A/N: I don't even know about this chapter. I started out liking it, but now I'm just super "meh" about it as a whole. Ah well. With 100 chapters, there's bound to be duds stuck within the mix.
Yohi is so difficult for me to write for. The thing I struggled with most for this one-shot was retaining his voice, but in the end I suppose I'm pleased with how it turned out. Also, we finally get a Miku chapter, so if you were waiting for her, here she is!
A heart-felt thank you to all these heart-filled individuals!: Mir, Juice, Ten-Ten, and Riv! You all already know how much I love you, but I'll let you know again, just so you don't forget.
Song: Gott ist ein Popstar (God is a Popstar) - Oomph! (...Did I really need to translate that? Also, I love this band to itty bitty bits)
Couple: YOHIOloidxMiku
Slowly but surely Miku counts out the pills; two red, one yellow, two blue, two pale pink, one small circular one, and one of the giant ones that you used to call "horse pills". It's a combination of sleeping pills, anti-depressants, and a cocktail of other things that are intended to keep her running well beyond human limits.
Miku's hands are shaking violently, her eyes are watery and bloodshot, and she sways uncertainly from side to side as if she's going to tip over at any moment. Slowly she picks up a pill at random – today it's the yellow one – and shoves it through her lips, choosing to swallow it dry. A moment later, the second pill is in her hand and she's swallowing that one as well. As the pills slip down her gullet one at a time, I mouth along.
You're. Such. A. Good. Sweet. Little. Girl. Miku. Hatsune.
Nine words, nine pills.
Miku probably doesn't notice that there's one more word and one more pill than usual. To her, it's all the same; she's still clinging to those words I told you all those years ago: just stick with me and do what you're told and you'll become a star.
"Great work today Miku. Now it's time for bed."
The smile that she gives me is one that both she and you have rehearsed time and time again. Unlike you, it never reaches her eyes – eyes that were once yours now belong to a semi-coherent pop-idol, constantly glazed by the pills we keep feeding her. But everything else about the smile is perfect. Sublimely perfect. She's like a tiny poodle being paraded proudly around a dog show.
God does it make me want to punch something. It probably would be her face if I wouldn't feel guilty about punching you afterwards.
"Thanks Yohioloid," Miku says in a voice just as trained as her smile, "I was just starting to get sleepy. You'll stay with me tonight, won't you?"
"Yeah, of course."
We've both gone through this ritual enough times to know exactly where this is going and just how blatantly the two of us are lying. I scoop her up into my arms and she buries her face into my chest, mumbling sleepily. When I try to lay her into bed, she drags me down with her, messily kissing whatever exposed skin she can find. I return the favor even though we're both aware that it won't lead to sex. That stopped when you started calling me 'Yohioloid' again.
Oh I'm sure that most people would love to say that they've had the opportunity to fuck a pop-idol, but I can't bring myself to do it. I've had ample opportunities, trust me, but every time I look at her perfectly primped face, all I can see is you and then any sex drive I had just grinds to a halt.
Because she's not you.
Miku Hatsune will never be you.
Like always, she pulls away a few minutes later, that perfectly practiced smile staining your face.
"I love you Yohi. I truly, truly do."
No, it's not you. Stop pretending that it's you.
She passes out in my arms. Half coherent words escape her lips as her breathing instantly slows and her eyelids flutter shut. Her teal hair forms a halo around her figure and her pale skin seems to glow in the filtered moonlight from the window. People would probably refer to her as an angel – maybe even a goddess if they were feeling particularly poetic.
You want to know what I see?
A monster.
Every time I watch her knock back all those sterile, brightly colored pills, I want to smack them out of her hands; I want to scream at you. I want you to realize that you're no longer Saki Fujita and this little charade has got to stop.
Sure, stick with me and you'll go far. I made good on my promise alright. You're a fucking pop-idol alright.
A symbol; an icon.
A hollow shell.
For years now, I've played my part is this little tragi-comedy, but at this point I just don't give two shits anymore. I've had enough of dealing with Miku Hatsune; I want Saki Fujita back goddammit and I want her now. Yeah I'm being a selfish prick, but like I said, I just don't care.
When I look down at Miku now, face ethereally calm and body warm in my embrace, memories of you force their way to the surface. When she's asleep, her face is nearly identical to yours. I think seeing her sleeping face over and over again was what finally forced me to act on these impulses that have been brewing within me for god knows how long.
Hey Saki, do you remember when we first met? I seriously doubt it. These pills we're feeding you have been killing off any form of identity you had. Nothing illegal of course – Crypton's not stupid enough to risk the scandal – but the doses and combinations should have killed your body long ago. Maybe you would be better off if they had killed you rather than just leaving an empty shell for a pop-idol to fill.
But then again, maybe this is exactly what you've always wanted. Perhaps your goal all along was to kill off Saki Fujita. Well if that's the case, you're the selfish prick here, not me. You're just running away from your problems. No matter how hard I search to make you man up and face your problems head on, the Saki Fujita that I knew for only a short time is nowhere to be found.
And yet it's Saki Fujita that I'm in love with, not Miku Hatsune.
When you walked into the audition room, I wonder what your thoughts were. I know that if I had walked into a room with a has-been pop-star turned manager (yours truly), a stuffy giant of a man (Big Al, my once manager now reluctant associate), and a skinny blonde girl (Rin, a once starlet that I kept around because she's a pretty good lay) I would have laughed hysterically before walking out.
Apparently though, you had more optimism (or stupidity, I always get those two confused) and you walked forward, gave an overly formal bow, introduced yourself, and began to sing.
Being completely honest here, you were nothing special. Sure your voice was cute and that braid that reached to your knees just screamed "cutesy pop-idol", but you were at about the same potential level as the two dozen girls that had gone before you. I let you get about halfway through your song before I shot Big Al a look that roughly translates to 'shut this girl up. Now'.
With that, he clapped his hands, thanked you for your time, and asked if we had any questions before turning pointedly to me. Somehow it had ended up being my job to ask the 'meaningful' questions that would help to determine if someone was star material or not. At this point I was sick as hell of it, so I just asked the first thing that came to mind.
"Give me the name of some of my songs."
It was a dick move. Sure, I had minor fame for a time, but that was in the hinter years. There was no way anyone showing up to these auditions had any idea who I was, let alone what any of my songs were. I was about to change my question after another one of Big Al's killer glares, but suddenly you began to speak.
It took me several seconds to realize that you were rattling off my entire discography, from beginning to end.
We all sat there stunned, staring at you as you stared at the ceiling. You were listing song after song (and album names; you gotta admit, that was a little bit of a kiss-up move) as if you had all the CDs right in front of you. By the time we realized that we should probably shut you up, you had reached the end of narrating my illustrious career and you once more entered into one of your overly formal bows. I'm sure you don't remember what you said then, so I'll just remind you.
"Thank you very much for giving me the opportunity to sing for you Yohioloid. It's truly been an honor."
That's what you said, word for word. After you left that room and Rin ushered in the next girl, I just kept repeating it to myself over and over again. You know what the really damn weird thing about it was? You sounded sincere. It sounded like you simply wanted to come and sing for me and that was enough for you.
I can't remember any of the other girls who came to see us that day. All I remember clearly is your audition and that one little sentence. Before I realized it, the painful audition process was over and it was well nearing midnight. I bid Big Al and Rin both hasty goodbyes before shuffling to my car as quickly as humanly possible.
Why I decided to call you, I can't really say.
I can say this; that night I made both the stupidest move of my life and the most intelligent move of my career.
When you picked up the phone, your voice was thick with sleep and I could hear your barely suppressed yawn. I allowed myself to indulge in your sleepy voice for a few moments before I revealed who I was. That sure as hell woke you up fast. It also led to a string of obnoxious apologies, so I'm pretty sure that counts as your revenge. You're not allowed to collect on it now, got that?
Guess it wouldn't matter since the revenge belongs to you, Saki, not Miku.
We met up that night on a park bench. You had a bulging duffle bag slung over your shoulder and a nervous smile painting your face. Honestly, I don't remember much of the conversation as the two of us sat there – I do remember asking how the hell you knew all those songs and you revealing that you had an older sister who listened to my music. As a result, you just kind of latched onto it as well.
The rest of the night was spent on that bench, the two of us just shooting the breeze about anything that came to mind. I never once asked why you had that bag (although it would take a moron not to realize that you wanted me to whisk you away to the land of pop-idols) and you never once asked why I had called you to this park bench (although I do wonder if you were aware that it was ninety-eight percent libido and two percent plain curiosity). Funny how that night didn't really pan out like either of us expected.
Instead of getting my quick fix and letting you stay as long as you satisfied my needs, I found myself rejecting the idea. It wasn't because you were barely legal (let's be honest here, I haven't exactly been a saint) but rather it was something nagging at the back of my throat. It was something I hadn't felt in a long time. Then I didn't have a name for it. Now I know all too well.
I was in love with you.
So let's see, after that I kissed you. I won't take the time to describe it to you, just let me tell you that it was obvious to me that you were inexperienced. But hey, it was pretty nice. It was sweet and warm, just like every girl's first kiss should be. Don't really know if it was your first, but I like to pretend that it was. It's also kind of nice to pretend that I was your first love.
I'm pretty sure it's just my way of clinging to the memory of Saki rather than the reality of Miku.
When we broke from the kiss, your cheeks were bright red and you quickly averted your gaze. You mumbled cutely and let your duffle bag drop from your shoulder. For a moment, I thought you were going to simply slink off home and pretend it never happened but instead you turned and met my eyes. This is another sentence that I remember perfectly. You want to know why?
Because it was the last thing you said before you began the transformation into Miku Hatsune.
"I'm going with you. If it's as a mistress, that's fine; if it's as a pop-idol, that's even better. Either way you're not going to be able to get rid of me."
I'm not sure if it was me who damned you to death or yourself, but a moment later I was smiling as I leaned in to give you another peck on the lips. When I pulled back and our eyes met, I said the sentence; the one sentence that would change things forever.
"Stick with me, do what you're told, and you'll become the biggest pop-idol this world has ever seen."
The way your eyes lit up at those words made that itching at the back of my throat start up again. God did I love you in that moment. When I took your hand and led you back to my apartment, we both knew where we were going to end up for the night. It was only after you fell asleep in my arms that I started calling you by your stage name.
Miku Hatsune.
There's no special meaning behind the name; you know that right? It didn't matter to us which girl we got to play the part – whoever it was, she was going to be Miku Hatsune, the next pop-idol that everyone knew. But as I held you in my arms that night and looked at your serene little face, I found myself unable to think of you as anyone but Saki.
The next day, we began grooming you. Voice lessons, etiquette lessons, dance lessons, fashion consulting – you went through it all and not once did you let that smile of yours waver. It was only when you came home with me at the end of the day that anyone called you by your real name. Those were the rare times when you would complain and allow your smile to falter; it was the only time that you allowed yourself to be vulnerable. Call me overprotective or whatever, but it's what made me love you.
It was only when the two of us were alone together that I ever got to see Saki.
In exchange for your identity, you got that fame that you were seeking. It took a few months, but pretty soon the world was bubbling with news about the new pop-idol Miku; people began to recognize you when you went out in public; the paparazzi began hanging around your usual haunts. At first, you were simply ecstatic; every night you would recount to me the number of people who had recognized you as if I wasn't with you when it happened. Looking back, I guess that could be described as the 'happy' time of our relationship.
But then things started to change.
The differences were subtle at first – a laugh where there wasn't one before; a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. For a time, I didn't catch onto the changes and I believed that things were going just as planned. There were simply two faces to you; one was Saki, the other was Miku. Simple enough, right?
Apparently it wasn't simple for you.
That night when you started calling me by my stage name again rather than 'Yohi' and insisted that I call you Miku was the first time I realized just how far the transformation had gone.
At that point, you were dying your hair teal rather than wearing a wig; you constantly wore your blue contacts; your smiles were perfect and you never had a negative word to say about anyone. It made me fucking sick to look at your face.
It wasn't yours any longer.
It now belonged to a girl name Miku Hatsune.
I am sorry that I threw you off the bed that night. I wasn't really thinking rationally at the time. What I'm not sorry about was sleeping on the couch that night and buying you your own apartment the next day. The girl currently living in my apartment wasn't Saki. She wasn't the girl I had fallen in love with.
As the two of us silently packed your bags together, I remember hearing the sound of you crying, but when I turned around to look at you, one of your perfectly plastic smiles adorned your face.
Goddammit, if only you had been frowning, I could have taken you back. However, you didn't, so a few hours later, I watched as a limo drove you away. Through the whole process, you had that fucking smile plastered on your face. Sometimes I wonder if you cried after I couldn't see you anymore. It doesn't matter though, because in my mind, Saki Fujita was no more.
That was the day that the girl I'm currently holding in my arms stopped being you.
That was the day I began hating her.
That was the day she started taking the pills.
At first it was just one pill – she was having trouble sleeping and just needed a little bit of help. Within two months, the number of pills she was taking every night had grown to five. At that point, it became my job to ensure that she took all her pills every night and I was to add a pill every time I saw the cracks of reality breaking through her façade. My job shifted from manager to doll wrangler.
So I can't help but wonder; whose fault was it that you died: mine or yours?
Logically it was yours since you wanted to get into the business in the first place; you knew the risk coming in. But you know it's equally as logical to blame me for it. After all, haven't I been spouting off that I love you and all that crap? If I loved you, I sure as hell had an awful way of showing it; I simply sat by and watched you destroy yourself. Hell, I helped you destroy yourself.
Maybe it's what you wished for, but it's not what I wished for.
Hell yes I'm a selfish prick, but so are you.
Heh, maybe that's why the two of us made such a lovely couple.
Well you may be content to run away from any responsibility for your actions, but I'm made of sterner stuff than you. I'll stick it out and go through whatever punishment the world's got lined up for me. I may be selfish, but I'm not a coward.
That's why I'm cleaning up my mess – a little mess known as Miku Hatsune.
The extra pill I gave her tonight wasn't just another anti-depressant.
It's been about forty-five minutes since her chest stopped rising and falling. Her body has begun to go stiff and cold. Gently I extract my arms from behind her, lower my ear to her lips, and prod at her neck, searching for a pulse.
I find nothing.
I leave her bedroom and listen to the click of the door behind me. A few seconds later I'm walking to my car, as if I were just another random person and not someone who had just committed murder. Kinda funny how I can be so level headed about this but so bent out of shape every time I looked at Miku's smiling face.
I wonder why I did it.
Because I love you and hate her for stealing you away forever?
That would be the fucking noble reason, but we both know that I'm no knight in shining armor. No, the reason that I did it was because I wanted to – it's because I'm a selfish prick. I know for a fact that killing Miku won't bring you back; I stopped believing in stupid things like that years ago.
But you know what I get in exchange?
Closure.
I managed to kill the girl that stole you away from me.
It's a shame that you're going to heaven and I'm going to hell, because it would have been nice to be able to see you just one more time.
As I turn the keys in the ignition and hear the motor roar to life, I seriously contemplate going back up stairs and starting to perform CPR. Maybe it's pointless; maybe it's not. Suddenly, a loud, bright song begins to play over the speakers and I instantly recognize Miku's voice. It's the last spark I need. A moment later I'm pushing the accelerator to the floor and my car is speeding down the highway. Tomorrow, the police will come to lock me away, but tonight belongs to me.
I hear there's a nice park bench in a nearby city where a girl known as Saki Fujita spent her last evening. I think I would like to spend my last evening there as well.
