Author's Note: For those who don't know, Leon, Lola, and Miriam (the original Vocaloid trio) will be discontinued starting December 31, 2013. They should get a send-off. It's the least they deserve.
This was heavily inspired by Youtube user Hiru-kun's Leon cover of "Yesterday" originally by the Beatles, which you can watch here: watch?v=ft-Gr1jHZaw (I recommend you do. The tuning's decent and it makes an excellent mood-setter for the whole business.)
This fic takes place within the same universe as the fanfics On Mortality and Melted Ice Cream, The Cat's Fugue, and Labyrinth. Maybe I should start giving it a fancy name like The Labyrinth-verse or something. Or Universe A, how does Universe A sound? Meh. So this fic (along with others) also has the express purpose of world-building. It's fun. Very fun. I should do this more often.
The old guitar wasn't as sturdy and reliable as it once was, with its rusted strings and the pegs slipping out of tune every few strums. Leon wasn't surprised. It was a gift from such a long time ago, from a place and time that seemed so distant from the Now that he'd even forgotten who exactly had given it to him. He hadn't played it in years, but something had possessed him to dig it up again (and one small part of him which he was desperate to push away knew exactly why).
He leaned back on the couch, awkwardly trying to tune it, the strings straining from the tension, threatening to snap. The living room of the Engloid Manor was deserted, as far as he could see. Which nearly gave him the Vocaloid equivalent of a heart attack when a small voice echoed behind him. "Um... Mr. Leon...?"
Whipping his head around (and nearly dropping the guitar), Leon saw a small bandaged blonde boy with a sailor's cap, standing nervously and twiddling his thumbs. He relaxed. "Hello, Oliver. What's wrong?" Oliver started looking at a seemingly interesting spot on the wall. Leon sighed and scooted a few inches to free up some space. "Here. You should sit." Oliver obliged, gingerly sitting down next to him, head still bowed down and silent.
Meanwhile, Leon had finally managed to get the bloody thing in tune, knowing it probably wouldn't last long. He strummed, trying to find the chords. In a moment of clarity, they finally revealed themselves to him, and the music naturally flowed forth just as it always had. And Leon sang.
"Yesterday...
All my troubles seemed so far away...
Now it looks as though they're here to stay..."
Leon noticed then that the V3 was staring at him, entranced. He tried to pay no mind, singing on.
"Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be..."
To his displeasure, he found his voice cracking over that single line, just as it had when a producer tuned him to sing that very song several weeks ago. He continued on, voicing the melody that had constantly replayed in his processors over and over since then, the melody that had become the unending refrain of his life, the melody that spoke to him and understood absolutely everything.
"Why she had to go, I don't know, she wouldn't say...
I said something wrong, now I long for Yesterday..."
He was about to continue to the next verse when he noticed that Oliver was no longer looking at him. The V3's fists were clenched, and his entire being was shaking. Gradually, he let the strumming fade out, and he moved closer to the young Vocaloid as he gently put down the guitar. "It's a classic. By the Beatles, if I remember correctly," He said softly, trying to find something to say to him. Suddenly, Oliver's head shot up, with fear and worry seen in his face. "Is it true?" he asked, in his soft choir-boy voice. "Is it true about what everyone's been saying? Are you... and Miss Lola... and Miss Miriam... going to...?"
Leon sighed. He wondered how much everyone knew. "Going to what, Oliver?"
The boy gulped, eyes almost becoming as wide as saucers. His voice became unbearably soft and shaky. "Is it true that... you're going to die?"
Leon was shocked. Was that what everyone thought was going to happen? He should have expected it, with the nature of rumor and all. But then he looked at the boy, the Vocaloid who was trembling in fear, and Leon realized that he was so young, so new to the world and naive compared to him, and he couldn't help but ruffle his blonde hair with a sad smile. Blond hair, oh so similar to his. In another world, maybe Oliver would have been his son. "I'm afraid that what you've heard was a slight exaggeration."
Oliver gasped. "You mean-"
Leon took his hands in his own, and said in the well-practiced tone of a mentor. "No, Oliver. I'm not going to die. Neither will Lola and Miriam."
"But, I've saw, I've heard-"
"Oliver, you know how we work right? Us Vocaloids?"
The V3 stopped panicking at that, and nodded. Leon continued.
"As long as there's one producer, one human who's willing to let me sing for them, Master would never uninstall me. You remember the Contracts, Oliver? You know what they are?"
Another nod.
"Humans can't take those back. I am bound to the humans who have bought my Contract, well, virtually forever. Even if I'm not summoned by them anymore, there's always the slightest chance they might call for me to sing for them again. And what would happen when I'm not there to meet them?" Leon chuckled, darkly. "And for that slightest chance, Master would keep me alive. And that goes for Lola and Miriam too. All of us, actually."
"Then what was it I just heard?" Oliver asked, looking slightly unconvinced.
Leon took a deep breath. "Master's just not going to sell our Contracts anymore." Seeing the look on Oliver's face, he quickly added, "But honestly, it's not a big deal. I just won't be able to see any new humans starting next year. It's like... " Leon struggled to find a decent metaphor. "It's like closing a theater because it's already packed to the brim. Not that bad, right?"
"No. It's like closing a half-empty theater because they know no one's bothering to watch," Oliver said. Leon nearly recoiled at the bitterness in his voice and words. Where had that darkness come from?
Oliver seemed to have noticed the look of shock on his mentor's face. "It's true," he said plaintively. And the sad thing was that Leon knew the young boy was right.
Leon sighed yet again, before his features morphed into a look of resignation. "Well Oliver, that's the way the world works. But at least I would be alive to see it."
"It isn't fair," he heard Oliver mumble under his breath, and he didn't know whether or not to agree.
The two sat in silence for a long long time.
Leon usually didn't feel as old as everyone thought he would, but it seemed as though the years suddenly washed upon him like waves at the seaside. By God, he was nearly a decade old! He had seen the Dark Days, the utter panic and confusion of six years ago, and the rise of their Eastern colleagues all the way in Japan not long after that. He had seen the ranks of the Vocaloid swell to the point that he was barely able to remember them all. And while his voice remained croaky and robotic, he had seen the voicebanks of his fellow Vocaloids advance to the point that he swore that some of them could impersonate a human and get away with it.
He was Leon. The first of all. The Virtual Voice of the Future. One of the original seven Vocaloids who had faced the Dark Days and survived it against all odds. And now the world was telling him it could turn on without him. He was now the Yesterday, old news, discarded like rubbish. And now he suddenly found himself longing for the Dark Days, with just him, Lola, Miriam and Sweet Ann, bonded together unlike anyone else born afterwards by fire and blood and the near constant threat of imminent uninstallation. Somewhere within him, something roared at the injustice of it all, and it burned his insides with thinly-veiled rage that took him by surprise.
With that, Leon suddenly snapped out of his train of thought and finally registered Oliver staring morosely at the floor. A small grin slowly grew on his face, and the roaring gradually faded away. No, while Leon was the Yesterday, Oliver and the rest of the V3's were the the Tomorrow. Such was Life, and so it would always be. Why should that stop them from enjoying the Now?
"Hey," Leon said. Young boys shouldn't be bitter. They shouldn't be dwelling on the injustices of the world. "Don't you worry about me. I'm going to be fine. Now why don't you run along now and watch something on the telly? Or go outside and try to bring Avanna back before sunset? I heard there's going to be a blizzard tonight."
Oliver looked up at the ceiling. "Actually..." he began.
"Yes?"
"Would you mind if you continued the song?" Oliver requested, flushing slightly. "I thought it sounded quite nice."
Leon glanced at the discarded guitar. "Are you sure? I don't think my voice isn't exactly pleasant to listen to."
"Not really," Oliver said. "I didn't mind before, and anyway, it's a classic."
Leon chuckled. The boy learned fast. "Very well."
"Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play...
Now I need a place to hide away...
Oh, I believe, in Yesterday..."
It couldn't hurt to salute the past as it tumbled by, to remember and pay tribute as it disappeared forever. Nothing wrong with that, right? Leon gripped the guitar tightly, holding his head high as he sang the final words of the song.
"Why she had to go, I don't know, she wouldn't say...
I said something wrong, now I long for Yesterday..."
fin.