Disclaimer: I don't own Vocaloid or the song Gallows Bells in any way, shape of form.

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"…please don't have any regret…"

Surrounded by these iron bars, it's as if I'm already dying. Maybe death won't have to wait long after all…

It's lonely in here. But I've always been lonely until Miku came along.

Before Miku, everything was really…boring. During the day, everyone was always really nice and it was fun to hang out with everyone but…it was still so lonely.

...I never liked living on this island. Surrounded by the blue sky and the endless ocean, it was always if I was caged in by the island's tears.

I didn't want to live on the island. I wanted to leave. I wanted to be…to be…free.

But no one saw the world like I did.

They said it was a stupid idea.

A dream to big to be real.

An unnecessary thought.

A ridiculous thought.

No – it's a lie. It's not that they couldn't see, it's that they refused to see it.

The peace that shatters behind closed doors, the birth of demons during nightfall and the cries that remain hidden under the cover of the night. The bruises are the only proof that it all even happens but everyone pretends not to notice those.

I didn't want to pretend anymore. But no one wanted to not pretend with me. So I ended up pretending anyways. How pathetic. I was no better than the rest of the islanders.

But Miku was.

Miku was brave and fearless with a mouth to match. It was a mouth that constantly got her in trouble because it was a mouth that let loose truths that the others didn't want to hear. But that never stopped her and she never went down without a fight. I loved her for it.

...Once, I told her that her eyes were the color of tears. And oddly enough, she smiled and gently shook her head. "No." she said "My eyes are the color of everlasting hope."

And as she stood there, with the wind blowing through her long hair, I realized that she was truly beautiful. I realized that I was no longer lonely. So when she held out her hand, I took it without a second thought. Together, we faced the world as it was.

But I can't hold her with these hands anymore. These hands of mine were soaked with blood – her blood – so things can never be to how they were. How lonely.

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