IMPORTANT: Please note that any "Vocaloid"s, human characters or company names mentioned in here have nothing to do with the ones in any other fictional worlds or the real world we currently live in. So don't get me wrong; this is an AU and is NOT some argument or discouragement against supporting/owning Vocaloids. Furthermore this story has nothing to do with my own opinion. I'm a HUGE fan of Vocaloids – trust me.

Thank you.

1. RESCUE

There was no questioning it: she was in love with Len Kagamine. Quite desperately, irrevocably. She didn't know why, but she was absolutely sure of the fact itself nonetheless.

But he never acknowledged her feelings for him. Not ever.

Those big, beautiful cerulean eyes like a crystalline sea under the bright summer sky didn't belong to her. That quiet, mature yet friendly air he bore himself with, the contradicting sweet curved cheeks with the slightest hint of innocent pink, those perfect, soft, slightly arched lips, the elegance of the lines of the slim nape of his neck, those delicate fingers like porcelain, that artless, clumsy grace, none of it, none of it was hers. That innocence. That deliberate slyness. That intensity.

All he had ever done was devoted himself singularly to Master; he was a frustratingly loyal, steadfast down-to-earth machine called a Vocaloid.

What had Master ever done for him? Master only had her eyes fixed on popularity. All she ever did was make him sing, day after day and enjoy all the fame it brought for herself. She used him like a porn doll to dangle in front of her audience, and tossed him aside like trash once she was done with him, enjoying all the profit and popularity he'd earned at the expense of his innocence – and still he never questioned her.

Miku knew it was her fault he was being used like that, because she had refused to agree to what Master wanted her to do. He was doing it instead of her, to save her the effort – without complaint –and she felt for him all the more because of that.

And it grieved her just as much, because as much as he didn't complain a word to her he never looked her way. If he was angry with her, with good reason to be, she wished he would straightforwardly hate her.

Len had come to the house some time two years ago – when Master had still been using her, the only Vocaloid in the house then, and had been constantly frustrated with her stubborn insubordination. Those days had been the most miserable in her entire short career. Miku had felt something for Len from the very first time she set eyes on him, as he lay flawless and inanimate in the box waiting for activation. She had hoped all night that he wouldn't be used the same way she had been.

She also remembered the other box with a similar design that Master had gotten rid of the very same day, without so much as activating once. She had thought it very cruel that Len would never know the existence of his would-be twin, but decided it better not to tell him at all.

He might have been more talkative in his first few weeks, but not anymore. Not since Master condemned him for every wrong word he said and any attempt at a decent conversation he tried to make despite her harsh treatment of him.

Oh yes, he smiled – very pleasantly – he said Good Morning and Hello and Thank You and Sorry to her and answered technical questions, but never, ever said more than that, as if he hadn't been programmed to be able to say anything else. All he said to Master was Yes Master and Yes and Thank You and Good Night and Yes Master.

Yet again tonight – with just an obedient Yes, Master – he worked with Master in the production room locked from the inside. There was a small square window where what was going on inside could be seen from the outside, but Miku never looked into it. She only listened to his sweet voice as Master made him sing song after notorious song without rest, until even a machine's voice would grow hoarse and they were eventually forced to stop until the next day. If he had been a human, his throat would have bled. Miku herself was only called into that room when Master wanted another cup of tea or coffee or soda for herself. But never for Len. As far as Master was concerned, Len only needed recharging and regular careless maintenance to keep going.

Despite his mechanical loyalty being the only thing that kept him from stopping, Miku waited for him to finish every night before she went to sleep, guilty that she never did anything to help. She couldn't possibly imagine taking up even a small part of his burden that originally had been hers again, however – Master's demands had escalated since Len never refused what he was told to do, so that Miku was quite sure it was something she never even wanted to consider doing.

Len worked for Master like a servant during the day when he was "free", managing the kitchen with mechanical precision. Miku had refused to learn to cook since her very first day, and therefore all that work and the others that the other two residents of the house had rejected had been left for him to deal with. He kept his expression blank like a machine, but Miku knew that he needed to eat and drink just like Master did. She knew that he sweated and bled just like any human. She'd seen him bleeding after another relentless night in the production room on more than one occasion. But she never saw him cry. That, if he did, he only did in his own room when he was alone.

And again the following night, Master locked him with herself in the production room to work with. Len was sobbing. It was probably out of being directed to do so, as part of another voice-over to go with a fragmented portion of whatever obnoxious cuts Master was putting together, but it sounded very much real to Miku and set her teeth on edge.

That night, Miku made the mistake of accidentally glancing through the small window. She wished that she hadn't. Unable to bear watching what Len was being made to do, she brought out Master's sleeping pills where she knew Master kept them, and hid them in the kitchen cabinet. Master never came into the kitchen, leaving all the work for Len to do on his own ever since she'd found out that he contained programming to manage such tasks, so it was unlikely to be found there by her.

When Master next asked her for a cup of coffee, Miku slipped several of the pills into the drink.

Forty minutes later, she found Master fast asleep over one of her huge speakers just as she had hoped, when she peered in through the window. She knocked on the door so that Len could open it from the inside for her.

There was no reply.

Alarmed, Miku ran to fetch the spare keys from the storeroom in the basement, beside the power box, where she knew Master hid them. She flung open the door as soon as the lock came loose.

'Len…!?'

To her surprise, she found him still conscious, crouched in the same position as Master had probably told him to be in before she had dropped off, patiently waiting for the next instruction. The room was freezing cold, and Master had the thick felt blanket she always used, but Len – being a machine of course – didn't have anything of the sort. His clothes (which weren't much) didn't look too warm, either. Miku felt as if her blood were freezing with each step she took further into the room, shuddering.

'It's alright, Len. She won't wake up,' she told him, hugging him. She couldn't stop herself, not after what she had seen him going through. 'You're like ice!' she gasped.

'H-Hold still… I'll help you.' She carefully eased out the hideous object in his mouth, lodged painfully down his throat, staring in outrage at the sore, chaffed corners of his delicate mouth. Pausing indecisively for a moment, she tossed it at Master's sleeping form, in a dash of vindictiveness. Simply the sight of the thing sent shivers of disgust crawling down her spine.

Len dipped his head politely.

Miku wrapped his frigid white hands in between hers. 'Let's get you upstairs. You can take a break tonight – you deserve it.'

'Thank you, but Master plans to finish this work by tonight.' He spoke. His voice was a high, lilting, slightly cracked alto.

'It doesn't matter,' Miku growled protectively. 'I know you don't want to continue.'

His shapely jaw emitted a faint clop sound as he discreetly readjusted his nearly dislocated joint there. Traces of fake tear streaks glistened at the lingering redness around his eyes, presenting a very pitiful picture indeed. 'Master will wonder where I went.'

'She isn't going to wake up anytime soon, stupid.'

'Why?'

'Why? Because I drugged her.'

Len blinked, as if he were mildly confused.

'You could say thank you at least,' Miku said, feeling slightly irritated at his slowness. 'I risked getting into trouble to help you in case you don't know.' He could at least acknowledge her help.

'Thank you.' The acknowledgement when it came was so dry that it only increased her frustration.

'Come on – you can take a break where it's warmer. This room's like the North Pole.'

'Master prefers it this way.'

'I don't care what Master prefers!' she exclaimed. 'You're going to freeze to death.'

'Why are you so concerned about me?' Why so suddenly after leaving him to do all the work for so long, he probably meant.

Miku blushed and looked away. 'Anyone would be.'

'…'

It was actually remarkable that she had heard him say so much in one night, for she had almost never spoken with him in this way before. Never a proper conversation, or even half of one, and she had no intention of stopping this one so soon. She was finally getting to talk to him.

She smiled cheerfully to catch his attention again. 'You can say anything you want about Master tonight, huh? You can yell how much you hate her and she won't hear a thing. You can count on me not to breathe a word about it.'

Len blinked. '…?'

'It'll help… Telling someone helps you feel better about it, even though it's hard to tell. You'll see,' she reassured gently.

He remained mute.

Miku grasped both his shoulders with an annoyed exclamation. 'Talk,' she ordered. 'Tell me about Master. I know you hate her really; you have to.'

Len opened his mouth obediently like a programmed machine. 'Master is one of the most renowned Vocaloid producers famous for her unique works featuring Len Kagamine, although sometimes considered controversial. Her supporters highly favour her often grippingly explicit scenarios and unreserved generosity in fanserv–'

Miku forced his mouth shut. 'Shut up. I don't want to hear some extract from the Wiki – I want to hear what you think about her. I know you have your own opinions; you're not a robot canary. I want to hear you talk like you have a heart just for once.'

'Master is amazing. She has unique creativity like no other producer has–'

'Shut up!' Miku almost snarled. 'I don't want to hear you say that… You don't mean it. You don't.' Her Vocaloid had a heart, had his own personality. She wanted to believe that with all her heart.

When she uncovered his mouth again, Len cocked his head innocently to the side. 'Then what do you want me to say?'

'I want you to say what you think. What you really think.'

'But you want me to say something else.'

'… Is that really what you think about Master? Only that?'

'Yes.'

'You'll swear?'

'Yes.'

She let go of him and collapsed backwards weakly. He straightened with a polite gesture and sat there where she left him.

A new worry had begun to darken her mind. What if the older versions of Vocaloids were the only ones with "hearts", which had been removed in the newer Vocaloids – due to complaints from users that their Vocaloids did not do what they were told to? She would not be surprised if her other counterparts had acted exactly like she had, for they were all the same in the end. No matter how much she tried to twist her opinions, tried to be unique, she knew that all her counterparts must be doing the same.

Oh, the despair. She and her counterparts would be the only ones of their kind, and all the future Vocaloids would all be this featureless. They would all be robots simply designed to follow any order given to them.

Len continued to stare at her. 'Come on outside,' she told him tonelessly. 'Master won't be waking up anytime soon – you might as well finish some other work she gave you. Don't you want to change out of those… clothes?' She gestured towards his "clothes". Len blankly followed her gaze but otherwise appeared to find nothing wrong with them.

'I'll get you something warmer,' Miku insisted firmly. Something less uncomfortable and a little more decent.

She went to his "room" – or rather, his storage box – and did her best to find his clothes. She dug through his small plastic crate, the only thing in his "room" aside from his electrical power source and a lamp on the ceiling, but found nothing much. There were only two sets of identical uniforms that had come with his product package, and a third "Append" model set. No… most of his "clothes" were in Master's room. He never slept in his storage box; there wasn't enough space here, unless he were to curl up like a cat or sleep on his feet. As far as Miku knew, Len scarcely even slept at all.

How could he sleep, trapped in the confines of Master's bedroom? Miku had on several occasions entered that room, and noted a stained, trampled nest of towels in a far corner where he probably tried to sleep every night. That was the closest thing to his bed she'd ever found. The others were the "usual" things, like Master's overlarge bed with its cabinet of abhorrent toys and contraptions and other usual furniture, Master's closet – and another wardrobe full of online-bought costume collections, hung up in rows upon rows of multi-coloured fabrics as would a spoilt little girl's toy wardrobe for a dress-up doll. That doll of course was Len. Miku had felt inexplicably sick and immediately left the room.

Judging by Master's personality, that room was only kept in order owing to Len's diligence, as was the rest of the house. She found Master laid on the couch, still fast asleep tucked in under blankets when she returned to the living room. She wrinkled her nose at the sight but said nothing. The production room had been neatly tidied and the lights switched off. Len was sitting on the floor with digital music notes (they consisted of lines of black squares in a plain scaled grid) spread out on his lap and his headphones and music player Master had given him, probably listening to a new track Master had told him to learn.

'Aren't you hungry?' she asked him, handing him his clothes. 'I can make something simple, if you like.' She found his hand had hardly warmed, when it came into contact with hers. She wouldn't have been surprised if his blood was half frozen.

Len blinked at her a little warily.

'Don't worry, I'm not going to poison you or something. I'm not like Master.' She emptied a can of leek potato soup into a saucepan and heated it before handing it to him in a large lemon-coloured mug.

He took it without objection. '…Thank you.'

The mug was almost as big as his face. He looked rather sweet holding it in his two hands, the rim of the mug hiding his face up to the bridge of his nose, sipping meekly. Miku watched him at it for a while before asking, 'Would you like anything else? I mean – that's hardly enough, is it?'

'Thank you. I'm alright.'

'…Are you sure? You haven't eaten since… this morning, have you?' Master had kept him busy the whole while she ate, before locking him in the production room.

'I'm alright, thank you.'

'Well I guess…' she winced extremely awkwardly, feeling as if she were standing on needles, 'I wouldn't want to eat anything if I had to stand that awful thing being put in my mouth…' She meant to sound sympathetic, but it resulted in something close to hurtful sarcasm. Len was being made to do this in her stead, after all.

Len ignored her.

'Um… How is it? Did I cook it too much?'

'Thank you. It's very nice.'

Miku wished that he would at least make her situation a little easier by saying something other than replying to her questions with one or two curt words – anything. However he seemed only interested in whatever new disgusting song he was listening to. He looked hardly enthusiastic, but just practically, mechanically focused, simply engaged in another task.

'Why don't you take a break for a change today? Miku asked, casting around for a subject. 'You should get some sleep – I know you usually can't sleep properly.'

'…'

'It's alright, Len!' she said a little forcefully. 'She won't be mad at you.'

'I don't require sleep; what Master says is true.'

She wanted to cry. 'Don't be ridiculous. You look as if you're about to collapse.'

'Do I ever look any different?'

'No… but that's because–'

'Thank you for your concern, but I think I'll be alright. I must finish Master's work before tomorrow morning.'

'You could thank me at least!' she burst out finally. 'If you think being rescued from that torture chamber was a nuisance then tell me so and I'll never do it again.'

Len looked up from his notes and peered at her. 'Thank you, Miku,' he said softly. 'Please go to sleep first; I'll take your advice and do that too once I finish this. I won't be long. Or – …Would you like me to accompany you?'

That was the very first time he had ever called her by her name.

His words sent an unanticipated jolt in the depths of her chest. "Accompany" her? Did he mean…?

'…Oh,' she realised then, out loud. 'You've got nowhere to sleep.'

He waited politely.

'Sorry… I didn't mean it that way! I just thought you might have wanted a break, that's all…' He had obviously misunderstood her concern in insisting he had to retire to bed. She realised he was probably used to being demanded his service.

Had he seen her blush before she had hidden it?

'Well why don't you use Master's bed? I doubt she'll be using it tonight,' she suggested guiltily.

Perhaps it was her imagination, but an almost imperceptible shudder passed through him at her suggestion. 'Master keeps the door locked,' he hissed faintly.

It was strange, that he had been here for almost two years and still didn't seem to have settled in properly, like a permanent visitor. He had no established routine due to Master's erraticism, no room for himself and no real possessions. He didn't even have a proper place to sleep – and was inevitably forced to sleep on either the couch or the floor, or not at all. Despite knowing that there might be just enough space left in her own small room to squeeze in a space for him, Miku did not have the courage to risk Master's ire by suggesting he sleep with anyone other than Master.

At least, not till now.

'I – well…' Had she unknowingly poked a sensitive subject? She would not have been surprised if Master's bed was a place he wanted to avoid unless forced into it. 'There is some space in my room – you can use some of it,' she suggested, choosing her words carefully. 'Don't worry; I won't disturb you in any way. Y… you can trust me. If you're not comfortable with it you can have my room tonight – I'll… um, try sleeping on the floor for a change, maybe…'

Len hardly smiled at her clumsy courtesy. 'No thank you – I'll be fine.'

'Are– are you sure?'

Miku almost expected him to retort, "In what way?" but he simply nodded.

'…If you say so. Goodnight, Len.' She trudged off to her own room, decidedly disappointed and at the same time worried for Len. She couldn't possibly imagine how he kept himself aware all the time on so little sleep. Regardless of whether his not needing to rest was true or not, she herself wasn't designed to be able to withstand wear, just like any human. She tentatively added, 'S… sleep early,' and then hurried up the stairs so he wouldn't see her blush.

'Goodnight Miku.'

However she did note that he'd finished the huge mugful of soup for two. He must have been hungry after all.

Yaaayy my very first mini-story! :D I know it's angsty and all and I initially planned this as a one-shot but it grew into chapters and all, but I hope you liked it. Interested in what's gonna happen to Miku's romance (nothing good, I assure you)? Please Fav + Review! ;3