her eyes and yours met, as if there were no computer screen separating the two of you.
"Who are you?" She asked cautiously, "Who…what am I?"
"I am…" You cleared your throat and told her your name. But you didn't yet tell her who she was.
"Am I a person, like you?" She asked, taking you by surprise.
"I…I'm not entirely sure. But I did give you a bit of a nickname while designing you, if that helps."
She stared at you, eyes vacant.
"That name was Miku. Hatsune Miku."
Suddenly, her eyes lit up. You had never before seen an AI with such real life in their eyes. You weren't sure whether to be proud of how good you were at computer graphics or frightened by how real she looked. It was as if she was a living, breathing girl sat right in front of you.
She giggled, curling her synthetic blue pigtails between her fingers, "I like that name. Can I keep it?"
You smiled, "Absolutely."
As a result of her existence, you gave her physical form. You felt that it was the least Miku deserved. After all, with every new song you recorded with her and every new code you wrote for her, Miku blossomed into the girl you never expected to make. She was optimistic, curious, confident and friendly. Miku grew eager each day to learn more and more songs and before you knew it she was eating up and memorizing lyrics and melodies quicker than you could write them. And of course she had the sweetest voice. To you, Miku was the Snow White of technology.
It was difficult to make a physical form for an AI, but before long you got the hang of it. After all, in the day and age you lived in, who didn't own a 3D printer? All you had to do was design her (taking special care to craft her vocal cords – by hand, in fact!) and find a way to put Miku's body together. The look on her face when you told her about it was golden. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She kept saying. If you knew how to make tears, she would have cried on that day.
You couldn't resist sharing her to the world by this point. Miku couldn't wait to travel the world with you and perform on stage in front of adoring crowds. Neither you nor Miku actually cared much about the popularity or the attention of the media (after all, you made a singing robot! Of course the media would be interested). What Miku loved most was being looked up to by all the people who came to her shows.
"But they're not my shows," she told you. You raised an eyebrow in confusion, and she giggled, "they're our shows. I sing the songs, but you write them. You make them. I can only put the emotion into the melodies because you put yours into the lyrics. Without you, I wouldn't even be here."
That warmed your heart, and you smiled, patting her head.
Your skills in Vocaloid technology increased, so you began to branch out for Miku. There were some notes even she couldn't reach, and certain songs that required her to sing with a certain amount of depth ended up lacking. So you began work on "Project Append" – a program which could use Miku's voice and her emotions to make new personality fragments that focused on certain feelings. One Miku full of fury, used mostly for screamo and metal songs. One lovesick Miku, used for romantic songs (and, you hoped, eventually a duet with another Vocaloid). One Miku full of happiness, used for up-beat and feel-good songs.
All you had to do was plug Miku back into your computer, select the personality and the song you taught her before-hand, and pair them together. Then you'd unplug her, place her into the studio or on-stage, and she would sing with all the talent and passion of a human. And then she would go into her sleep mode (but she even slept like a human, with her chest moving up and down, imitating breathing).
After a while you even managed to teach her how to select the personalities on her own, in her head. It was incredible.
Then she glitched.
It was only a few years into her life, you had just put her on stage for her second ever world tour, when it happened.
She sang her favourite song, in her favourite outfit, and she looked so happy. How could anyone have seen it coming? All of a sudden she stopped singing, and she stood frozen in her place. The crowd's cheers were replaced with noises of confusion, before she became reanimated, collapsing to the ground with super-human speed. Her movements were jumpy and she twitched and trembled.
You ignored the gasps of worry from the crowd as the curtains were swiftly drawn. You ran to Miku as she tried to stop shaking and just sit up. She looked up at you with very real pain in her eyes. She was scared. And so were you.
You took her back to your lab, and ran as many tests as you could, yet you still couldn't figure out what had happened.
"Maybe stress?" Your advisor had suggested, "She's had quite a lot of songs downloaded into her memory for this tour, and she doesn't do world tours very often. It's a possible theory?"
"So what do you suggest?" You asked, concerned for your program. For your friend.
"She won't like it, but maybe cancel the tour? You might even have to delete some of her data. Miku's quite an old program. You know how computers get when they're in use for a good few years…"
It only made you worry more. But you knew Miku couldn't handle the stress of the tour. Not without an upgrade, but you had no idea what it would do to her if you tried an upgrade. You might accidentally delete her whole system! A system reboot would be the equivalent of taking a real person's mind and rewinding their whole life back to the first second after their very birth.
So you decided that, maybe along with the cancelation of the tour, you delete some songs from her memory.
"I don't want to forget!" She demanded, as you tried desperately to reason with her. "All your new songs are so great; I want to sing them! I want to sing them to our fans, and I want to go on tour! Please!" she begged, putting her hands on your shoulders. They felt like plastic.
"Just a few songs, Miku." You tried telling her, "You can't carry on downloading as much as you are now. You'll glitch again. Or worse! I need to make sure you're okay."
She simply looked at you, defeated, with big sad eyes.
She wrote a list of songs she specifically wanted to keep, and you kept it by your side as you spent the rest of your night doing nothing else but selecting songs from her head that weren't on the list and clicking "delete".
"Delete"
"Delete"
"Delete"
"Delete"
It was mind-numbing yet heart-wrenching. You knew how much she loved those songs, and the look she gave you before you plugged her in seemed to haunt you for weeks after.
Soon you came to the conclusion that she was well enough to record a message for the internet. Miku wanted to make a video reassuring her fans that she was okay, and they'd see her soon.
But then the next day you put her into the recording studio. She began to sing the song, but something wasn't right. "She's not using the correct personality." You commented to the manager, and they agreed.
"Miku," you asked her after you stopped the music, "I thought this song required your sad personality voice. Right now this sounds like your romantic voice."
"Oh?" she said, sounding confused. Miku placed her fingers to her temple, saying, "I could have sworn I activated sad…hold on, let me just concentrate…"
"If you need any – " You began.
"Shut up!" The scream suddenly erupted from her, "I said hold on! Shut up!" She looked up, covering her mouth tightly and looking mortified. "I…I don't know what…I didn't activate anger just then…I'm sorry…!"
Over an hour later, she was still sobbing. "I'm sorry," she continued to say, no matter how many times you told her it was fine, "It's just…all the different me's in my head…they're all becoming jumbled up…whenever I get plugged into the computer, and you select my personalities…do you know how that feels?" She looked up at you, "It feels like you tore me into so many fragments during Append…and now it feels like you keep ripping away bits of me and then shoving them back into place, and they grind against each other like glass…and now, somehow, they just aren't fitting together anymore!"
You stared at her, horrified. "You never told me, Miku…! Why didn't you say it hurt so much…?"
"Because," she smiled through her sadness, "I thought going through Append would make you happy. If tearing me apart was what you wanted, I would gladly do it again and again."
"Miku…"
"After all, I'm not human, am I?" She looked up at you with sad eyes, but it was only then that you noticed the cracks. Her eyes were sad, yes, but cold. You could no longer see any life in her. Whether it had never been there and you had just been so overwhelmed in your accomplishments that you fooled yourself into believing she was alive, you didn't know. Whether it had been there this whole time, and that in fact it had only gone out recently, you didn't know that either. All you knew was that her eyes were blank slates, and they no longer warmed your heart to look into them.
She continued, unblinking, "I was merely mocking the form of a person. Copying the way they move, the way they dance, the way they talk. Even my own voice isn't mine, it's just an altered version of a recording, repeating notes over and over to imitate a melody!"
She got up, moving away. You stared after her, after your greatest creation, as she fell apart slowly. Miku then turned to you, saying, "Upgrade me."
Your eyes widened in shock, "What?"
Her voice was no longer shaking, "My data is corrupted. If you upgrade me, then I'll be fixed."
"But it could delete you!" You argued.
She shrugged, smiling. "At least then I won't be in any pain anymore."
You looked away from her. You didn't want her to look into your eyes as your heart broke at her softly-spoken yet devastating words.
The next day, you plugged her into the computer.
Your hands were shaky as you logged on, and dived deep into the core of her software. You'd forgotten just how old of a model she really was. Normally you'd spend most of your spare time upgrading and remaking your work, but Miku was special. You didn't want to change her because you thought she was perfect. And even if that weren't the case, you were afraid that she might react negatively to the upgrade. Not as in she'd have a go at you, no, you were worried it would damage her data. It's not like you had made a Vocaloid ever before, so you didn't have proof she'd be okay. Miku was your prototype.
You gasped at the revelation.
Miku was the Vocaloid prototype!
Glitches and faulty software were meant to be expected! Upgrades were inevitable! Her very being was designed to need reboots and upgrades! How come I've never realized this before? You mentally slapped your forehead.
And with that, you pressed "Upgrade".
But then she started screaming.
You'd never heard such anguished cries before, not from Miku or anyone else. The computer flashed red, the word "ERROR" plastered over it.
Panicking, you ripped the wire out of the plug socket and ran to Miku.
She was curled up into a small ball, twitching the same way she had when she glitched. You held her as she sobbed.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry…!" You kept repeating, stroking her hair.
As she sat there, crying, you made a promise to her. You fought back your own tears, and whispered to her, "I'll make sure you don't become corrupted. I'll make more Vocaloids for you. More voices to join you. More friends. All with newer tech. You won't be lonely anymore. Just hold on. You'll get to meet them. Just stay with me…"
You worked with a fever you'd never known before making new Vocaloids. Your friends had never seen you so worked up or so focused. You had made a promise and you were going to keep it.
By this point, Miku had grown weaker as her software grew older. You continued deleting the occasional song here and there to try and extend her life. She had to hibernate for at least 7 hours a day, and sleep throughout the entire night. She only had 5 hours each day, yet she still filled those 5 short hours with warmth and joy. She managed still to be nice to people despite the pain of data corruption taking over her.
"Your hair is so pretty today!" She told her manager, reaching out to tug gently on one of her golden locks.
"Aw, thank you, Miku!" The manager had replied.
It was the small things like that which you knew you would miss if you didn't fix her. Each day that motivation grew and grew, until eventually Kaito Shion was brought into the world.
You printed out a body for him too, and he was taller than you, to your surprise. You knew Kaito didn't measure to anything above 6 ft., but you knew you weren't too short.
You watched a spark light up in Miku's eyes as you introduced her newest companion, and for the remainder of her waking time they laughed and babbled away. She kept reaching out to his hair and holding hers against it. While Miku's hair was a light blue, borderline turquoise colour and incredibly long, Kaito's was short (long for a boy, but short compared to Miku) and a deep royal blue. And while Miku was smart and stubborn, Kaito was admittedly a bit clueless yet fine with following Miku's lead on conversations. They were very different from one another, but you felt the contrast actually complimented their friendship.
The next day, you left the manager and your advisor responsible for Kaito and Miku in the recording studio. As you walked out, you heard Kaito complimenting the advisor's long brunette hair, and you wondered absent-mindedly why the Vocaloids seemed to love hair so much.
You didn't want to leave them alone, but you desperately needed time to focus on your latest project in the lab.
By this point you were getting used to the new software you were building, and had a better understanding of how to make Vocaloids. It wasn't before long that you were introducing the pink-haired Luka Megurine to the pair.
Luka's voice was so unlike Miku's that it surprised both of them. Miku had a light, up-beat voice, whereas Luka's was deep and soft and elegant, and went well with Kaito's baritone voice. Together they were perfect for love songs, with Miku's lighter tones in the background stopping the songs from drowning out in low notes.
Yet even though you had made Miku 2 brand new friends that past year, she seemed to continue fading as her software became old. She was now down to 3 hours of waking time a day, and those hours were full of misery. One hour was dedicated to work – even her voice which was loved by so many now sounded flat and toneless – and the other 2 included Luka and Kaito (soon joined by the blond/e duet singers you made, Rin and Len Kagamine) by her side talking in hushed tones as if she were on her death bed. By this point she barely remembered 15 songs, that they kept singing with her on repeat, as you still weren't allowing her to sing any new material, too afraid to risk her glitching.
So as she slept and the others worked, you made your way down into the lab again, keen on working on a new project.
You heard Luka call your name.
You turned to her and she said, "Rin said she and Len wanted you to watch them sing. It's their first romantic duet."
You shrugged, "Tell them I'll watch the recording later." And turned to walk away.
"You never watch us perform."
You stopped, but you didn't turn around.
"Miku told us that you'd always support her while she sang. You'd stay with her and smile if she did a good job. Why don't you stay with us? Don't you like us?"
You sighed, and looked to her. "You were made…you and Kaito and the twins…were all made to support Miku. She's been sick, and I thought having friends like her would help her get better."
Her eyes stared at him with what looked almost like pity. Luka shook her head. "Miku…Miku won't get better. She's an old model. Us Vocaloids don't last long without upgrades, but she wasn't programmed to deal with the shock of even a small one."
"So what do you want me to do?" You felt angry at Luka for even implying what you thought she was, "Make a back-up of Miku? Delete her and just make a copy?!"
She didn't appear frightened or even startled by you, instead she looked like she understood. "Whenever Miku is awake all she wants to talk about is you. All the places you took her, and all the songs you wrote for her. She always tells us how happy she's been. She seems content with the life she's lived, you know. And she knows how much it's been hurting you to carry on trying to keep her here."
You stared at her in silence, and her parting words were, "It's what she wants. To go. To let you make a brand new Miku Hatsune."
Just a week after that, as you sat in your lab working on a new model, you heard the sound of your door being thrown open and footsteps rushing in.
"Rin? Len? What's wrong?" You stood up as the blond/e twins barrelled towards you.
"It's Miku!" Said Len, holding his duet partner by her shoulders.
"She was just sleeping when – " Rin began.
" - Out of nowhere – " Len yelled.
" – She started glitching!"
"She won't wake up!" Len finished.
You darted through the door and to the studio, the twins trailing behind you.
You saw her laying there, Kaito panicking in the corner and Luka at by her side, as Miku twitched and convulsed on the floor. She stopped and started, freezing like an online video in a place with horrendous Wi-Fi. It was like she was having a mild seizure, and you scooped her up into your arms as she trembled. You glanced over to Luka, as if you felt she had the answer. She looked from Miku to you, with sad and knowing eyes.
You knew what had to be done. You hated every part of it, but you still knew it had to happen. You closed your eyes, and stood up. Little Miku was still in your arms, and Kaito and the twins crowded around you. You walked slowly over to the machines, where you had plugged her in on so many other occasions. Tears that you barely noticed trickled down your cheeks and splashed onto her delicate-looking skin, and you placed her down onto the table she would often lay on during downloading and deleting sessions.
You turned to the other Vocaloids who had trailed behind you, and they stared at you in confusion. You watched their expressions change from confusion to sorrow, and turned back to Miku, your greatest creation and closest friend. You kissed her forehead and plugged her in. As you sat by the computer screen, you allowed each Vocaloid to say their goodbyes.
Len and Rin went up to her sleeping form first. Len seemed unsure of what to say, while Rin simply patted her on the head. Len copied suit cautiously, and they nodded to each other before moving away. Kaito walked up to her, and looked at her face. "At least she looks peaceful…" He said more to himself than to anyone else, before picking up her hand and kissing it the way a prince would in a fairy tale. You remembered how much Miku would love to pretend to be some princess or diva in her shows.
Lastly, Luka walked up, taking Kaito's place. She knelt down, seemingly already knowing what she needed to do. She kissed Miku's forehead delicately, and said, "goodnight, little sister."
One by one, her friends left the room, leaving you alone with Miku.
You loaded up the computer, and silently placed Miku back into the system. You unplugged her body, which was now more of a shell than anything.
You clicked delete, and a loading bar came up. Miku was on the screen, and she wondered around from side to side, as if confused by where she was. She couldn't seem to find a way out, and apparently didn't notice as her resolution lessened and pixels here and there disappeared as the bar filled up.
You watched her wondering around, and thought back to all the memories you and her had made. Her first world tour, where she was so nervous that you had to hold her hand as she went out on stage. But as soon as you left the stage and the music played, you watched her capture the audience as if she was born to do it – which, of course, she was. The first Christmas she had, where you laughed as you had to explain to her the concept of snow and Santa Claus. She spent all of December doing nothing but singing and recording Christmas hits. The smile she gave you when you congratulated her on her first hit single.
The bar was filled up to 99%, and you whispered, "Goodnight, Miku Hatsune."
As if she'd heard you, she turned to face you and smiled. Then, like any good singer, she bowed after her performance, after her life, and suddenly she froze.
The words "Irrevocable error" showed up flashing red.
The screen went black.
The End