lovely // a vocaloid fanfiction

chapter 2 // questions

Static filled Flower's head as she gradually emerged from unconsciousness. What happened? she wondered. Her head slowly began rising, though when she tried to open her eyes, she saw nothing. Quite frankly, she couldn't move either. This might've been partly because her muscles were tired, but it was most likely because she could feel rope restraining her limbs. Following that realization came another— there was a piece of cloth over her eyes. Slowly, Flower came to the dull conclusion that she had been kidnapped.

Her breathing sped up. Oh no. So then the survivor wasn't friendly, on the contrary of what Flower had hoped. She tried to look around more frantically. Her instinct told her to get out of there, yet she hardly struggled. Whoever this was, they were, nonetheless, a survivor, right?

Then, a voice came from the end of what sounded to be a room. It was powerful, yet cold and cool. "You're awake."

Flower heard the resonant, silvery sliding sound of a blade being unsheathed. Instantly, her instincts began screaming at her. She started shaking, feeling the sharp blade resting calmly against her neck.

"Who are you?" the voice asked. Well, rather, they demanded. Their voice seemed to echo off the walls of the room, leading Flower to believe the space they were in was a small one. It was not like that mattered, though. There was a blade at Flower's neck, and she had just been asked who she was by another survivor. She needed to answer.

Yet, for some reason, she didn't. Flower just set there, shaking. A couple of times she opened her mouth to begin a statement, yet every time she'd end up closing it out of fear.

The blade moved, tilting Flower's head up to meet an unseen force. "Not much of a talker, are you now?" the voice asked. Flower could hear the discontent in her captor's voice. "Here, I'll give you a better one— what is your name?"

This time, she did answer. "F-Flower..." Flower nervously rasped, though she was overcome with a coughing fit afterwards. She felt the blade flinch away from her as she did so.

"Ah, I see. Okay then, Flower, how did you end up in Quadrant D3?"

Quadrant D3? Is this city separated into quadrants or did I miss something? Flower thought to herself. What the hell did this person mean? She was confused. How was she even supposed to answer? Was she supposed to recognize what they meant? She still needed to answer, especially since the blade rested on her throat again.

"Looking..." she answered anxiously, "for food, water, shelter..."

"Oh, dear," the voice muttered. "You're helpless. I am so sorry to hear that." Leaning in, they continued, "Once we're done with these questions, I'll see about preparing you something, alright?" Their voice was convincing enough, because Flower nodded.

"Good, good!" Her captor, which Flower had determined was likely feminine, sounded pleased. She could virtually see the grin on their face. "Hmm... how do you feel about the Anarchy, Flower? Do you feel like you may recover? If so, what do you imagine the perfect life to be like?"

Flower did not expect this many questions. They raced through her mind, and she tried finding the right answer as the blade traced her neck. Goodness, Flower thought. Can't this chic hear that I can't speak?

As she ultimately found her answers, she carefully began answering. "I hate it," she started, silently fighting a fit of coughs from emerging. "I hate that it ever happened."

A content hum rang from her captor. "And?" they asked, prompting her to answer the other questions.

"I believe I can recover—" Flower spoke, but not without quickly breaking off into a storm of coughs afterwards. There was complete silence until she recovered.