Author's Note: This one-shot has absolutely NOTHING to do with Facedown, so there are no spoilers ahead. It is a bit sad, though, and you might not want to read if you're in a good mood presently. C:

I don't own VOCALOID or its characters.

My dear friend,

Ever since you left…I feel kind of…broken. Sliced into smithereens. Shattered like a vase some careless child knocked over as he stormed by.

I wish you could return to me. Just so I could touch your soft face…breath in your scent…kiss you like I was never allowed to do.

Your blue hair, twin pigtails on either side of your head-at first I hated them. But I grew to find them beautiful, just like I never realized you were until you were gone. I only saw how deeply I cared for you until you…abandoned me. Left me here by myself. Sent me packing.

It wasn't really your fault. I mean, it's not like you ran off with some other girl. It wasn't you who drove into the lake. It wasn't you who chopped yourself up into dozens of pieces, arms, legs, and head all separate from one another.

I don't think I deserved you, anyway. You were much too good for me. My heart couldn't have been warmer, though, and it was only that way when we were together.

Not anymore.

I used to think of sunshine and happiness when I imagined you beside me. Now…now I see black clouds blocking the once-glimmering sun, gloom, despair, and all things dark buzzing in my dull mind.

My face feels chalky, along with my palms. My lips are peeling from biting and licking them time and time again. Feet as heavy as stones, I can't even stand to walk to the store. It feels like I'm balancing on pool balls and stuck in a back brace, unable to move correctly or even blink without the pain crashing down upon my head.

You wrapped me in your warm embrace so many times, saying how I was your best friend, best friends forever. You never noticed how profusely scarlet my face grew, how harshly it burned with my crooked-toothed smile.

Your smile was jubilant, beautiful just like the rest of you, down to your core, your soul, the complete opposite of me.

I want to break, crack as if I were held together by stale glue-which I believe I am. I think that, with you, I was bound snugly at the edges by you, simply you, but as you faded away into the light, I gradually, slowly, wreck like a car into a road barrier.

I can only imagine the horror you felt as he lifted the knife and hacked you away, like a woodcutter would to a tree stump.

Break you down into nothing.

Nothing.

I am ruined.

I want to tell my story, speak it to the world. To announce my love for you. Boldly declare that you were perfect, you still are perfect, even if you're…you're…

You're dead.

I hate saying that word. Dead. It carries such a terrible image with it.

Graves. Morgues.

Bodies.

Hacked into pieces.

And a disembodied head, floating down the murky river, turquoise eyes wide open in stale terror as the brown water washes into your mouth and aquatic animals take experimental bites of your flesh.

Dead.

It's like they pulled the plug on a computer while an important program was running-it leaves you suspended in grief, terrible grief for your lost computer and software. Gone. Completely gone, and for eternity.

I want to run far away, away from the memories. But I don't want to leave where you lived…where your body is buried, and I bring you a flower every day. Daisies, your favorite. I know these things because we were best friends.

We are best friends.

Always and forever.

I'm going to leave this on your grave, Miku.

We will see each other soon.

I will be in the grave next to yours. I've bought a gun with my allowance money. I'll finally see you, and get to tell you.

I will always love you.

-Luka Megurine