A/N: I have a new obsession with Vocaloid: China, especially Luo Tianyi x Yuezheng Ling. However, there is a lacking of such fics on this site, so I shall contribute! I hope this will be an enjoyable read! If anyone has story requests for this pairing or Negitoro, PM me, I will be more than happy to oblige! However, it is the Mid-Years now, though it doesn't really seem like I care, does it? I can't get this idea out of my head, I probably just flunked Chemistry...

After listening to Chinese songs, I realize how bad I am at my own Mother Tongue… At least I know enough to be able to add basic Chinese to this story.

Please read and review!

Haruka

[Tianyi's POV]

Stumbling backwards away from my classmates, I trip on a tree root and fall over. I land heavily, scraping my knee, but I do not make a sound, gazing up at my attackers blankly and silently. I am unable to do anything else but wait and see what they will do to me today.

"You don't belong in school!" "Girls belong at home, serving boys!" "Can't you see you're not welcome? Get lost!" They are all sneering at me, surrounding me, pelting me with insults, tree nuts and rocks. "You're too stupid to even talk! How can you even hope to study?" "Mute!"

I am not mute in the physical sense, I can speak! It is just that I can never find the courage to actually say anything! My parents told me I said my first words at the age of ten, and they were "Please stop worrying". Throughout my fifteen years of existence, I have barely said ten sentences. However, I am not mute, and I am not stupid either! If the teacher didn't take away ten marks from every paper I do for being a girl, I would top every class! However, with my maximum score set at 90 marks (which I often get), I am always the bottom of the class of promising firstborn sons of the villagers.

"Gun dan! Gun dan! Gun dan!" the boys are chanting, "Get lost! Get lost! Get lost!"

I get up and turn to flee immediately, not giving them the satisfaction of hearing a single sound from me. I hate this; I end up running away every single day, helpless and only able to cry alone up on my field. I absolutely loathe going to school, but I will not stop as my parents have big dreams for me and I long to fulfill them as much as I can. I am their only child, a daughter, and they have decided to treat me as if I were a son. It has drawn to me much negative attention, many challenges and innumerable skeptics that keep telling my parents that a girl cannot become successful. "Boys and girls are different. Boys have the brain for schoolwork, girls have the brain for housework," they 'advise' my parents constantly, "Trust me, this girl will only disappoint if you force her to do things boys should. That is why, traditionally, only boys go to school."

For my parents' sakes, I have to prove all those skeptics wrong. I have to work hard and try my best to do so well the teacher will be stunned and stop taking away my marks. I have to make my parents proud of me, I want to be someone that they can boast about to the other villagers.

However, it hurts so much… Living like this is lonely. I have no friends, the boys and other villagers sneer at me and look down on me, and the other girls refuse to have anything to do with me. My only companion is my Dizi, a Chinese flute, and right now I am heading home to take her out to the field. It makes me feel pathetic; my only friend is a piece of bamboo.

I do not really mind though, I love to play music, it is the only way I can express my feelings, my dreams, my opinions… Music is my replacement for speaking, in music I am able to say all the words I want to say but never can bring myself to.

When I get home, mother is cooking something as usual. "Tianyi," she calls when I enter the house, "Father will be back for dinner at seven, don't be late!" I nod wordlessly; she does not see it as she has not turned from the wok. She is frying the pheasant that I trapped yesterday; there must be something special if she is using our precious oil for a meal.

I am not bothered to ask, I will find out soon enough, and I head to my bedroom to take my beloved Dizi. Father's colleague gave it to him when I was a little girl and father gave it to me as a birthday present. He told me ancient Chinese princesses played this instrument, and he found me just as fair and beautiful as an ancient Chinese princess. I had taken it from him without a word, but my eyes managed to convey my gratitude. I taught myself everything about my Dizi as no one in the village could play a musical instrument. Many of them do not even know what musical instruments are and what they look like, so I had to figure everything out by myself. It was tough at first, but I quickly got the hang of it, as if something deep inside me already knew what I had to do.

The field I always head to is on the top of a slope, with dirt too barren for anything but grass to grow. Standing here all alone, I feel as if I am the only person in the world, and it does not make me any lonelier than I usually am. The sky, a beautiful pale blue like my shirt, looks close enough to touch, but I know if I reach out my hands I will touch nothing. Nothing… sometimes, that feels like all I have.

I raise my instrument to my lips, take a breath and start to play, following a painful melody that originates from my chest, letting the notes tremble as my heart wavers, letting them overflow with the tears I rarely shed, letting them bite sharply with the bitterness I hide deep within myself. The notes grow shrill with my desperation to find some purpose in my life, screaming out the message I long to convey. 'Help me, my life is meaningless and I cannot carry on much longer!' Then they grow darker, dimmer, pulsing faintly with the pitiful existence that is my own. Laden with my loneliness they sink, trembling violently.

My knees buckle under me and I stop, sobbing softly as I gently remove the instrument from my lips. I hate this life I am leading! Living alone is sad… I want someone to be my friend… Even though I am sobbing, I barely make any sounds; why am I always so quiet? If I were outspoken, if I were someone other than Luo Tianyi, they wouldn't treat me this way, would they? If I were a boy, this would never happen! If I were born in the city, everything would be different! It is all my fault for being born where I am as who I am!

"Hai er, ni wei shen me zai ku?" Child, why are you crying? I start at the sound of a man's voice and turn to see a pale man in an expensive suit, someone from the merchant class or higher, standing at the base of my field. The look on his face tells me he has heard me playing, the very thought terrifies me.

Before he can call out to me again, I turn and run, fleeing down the slope to the village as quickly as I can. He chases, calling out for me to stop, but it only makes me run faster. He has heard a song from my heart; it makes me feel violated somehow. I have to lose him; I do not want someone who has heard what I want to convey catching me and confronting me about my feelings. All I will do is freeze and stare wordlessly and blankly, like a doll.

Being lithe and fit, I lose the man quickly and arrive back home only slightly out of breath. I smooth my hair and clothes back to perfection to avoid any awkward questioning before I enter the house. Mother has finished cooking and is laying the table, patiently awaiting father's return.

"Tianyi, come and help Ma wash the dishes!" I keep my Dizi and then hurry to obey her, trying to push the thought of that man eavesdropping on my song out of my head. He probably could not understand, anyway, and I will never see him again. Merchants rarely visit such a small village that can barely reap enough food to survive, for we do not have a single yuan to spare.

[Man's POV]

Where in the world has that girl gone to? She is the most talented Dizi player I have ever had the privilege to listen to, her techniques were amazing and her music had soul. Rubato, staccato, lento, adagio, she played them all perfectly in that single piece, that single piece that sounded like the sobbing of a wounded heart. I have to get her into the Youth Orchestra School; she will be the most valuable addition yet!

"Excuse me," I stop a teenage boy to inquire, "Do you know where a girl with gray hair and green eyes lives?"

The boy scrunches up his features and points in the general direction of his village, "There's only one girl who looks like that in this village. Her name is Luo Tianyi. Just head to the village and ask; everyone knows her." I thank him and as he passes by, I hear him mutter scornfully under his breath, "Mute idiot."

Mute? Is she mute? Is that why she cried without a sound? Is that why she did not answer my calls but instead fled in terror? It matters not if she is mute or blind or deaf, anyone with that level of skill has to be in our school, it will be a waste of her goddess-given talents otherwise.

I stop an adult this time, choosing a female because women generally know everything about one another's businesses the way men are never bothered to. "Excuse me, where does Luo Tianyi live?"

She looks surprised as she points to a rather rundown house, "Right here, sir. May I ask what you are seeking her for?" I ignore her, not wanting to give her anything to gossip about, heading straight for the house she had pointed to. I knock on the door respectfully, spotting the tattered pair of blue shoes the girl had worn earlier by the door.

A middle-aged woman opens the door and looks surprised to see me; everyone is surprised to see someone from another class in their area after all. I spot the girl from earlier seated cross-legged on the floor next to a dark skinned and burly man, presumably her father. "I am an official from the Beijing Youth Orchestra School, and I am here to offer Luo Tianyi a scholarship to Beijing."

Their jaws all drop and there is a silent moment before the girl's mother ushers me in and seats me at the table, offering me meat. I decline, not really wanting to touch peasant food, and instead answer their questions about the school and why I want to give their daughter a scholarship. I explain to them that her Dizi playing is exquisite, the most heartrending melody I have ever heard came from her, and I would like her to play for my two companions and me later to determine if she is YOS material.

The girl sits mutely at the table and stares at me blankly throughout, I cannot tell what is going on in her mind at all. Her green eyes are perfectly reflective, showing me nothing but my own emotions, shrouding her in mystery. She looks like a doll, perfect, blank, with glassy eyes that show nothing. She breathes so quietly you cannot hear her at all; she seems to blend in with the empty space around her.

Another knock on the door is heard and my companions stick their heads in, asking, "Do you have a child that can play a traditional Chinese music instru- Zhiming, so that's where you were!"

I invite them in with my hosts' approval and tell them about Luo Tianyi, and they all agree to listen to her and offer her a scholarship on the spot to leave with us to Beijing tomorrow if she is as good as I said. "Xiao Tian, qu na ni de Dizi, chui yi chui gei shu shu men ting," her father nudges her gently (Xiao Tian, go and get your Dizi, play a little for these men), and she rises obediently. She does not say anything at all, and I ask curiously if she is mute.

Smiling awkwardly, the girl's mother tells me, "No, Tianyi is not mute. She just doesn't talk very much, sir."

I nod, rather surprised. Musicians are usually rather outspoken types, but I suppose they can be just as introverted. The five of us sit in awkward silence until the girl returns, holding a Qudi in her hand, ready to play for us. I wave my hand and tell her to start; she raises the flute to her lips and obeys. The melody that flows from her flute is much different now, it is an upbeat tune that reminds me of Spring, where life springs forth from the warmed ground anew, having toughed through the icy, unforgiving Winter. However, the song steadily grows darker, sadder, as the seasons pass and the cold creeps in again. When I close my eyes I can see it, the cold snow, the trees bent under the howling winds…

My companions and I break into a stunned applause when she finishes, offering her the scholarship immediately. Her parents look shocked as well, as if they never knew she could play so wonderfully. They agree enthusiastically to let her leave with us tomorrow, and when we ask her for her opinion she gestures to her parents. Taking that as a yes, we arrange for a car to take her to the train station where we will meet her tomorrow, glad to find at least one student to take in. Few peasants can actually play a musical instrument after all; they are much too busy trying to fight the land and the sky for all the food they eat.

The other scouts who went to the outskirts of the city must have found more students to take in, However, I am sure Luo Tianyi will be an A-rank student living in the hotel-like A dormitory and valued, while the other scouts' kids will be B-ranks at most, maybe even D-ranks that live in the communal dormitories and are first to go if they mess up for a whole week.

One A-rank player is better than one hundred D-ranks, I am sure this girl will make us all proud in Beijing, and carve out a name for herself among the big shot musicians.

[Tianyi's POV]

Mother and father are very happy that I am going to Beijing; they are proud of me and tell me so repeatedly. It should make me happy, but I feel rather apprehensive. This village is all I know, and though it is far from Heaven, it is still my home. Indeed, it is more of a sad place than a warm place to me, but at least it is something familiar, and it is where my parents are. Beijing, however, is a completely different place, a place where girls and boys are treated the same way, a modernized place. How can I, a lowly peasant girl, possibly keep up with them?

However, mother and father want me to go, so I cannot give this opportunity up. A boarding school in Beijing, the capital of China, only the smartest and most treasured of sons could possibly dream of such a thing. It is a chance that will not come by again, so I should take it and try to make a better person out of myself.

Word travels fast and soon, the entire village is listening to mother happily telling them about the apple of her eye, her beloved princess, getting a scholarship. The boys in my class glare at me enviously, seething; I ignore everyone's presence and retreat to my room where father is helping to pack my bag.

"It might get lonely in Beijing, Xiao Tian, but I want you to hang in there for us, okay?" he asks me as he folds my meager clothes and places them into a threadbare bag. I nod wordlessly; he ruffles my hair and tries to discreetly tuck about sixteen yuan into my bag. I stiffen, digging them out and handing them back to him, but he assures me that I can keep them and hopes that I will at least be able to buy the basic school necessities I will require in Beijing. "This is the least I can give you, sweetheart. Do well in Beijing, make us all proud."

I want to thank him, but emotions have fused my throat shut, and I can only take the money dumbly as he fills the rest of my bag with a few fresh fruits, a faded family photograph and my beloved instrument. "If you need to buy more Dizi, do not hesitate to do so. We'll work a little harder here to pay for it," father tells me, I try to shake my head and decline his offer, but again my body refuses to obey me. I stand there in silence until he hands me the bag and heads out to call mother back in so we can finish our last meal as a family.

The food has gotten rather cold but it still tastes good; however, my throat is still fused shut and I can barely swallow anything. I end up sipping my tea and enjoying the faint sounds of crickets and birds in the wind, the noises made by our pathetically skinny pigs, scrawny chickens and annoying single rooster. I wonder if I will ever get to hear these sounds again, I may be trapped in Beijing playing music for people for the rest of my life, unable to visit my family and no longer allowed to live in this village.

The last family meal we have together is silent as usual, and at night I curl up on my rag on the floor to sleep as usual. Mother wants to give me hers as well, to let me sleep well for my final night, but I manage to push it back to her and get the message through to her without words.

I fall asleep listening to the sound of the gentle Spring rain against the tin roof, lulled to the land of dreamless sleep by the serenity of nature. The last night in my home is like any other, colorless, mundane, lonely…

[The next day]

The time has come for me to leave, I stand outside holding my bag silently, staring awkwardly at my father, who is waiting for mother to get ready so they can take me to where the car will be waiting. I want to thank them, but I cannot say it, so I dig out a pad of writing paper and write my message there instead. "Xie xie." Thank you. As mother emerges from the house, I hold out my message and bow deeply, hearing them inhale sharply.

"Bu ke qi, Tianyi," mother wraps an arm around me, "No need for thanks, Tianyi." Father joins in to make it a family hug, holding me tightly in his strong arms. I try to retain as much of their warmth as possible, not knowing what Beijing will be like for me. It may be cold and lonely there, so I might need the memory of my home to keep me going.

The entire village, skeptics, snobby boys and all, gathered at the edge of the dirt road to bid me goodbye as I climb into the fancy car from the city. A few boys make rude gestures whenever they think no one is looking, obviously jealous, and I find myself feeling a twinge of pity for them. I can hear their hearts pining for a chance like mine to get out of this village and be somebody, to go to a place where one's next meal is guaranteed, to make their parents proud. However, there is no shortage of intelligent boys and girls in the big cities, and their level of intellect would be scoffed at in the city. Unlike me, they have nothing to make them stand out above the rest, and they are bitter about it. I feel as if I should be shouting at them, I feel as if I should be angry at them for all they have done to me, but I cannot bring myself to feel that way toward them. My heart aches for them, them who made my life meaningless.

In no time at all, the village has disappeared in a cloud of orange dust, and I am seated alone in the cold car staring at the black leather seats mutely. The driver tries to make small talk, but when I do not reply he gives up and turns a black knob up, making the volume of the music in the car increase significantly. They are playing Orchestra music in that weird silver box, a 'radio' or something like that, and there is someone singing to it. The music is nice, but it lacks soul, the singer's heart song does not match the emotions of that which he is singing.

When the car pulls to a stop, I am at a massive stone structure, the train station. The men from before guide me on to the train, I recognize them by the guy with the bald head and the guy with the strange spiky hair that overheard me, and explain to me what will happen in Beijing. I will meet the other new students outside the music room, where I will wait to be assessed and appropriately sorted into a rank according to how valuable the directors of the school saw me. A-ranks lived in rooms like hotels, two to a room, and were given an unlimited supply of food we could cook by ourselves or request chefs to cook for us. B-ranks lived in classic school dormitories, four to a room, and were given a more restricted range of food. C-ranks were served in the canteen, but had a choice of what to eat, and lived in dingy concrete rooms (one of the men called them "cells") of four to a room. D-ranks lived under cramped conditions and ate what was available for them; there were eight people to a room with four beds in the D-rank dormitory.

"If the conductor reports that you have performed badly overall for a week, you will be demoted by one rank. If you have no rank below you, you will be sent home," the man with a red tie and a shiny bald head explains, "An A-rank has never dropped before, though, and I am sure you will be among the As."

I just stare blankly and silently at them until they realize I am not going to respond to them. The spiky haired man gives me a lollipop and then sends me off to the train carriage reserved for students to rest or do whatever I want. I place the sweet amongst my other things, clutch the threadbare bag to my chest and try my best not to cry.

Beijing, capital of China… What is it that awaits me there…? My new life begins today, in a place far away from home…