When the small tape player blared out it's tune, Dell winced backwards. Was that really his voice he was hearing? He knew he had sung the song too low, but he couldn't believe it had been off by that much.

Rolling up his sleeve, he tapped open the tiny door on his arm to reveal the keypad and turned a dial. That stupid voice pitch changer hadn't done anything but make him sound even worse. The song hit another high area and Dell closed his eyes tightly for a moment.

"Take me to a nuclear reactor-" He shut it off immediately, not able to listen anymore. His own voice was enough to drive him crazy.

Sitting at his desk, he counted how many songs he could remember ever trying. Workaholic, Sunday Sunset, Meltdown...

Each tape sounded worse than the last, but this had taken the cake. Rubbing his throat slightly, Dell coughed and tried to sing a scale. All that he could muster were scratchy, sharp notes. Nothing at all like his Vocaloid counterpart made it out to be.

Stressed, he slipped a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. Leaning back in the chair, his eyes watched the trail of white smoke drift up to the ceiling.

In his mind, the events of the recording replayed. Haku had been there as well, trying to record a song of her own. Dell had to admit it, her voice was better than his own, but he wouldn't say it was any better than that. She was a Voyakiloid after all, she wasn't going to be getting better any time soon.

But the bitter reality stayed. Her voice was better than his. Who was his voice better next to? No one he could think of off hand. No one he could think even if he looked it up.

In fact, Haku had probably sung more songs than he ever had thought of. She was even gaining a bit of a fan base, something else he'd never believe any Voyakiloid could have. Most people didn't even know of his existence, though. Haku was number one. Haku was the only Voyakiloid, the only one suffering.

Now it didn't even seem like suffering anymore.

--

For once, instead of working like always, Dell lay sprawled out on his bed, arms behind his head. Another cigarette lit, another trail of smoke. He was trying as hard as he could to think of someone who was his fan. Someone who wouldn't be afraid to say that liked listening to the sounds a Voyakiloid made.

They weren't afraid to say it for his sister, but apparently for him. If they knew him. If they listened.

What if one day, Haku gained enough popularity to be a Vocaloid? What if she left him for them? He'd be all alone, without any hope of singing himself. He knew full well his potential had faded a long time ago.

He was just holding her back. Just 'the brother, the sidekick.' She didn't need him, did she?

"Augh! I can't think that! Haku would never leave! She knows that she's nothing without me! Nothing! I'm the one who supports her! Me! Me alone! Who cares about all the others!?"

Kicking around on the bed, Dell cursed to himself when his cigarette burned out. Throwing it in the ashtray beside the bed, he violently turned on his other side and continued to fuss.

He wouldn't believe it. Because it wasn't true. At all.

But what was the truth then?

Was he wrong?

Haku needed him...No, it was the opposite. He needed her. He was just holding her back. She was perfectly capable of leaving him.

"Don't leave, Haku," He murmured, "Don't go..."

--

He wondered vaguely if she'd gotten the note. His last words of farewell. It wouldn't matter though. Not now.

Walking slowly on the platform, Dell stared down at the piping hot yellowish liquid below him. Exactly as it had looked when he'd pictured it. Just like that song had said.

If there was any way to go, it was this. To just melt away. Even from up here, he could feel his gears melting slightly.

Standing at the very edge, dangling between life and death.

Mustering as much courage as he could, Dell forced a smile.

"Farewell, Dell Honne." He spat his cigarette into the vat and watched it disapate before closing his eyes and taking a step onto a thin sheet of air.

Free falling.

Flashes of life came before his eyes.

Waking up. Meeting Haku. Singing for the first time. Being thrown out. Finding a home.

Being with Haku. Smiling a rare smile with Haku. Berating Haku. Sleeping near Haku. Living with Haku.

Haku. Haku. Haku.

A lone tear fell from his eyes.

For a second, his body burned. His legs felt numb, then nothing at all. His arms seemed broken, then no pain.

Screams tried to seep past his lips.

Vocal cords melting. Wires welding themselves together. Metal forming into puddles.

The feeling of searing warmth on his brain chip.

And then nothing.

Darkness.