Chapter 15, not beta-read.

Enjoy!

After lunch —which had been an entirely new learning experience— Miku spent the afternoon settling in. First of all, she asked Lily for some pajamas for the night. Once that question was asked, the entire issue of a wardrobe for the tealette was raised, but Miku revealed that she didn't always need new clothes, really. Granted, she had the habit of wearing a new outfit every day, but there was no necessity to change, except maybe fabric wear and cumulation of dust, dirt, and stains.

This surprised the humans, which in turn surprised the Vocaloid. Did people change clothes often for other purposes than aesthetic ones?

This lead to the discovery of the 'bathroom', that small room with a sink. Miku knew about the sink, at least: washing hands was essential to get foodstuffs off the skin. But it would appear that humans needed to wash their hands far more often: their skin got oily, they needed to sweat, and the environment in general wasn't as sterile as in the Vocaloid mansion. People sneezed, coughed, yawned. Then, there was the whole affair of everything else they did in the bathroom! Miku could understand that they couldn't burn all of the nutrients food supplied to them; they physically couldn't do it. But knowing that the unused material still had to go somewhere left the tealette both incredibly curious, confused, and somewhat revolted. The toilet served for that, a device she didn't particularly want to get close to.

The shower and the bathtub were another story. Humans not only needed to clean their entire bodies for similar reasons as washing their hands, but it was also relaxing, apparently. Warm water was calming, and some even preferred ice cold water to start the day. Miku expressed curiosity towards trying it, but ultimately decided not to, at least not right away. Ever since that arm had found that opening at her side, she wasn't sure her skin was even made of a single piece, or if she was waterproof. Sure, she could remember Rin and Len playing in the ocean, but she couldn't remember if extra precaution had been taken for that day, and couldn't be sure that nothing else had been changed the day the routine was imposed on them. Still, she liked the idea that humans found such joy in such a simple concept. Also, fresh out of the shower, they smelled nice, like soap and shampoo, which was wonderful.

Even though the differences between man and machine had been made more clear, it was decided that Lily would nonetheless give her some clothes for the moment, and when the human idols would return to work the next day, they'd go pick up some extra shirts, pants, socks and the like. Then, the Vocaloid helped Lily move some of her things to Gumi's room, which was a bit less of a bedroom and more of a garage: opposite the bed there was a veritable collection of parts, tools, and a mixture of sheet music and blueprints. With Lily's things gone, the room was entirely the tealette's, for the time being, at least. The blonde assured her that she didn't mind the move, and Gumi apparently shared that opinion, but the hassle made the tealette feel bad regardless.

She didn't have time to ponder it, though: Cul immediately gave her a few tasks to do. At first, Miku thought it was because she had promised to help, to better deserve the hospitality, but she sooner discovered that the woman also simply wanted to help her get her bearings. As they went from room to room, the Vocaloid learned the layout of the house, and some of the history of each location. She saw that there was a single, multi-purpose recording room, an entire spare room full of extra things that didn't fit anywhere else, a downstairs bathroom, and so on. In the living room, Miku got to hear about the movies, more books, and so much music, all stored in digital format, consumable via tablets or via the huge TV screen that was otherwise nearly invisible, hidden against the wall.

Despite the presence of the recording room, the home these idols lived in was purely to live in and to enjoy, unlike the Vocaloid mansion. This was their safe place, their haven, where they could rest and breathe with no need to worry. All living together, instead of all living on their own, had extra bonuses: from a purely practical point of view, they were never truly alone, making socializing easier, and ensuring a support system. Even if they really wanted some alone time, all they had to do was lock their door. From the legal standpoint is where the 'Humane Paparazzi' act came in. It meant that they could get some peace and quiet as long as they were home, with the tradeoff being that the moment they stepped foot out of the area, they were hounded. They couldn't wear special reflective clothes that rendered flash photographs completely useless, either, but that was part of the deal. It also extended to their tours, luckily: if they needed to travel for work, their vehicle became an extension of their home. Other celebrities chose to live alone, preferring the solitude over the privacy, but none of the Internet singers could comprehend that.

From there, Miku also had much to learn about being social. There was so much to living together than sharing a room when you felt like it and going in a locked room when you didn't: different people were more or less ready to talk or share, and even then, their mood could change that entirely. Nobody was ready to be outgoing and talkative all the time; everybody needed some time alone. Also, disagreements happened more often than she could remember from Luka's memories, but by that point, Miku couldn't precisely tell to what extent human cohabitation varied from the Vocaloids. It probably was very different; humans weren't as predictable, as a single sentence or event could either sour or make a whole day. If two people weren't in a good mood and were in the same space, the chances that something would burst or break were fairly high. Then again, if everybody was at least fairly disposed, an entire evening could be a blast!

Miku's mind spun as she tried to take that all in as she dusted the bookcases, carefully picking up baubles and statuettes to clean them before setting them down. She could already imagine that dealing with humans would be difficult, what with having to gauge moods, asking if they had time to talk before anything else, picking up on hints of poor sleep, bad news, or simply not wanting to socialize. It was such a wild game of subtle details and honestly, it scared her a bit.

When the living room was all neat and clean, it was time to cook dinner. Cul was obviously the chef, as Meiko had once been, and she once again took it upon herself to teach Miku about new foods, all the while sharing neat info. When Galaco and Kokone came downstairs and hung around the kitchen with them, information overflowed, especially about the outside world. She learned of supermarkets, where food came from. And stores, where they could buy pretty much anything! If physical locations couldn't provide a hard-to-find object, the internet filled the gaps. One could go to the stores for pickup, or have things delivered straight to their door, may it be by hand, or by drone. The same went for food, too. And not just packaged food, but hot, ready-to-eat food! And from all over the world! She learned that different food types came from different regions, with different essential ingredients, flavors, textures and colors.

She was also amazed by how connected the world was. Not all food could grow everywhere, so every day, thousands and thousands of tons of fruits, vegetables, meat, you name it, was flown to and from most any location on the planet. Every country shared, bought, sold their goods. This was the same for minerals, metals, textiles, kinds of wood, anything!

By the time dinner was served, Miku's entire outlook on the globe as a whole had changed, and likewise, the way she thought about her hosts had evolved.

Gakupo was protective, mean to her not because of her nature, but because of the pain she could bring to his friends. On the flip-side, Lily truly was her ally, looking out for her best interest, with no discernible ulterior motives. Cul was also a friend Miku could trust. From this knowledge, the Vocaloid could easily conclude that things weren't as straightforward for the other Internet Co members. Galaco was a fan, but why? What pushed her to admire 'old school' stuff so much, and did this prevent her from seeing the Vocaloid as a person, or did it encourage her to? And Gumi, why was she so blunt? Was her reason rooted in trauma, much like for Lily, or was it simply in her upbringing? And Kokone: who was she? What motivated her?

They weren't just names to the tealette any more, even if she knew next to nothing more. Knowing how events could shape a soul, how interactions could influence a mind, her hosts became complex, worth of more respect, but still deserving of apprehension.

Miku wasn't outright scared, not anymore. But she remained wary.

Over dinner, she learned about her host's plans for the week: from the next day on, they'd be working at their studio, and would be out for most of the day, every day, until the weekend. Some had to record songs, others had to film videos, and there were interviews to go to, hospitals to visit, concerts to organize, deals to finalize.

They were just as busy, if not more so, than the Vocaloids had ever been. Because of both their nature and the way they worked, they didn't produce nearly as much songs, but the quality of every hit was undeniable. Crypton worked the numbers game, going for quantity, while Internet Co went for quality. When she shared her observations, it was as if a lightbulb had turned on in Galaco's head.

"So that's how you guys stay profitable for Crypton: you guys can output way, way much more than we can. You're so efficient, it would be a loss to destroy you."

"Why keep them in mechanical bodies, though?" Kokone wondered.

Gakupo cleared his throat. "I'm sure there's a reason."

But he didn't clarify what he meant by that.

After dinner, they all watched a movie in the living room. The image on the TV was so much sharper than the screen back home, and the story was so good, Miku was amazed. She could easily picture herself spending the following twenty-four hours binge-watching all of their movies, all of the series, reading all of the books. These creations were vastly superior to the curated list they had at home.

The humans went to bed early after the movie, and Miku imitated them. She powered down easily, comforted by the presence of the lock. The next morning, she got up even earlier than her hosts, and set some tea and brewed some coffee so that it was ready for them when they came downstairs. She even had enough time to set the table, preparing the bread and jams and meats.

Lily and Gumi were the first down, and the blonde was immensely grateful.

"I can't remember the last time I came downstairs to seeing breakfast all ready," she whispered into her coffee mug, evidently still drowsy. "When was it? The last week back at your place, Gumi? Your mom wanted to see us off before we moved out."

"That's it," her girlfriend replied, her eyes downcast for the most part.

Gakupo came down next, also appreciative, followed by Cul, then Kokone, and finally Galaco, who didn't eat much in the morning anyway, but who loved the effortless, free mug of tea.

That first morning was also informative beyond description for the tealette: she learned that the previous morning, by the time she'd gotten downstairs, everybody had already gotten dressed and was awake and ready for the day. That early morning, though, only half of them had bothered to change out of their pajamas, and those who hadn't still had 'sleep' written all over them: their hair was messy, their skin oily and puffy, their movements lethargic. Most yawned periodically, too, stretching as they finished their beverage or sandwich.

Then those who hadn't gotten changed yet headed upstairs to finish getting ready, leaving Gakupo, Cul and Kokone behind to chit-chat about their day. Miku didn't listen to their hushed conversation as she cleared the table, putting everything in the dishwasher just the way Cul had showed her, and putting all the food back in its place. When she was done, everybody was still waiting on Lily and Gumi, which wasn't a problem: they weren't due to leave for another half hour.

"Thanks for the breakfast," Cul said with another stretch. "Saved us a bunch of time."

"It's no problem."

"Yes, it was greatly appreciated," Gakupo said with a nod. "I do have one question, though. It's completely unrelated to this."

"Oh, alright."

"How much are you actually considering Galaco's plan?"

Miku froze: ever since Cul had joined her in her room, she hadn't given it any thought, at least not actively.

"I'm considering it: it's the best lead I have," she admitted. "I'm simply a little bit scared of lying vulnerable on a bed, with you all looking into my mind."

"What'll it take for you to do it?"

"Trust. I need to be able to trust you."

Gakupo nodded, and said nothing more. Lily and Gumi arrived soon after, and just like that, they all disappeared.

Miku occupied herself the best she could. Cul had told her how to do the laundry while they cleaned around that room, so the tealette took to that, pausing only to consult the manual for assistance. When the first load of laundry was busy, she watched a movie. With that done, the second load of laundry went in, the first one went in the dryer. She read a short book she stumbled upon, and halfway through, the cycle started anew.

In the mid-afternoon, all of the clothes had been washed, dried, and folded. Instead of indulging in her movies, Miku decided to reflect a bit more on her situation, and namely, her demand for trust before anything happened.

The more she thought about it, the more she hated herself for saying that. She knew, to a certain extent, that Galaco and Gumi weren't bad people. They weren't mean. And, if she asked Lily or Cul to oversee the operation, she could even trust that nothing would go awry. Maybe they could talk about some safety measures: promising to keep Miku conscious for one. Maintaining an emergency stop would be something else.

But the main thing that she hated was how she had so callously prioritized her own happiness over her fellow Vocaloid's well-being. Who knew when she would fully trust the humans, and this delay would only come to harm the other Vocaloids. Any day she let go would negatively affect them all.

Miku had been selfish and short-sighted, and she loathed herself for it.

Yet, she still feared being exposed. Remembering the metallic arm, the clic of her torso as it found the latch, she shivered, and that nausea returned. She could barely even imagine, lying open and vulnerable on a table surrounded by relative strangers! And they wanted to go further than her body, and plug her mind into a computer, and spy it!

She took a deep breath.

Gumi wasn't a mean person. In fact, if Lily had found refuge in her, then Gumi probably possessed a certain skill with handling delicate situations. Remembering how carefully she'd dealt with her hand, there was almost no doubt that the woman would treat her with attention and respect, no matter her personal opinions of her identity.

Miku gulped, and eyed her finger; the whole time, it was kept under the bandage. Since Gumi had fixed it, it had stopped hurting, though she hadn't flexed it much: the thick textile prevented that. Maybe it was all better. It could be.

She delicately removed the bandage, and to her surprise, it wasn't quite done healing yet. The skin had closed up, but there was still a faint line, betraying where it had been torn apart. After testing it for a few minutes, she decided that it was good enough to keep without a bandage: the skin would continue healing just fine.

Now, what about Galaco? Miku still knew so little about her. Cul said that she was sweet and kind, but the tealette couldn't quite trust that blinded fascination she had, even if their exchanges since then had been normal enough. She didn't know how the woman would act with her in an enclosed setting, and couldn't tell if she'd be abusive.

She didn't know.

But that didn't matter: she had to do it for her friends. For Meiko, Kaito, Rin, Len, and Luka.

Time ticked on, and Miku got to start cooking dinner, knowing they'd be home relatively late that day. She decided to make an old favorite of hers', worrying somewhat if they would like it as much as she did. It was a vegetable soup, but she also prepared some noodles, should some like to eat it with some extra substance.

When the Internet Co team got home, they were surprised by the smell of dinner, and the sight of finished laundry. They ate like wolves and talked passionately about their day, the deals and the shots and the songs and the meetings. When they were done and sat back, fed and content, in their chairs, Galaco let out a deep sigh.

"I'll be honest, I could get used to this: finally home, no need to cook, no laundry to do, no other chores? It's like another day off."

"Yeah, I think we could all get used to having you around," Kokone agreed.

"Aside from all our dirty work, what did you do today?" Lily asked.

"Nothing much. I watched a couple of movies, I read a book, but I've also been thinking a bit about everything."

"I'm glad," Gakupo muttered, and Miku couldn't tell if she ought to feel offended or praised.

After dinner, Miku was forbidden from helping with the table or dishes (everybody has to play a part, Cul insisted), so she approached Galaco.

"May I speak with you?"

"Oh, sure! In the living room?"

"Maybe somewhere more private, if you wouldn't mind."

"Alright, lead the way."

Once in Lily's room, Miku sat on the bed, and Galaco took the chair, much like Cul had.

"So, what's up?"

The tealette hesitated. "I was considering letting you and Gumi go through with your plan. To see if there's some filter in my mind."

The woman seemed surprised. "I thought you wanted to see if you could trust us first."

"I do, I do, but—" she sighed, wringing her hands. "But my friends don't have that kind of time. I can't afford to be so self-centered."

"Self-centered? What? Are you telling me that your well-being doesn't matter?"

"Right now, it can't. If I'm to save my friends, I can't spare the time."

"Hey, hey, that's nonsense!" Galaco stood and sat on her knees on the ground in front of the tealette. "Let me tell you want my mom has always told me: you're your number one priority, and first things first! You love your friends, it's obvious, but you can't just sacrifice your own well-being for them like that!"

Miku shrugged a bit. "In the long run, I'm not sacrificing anything: I will be happy if the time saved allows me to be reunited with my friends."

The woman pouted. "Alright, fair enough. But how about this: imagine how heartbreaking it would be for them to hear that you've made yourself suffer for them?"

The tealette frowned. "I'm… I'm not sure what—"

"One thing is obvious, Miku: we all hate to see loved ones suffer, and we hate to be the cause of suffering, even, I can't stress this enough, even if it's well meant! I respect that you want to trust me first, and so does Gumi, and everyone else, and your friends will, too."

Miku tried to find a counter argument, but failed. She shrugged. "I just feel like I don't have much time."

"There might not be a lot of time, you're right," Galaco admitted. "Say, what do you think would help? How could I get you to trust me? I can't speak for Gumi or anything, I can't make you trust her, but I'll do my best to help you with me!"

"…How about you tell me a bit about yourself?"

"Oh! That's easy!"

So Galaco told her of pretty much everything that came to mind, starting with her childhood. She grew up in a pretty average family, single child but with tons of cousins nearby. She was close to even her extended family, and most importantly, her great grandfather. He was collector of strange things, old things, weird things, things that didn't seem to have a purpose. He had a room full of bottles with the original labels still stuck to them, a collection of typewriters, hand-powered sewing machines. Some of these antiques went so far back that even touching them, exposing them to the oils on skin, could destroy them. All of this, kept in a little antique store he called 'The Kraken'. He sold his wares to buy new ones, and often traded.

Galaco loved the place, and her most vivid memories were of her in the store, walking around, touching nearly nothing. She couldn't pin down why exactly she loved it all so much, but her Grandfather had his reasons: they spanned from 'Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it' all the way to 'without history, a country has no identity'. It was about preservation, remembering, respecting.

"I'm not really about all that," Galaco admitted. "Sure, those are lessons I've continued to remember: I'll never forget my family, since they're the ones who got me here in the first place. But I'm no historian, I'm no renovator. I just like seeing how things were. It lets me see how things change, and progress. It's like watching a person grow, but it grows slower, and over much more time, and you'll never, ever see them reach adulthood, since time never ends. Since we only live so long, I like seeing what others have seen, how the past is somehow here to stay, in one way or another."

"I— I think I see."

The woman went on to describe her rise to fame, the grueling effort of hours upon hours of practice, contest after contest rejected and denied, how her family continued to house her even after most of her friends had moved abroad, most of her cousins had left. They didn't care that everybody else seemed to move on, and helped Galaco reach her dreams. Eventually, Internet Co found her, almost entirely by accident.

"Most of the others were already here by then," she explained. "It was a bit nerve-wracking, to be the newbie, surrounded by idols I'd already heard about. But they welcomed me, and taught me more than I can say! I owe so much to everyone here."

Miku nodded. "That's impressive."

"Anything else?"

She shook her head. "No, it's fine. It's already late: I'm afraid I kept you up."

Galaco waved it off. "Nah, don't worry about it. I still have some composing to do, so I was planning on staying up late anyway."

"If you say so."

"See you tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"Sleep well, Miku!"

"You, too."

Galaco left with a bounce in her step, and the tealette was a little bit upset, a little bit in awe.

She, and her friends, had been created to sing. It had always been their intention, there was no question about it. So how did Galaco, one person among billions of others, end up at Internet Co? How did the five others do that? If they all started from square one, then what separated them from the rest?

She lied down. Come to think of it, 'square one' wasn't even a uniform thing. Gumi grew up in a garage, or worked for one: that was where Lily had met her. And Lily, who had grown from a crushed soul…

Six people had somehow ended up here, together, putting their differences aside, because they were all talented? Or was it hard work? Galaco had called it 'luck', but Miku hated to think that these people had reached this point simply because the odds had been in their favor. If it was a numbers game, then how many losers were there? How many miserable, talented, hard-working souls will never reach victory, simply because others had the luck to win?

She sighed. Humanity was far more complex, interwoven, yet broken, miserable, and tarnished than she'd imagined. It made sense for Gakupo to be cautious. It made sense for Galaco to be curious. It made sense for Gumi to be rational.

Their lives had sculpted them to be so. Nothing and nobody could blame them.

Miku wondered, all of a sudden, what she'd do once she'd get her friends back. Not only out of Crypton, but also back in their own minds. What would they do, then? Try to integrate this faceted and shattered world of humans? A world of stolen opportunities and hidden treasures, a world of love and heartbreak? Would they be accepted, or rejected? Or would the Vocaloids, freed from their shackles, be forced to return to their creators?

Would the numbers game fail them?

Miku didn't sleep that night.