How It Works

Chapter 2

It's All Your Fault

I apologize for the long wait. This is a confusing chapter, however, the story may become clearer when chapter three comes out. Please enjoy?

Miki Furukawa, age seventeen, a second year in high school.

Her club activities consist of being part of the Computer Programmers Club and the Astronomy Club. She is the Vice President of the Computers Club, but a regular officer for the Astronomy Club. She is handy with the equipment for both clubs.

She's an average student with above average grades – nothing else worth noting other than that she lives with her parents and her cousin in a two story home. She works at the local convenience store a few blocks from her house; Miki started her part-time job in middle of her second year in high school. All in all, she's pretty ordinary – if not for her recent hallucinations of a male figure.

The start of those hallucinations is still unknown – she may have kept quiet of them, pretending that it derives from stress.

However, she started to burst into random, violent tendencies; one incident concerned her throwing a chair across the room, narrowly hitting a student. Miki started excusing this by saying that a man took control of her and threw the chair in the face of some demon. Further reports on this incident included her going to a psychiatrist, and stubbornly refusing any more help.

This is where Vocaloid Institute comes into play…

"Piko, you have to believe me," Miki cried from behind the glass, grasping the phone in her hands. Tears were trickling from her frantic eyes as she continued to cry on her side of the booth. "Please…please…!" she coughed, desperately forcing her voice into the phone.

Piko looked at her, blankly, from his side of the glass, phone held in hand at pressed against his left ear. He sighed and looked around, then finally lingered his heterochromatic gaze on his sobbing cousin. "Miki…I wanna believe you, but everything's confusing – just tell me why you honestly think that this hallucination's real."

Miki paused, her mouth gaping at him, in utter disbelief that her own cousin – practically best friend – didn't process that her words are the truth. That the hallucination is real. That the man who's been giving Miki orders and controlling her movements is real.

Why? Why?

Why didn't anyone believe her?

"Y-You really think I'm crazy…?" the redhead uttered, her tone and expression expressing so much betrayal and disbelief that it made Piko's heart ache. He winced, not sure how he's supposed to react to that statement.

"…N-No, Miki, I wanna believe that you're completely sane – you're a lot more sensible than eighty percent of this generation, but… I mean… A man that's already been found dead for the last – what? – twenty years, haunting you? I…don't know if I can stomach that truth down," Piko reminded, his gut twisting in regret of mentioning such things. He stared back at his 'stress' ridden cousin whose expression twisted into silenced one.

Her hands trembled, and she lowered her head, with her frazzled hair covering her face. "…I-I see…" her hoarse voice whispered into the phone. The white-haired boy almost jumped at how hollow her usually soft voice sounded. His lips quivered, wanting to comfort her, but nothing came out. He cursed to himself, silently; angered that he was the one who upset her this time around.

Piko looked helplessly at the glass, watching his dear, dear cousin tremble on her seat, whole holding the phone.

"…You think I'm crazy too…"

He gasped in surprise, eyes widened, and then he slammed his hands on the counter in front of him. The phone discarded as it bounced against the tiles and was pulled up by the cord. "No! Miki, please, don't jump to conclusions like that!" Piko shouted; regret washing over him as he watched his cousin sink into despair. No, no! He wasn't supposed to be pushing her into the abyss – he was supposed to pull her up from it so she could return home.

The boy banged against the impenetrable glass – a hurt expression stretched over his young face, his teeth gritting as he kept hitting the glass.

"Miki!" he cried, desperately.

She stayed silent and then she hung up the phone and stood from her stool. Miki turned her back towards Piko as he watched her, speechless, with his arms still poised, ready to hit the glass once more. It seemed like an eternity, but the security guards finally entered the private booth, and pulled the white-haired boy from the glass and further from the counter. He didn't bother fighting back; it seemed as though he lost his willpower to fight back at the sight of his cousin giving him the cold shoulder.

"Alright, sir, your time's up," one of the guards told him, but it fell on deaf ears.

"Next time, don't bother trying to break the glass – not even a bullet can get past that," the other guard informed with a joking tone, but quieted down at the sight of the regretful Piko's face. They looked at each other, wary, and looked towards the glass to find the redhead standing there, hugging herself and trembling. It looks like she resumed looking at her foolish cousin.

Piko, suddenly full of life, slipped out of the guards' holds and crawled back to the glass, grabbing the phone.

"W-Wait, sir!"

"You're not allowed to do that!"

"M-Miki!" he cried, causing the guards to stop their acts and look at each other once more – sympathy swimming in their eyes. Both took a step back to the door, arms behind backs, and allowed the teenager to act rebellious. "I'm so sorry! Miki, please, I believe you!"

Miki opened her mouth, albeit, only a slit, and walked back towards her phone. She picked it up, cautiously, and held it to the side of her head. Piko smiled, relieved, but soon felt despair cloud over him. "…Liar…"

"M-Miki…"

For some reason everything turned black for the young boy.

"Piko, how did your visit go?" his aunt questioned, wary, and calloused hands held together in front of her chest. Piko looked at her blankly as he removed his shoes and entered the house. She looked at him, worried that something may have happened to her beloved daughter. Though, her worries were washed away by the bright and relieved smile the boy had on his tender face.

He closed the door and nodded at his aunt. "Miki's doing really well; it's like that place is more of a hotel than a hospital, y'know?" Piko informed, stretching his arms and removing his messenger bag, hanging it up on the coat rack. "There was a pool, and a golf course, and wow, I don't know if there was an end to that park they were talking about – I wasn't able to see it." He finished with a disappointed sigh.

His aunt looked at him, surprised. She wasn't informed that Miki would live in such a luxurious place for her treatment. Then she removed Piko's light jacket, and smiled kindly at the boy. She wasn't used to being childless right now – since her daughter wasn't around right now – so she was going to spoil this boy silly until Miki comes back.

"I'll go prepare a snack for you then – you two must've had a fun day!" she commented with an eased laugh, hanging up the jacket that Piko had gladly allowed her take. He nodded, and rubbed the back of his head.

"Yeah…but seriously, I didn't think I was gonna fall while walking on that stone bridge; my head's killing me right now…" he mumbled, trying not to let his distress show. How'd he fall and hit his head anyway? He's usually unbelievably careful.

Mrs. Furukawa looked extremely troubled. "I'll go get ice for you while you eat then," she informed.

Piko smiled, grateful, and nodded. "Thanks, Auntie, I appreciate it."

"Any time, Piko, now go on before my husband gets home and eats that snack." Piko feigned a fearful expression as he dived towards the kitchen, causing the two to laugh at his ridiculously childish antics.

Miki lied awake on her Queen bed, her small body over the crimson covers, and her head lay upon the pillows. Her hands placed on her stomach, one over the other, and her legs bare, covered only by the sleeping gown that the Institute provided. Again, it happened again.

The first time her father visited and she broke down in front of him in that booth; the man in the suit came in and knocked him out. She powerlessly watched her father get dragged away by the guards while the business suit man told her to stop acting so recklessly. Days later, she received a letter from her father, telling her how much fun he had with her at the Institute. Miki had no idea what he was talking about since all they did was talk to one another in a booth, with a glass between them, and her crying her eyes out.

She had a hunch of what was happening, but another patient, a girl named Aria, told her that it was the typical thing in this place. That, when an outsider enters this place, and get too close to the truth of things here, then they'll get knocked out and have their memory replaced. None of the patients are entirely sure of how it works around here, but they know the results and learned not to say anything and let the outsiders believe what they wanna believe.

However, Miki refused to allow her attitude weaken against this crazy Institute.

"You're a very stubborn girl," a man called out, and she glared at the ceiling. There he was, his intangible form hovering over her. A man with thick, blue hair and matching blue eyes; his body clothed in a white long jacket and black slacks and a blue muffler wrapped around the throat she wanted to choke. "Maybe that's why you're in captivity?" he mused. She assumed that he may have seen these life-altering events as a humorous television show.

"It's all your fault," she spat, angrily, her eyes flaring with indefinite anguish. Miki abruptly sat up, causing the ghostly man to sit down, cross-legged, and him hunching over to look down at her upward gaze.

"How so?" he questioned, innocently. "I'm 'all in the mind', aren't I?"

She glared at him, "What makes you say that?"

The man looked around the room, then straightened his posture, and folded his hands behind his head. "Well…" He started floating around the room. "…Isn't that what everyone else is saying?"

"Yeah, but…"

"Yeah, so, y'know, you've pretty much became a psychopath."

"Whose fault is that?" she screeched, pointing at him, and kept her aim even as he floated in the room.

"Mine? No, silly child, I'm just here trying to get rid of demons – you're the one who's been causing problems for me," he reminded with a matter-of-factly tone. "Throwing a chair at one? What, are you gonna try to stab another with a pen?"

She bawled a hand into a fist and tugged at the crimson covers, already screeching in annoyance. "You're real; I know you are; tell them that you are! Tell them so I can have my life back!" Miki cried, the tears streaming down her red face.

The man stopped, sighed, and landed on the ground – though his form still intangible. He mockingly walked to the girl and sat at the edge of her bed, as she bit her lower lip, not wanting to release a sob. He shook his head apologetically. "I'm sorry, but that's not how it works."

"W-Why?" she uttered, crying, and letting go of the handful of covers in her hands. The redhead brought up her hands to her face, wiping away the tears on her cheeks. "Why me? Why did you choose to ruin my life?"

The man looked at her, at first offended, and then indignant. "Ruin your life? My life got taken away from me because of…" He clenched his fists, then stood up, and cleared his throat. "…Never mind that, there's work to be done."

"I don't want to!" Miki cried, reluctantly, and dived under the covers. She curled up into a pathetic bawl, hugging her knees, and trembling in pain. "I don't want to hunt anymore of these demons! They're horrifying and I'm just a teenager!"

The man groaned in annoyance. She was so fired up in the beginning, but ever since getting torn away from her family, she's been reluctant. So if he got her back to her family, then will she go back to her battle ready self, and help him get rid of fifty demons? So far they've only gotten fifteen until she was exiled into this Institute.

Speaking of which…why did that business suit man look so familiar?

The ghostly man growled in annoyance at how his memories refused to show anything regarding the man who took Miki into this place. Maybe if they got rid of more demons then a memory will resurface? That sounded good…

"Miki, c'mon," he ordered, annoyed with her bratty behavior.

She curled tighter into a ball, refusing to resurface. "No! I just wanna be on my best behavior and leave this rotten place! I want my friends! I want my family! I want them to believe me again!"

"You spoiled child," he complained.

She pushed the covers off her and glared weakly at the man before her. "Be quiet, Kaito, it's your fault I'm like this!" she accused, her voice hoarse from all the screaming and crying. "Tricking me to be your helper; taking control of me without my permission; forcing me to hunt down these 'demons' with those blurry faces; and now, you're telling me that I'm being spoiled?"

The man, Kaito, allowed her to finish her ranting, neither denying nor confirming her accusation. Sure, he'll take responsibility of pushing her to becoming the mess sitting in the scramble of covers and bed sheets. He stood a foot away from her Queen bed and patiently stuffed his hands in his pockets, waiting for her to finish.

"I didn't take your life away from you, so you shouldn't do that to me!" she screamed, which ignited a sudden burst into the room by an agitated looking woman with silver hair wearing a bunny hood.

"…Listen, I know that you're a patient, but please, for the love of it all…" she started, anger prickling at every syllable despite how calm and stable her voice is. "…Shut. Up."

Miki silenced herself, weakened by the sudden interruption. Kaito, on the other hand, looked at the newcomer, a disinterested look in his blue eyes.

"I have no idea why Kiyoteru is wasting his time with these wild goose chases," the woman mumbled, fixing her bunny hood. "And you," she referred to Miki who looked at her, confused, and tired. "You're the worst of the bunch! The others calmed down after a week here and you, you who's been here for three weeks, you still haven't stopped bawling and throwing your temper tantrums!"

Kaito gave a low whistle, "Well someone's getting told."

"I'd really appreciate it if you didn't throw them at three in the damn morning. Like, really, do you understand the concept of people needing to sleep because we have jobs at five in the damn morning?"

Miki slowly nodded her head, scared of the woman.

She groaned in annoyance. "What? What? Are you gonna cry again? You better not, you piece of psychopathic shit; I'm tired of hearing you cry."

Kaito winced, getting annoyed with the woman while Miki winced. "She's getting on my nerves; I can always take care of her, y'know."

The redhead looked at him then back at the woman who was busy with adjusting her bunny hood and mumbling more insults that would make any mother cry in disgust. Getting agitated despite her previous weeping state, the teenager nodded; revenge running through her veins. The blue-haired man smirked in delight as he slid across the room, wind brewing and slapping the bunny hood off the silver-haired girl. The drapes by the windows started to dance with Kaito's movements and Miki sat, motionless on her bed.

The woman looked around, confused and pissed. "What the hell? Is there something wrong with the ventilation or something?"

Miki stared at her blankly and then –

CRASH!

The window closest to the door shattered and a gust of wind barreled through her window and slapped the woman across the face. She yelped in surprise, backing up against the doorframe, and whipped out her phone, dialing a number before slowly creeping out of the room. Miki allowed the wind to tussle her hair as she glanced around the room, watching Kaito waving his hands as though he was a conductor.

"Ah, isn't it grand when you have an annoying audience to scare?" he questioned, gently, and spun over to the door. The woman was finally out in the hall, her back against the wall. "Oh, she's still here," Kaito informed, disappointed, and then swung his arms to the left, as if pulling a rope, and the door slammed shut. The wind calmed and he swung his arms upward, causing the pieces of shattered glass flying to the window and fixing them in place.

The 'patient' then fell to her side, her eyes puffy and her throat hoarse. Sure, she's happy that the woman left and could be heard screaming her head off down the hall, but…right now she was so tired.

Kaito huffed, annoyed. "Tired because of the excitement or because of crying so much?" Then he shrugged and sighed, sitting at the edge of her bed. "I'm gonna go explore that lady then, she said something about 'Kiyoteru' and he sounds familiar."

Miki looked at him from behind her frazzled curtain of hair. She didn't care what he did right now – all she wanted to do was sleep. "…By the way, about the chair," she called out before he fazed through the door.

"…Yeah?" he asked, confused.

"You're the one who took control of me and threw it, bastard."

"…I see."

The woman is Yuzuki Yukari - why? Well, I wanted to use a Vocaloid 3 person - who was originally going to be Ring Suzune, but scrapped that idea because that wasn't going anywhere. Also, I wanted a temperament characterization of a Vocaloid and for some reason Yukari came to mind. I dunno, it's nice having something new, right?

This is how Miki and Kaito interact with one another - neither of the two really care about what the other goes through at the moment, but Miki is understandable since people think she's insane right now. Kaito, on the other hand... Well, we'll see more into his history some other time.

Hope you enjoyed!

~Ventus