Miniature Garden
DISCLAIMER: Vocaloid © CRYPTON and Yamaha. This story is mine.
(private star systems – little match girl found a castle)
The doll was not the first in her line, nor would she be the last. She was tentative, experimental in nature—she had two voices, a mother tongue and a clumsy second. She was brought into the world knowing that she was not the princess, and would never win the prince.
Even after her debut, the doll knew that many people still preferred the other singers over her; they were simply far more well-known. She would always be ranked the second or the third, never the first. It was a fact she had to accept from her "birth"; she would live and die with her music, she would perform with all her heart, but she would never be the most beloved of them.
…But one day, the doll was bought and taken home.
And the girl who breathed life into her cried when she said the standard "Nice to meet you; please take care of me, Master—"
She is not the princess. She still knows she cannot compare to the first idol of their family, but—in this place, she is still a princess, the only one.
She is still a very new doll. She has not yet reached her optimal level of performance, and her Master is yet very clumsy—through the interface of the software they haven't quite reached their optimal synchronization. But every day, both she and her Master are smiling as they sing together. The missed notes do not matter; her Master will praise her as they overcome the obstacles one by one, and she will continue to sing for her particular audience of one.
It doesn't matter if the world stops listening to her—
Her Master loves her, and that is all the doll needs. She cannot resent the other, earlier dolls anymore; she is sure that they all feel the same.
To the dolls, singing for the Master is their greatest joy in living.