Reading "Two Worlds and the Memory of Voices" through Vocaloid Songs - Story #2

A story told in 12 chapters. An original Vocaloid song created to accompany an original story.
Chapter 2. (Production period over 1 year. Still currently in production.)

Previous part here

Chapter 2: Voiceless Prayer

In this world, at the end of an era once called the "Great Connection," a net war occurred.

Which country started it, and which ideology triggered it?
The truth of it vanished vaguely into the flood of information.
Only one certain scar remained.
It was that it decisively separated those who were "permitted to know" from those who were "deprived of even the opportunity to know."

Knowledge became power. Power determined value.
Machines stopped responding to people without value. They were no longer called by their names.

And once you fall "outside" the information—
There is almost no path back.

Mikoe was a child who had fallen to that "outside."

Her parents died early, and she was taken in by her uncle, her only relative, along with her younger sister, Suzu-ne.

From that day on, Mikoe's time stopped.
Her bachelor uncle lived on alcohol, fatigue, and anger.
While maintaining the form of a family, it was collapsing from within.
Shouting was a daily occurrence, and silence was the precursor to violence.

Mikoe held her breath.
She lived by shrinking herself, trying to melt into the gaps of time.
In the midst of that, the one she was always watching was her sister.
Suzu-ne.
A young life that knew nothing yet.
Her smile was the only thing in this world that held color.
However, that color was gradually fading.

Mikoe thought.
My pain doesn't matter.
I just can't bear to see her smile disappear.
But—

I didn't know what to do.
No matter what I did, nothing changed.
That fact alone piled up without a sound.

And then, one day.

Mikoe stopped speaking.
Anger, sadness, hunger, pain.
She sank everything into a deep place.

And at the bottom of that silence, something began to sprout slowly.
It had no form yet, and could not be put into words.
But surely, a will separate from Mikoe's was beginning to be born there.
Something that would try to protect by destroying, in place of Mikoe who tried to endure everything.
That presence, still nameless, was quietly holding its breath deep in her chest.

One night.

Her uncle's violence was more intense than ever.
The moment she saw him filling the room with the smell of alcohol and shouting, and reaching for Suzu-ne again—

Mikoe's consciousness faded.
—It should have faded, but she was standing there.

(I'll destroy him)
A voice echoing in her head.
(No. I don't think that)
Just as she tried to desperately shake off the voice in her head—

She felt her arm move on its own.

—When she realized it, her uncle was lying on the floor.

There was a broken beer bottle in her hand.

At that moment, the air in the room distorted.
The ceiling grew distant.
The world tilted slightly.

Mikoe looked away.
Don't look.
He'll surely get up soon.
She convinced herself of that.

—There was warmth at her fingertips.
It was her sister's hand.
That was the only reality.

Mikoe squeezed that hand back tightly.
And without looking back at anything, she left the house.
As if blending into the darkness of the night, the two of them fled.

The outside air was cold.
The city was already quiet.
In the distance, the low hum of machines could be heard faintly.

The city lights were gradually decreasing.
Only the warmth of Suzu-ne's hand kept Mikoe moving forward.


Mikoe no longer knew how long they had walked.
Her throat was dry, and she was hungry.
She fed Suzu-ne bits of bread she found in a trash can, little by little.

They drank water from an old faucet in a park.
Mikoe had eaten almost nothing.
Suzu-ne said nothing.
She just held Mikoe's finger tightly.
Mikoe, too, did not let go of that hand.

The city lights were becoming fewer.
The buildings were becoming old, and the figures of people passing on the street had disappeared before she knew it.
The pavement ended, and broken concrete and rusted metal lay at their feet.


Mikoe just kept walking.
Eventually, the two of them arrived at a place where there was almost no sign of people.

There, a number of unused buildings were lined up.
The windows were broken, and the walls were stained black.
In the shadow of one of them, a half-collapsed building, the two stopped.

Suzu-ne was so tired she could no longer stand.
Mikoe held her sister's shoulder and sat her down, leaning her against the wall.
Suzu-ne's head leaned gently against Mikoe's arm.
Her body felt terribly light.
Mikoe hugged her sister's shoulder.
At this rate—.

Such a thought crossed her mind.
That was when it happened.

Footsteps approached.
Mikoe's body stiffened with a start.
She gripped Suzu-ne's hand tightly.
The footsteps were slowly drawing closer.
She had no strength left to run.

The footsteps stopped.
Mikoe opened her eyes cautiously.

What appeared from the depths of the shadow of the abandoned house was an old man.
His back was slightly bent, and he was wearing an old coat.
The old man stood there for a while without saying anything.
He just watched Mikoe and Suzu-ne quietly.
Mikoe's body remained stiff.

Then the old man slowly opened a cloth bundle he was holding in his hand.
He took out a small piece of bread from inside.
The old man placed it gently on the ground in front of the two.

Suzu-ne stared at the bread.
She didn't move for a while.
A cold wind blew through.
Suzu-ne's stomach growled.
Then, she looked steadily at Mikoe's face.

Mikoe watched the old man for a while to see who he was.
Eventually, seeing the old man move a little away from them,
she nodded ever so slightly toward Suzu-ne.

Suzu-ne reached out her small hand.
She picked up the bread.
"Big sister..."
She tore off a little and offered it to Mikoe.
Mikoe shook her head.
Suzu-ne said nothing more and nibbled on the rest.

The old man beckoned slowly while turning back.
There was not a hint of danger.
Mikoe carried Suzu-ne on her back and followed the old man.

The old man said almost nothing.
Without even knowing his name, from that day on, the two began to live in that place.
Nights without lights. Rooms without heating. Days of sharing a tiny bit of food.
Even so—there was no shouting there.

One night, the old man was whittling a small tree branch by the bonfire.
Suzu-ne was watching his hands intently.

Eventually, what was finished was a clumsy little bird.
The old man gently placed it in Suzu-ne's palm.
Suzu-ne stared at it, and then the next moment, she laughed as if tickled.
That laughter, which had been lost during the days of living with her uncle, was certainly there.

The old man watched the two from across the fire, his eyes narrowing.
Mikoe felt something from the old man's gaze and his back.
It wasn't words, just the stillness that was there.
Something that gently warmed the surroundings like a hearth fire on a winter night.
In that stillness, Mikoe was able to relax her shoulders just a little for the first time.
However—


Even though morning came, the sky was always gray.
To avoid being found, Mikoe and the others hid in the shadows of the collapsed walls during the day.
Without even seeing the morning sun, they just waited for time to pass.
Such a day began quietly once again.

The future was closed off.
Hope, even that small light, was out of reach.

Mikoe wished for nothing.
If she did that, nothing would be taken away.
If she didn't dream, nothing would break.

Mikoe didn't laugh. She didn't cry either.
She just lived every day without spilling it, while confirming only her sister's warmth.
Even so—

There was one wish that wouldn't disappear.
If only, just the two of us.
If there were a place somewhere where we could live without hiding.

It was such a night.

The bonfire was flickering small.
The bright orange fire was slowly changing its shape.
Suzu-ne was sleeping with her head against Mikoe's arm.
The old man was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed.

Only Mikoe was still unable to sleep.
The light of the bonfire made shadows sway on the walls of the abandoned house.
Mikoe was watching that blankly.
Eventually, her consciousness sank slowly.
And—


Mikoe had a dream.

The sky was blue.
Not gray, but a blue that was clear as far as the eye could see.

A soft breeze was blowing across the meadow.
In the distance, there were people.
People were in a circle, facing each other.
They seemed to be talking about something.

She couldn't hear their voices.
But the peaceful air spoke of it.
No one was fighting. No one was angry.
Just by being there, they were accepting each other.
It was that kind of world.
Something soft was spreading deep in Mikoe's chest.


──I want to go there.


At that moment.
She felt someone's gaze.
Mikoe turned around.
But there was no one there.

Only the wind blowing over the meadow, and the green waves swaying far into the distance.

When Mikoe woke up,
the abandoned house was still dark.
The orange fire of the bonfire was flickering faintly.

Suzu-ne was sleeping in Mikoe's arms.

Mikoe stared at the ceiling for a while.
A warm thing like a small light remained deep in her chest.

The first prayer that had sprouted without a sound inside the girl who had lost her voice.


—It was still there, without having reached anywhere yet.

To be continued

Chapter 3 will be released soon.

Niconico is here.
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