Vocaloid Tales: The Nutcracker

Chapter 2: The Land of Dolls and Sweets

The cold winds bit at his exposed skin, his purple hair tossed around. He had nothing left – they were all dead, and if the enemy found him, he would be dead.

If the blood loss from the wound in his shoulder didn't kill him first. He continued to clutch at his jacket over his chest, trying to stop the bleeding, but he knew he needed medical attention.

He wasn't sure he would find it.

Finally he collapsed in front of a dead tree, his weakened body refusing another step. He clutched his sword close as he spied a soft light approaching him. Were they the enemy's lanterns? Then there was no point... he wasn't strong enough to stand up again and they'd have muskets...

"To what color am I dyed? The size of the dyed thing changes because of the difference of the dyed color."

The ethereal female voice he heard echoing around him made him assume he was being drawn into the afterlife. But as his vision began to blur he saw an altogether different silhouette – sleek and feminine. As she grew closer, he could see a woman in a long, fur-lined white coat and hat, black gloves along her hands and white boots upon her feet. The winds seemed to treat her far more kindly as her long pink hair seemed to dance around her instead of flapping around.

As he watched her lips moving, singing her strange song, he recognized he hadn't in fact imagined the voice at all. Nor did it belong to a ghost... this was a real person, walking his way.

"To what color am I dyed? The color to be dyed changes under the influence of the private life."

The woman continued her approach and he thought he could see a light glow upon her features. He tried to call out to her as she grew close, but only managed a grotesque cough.

"The color for which I hope is a color with high brightness. I want to become beautiful mind. I want to become it."

She knelt at his side, and all he could truly see anymore was her soft, sky blue eyes and her stoic smile. "Mortal, what do you wish for?"

Finally he forced himself to talk. "I wish... I wish to survive..."

She laughed, as if the chaos around them meant nothing to her. "A practical wish, but you can tell me more than that. If you survive, what do you wish to do?"

He'd never been a man meant for battle – he'd only wanted to improve his craft, to make children smile and improve other's lives. But that was not a life for a man born of his low station, and thus out of options to support his sister, he became a man of war...

"I... I want to make them happy... everyone... I want to build for them and make their lives better..."

She nodded her head. "Then come with me. I can take you to a place where you can attain your desire. But you must understand the price of coming with me. You may lose everything if you lose sight of your true self."

He felt darkness closing in upon him but he understood what he was speaking to. And it gave him a glimmer of hope to realize something so wonderful could truly exist.

"Take me away... oh faerie..."

"Dark eyes, white skin, this is a doll who can sing... his passion never stops, the soul of the doll is shivering..."

Miku heard a familiar voice singing in her room as she finally awoke. She was aware of pain in her bandaged arm and winced as it shot through her limb as she tried to move it. She wiggled her feet, feeling a soft pair of slippers on them. She turned her head to see Gakupo at her vanity, his back to her as he focused on some task of his own, singing to himself along the way.