A Very Simple Story (A VOCALOID Fanfic)

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Fukase had an empty plate in his hand and no clue what to do. They had arrived at Rin and Len's birthday party not half an hour ago and Oliver had already left. Well. Oliver was physically there of course, touchable and everything, but he stood with all the presence of a store mannequin. His vacant expression had not budged once in the last five minutes.

Rin was excitedly sharing a story across from them at the fondue table and clearly hadn't noticed. As Fukase couldn't tear his attention away from Oliver, it led to a completely pointless and unproductive conversation in which no one was aware of anything outside of his or her own brain.

The doorbell rang. Rin's obliviousness continued even as she interrupted her story to dash to the front hall. When they were alone, Fukase placed his hand on Oliver's shoulder.

"Oliver? You there?"

No response. Oliver stared into space like a soulless robot.

Fairy lights were strung across all the walls and scattered tastefully on every free surface. In a room so bright the dark windows became mirrors, Oliver was an obscured corner where the light couldn't reach.

Fukase swallowed nervously. He tried again and angled his body between Oliver and the other people in the bustling room. Though it wasn't like any of them paid attention to what was outside their brains either.

"Oliver." Fukase gently rubbed Oliver's arm. "Please, snap out of it—"

"That's so crazy!" Oliver's face lit up with a smile. Fukase jumped and Oliver gave a little laugh. "Who knew—"

Fukase could see the realization click in Oliver's eyes.

"Wait, where did Rin go?" he asked.

"Oliver..."

"Oh." Oliver stared over the other partygoers. "Oh." He laughed again, this one slower and sheepish. "Looks like I zoned out a little there."

Fukase couldn't respond. His worry and frustration tied knots in his stomach.

"I won't do it again, I promise." Oliver held his hand next to his face, fingers straight in an apologetic gesture. A casual, implied "I'm sorry" that Fukase would not accept.

Zoned out a little? A little? He opened his mouth. That is not a little! You're scaring me—

Oliver gasped, and Fukase started.

"What? What is it?"

"You, your nose..." Oliver trailed off and pointed at Fukase's face. He began to dig in his pockets frantically. "Tissue, tissue."

"Tissue?" Fukase pressed his hand to his upper lip and found bright red wetting his fingers. "What the...?"

"Piko! Where are you? Whatever you're doing, stop it. You're going to break something!"

An ungodly shriek of twisting, shredding metal ripped through the air, and Fukase and Oliver clamped thei

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"Do you ever think people might try to turn us against each other?" Oliver asked as he and Fukase climbed the porch steps. Muffled music could be heard through the door.