"It's not fair! I wanted a Miku! Mama, send him back!"
"Now sweetie, the shopkeeper said that KAITO's were best for beginners."
"No! I don't wanna stupid smelly boy! I wanted a cute doll to play with and dress up and hug and-"
"Well, you'll just have to get used to it. I know money's not a problem for us, but Vocaloids are very expensive and I want you to learn some responsibility. I can't have you getting spoiled. Mommy's leaving for a party now and I want you to play nice with your new friend. Okay?"
"This is the wost birthday ever. I hate you!"
The door shut on the little girl surrounded by the detritus of her 8th birthday party. Around here were mountains of gold and silver wrapping paper, shredded into confetti, that had concealed the most fashionable dresses, cutest shoes and every toy and doll imaginable. Yet none of that mattered, since she hadn't gotten what she really wanted. A Miku.
The subject of the argument looked at her, his blue contrasting with the overwhelming pink of the room.
"Little miss, do you want to play house, or dress-up, or tea parties? I can do anything you wish."
"How about turn into a Miku?" She pouted.
"Err, I can't do that, but I can read you a story, or sing you a lullaby."
"No thanks. I'm going to bed."
"If you change your mind, I'll be here. Waiting."
The next day, the chauffeur drove the girl to school. It was a gorgeous private retreat, tucked behind snowcovered lawns and walls of shrubbery, but her mind wasn't focused on the luxuries around her. She'd bragged to all her friends about getting a Miku the other day, yet here she was, empty-handed. Kristen had brought her Chibi Miku doll, and was avidly showing off its adorable motions and tinny voice.
"Hey, where's your new Miku?"
"Oh, uh, it's at home. Mom doesn't want me to get it dirty."
"Then who's that?" Kristen pointed to the KAITO standing outside the window.
"That's nothing!" she said quickly.
"I thought it looked like a KAITO."
"Um, Mom got me a KAITO and a Miku."
"Really? Then why is he here and not Miku?"
But she was already out the door and crying.
"I've got to get rid of that thing," the girl thought. "It's always following me, like a dog or something. I don't wanna share a room with some icky boy. I'll just drop it off in town and say it's a new game. It's so stupid that it'll believe anything. Then maybe I'll finally get that Miku."
As per her wishes, it was done. KAITO stood in a pool of light next to a gas station in a run-down part of town. Finally, the little miss wanted to play! But this game was taking an awfully long time. He'd been given a carton of ice cream, but it had long been finished, leaving only a sticky container. He stared at the graffiti and cans littering the street. The wind blew a stray sheet of paper across the road. It was dark, and cold. Not that he minded! He'd wait as long as it took. But his legs were getting tired. Without thinking, he sat on a convenient motorcycle seat.
"Hey you! Get off my baby!" yelled a youth with too many tatoos walking out of the gas station. KAITO was only able to open his mouth to apologize before a meaty fist slammed into his face, the force knocking him backwards off the motorcycle. Carried by his momentum, the bike also tipped over with a loud thud.
"Now you've done it, you little punk! Scratched up my paint job!" In a rage, the biker picked up KAITO and slammed him against the wall, then motioned to his buddies in an ominous gesture. "We'll teach him to mess with us."
The next moments passed as a blur of blows, KAITO's body smashed with whatever was convenient, fists, bats, not allowed to fall on the ground before the next one hit. A high pitched cry escaped into the night, then garbled into something staticky, more inhuman as his throat was crushed. Hair torn, clothing ripped, major damage when boots stomped on his arms, a motorcycle might have been involved somehow, he didn't know. A scrambling of circuits and damage sensors, sparking structural failures inside him, plastic skin ripping to reveal wires, vision going static going black, vocal errors did not compute, shortcircuiting on puddles, thrashing in conflicting signals as senses were overloaded, eyes wide in incomprehension and betrayal.
Then darkness.
Blessed darkness, blind to further damage, any more perversions done to his state-of-the art body.
Silence.
Ken cautiously peeked his head out of his favorite hiding spot under the counter. It was always best to get down and stay quiet whenever things got too noisy. He wasn't paid enough to guard this shithole with his life. Seeing that the gang had left-without paying, those fuckers-he went to survey the damage. Hopefully, it wouldn't come out of his paycheck.
The first thing he noticed was the strands of blue hair everywhere, like the aftermath of an alien cat fight . Then he saw the source of the hair. A highly advanced robot, smashed like a car at a junkyard. Limbs lay at impossible angles, and one of his arm bones was jutting out of the skin. He didn't know much about robots, but exposed circuitry was probably very bad. A blue scarf lay around him, useless, like a clipped pair of wings. Ken recognized the model as one of those singing robots he'd read about in the newspaper, a new toy for people with money enough to shit on. Too bad it was all smashed up, he'd probably be able to sell it for a fortune pristine. There's a thought, maybe it could be salvaged somehow. Yeah, his roommate was a huge tech nerd, could probably weld that baby up and patch it real good. His shift was over soon, he'd haul that hunk of junk back to the apartment and see what could be done.
"Hey, guess what the cat dragged in."
"Is that... My god, it's amazing! Vocaloid model 1.0 KAITO, complete with synth-skin, vocal range..." Tai blathered on and on. What a nerd. But hey, rent was cheap and he did come in handy for times like this.
"Do you think you could fix him up?" The question interrupted Tai from his geek-gasm.
"Sure, probably. Skin's cheap, and so are wigs. I'm not sure about any structural damage though, and some data might be beyond repair. Lemme turn it on and see what happens." He flicked a switch on the robot's neck and one dull eye flickered for a moment. Limbs twitched in a disturbing way, trailing sparks.
"Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-"
Tai flicked off the switch and sighed.
"Just as I feared. His old personality's corrupted, and I'll have to reset it. But at least that means we don't have to worry about it trying to go back to its old owner." Then Tai set off to worked it while Ken researched the retail value of used vocaloids online."
Turns out they had a terrible resale value, and further digging proved why. Certain types of vocaloids were insanely loyal, traveling across deserts and mountains when sent to the dump. Also, the creators had thought of every possible function for them. Every possible one. It didn't take long before Ken stumbled across a "fan" website that was just a front for poorly shot porn between some fat, lonely dude and a Miku. Urg, the internet. If no one wanted a "used" model, then certainly no one would want it broken.
At least the vocaloid had been mostly fixed. New skin had been sewn and glued in, resulting in disturbing "scars" that were covered up in bandages. They hadn't been able to find another blue wig, so they took a purple girl wig and cut it to his size. On a whim, Tai had given him a matching scarf, since the old one had been torn. Some bones had been fractured beyond welding, so Tai put his arm in a cast so at least it wouldn't be moved. One eye had been smashed, and replacements were expensive, so he wore an eyepatch to disguise the empty socket. Now the robot looked as good as it ever would. All that remained was to turn it on.
"HeLlo, MAstErs. My nAme Is TaiTo, AnD I Will bE hApPY to SErVe." It said in an oddly pitched voice.
"You named it after yourself?"
"I figured that it wasn't really a KAITO anymore."
"What can it do?"
"Mostly they sing. Some people have had success using vocaloids as maids or secretaries, but that needs extensive modding. I'd be happy enough if it could walk."
"Of cOUrsE, mASteR." It stood, wobbling a bit at first, then strode forward. "iS THerE aNY othER NeEd?"
"Yes!" Tai fistpumped. "The gravitational sensors weren't damaged! Lets take this baby out for a test run. To the lake!"
Apparently, as Tai explained, default KAITOs were supposed to be slightly clumsy, not from any inherent defect, but due to "cuteness." Tai had turned off that feature and was testing whether it worked. Taito was stable enough on solid ground, yet didn't seem to get the hang of ice skates. Ken didn't think that was fair, because normal humans had enough trouble with falling, but Taito seemed happy enough to sit on the sidelines and eat chips of ice, which he made himself. Something about a tendency towards overheating.
A shriek of laughter rushed by as he watched a little girl spin circles with a Miku standing by. They seemed to pay no attention to the crowd around them, bumping into people without apology, no cares from their selfish pleasure.
Something clicked in Taito's memory banks. A ghost of an urge possessed him, and he stood up, clutching the ice pick in his hand. With purpose, he strode onto the ice towards the oblivious little girl.
"hEllO, YoUNg mISs. dO YOu wANt tO pLaY?"
A/N: Of course, I think the little girl would probably not be very happy with the diva Miku. That's what she wished for, though. I initially thought about making the gang rape Kaito, but couldn't think of a convincing motive for them to do so. I mean, random gangbangs don't just happen, much as the internet would have us believe otherwise. I hope there aren't too many scene changes.
Well, like always, please rate and review. Comment even if you don't have anything to say because it looks good to have a lot of comments!
edit: FFFFFF errors