Chapter Thirty-Three

-Miku-

"Hey, remember that time when you sang in front of the class for that project in music class in second grade?" Piko laughs, walking me in the door of Belle Fashion Studio. Something about this place looks strangely familiar, though I can't put my finger on what.

"Yeah," I grin, ducking under his arm as he holds the door open, "though I'm surprised that you still do."

"I remember everything. It's kind of… y'know, a part of me, I guess," he shrugs.

"So like, a photographic memory?" I ask, turning to his multicolored pair of eyes.

"I-I guess you could call it that, but not really. It's kind of been giving out lately," he admits.

"Oh," I shrug. "Hey, uh, are you going to go with me… because…" I start, signaling for him to leave as I lean against the door to room CV03.

"Right," he sighs, his eyes softening as his shoulders relax. We simply smile at each other for what feels like hours. "Uh, good luck with Miki," he says, finally snapping out of his daze and pulling me out with him. "I'd better go," he says, still not losing the smile. I look down to see that I'm really no different.

Hesitantly, I creak open the door, trying not to draw any attention to myself. I am surprised to see a tall thin girl with split blonde and brunette hair, variegated bangs shielding her bright amber eyes. I narrow my eyes in confusion when I see a golden crown sitting atop her head.

"Who are you?" she snarls, turning to fire me a reconnoitering glare. "This is a private office, meaning that you can't be here."

"I-I'm Hatsune Miku, a good friend of Luka. I'm here to speak to whoever is in charge of this," I say, my voice coming out a bit shakier than I planned it to.

"Oh," says the girl, lightening up for the lamest excuse of a split second, only to return to her scowl. "He's back there. I advise you to tell him your name first. Your future depends on it," she growls. That was a joke… right?

"Uh… thanks," I mumble, crossing the room past the desk to see who looks like the man in charge. He has the longest violet hair I've ever seen on a man… almost like… a plum… or better yet, an eggplant. Something about his figure seems mysterious to me. I can't help but cautiously take a step closer in order to get his attention so I can get things back on track. "Excuse me," I mumble.

He turns around, his dark eyes heavy, vicious… and somewhat fascinating. "Who are you?" he asks, nearly as grouchily as the girl wearing the crown.

"I-I'm Hatsune Miku a good friend of Luka," I give the same introduction that I gave to her.

"Who let you in?" he asks. I swallow down the scratchy feeling rising in the back of my throat.

"That doesn't matter," I quickly say, only to cringe in realization that this guy probably isn't one I should mess with. "The problem is, she's injured, and she can't model," I sigh, tying my hands uncomfortably behind my back as I try to look presentable.

"But the dress!" he nearly shouts, slamming his tight fists on the table, his knuckles almost as white as his shock-stricken face.

"D-Dress?" I repeat quietly. He then turns to me, a look coming across his face that I can only really describe as… avaricious.

"You," he stares at me avidly, "Can you walk a runway?" Gah, I haven't even thought about that part… All I really cared about was getting the money.

"I-I guess so," I stammer, my words rolling out in heaps. His glare instantly switches to one of annoyance.

"I'm busy right now, but go find Miki backstage in room CV01. She's got bright red h-"

"I know, I know her, thanks," I quickly cut him off, dashing out the door to the hallway. That certainly was strange… now, to find Miki, if only I could-

"Oh, sorry!" I hear a rushed-sounding voice above. I blink twice to see I am standing face-to-face with Miki Furukawa. "M-Miku?" she stammers, her large cherry eyes widening. I nod slowly.

"Hey Miki, Luka can't make it, she's injured, and I'm here to take her place," I explain quickly, trying my best apologetic smile. Miki just looks confused, her red hair tangled in her hands.

"You?" she asks, clearly baffled, her eyes darting all across the room.

"Yes, me," I sigh, "But look, Miki, the other thing is… I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" she gasps, her eyes widening even further. "B-but-"

"Whatever I did to make you hate me, I'm sorry. And you know, it wasn't necessarily my fault, it was more-"

"Forget it," she snaps. I swallow down the rest of my words. "You don't have to be sorry. I've moved on… but you know…" she starts, a smile shining onto her face, "I think Piko has good judgments," she grins. We both let out a relieving laugh. Piko was right… he had all the right reasons to like her, I guess.

"Hey, about that dress…" I say, twirling a strand of my long teal hair.

"Right," she nods, "Follow me." I duplicate her stride as we make our way backstage where rows and rows of stylish outfits are on hangers. I take a moment to look around, seeing flashes of black, white, cream, and red catching my eye. In the center of the room however, my gaze suddenly snaps to a black dress with a gold buckle hanging on a mannequin. A gold faux leather jacket hangs over it. I inhale a breath as I take in its magnificence.

"I-Is that it?" I breathlessly ask, not taking my gaze off the wondrous item as Miki crossed the room to meet me.

"Nope," she sings, snapping her fingers in front of my face. My eyebrows furrow in confusion as all of the optimism seems to vanish out of me.

"I-It's not?" I stammer, searching the room down to the last corner in hope for anything that could even attempt to challenge this dress.

"This is," I hear her say, her cheery voice making the perfect grand introduction. I spin around on my heels to see her fumbling around in a closet for the right dress. All this… and my dress is in a closet?

From the closet, she pulls out a black dress similar to the one on the mannequin. This one, however, seems to be a bit more… classy? It appears to be the kind of thing a businesswoman might wear on a day she has a meeting. I guess it would have to be a really special meeting…

"Good luck," she snorts, shoving the dress in my arms. Grabbing onto it before it falls, I stand awkwardly, simply blinking twice. "Well… aren't you going to try it on? We don't have all day!" Something about this dress just… doesn't look as me as that other one did. This one is more… it's more like something a certain friend of mine would wear… I pull at the hem uneasily, tracing the obscure lines of stitching with two delicate fingers. Gee, it sure is short… Who designed this thing anyway?

"It's a Mr. Kamui original," She sings, rolling her eyes as she lets out an exasperated laugh.

"That explains a lot," I mutter under my breath, laughing along with her.

"So you've met him already?" she asks, her eyebrows rising. "Did he come across as impressive or creepy?"

"Both," I shrug. She grins.

"How?"

"I was impressed by how creepy he could be," I simper, my gaze soaring to the ceiling.

"Yeah, that's always how he is to the g-" she abruptly stops mid-sentence, her eyes darting to the left. "Y'know what?" she gasps, "Never mind." I join her in laughter as we both flick our hair.

"So that means we're friends now?" I ask hesitantly, wearing a smile.

"Definitely. I was so wrong about you," she admits, her smile still alive.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"I-I always thought you did it on purpose, y'know? Like, and it was your fault that Piko didn't like me. And I guess in the end, it's really not your fault at all. But, I wouldn't blame it on him either, because well…"

"Wait, so who do you blame it on?" I ask curiously, holding my breath in fear of the impending answer.

"M-Myself," she confesses, her shoulders sinking in guilt. "And so, I guess I took things too seriously, and well… I strived to be better- perfect, even. But… it only really made me sadder and sadder, and I kind of gave up. That was when I moved to Paris."

"But didn't Piko move to Paris in fourth grade?" I ask.

"Yeah, but…" she starts, shrugging sheepishly, "I wasn't done trying to beat you at everything." My eyes widen in shock as the answer sinks in.

"Y-You tried to beat me at everything?" I gasp.

"Yeah," she admits, throwing me an apologetic smile. We just stand awkwardly for what seems to be the longest five seconds ever.

"Did I win?" I laugh, grinning at her jokingly. She scoffs and shakes her head in absurdity.

"Yes," she hisses, giggling as her crimson eyes light up in amusement. Piko was right… she does have an amazing laugh…

"Hey, y'know, Piko told me a lot about you. He couldn't keep his mouth shut," I tease. "I think he misses you," I poke at her shoulder.

"Nah," she smiles down to herself, running her fingers through her long cherry red hair. "Plus, I mean, you kind of deserve him more than I did. I didn't even deserve my ex. Some other girl that I know always has to walk on by so that my guy can drop me and chase her. In this case, it's Luka," she shrugs.

"Wait! Luka stole your ex?" I gasp.

"No, not knowingly," Miki explains, "It was more like what happened with you and Piko."

"Oh," I sigh, shrinking in guilt. "Well, I guess there are things that certain people just can't get away from," I attempt to make her feel better.

"What do you mean?" she asks, tilting her head in interest.

"L-Like…" I stammer, trying to think up an example. What can't I get away from…? "I can't ever get away from Vanilla ice-cream…" I admit, grimacing at the shallowness of my answer, "It's like, I never want to try anything else." I look up to see her blank reaction. "I guess I'm that way internally too. I'm always stuck on the same path and I'm not even willing to look at where the road may turn… And really…" I sigh, "I'll just end up at a dead end at some point."

"That's… deep," Miki interrupts my empty stare and hollow face. "Maybe your problem is worse than mine," she shrugs.

"No, no, no!" I assure her, holding out my hands. "It's just… no! You don't have to worry about me, I'm not important," I convince her.

"But what kind of friend would I be not to help you in return?" Miki asks. I hesitate to give her an answer.

"A good one," I coldly snap. She swallows. "Now, shouldn't I try on that dress?" I sigh, smoothing down my hair.

"Y-Yeah… Of course…" she frowns, not even meeting my gaze. Aww, great.

I'm so sick... *coughs*

Sorry, I really don't feel good at the moment. Yesterday was kind of a blur for me. I fell asleep at 4:30pm... and then slept until 10:00, when I forced myself to get up so I could eat dinner. I swear, at that moment I felt like my knees would give in at any second. But, I walked downstairs anyway, not to mention the fact that I felt like I had grown five inches. And then, I forced myself to eat and drink water, which didn't feel natural at all. I went back to bed at 10:15 or something like that, then I fell asleep until 1:00am where I felt like I wasn't even sick at all. So... I read this one really good Rin and Len FanFic until 4:30am. Now... it's 11:12am the next morning, and I feel as alive as ever (that actually wasn't sarcasm).

This is all perfect timing, too. Tech week starts tomorrow because my show is on Friday. Oh well. :)