Chapter 24, not beta-read.

Enjoy!

The second morning for the Vocaloids also meant only three days remained until their check-up, and the knowledge made Miku worry, at first. Would her friends be sufficiently acclimated in time? Would they be ready for the life that would follow?

But after breakfast, most of her worries were nearly completely squashed: Meiko had taken a liking to the kitchen, apparently, after helping Cul with the desserts the previous night. As for Kaito, he had taken to reading more fervently and, Miku hardly dared believe it, he was writing stories. Plus, while Rin and Len continued to enthusiastically explore the house and the various activities available to them, going from chores, to helping Meiko cook, they more or less knew that their forte truly lied in the creation of shows. Rin was making a puppet show theatre by noon, and Len was talking with Kaito about the art of writing and storytelling.

It was a near-instantaneous change that happened seemingly overnight. Every Vocaloid seemed to be growing, finding not fear, but comfort in their emotions, and creativity in the feelings they brought.

Every Vocaloid, except Luka.

She continued to isolate herself, staying in the guest room, alone, until well in the afternoon. And even then, she only returned to get something to drink; afterwards, she disappeared once again. Kaito said she had brought a few books with her, but beyond that, nobody knew anything.

"Maybe she's having a hard time with these emotions," Meiko suggested. "It gets hard sometimes, but having something to do helps a lot."

"Yeah. Maybe she doesn't know what to do," Rin suggested, painting decorations for her puppet theatre.

"Or she's scared," her brother offered.

"Should someone go talk to her?" Kaito asked.

"Miku should: she knows most about emotions," Meiko agreed.

There was no suitable counter argument, so a short hour before their hosts would come back home, demanding once again that Luka come out of her hiding place for dinner, she knocked on the door to the guest room.

"Yes?"

"It's me, Miku," the tealette said through the door. "May I come in?"

After a brief silence, the pinkette gave her permission, so Miku opened the door and stepped inside.

The light was off, and Luka most defintely wasn't reading. Instead, she was sitting on her bed, her back against the wall, her legs folded under her. The books she had brought were piled in short stacks next to her.

"I was wondering if you'd like to talk a little," the tealette muttered dumbly, somehow still stunned by the taller Vocaloid's presence.

"Of course."

When Miku closed the door behind her, darkness englufed the room: she could barely see. With only a bit of difficulty, she managed to find the foot of Rin's bed, and sat, facing the pinkette.

"We were wondering if you're alright," she admitted. "You've been alone a lot."

"I have," Luka replied, her tone neither dry or upset. "I'm afraid I need some time. But don't worry, I'm alright."

Embarrassed, Miku stood. "Ah, I understand. I can—"

"You don't have to leave."

Somewhat confused, still a bit embarrassed, the tealette sat down again.

"I enjoy your company," Luka said, a bit quieter than before.

Miku felt her face burn with that all-too-familiar blush, and struggled to find a reply. "I enjoy yours', too," she confessed, hoping that the weight of her statement wasn't too obvious.

"Talking with you helps, too."

"Is there something you want to talk about?"

When Luka didn't reply immediately, Miku felt stupid once again: she couldn't read Luka's face because of the darkness, and the uncertainty was killing her. She wondered if she ought to leave, but didn't really want to: if Luka enjoyed her company, she'd sit with her to the end of time.

"Perhaps," she finally replied. "I have a lot going on in my mind."

"I imagine that the new emotions are just the peak of the iceberg."

"Quite."

"If you want, we can make a list, and we can sort through them, one by one."

Luka chuckled softly. "It's not so much that the list is long. Rather, the individual elements are hard to process. As you put it, the emotions are only the beginning, and they make dealing with the rest a bit more challenging."

"What would you like to start with?"

Somehow, through the darkness, she felt Luka's gaze on her, and she wondered what she saw. Did she see a small person desperate for attention? A fellow Vocaloid? A companion?

"I have many languages in my head. They are confusing."

With that single sentence, the penny dropped: it was languages! Languages had always been Luka's affinity! That was what made her unique in the Vocaloid team! Kaito had his writing, Len his freestyle singing, Rin had her shows, Meiko her kitchen, and Luka her languages!

How could she had missed that? Miku's mind was spinning, trying to remember the memories that weren't hers', trying to find the clues she'd missed, until she realized that, because she had been living in Luka's mind while remembering her memories, the vast array of languages at her disposal were 'normal' and all blended together: there were no clues. From her perception, speaking, hearing and learning another language were all natural and effortless. It was just another thing she did, next to eating, singing, and breathing.

"Miku?"

"Ah! Sorry, I just realized, of course! It's the languages…"

"What do you mean?"

"In the past, everybody had their own personality, and their own thing, but all this time, I've always wondered what your thing was. But of course it's languages: it's something that I couldn't detect, since I was living in your very mind… they weren't seen as extraordinary from your, and hence my, perspective; they were natural. It's no wonder I never noticed."

Luka hummed. "I envy past me. Now, it is anything but natural…"

"What? How so?"

"When my emotions returned, it was brutal and messy, much like with everybody else. There was so much to catch up on, so many events to think about, but they also sent my mind into chaos: I couldn't remember which words belonged to which language…" she paused. "I cannot talk for long. It is hard to find which words truly fit in a sentence fast enough for conversation to appear natural. The truth is, while listening is easy, with every word I say, I wonder if what I'm even saying is even coherent. Thinking, and my dreams, are a whole other mess. These past few days, I've been reading, and studying, hoping to re-organize everything…"

"Well, I dare say you're doing a terrific job. In fact, I don't think anybody ever suspected you had difficulties."

"Thank you: that's very kind."

"I'm not saying it to be kind: I'm being honest."

Luka chuckled lightly. "I can tell. Don't worry, Miku."

The tealette smiled, once again getting emotional, once again suffering the delicious flavor of this familiarity. To mask the returning tears, she asked, "Which languages do you speak?"

Luka opened up after that question. After telling her the list, she explained how some languages interfered with others, how the grammatical rules never agreed, how prepositions never made sense, how some words looked like others but didn't have the same definitions at all. Miku listened, fascinated, and couldn't help but notice that, the more carried away the pinkette got, the more mistakes she made, exactly where she had admitted to having difficulties. Prepositions got switched around ('across the room' became 'through the room'), the subject sometimes came after the verb in places where it wasn't suited, and slight vocabulary mistakes showed up. And Luka caught herself every time, at first embarrassed, but then became more and more humorous about it, laughing with every mistake she made, sometimes as she defined it.

"I think I see what you're saying," Miku playfully said when Luka was done. "It does seem like a whole challenge on top of the emotions themselves."

The pinkette shook her head, a smile on her lips. "I thought I would be more afraid of making mistakes, but somehow, I'm not as embarrassed as I thought I would be. You understand me, no?"

"Of course I do."

Luka chuckled again. "That's a relief."

"Feel better?"

"Yes. Much better."

Miku smiled, so happy she swore that she could fly. "I'm glad."

"As am I. You know," she paused. "I had wanted to talk about this before, but I was always too scared. I thought the humans would consider me broken, and our friends would think me crazy. Yet, for some reason, I trust you."

"Oh."

"Yes. You feel this, too?"

Miku wanted to deny, but something made her reconsider: had she imagined that slight hesitation in her voice? That subtle tremble of fear?

"I think so."

She felt more than saw Luka smile: tension in the room she hadn't even noticed evaporated, and she swore the silhouette she could see relaxed. "I'm glad."

The tealette fidgeted for a handful of seconds. What now? Leave Luka to her own devices, cut the conversation short right there and then? She didn't want to, but what could she say?

"How are the others doing?" Luka asked, out of the blue.

"Oh, good. Meiko is exploring the kitchen, Kaito and Len are talking about writing, and I think that Rin is going to organize a puppet show."

"Ah, they seem to be doing well."

"They are."

"And you? How are you faring?"

Miku shrugged. "Well enough."

Luka chuckled. "Don't tell me that you occupy your time solely with making sure we're all alright. Don't you remember what we talked about yesterday?"

The tealette chuckled. "Old habits die hard, I suppose."

"Do you not have your own hobby?"

She paused. "Not really, I guess."

The playful tone in Luka's voice all but vanished. "Oh?"

"Well— When I went to sleep for the first time after getting my emotions, I had strange dreams. In them, I remembered a song, and now I know, for sure, that it was a song I had once written."

"You wrote it?"

"Yes. I looked it up, but I couldn't find it. Because Crypton never bothered to record the songs we wrote, that means that I made it. I composed it. But I can't compose right now. If I ever knew anything about music theory, then I forgot it all. So, in a way, it wasn't ever something so deep-rooted in me. It's not like languages to you, or like other things for the others. In a way, I guess I'm—"

A petrifying fear took a hold of her: she was fearing that her friends might not pass the test, worried if they truly exhibited their own personalities, their own preferences, but she had spent so much time worrying, she forgot that she, too, needed a favorite activity, a passion of her own!

She had fallen behind.

While the realization dawned on her, Luka had pushed away from the wall so that she, too, sat at the edge of her bed. They were so close their knees almost touched, and despite the darkness, Miku could finally see her face, her eyes. She wanted to cry: she could hide nothing from the pinkette, not when she was so close. Her power over her was terrifying and she didn't even know it. Eyes trained on her own knees, she desperately tried to hide her sudden panic by avoiding her gaze.

Unexpectedly, two hands appeared in her field of vision, open, palms facing upwards. Confused, she glanced at the pinkette, hesitated, wondered if she was misunderstanding, looking too far into it, but finally put her hands in Luka's.

Her grip was warm, firm, and comforting. Miku wanted to cry but couldn't. How stupid and silly she was being: hadn't she come to help Luka? She wasn't there to be yet another problem on Luka's list!

"Talk to me, Miku."

She considered refusing, leaving, but Miku gave in. "I don't have a hobby. I don't— There isn't an activity I like more than others. There's isn't some pass-time that I prefer. I'm—"

"That doesn't diminish your worth as an individual," Luka tried to assure her.

"But it hurts my chances at passing the test!" Miku couldn't help but exclaim, unable to hide her tears. "Having opinions, tastes, favorites, that's a part of being human. If I can't do those things, then my AI status is threatened… I might have to go back—"

The grip on her hands tightened. "Miku, even I know that some people don't have their own favorite activity. And sometimes they like to do different things."

"But—"

"This doesn't define you as a person. This doesn't mean you can't form opinions at all. This doesn't mean you like and dislike everything equally."

The tealette listened, nodded, tried to calm down. "You're right."

"Breathe, Miku."

Those two words might have been useless, coming from anybody else, but spoken by Luka made them have the power of an absolute order. As if she'd been commanded to do so, Miku took in a deep breath, and exhaled shakily. At her second inhale, Luka joined her, not because she needed it as well, but to help her slow down, to regain a regular breathing pattern.

Within a minute, Miku had calmed down, but the faintest sliver of fear remained.

"There… Better?"

She nodded.

"Now we can work on finding a solution," Luka gently chided, her thumbs stroking the back of Miku's hands. The gesture entranced the tealette, and she had to stop herself from sinking into Luka's arms. "You saw the past through my eyes. Do you remember if there was anything you enjoyed doing?"

"Not really. There's one sliver of a memory where I talk about wanting to compose myself, but I can't remember if I'd already tried by then or not, nor can I remember when that is in the timeline. I don't remember anything else."

Luka frowned. "We didn't ever talk about these things? Didn't we spend some time together?"

Miku avoided her eyes. "We did. I'm sure we talked about that: I just can't remember. It's all so far gone…"

The taller Vocaloid didn't seem discouraged. "Very well. So, you have no hints, but consider this: there are six of us, and each of us seems to have found something, or am I mistaken?"

"No, you're right. They have something."

"Then I suppose it isn't so strange that, out of the six of us, one of us has a little bit more trouble. Especially considering that you've had your hands full with helping us for most of your time."

"…That's a good point."

Luka observed her for a moment. "You're not convinced."

"No, I'm not."

The pinkette sighed, but Miku understood it wasn't out of impatience. "How so?"

"There's too much that comes back too easily…" Miku muttered. "You never forgot your languages, for example: you're just having some trouble sorting them out. But they never left you. Rin's creativity was also back, just like that. Same with Kaito's, Len's, Meiko's… It's not all exactly the same, but it's amazing how quickly they pick things up. Meanwhile I'm stagnating."

"Maybe, because you had such a long transition period, it cannot come back to you so easily."

Miku shook her head. "That doesn't make sense. There are thing that still come back so naturally."

"Like what?"

"This feeling we get. This… This familiarity."

"Ah, that's right."

Miku tried to hide her blush again, but suspected that Luka could see it, even in the dark. "Maybe I know too much. Too much about everybody else and not enough about me."

"That's possible. You have a certain idea about everybody else's destiny, and simply because you don't posses it for yourself, rather than trust your instincts, you hope to find that same certainty."

The tealette nodded. "I guess that makes the most sense. But… How do I trust my instincts? How do I find out what I really like?"

"Do what we have all done: read, talk, be curious, explore."

"But I've already done all that. Even before I tried to 'convert' all of you."

"Ah, that's right."

"You all remember that." It wasn't a question, not really: they had admitted as much when she had told the story.

"Yes. It was a very confusing time," Luka trailed off, and Miku wondered if she wanted to add anything, but she stayed silent.

"I'm sorry."

"…Maybe you made things a bit easier for us, actually," the taller Vocaloid suddenly pointed out. "You gave Rin socks, didn't you? And words to Kaito?"

Miku felt the bitter taste of regret fill her from head to toe. "Yes, I did."

"That may have inadvertently guided them towards their current hobbies."

Miku bit back a swear. She had messed up! Instead of giving them the freedom to find their own identity, she had limited them from the start! Before even freeing them from their cages, she had put a leash around their necks!

"Hey, it's ok!" Luka hurried to comfort her when Miku started withdrawing, pulling her hands back.

"It's not ok! I— I decided their—"

"They still have the freedom of choice, Miku. If they didn't sincerely enjoy their activities, they wouldn't have pursued them."

The tealette took a few deep breaths before Luka could remind her to. "That may be true. But—"

"Plus, your clues were pretty vague. It's not like you wrote 'You need to write' on the wall. I promise, Miku, that you did not harm them."

When Luka took her hands again, she let her without protesting. She was right, but still. She took another deep breath.

"It's not like I can do anything about it any more," she muttered.

"Exactly. It's fine, everybody is happy, and you're just as human as the rest of us. Don't worry so much."

Miku nodded. "I guess I just need to try more things."

"If you'd like. But please don't push yourself, don't fake a fascination just for the sake of some exam you'll pass regardless."

"I'll try. Especially now that I know that everyone is alright, now that everyone has something to do. I guess I have nothing but time, now."

Luka chuckled. "I do hope you're not saying that now you can leave us alone. We'd miss you terribly."

"No, don't worry…"

"Also, please don't hesitate to talk with us if you'd like help."

Miku laughed half-heartedly. "Ironically, I came here to see if you needed help, not to get help."

"They're not mutually exclusive. We're friends, aren't we? We're supposed to help each other."

"Right."

They sat like that for a minute, silent, and Miku didn't know what to do, so she let Luka hold her, never looking at her, unable to tell if the feeling that made her mind spin was only hers' to feel.

Finally, the pinkette asked, "Do you feel better?"

Miku nodded again. "Yes."

"Good. Do not worry about me: I still need a day or two to sort out the mess in my mind. And don't worry about the exam: you'll pass with flying colors."

"Alright."

"You'll be ok?"

"Yes."

Luka probably wasn't convinced, but she let her go nonetheless, and Miku left, doing her best to look like she wasn't in a hurry.

Back with the other Vocaloids, she found Meiko cooking dinner in advance, Kaito and Len working on a play for Rin to showcase, with Rin putting on the final touches for her puppet theatre.

They were all going to be alright.

They didn't need her any longer. They had surpassed her. And most importantly, she had done enough.