Discordant Harmonies: A Teto X Miku story.

Chapter Three: A Hidden Melody

Kasane Teto twirled a lock of her red drill curls around her finger, leaning against the wall of her dressing room. The concert last night had gone perfectly. The crowd had cheered, danced, and sung along with her songs, their energy feeding into her performance. She lived for moments like that—moments where she could lose herself in the music, where she felt truly alive.

But even as she basked in the afterglow of her success, there was a shadow hanging over her joy, one that had followed her from the very start of her career: Hatsune Miku.

Teto sighed, plopping down on the small couch in her dressing room. She had always admired Miku. From the very beginning, Miku had been the standard by which all Vocaloids were measured. Her voice was pure, her performances flawless, and her presence magnetic. Teto had looked up to her, studied her, and even tried to emulate her in some ways. But no matter what Teto did, it never seemed to be enough. Miku was always one step ahead, always shining a little brighter.

And now, as Teto’s own star began to rise, she could sense the tension between them. Miku had been distant, cold even, and Teto couldn’t help but wonder if her success was the cause. The thought made her heart sink. She didn’t want to compete with Miku—she wanted to stand beside her, to be acknowledged by her. But instead, it felt like a wall had been erected between them, one that Teto didn’t know how to break down.

As she sat there, lost in thought, Teto heard a soft knock on the door. She quickly composed herself, putting on her usual bright smile before calling out, “Come in!”

The door creaked open, and one of the stagehands poked his head in. “Hey, Teto. Just wanted to let you know that your next rehearsal is in an hour. Do you need anything before then?”

Teto shook her head. “No, I’m good. Thanks for letting me know!”

The stagehand nodded and left, closing the door behind him. As soon as he was gone, Teto’s smile faded. She leaned back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. What was she doing wrong? Why couldn’t Miku see that Teto wasn’t trying to overshadow her? All she wanted was to be part of this world, to make her own mark without stepping on anyone else’s toes.

She picked up her phone and scrolled through social media, her feed filled with posts from fans. Many were praising her performance, but there were also plenty of comments about Miku, Rin, and Len. Teto’s heart clenched as she saw a post comparing her to Miku. The user had written: *“Teto’s great, but she’s no Miku. Miku’s still the queen.”*

Teto closed the app, feeling a pang of sadness. She didn’t want to dethrone Miku. She just wanted to find her place in this world—a place where she could be recognized for her own talents, not just compared to someone else.

But how could she make that happen when Miku, Rin, and Len seemed to see her as a threat? Teto had noticed the way the Kagamine twins looked at her during rehearsals, the way their smiles didn’t quite reach their eyes. They were friendly on the surface, but there was an underlying tension that Teto couldn’t ignore. It made her feel like an outsider, despite the cheers of the fans and the growing popularity of her music.

As the minutes ticked by, Teto tried to shake off her worries. She needed to focus on the upcoming rehearsal, to give it her all just like she always did. But deep down, she knew that no matter how hard she worked, it wouldn’t change the way Miku and the others felt about her.

Standing up, Teto walked over to the mirror and looked at her reflection. Her pink eyes, usually so full of life, looked tired. She reached up and touched one of her drill curls, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“Miku…” she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible. “I wish you could see that I’m not your enemy. I’ve always admired you… I still do.”

But Miku would never know that. Teto couldn’t bring herself to say those words aloud, not when the tension between them was so thick. She feared that if she admitted her admiration, Miku would dismiss it—or worse, see it as a sign of weakness. Teto didn’t want to give Miku any more reason to look down on her.

With a deep breath, Teto steeled herself. She couldn’t afford to dwell on her feelings—not now, when her career was finally taking off. If Miku didn’t want to be her friend, then Teto would have to accept that. But that didn’t mean she was going to stop trying. Maybe, just maybe, if she kept working hard, Miku would eventually come around.

Teto headed to the rehearsal room, her usual bubbly energy returning as she walked. She couldn’t let anyone see her doubts. She had to be the same bright, optimistic Teto that everyone knew and loved. But as she entered the room, ready to start practicing, she couldn’t help but wonder how long she could keep up the act.

The rivalry between them was undeniable, but it was only part of the story. Teto knew that in the grand scheme of things, she wasn’t just fighting for her place in the spotlight—she was fighting for Miku’s acknowledgment, her respect, maybe even her friendship. And that was a battle Teto wasn’t sure she could win.