Sugar-Coated Accident
Chapter Seven
"Kokoro/Kiseki"
Robots were not like humans.
It was a simple sentence, easy enough to understand, and one that had been hammered through Len's head like a rusty nail ever since his abrupt awakening (he could still remember white coats, electric currents and the strange, discombobulating feeling of being nothing one minute, existing so suddenly in a bizarre, unfamiliar body the next).
Humans were allowed to have flaws because it was impossible to create a perfect human. They were born of nature, which oftentimes had one or two minor design flaws; and that was without factoring in personality, upbringing, friends, education, etc.
In short, so many different factors and components went into building a human it was impossible to finely tune every one. Besides, they were a species that grew and matured using trial and error. Minor mistakes had to be made for the sake of progress.
Robots, on the other hand, were not granted the same privileges as humans. Nobody wanted a flawed robot – not when perfection could be achieved; should've been achieved, had been promised on the packaging, and the consumers were expecting nothing less.
The Vocaloid series may have looked human, acted human, felt and thought exactly like humans, but factories had birthed them, every aspect of them finely crafted and put through rigorous tests.
They were still robots.
Robots created to make music for the public, either to calm, or amuse, or inspire - it didn't really matter, as long as they could do their jobs.
As long as they were perfect.
A flawed human could still be salvaged.
A flawed robot was worthless, broken, junk – and, eventually, scrap metal. Spare parts.
Uninstalled and never heard of again.
Dead.
Kagamine Len's whole life was ruled by the above logic, so much so that it was part of who he was and how he worked (anything less than perfection was unacceptable).
But, like breathing, the thought had been installed in his subconscious; always there, but never making itself present. As if on autopilot, his body responded to the instructions and he worked as hard as he could, knowing he had to remain at the top of his game, knowing he had to be the best. He didn't even need to think about it.
Didn't really want to think about it.
However, standing in the building where he had been conceived before the one he called 'Master' (the one who had given the whole Vocaloid family life), that unnerving rule was beginning to take precedence at the foreground of his thoughts.
Protectively, Len held Kaito close to his chest, though the blue-haired Vocaloid did not reply. The taxi ride to the grand, over-glorified laboratory – the one where each member of the Vocaloid family had been created - had sapped all of Kaito's remaining strength, leaving him lifeless.
Just like a doll.
It was disconcerting, and worryingly prophetic.
"So," frowned Master, elbows resting against his desk and a look of contempt on his face, "you say that the Kaito unit has become badly damaged?"
"Yes," Len affirmed, holding Kaito a little closer, if such a thing were possible. The younger Vocaloid felt as though he had to protect him, hide his bedraggled appearance from Master's prying gaze.
Len was so afraid he felt sick, an emotion that had been plaguing him relentlessly ever since Kaito first crashed. However, in Master's presence it was beginning to heighten dramatically, almost uncontrollably – and he gulped, casting his gaze downwards to poor Kaito-nii's almost comatose body and the ugly, patterned carpet.
"Well, that is quite a pity. He was designed to be more durable; but as he was a very early model, it's hardly surprising there were a few flaws. Chiefly, his questionable intelligence."
"Kaito-nii's not stupid," Len murmured, a contradiction to what he had said himself only a little while ago on the park bench. "He just lacks common sense, I guess."
"Indeed. Fortunately, the damage he has sustained does not seem too bad – some modifications will need to be made, getting rid of the problematic tooth and making a replacement. Other vital components may also have been damaged when he went into temporary shut down, like his memory… But I can't imagine the repairs would take too long. A few hours, I assume."
"I… I mean…" Len sighed heavily, face betraying his obvious relief, "t-thank you. Thank you so much-"
"But," Master continued, effectively silencing the young Vocaloid, "it seems like a waste of time. The Kaito model is old, almost defunct. Why bother repairing him when progress is being made in different areas, using different materials. The Hatsune Miku model, for instance, and our newest deisgn – Megurine Luka. These modern Vocaloids should be the ones the company concentrates on, not old technology. If it's broken, it must not have been up to scratch to begin with."
"B-but," stuttered Len, the queasy feeling, which had begun to subside somewhat with his Master's previous words, suddenly manifesting itself at the back of his throat tenfold, "you c-can't!"
"I believe I can," answered Master. "I own this company. And I firmly believe broken technology should be left to gather dust. Being so fragile points only to faults, flaws and imperfections – and a robot can not afford to be imperfect. Especially not Vocaloids, which are so highly thought of."
"But Kaito-nii isn't badly damaged, it wouldn't take too long, and I'll make sure he'll never do anything like this ever again, I swear! Besides," Len swallowed, feeling nauseous, yet not faltering for a moment. If he did, it could be the end of Kaito-nii – and he would never forgive himself if such a thing was to happen. Not over something as trivial as toothache. "Besides, Kaito-nii has a fan base too, doesn't he? Like the Hatsune Miku fans, a-and the Luka fans, and Meiko… Everyone has their favourite Vocaloid, right? The one they'll listen to over and over again? Think of all the fans you would disappoint by unin…" Gulp. "Unis-" It hurt to say it. "Replacing their favourite. You can't..."
"Sadly, the Kaito model has a relatively small fan base in comparison to the newer models. In most cases, he seems to be the least popular among your 'family' – but then again, it's only to be expected."
"B-But…"
"His record sales are poor, too. It is something Kaito and I have discussed at length on several other occasions – although his shoddy performances may have been down to that tooth. Hmn."
No, that's impossible. Kaito-nii never told me about this… But it's true, he's in trouble? Why didn't he say? I could've helped him, I know I could… Why does he try to do everything alone? Why does he have to try and act so damn brave all the time, it's just… He's just-
-he's just being Kaito-nii.
And that's why I care about him so much.
Len's thoughts churned unpleasantly in his head, a tragic maelstrom of feelings, thoughts, memories, mixed with nightmare visions – Kaito being uninstalled, Kaito sat limp and lifeless with empty eyes, left in a warehouse to gather dust, or being recycled and used again like he didn't mean anything, which was such an oxymoron because the clueless dolt meant everything to Len.
Len cared about Kaito so much it hurt, he felt so, so sick and so very scared, shaking all over as if he were the one about to die – and really, he might as well. Without Kaito, there would be no big brother (although, and Len was a tad reluctant to admit this, Kaito meant more to him than that), a missing thread in their family, and everything would unravel and fall apart.
It would destroy everyone; Miku, Rin, even Meiko, and suddenly – unwittingly – Len felt responsible for them, too. His clumsy actions now would determine their fate, and if anyone got hurt it would be all his fault. Like a set dominoes, there would be consequences if one toppled.
It would affect Haku, Neru and Teto, too, because misery was contagious, and maybe even Gackupo and Luka.
Every word Len said now counted, at a time when he just wanted to curl up with a plushie and go to sleep.
But that would be running away.
Running away wasn't an option.
"L-look, Kaito-nii's just going through a bad time," said Len desperately, grasping at straws now – anything, absolutely anything that could save Kaito, and with it remove this God-awful feeling of being ill and scared, absolutely terrified. It felt like his whole world was about to implode, as if it revolved around primarily round the blue-haired Vocaloid lying pitifully on his lap. "I'm sure it'll clear up, you've just… You have to repair him, you have to. You can't hurt him, you can't. Please tell me you won't. Please?"
There was a long pause, broken by the intrusive ticking of a clock and the gentle pitter-patter of water being fed into a large fish tank.
"…I suppose," said Master finally, sounding vaguely amused by the situation – not that he was particularly sadistic. It was merely interesting to see a robot act in such complex ways, to care so deeply; a true 'miracle' of science, just like the Kagamine twins' popular duet, "I have no choice. I'll call someone to take him to the lab and get him fixed up. But be warned – this will be Kaito's last chance. The very last."
And Len, fraught with suppressed emotion and quivering in anticipation/hope/fear, had to get up and run to the nearest restroom before he was sick on the ugly carpet.
a.n: drama O: things pick up & get distinctly more cheery in the next few chapters. but this story is actually nearly over. well… more like halfway through, methinks xD
i've been writing it rather quickly Oo
as always, thank you for the reviews ^^
i appreciate them very much~