Author's Note: Hello! This is another story I had floating in my head so I thought "Hey, why not?" In case some of you have questions about the title:
First, yes there is going to be a part two (sequel). The reason I divided the story is because the second half is so different from the first that it almost felt like a different story (even though it's an obvious continuation).
Second, yes this is based off of Wide Knowledge of the Late, Madness. Saying that, some of you probably now know what part two is going to be based off of. Actually, this more based off a video I saw rather than the actual song. I saw said video and - boom! - I thought up a story even without knowing what Miku was singing the whole time.
Third, some of you just can't wait for this author's note to be finished so you can read the story. Okay, I'll shut up now.
-Ray
Disclaimer: I don't own Vocaloid. There! They can't sue me now!
(Miku's P.O.V.)
My name is Miku Hatsune.
I was born August 31, 2536.
I was raised by a loving family.
I had both of my parents in my life.
I had an older brother.
I had many friends.
I had . . . so much.
Then everything changed that night.
Long story short: it was a massive, a horrid, and a bloody massacre that happened in my neighborhood.
I had witnessed the death of my family and my friends. Needless to say, I was traumatized.
I was thirteen then.
Now . . . I'm not sure if I'm still thirteen, or if my birthday had passed by now. I don't know what today is. Not the day, the month, or even the year. After I was found hiding under the debris, I was sent to a mental assulym. They put me in this white room with nothing but a bed, a small bathtoom area, and the only window being on my door that only showed me the hallway. The only time I was disturbed from my isolation was when the masked doctors were bringing me food or giving me shots. That was it. At first I counted how many times I slept to help keep track of the days, but I stopped counting after a while. I could have been here for days or years and I wouldn't know the difference.
Finally, a doctor came to me and asked if I was interested in meeting the others. I felt nervous at first but happily agreed. The doctor told me that after you're here for a while they let you meet the other patients. How often you were allowed to socialize was based on your behavior. She didn't say what behavior resulted what, but you either socialized everyday, three times a week, or only once a week. Since I was new, I would start out with once a week, AKA, group day. Group day - not a very creative name, if you ask me - was the day that everyone in the assulym could interact in a large and also white room that had windows which actually showed the outside. I was nervous, but I later learned that feeling was pointless.
Everyone here was out of their minds. One red haired boy only looked out the window and never anywhere else. A green haired girl constantly talked to imaginary people. I tried to talk to a girl with red-orange hair, but she only kept repeating the same things over and over. "Insanity, it's like floating on the air. Phsycopathy, living a carefree life. Insanity, an illusion that cannot end. Captivity, unable to run away." It was the same thing over and over, but sometimes she would say "The corruption is continuing." I was giving up. These were only a few of the many people here!
I sat in the corner and noticed two blonde figures I had missed. Both of them looked exactly alike; the only way to tell the difference was by the fact one of them wore a ponytail. The other was chewing her hand so much that it was bleeding, but she just sucked the blood up and continued chewing. I looked at the other. I stared for a good few minutes before I concluded that he was a boy (it was hard to tell because he looked exactly like the girl). He seemed . . . surprisingly normal. He watched his clone chew her hands but did little to stop her. Eventually he gave up and looked my way and we made eye contact. We continued this staring contest for a long time. Neither of us looked away, neither of us blinked. After a while I lost interest so I got up and tried to talk to the white haired girl.
"What's your name?" I asked her.
She gave me a terrified look. It was obvious that she was scared. Very, very scared. She slowly backed away from me and scurried off. I sat down, defeated. This "socializing" thing isn't really working out.
I suddenly felt a presence behind me so I turned to see the blond boy staring at me, drilling holes into the back of my head.
I got up and walked to the wall so that I could sit against it. To my surprise, my new "shadow" followed. He sat next to me. And I mean RIGHT next to me. I stared at him and he stared at me. This time I kept it up until we were interrupted.
His clone began patting his shoulder, demanding for his attention, and getting her blood all over his pure white shirt in the process. He broke our gaze so that he could look at her. She must've used her eyes to ask him something because he gave an approving nod. She then curled up next to him, head on his shoulder, and closed her eyes.
We sat like this for a few more minutes. Then I lost it.
"Can I help you?!" I demanded the boy. He just looked at me and smiled. Getting angrier, I yell again, "What's with you?! What do you want from me?!" I never would of guessed his response.
"What's your name?" he asks. I was frozen for a solid minute before he asked again. "Your name, do you know it?"
My name? What's my name?
"M-M-M," I try. "Miku," I answer quietly. "Miku . . . Hatsune."
"I'm Len Kagamine," the boy says, surprising me. He points to the girl. "This is my twin sister, Rin. She doesn't talk."
The girl, Rin, snuggled her head on his shoulder. A sharp jealousy stabbed at me. I couldn't snuggle with my brother anymore because those monsters killed him.
"When were you born?" the boy, Len, asks me.
Trying to remember the numbers was harder than trying to remember my name, but I got it sorted out. "August 31, 2536."
Len chuckled. "We're the same age then."
"Cool," I nod. Then I remember I don't know my age. "How old are we?"
"Fourteen," he answers.
"Are you sure?" I ask with disbelief.
"Positive," he said. "I count the winters and summers. I can't tell you the date, but I can tell how old someone is if they just tell me the year they were born."
I nod my head. "What are you here for?" I ask him. "You don't seem crazy."
"Neither do you," he said. We sat in silence for a moment before he said, "Whatever you do, don't forget who you are."
"What?" I say.
"Don't forget who you are," he repeats. "Think often of your name and your birthday, and some of your memories of the past while you're at it."
"Why?"
He leans towards me but still manages to not disturb Rin. "That's what they want, they want you to forget. Do you know what's in the shots? It's supposed to make you forget who you are. Never forget, or you just might go insane."
I stared at him. "You know what?" I say to him. "YOU are the craziest one here! That has to be the most rediculous thing I've ever heard!" With that I got up and decided to try talking to the man with the purple hair. Just my luck, he doesn't speak English.
Every now and then I felt the boy's eyes on me, but whenever I turned to look at him he was staring away from me.
Group day finally ended and I got to be in my room again. I thought about the boy. At first, I was hopeful because he seemed normal. I was wrong.
Think often of my name and my birthday. Think often of my past or else I'll forget. Ha! What a looney head!
But then again . . .
Why am I doing what he said?
