I don't own Vocaloid. I think this chapter will make some people happy. I loved writing it.
At dinner there was spaghetti with tomato sauce and bread and salad. The food was better than I would've expected. We talked a bit, but we were pretty hungry and were mostly busy eating. After making the decision to eat like humans, we had gotten kind of...stuck like that, and ever since we get hungry. It's an annoying feeling but food can, in extreme cases, replace being plugged in for a short time. This meant now we were starving and tired even with the nap we'd had, and needed to...charge, for lack of a better word.
We managed to find eight cords and various plugs to put on them that fit, and although they were rather short we all found ways to sleep. Well, sort of. The cord wasnt the problem, for me. I heard Gumi snore after less than a minute, but I lay staring at the wall. The white paint wasn't very interesting, and soon enough I was completely enveloped in my thoughts. I might as well have been asleep, except, of course, for all the things I couldn't stop thinking about.
I was glad we had agreed to become part of this music project. I didn't want anyone I cared about to become a war machine, for either side. I didn't want to be owned by a country. Kylie and many of the others also treated us as people rather than celebrities or robots. Even the obnoxious ones hadn't freaked out or idolized us or anything. On the other hand, however, we were still learning how to fight and work, even if this was just in case of emergency and for self-defense. I wanted to be home, before the war, where it was safe. Maybe I was being selfish. Maybe I was made for the life of a celebrity and nothing else. Then again, was it myself who I wanted to be safe at home, or was it the others? Rin and Len and Yuki shouldn't have to ever learn how to fight. It was just unfair, that our own country was part of why we had to resort to this.
I rolled over. It was what was best, and that was that.
There were other things, too. Problems buzzing in my head that couldn't be fixed just by knowing what was best. Who had captured us back then? I hoped we'd be able to figure that out. Maybe Kylie or one of the others already knew. It could have been a government organization or an unofficial group of people who wanted us to help them. Criminals. Terrorists. Spies. Anything. Did they know where we were? Would they come back for us? Who would be hurt this time? The twins, maybe? Anybody. Anyone could be electrocuted or tortured or experimented on or killed or forced to watch the torture of someone who they-
I realized my nails were digging into my palms, and I was bleeding a bit. I sighed. Yeah, there was that little issue too. Luka.
What the hell was wrong with me?
She was right. I was terrified of something. Something in my own mind. Sure, I was scared of the war and of death. These were both why I had been so cold and a bit mean lately. I hadn't been completely happy in a long time. I suppose after a couple hundred years you lose that. You've seen too much, after a while, to be or even act innocent and carefree. But she knew it wasn't just the war. She knew so much, and I'd needed her to tell it to my face before I saw it. I knew now that I was scared, but not the kind of heart racing scared you get from running or being interrogated. It was a cold, painful dread and fear that was always there. That difference was probably why I hadn't seen it at first. But what was it? Why was I scared? I didn't care if Luka liked me. Like liked me, as ten year old-ish as that sounded. It wasn't hard to see that she might. The green haired lump snoring on the bed next to mine obviously thought she did, and Gumi had a habit of being obnoxiously right. And the time when Luka passed out after being tortured...well, it didn't take a genius to know she was going to say she loved me. Why did that put butterflies in my stomach? Besides, all eight of us had said we loved each other countless times. It could mean anything. I knew if she did...love me...it wouldn't be an issue for me. I knew her very well, perhaps better than I knew anyone, and although she acted cold and sometimes flirty on the outside, if she actually loved someone she cared for them with all her heart, and wanted them to be happy more than anything. I loved her for that, even if it wasn't in the way she wanted.
What if it was in the way that she wanted, though? What if I did love her...like, romantically? I took a breath. The fear in the back of my heart that was always there seemed to increase, turning from dread into an urge to run from something I knew couldn't run from. That was it, then. I was scared of being in love with Luka. But why? Perhaps I was just afraid of love. All the things that I was currently terrified of-the war, death-were things I could physically run from, hide from, avoid. Was I that much of a coward? So much that the very thought of something in my head terrified me to death because there was no way of escaping it? I always had been scared of insanity and losing people, anything that affected my mind. I was scared of emotions. I was scared of myself.
I turned again, restless, burying my face in the pillow.
What was it about love that scared me? I'd dated Kaito, of course. Was that love? Maybe not. Or maybe I was scared that I didn't know if I loved her. I was afraid of not knowing. Not knowing if I loved her. Not knowing why I was scared. All those things freaked me out, but they left me more disturbed than afraid. Was it maybe because she was a girl? I didn't think so. In our couple hundred years alive homophobia had become nearly nonexistent in many countries including our own, and the eight of us in particular couldn't care less who liked who. It was certainly different than when I was with Kaito, but still...I imagined it probably played in somewhere, though. I sighed, rolling around again.
Did I really like her? She was nice and amazing and drop dead gorgeous, but I wasn't sure if that mattered. I asked myself a few basic questions that a ten year old would ask at a sleepover.
What happens when you think about her?
Luka. I thought her name and felt butterflies in my stomach.
What if she died?
The very thought scared me. It was almost like what you'd expect a little kid to feel when she thinks about her mom or friends being dead for too long-the knowing that it will eventually happen, and the instinct to stop thinking about it. It felt a bit different, somehow, than the feeling I got when I imagined any of the others dying. Strange.
The number one little kid slumber party question: would you kiss her, if you could?
Yes.
I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them slowly. I supposed I loved her. I really did. Well then. A bit of the fear was replaced with nervousness. What would I do? Did she like me? Maybe. I hoped so.
I sighed again and closed my eyes. Now I knew why it felt different picturing her dying than anyone else. They all knew everything I had to tell them. If she were gone, I had far too many things left unsaid.
"I love you" was among them.
And there we have it. Finally, although I guess since I had all these chapters pre-written it's been a very short time for all of you. This chapter lacked in dialogue, but I think sometimes I just need to get inside a character's head as an author to explain things I left a bit unexplained. Thanks for reading!
