Empty Worlds (len x piko :3)

Chapter 2

-Len POV-

Unsure what to do, I looked over to Gumi, who was nodding meaningfully at me. Turning back to the crying boy, I cleared my throat awkwardly, and spoke. “Umm…are you ok?” I offered feebly.

Gumi made an exasperated sound. I scowled at her, then looked back to Piko.

“Do I look ok?” he asked angrily, brushing the salty drops from his cheeks.

I shook my head. “Um, no… Stupid question, I guess.”

He stood up, and then looked down at both of us with a glare pure contempt. “I don’t need your pity. You just feel sorry for me because I’m not one of you spoilt little brats, and you want to rub it in that I have no friends or anyone to care about me. Well, thanks, but no thanks. And remember, I can sing just as well as you, popular or not,” he snarled, stalking away across the park. Blinking in surprise, I just sat there for a moment, stunned. No-one had ever spoken to me like that before-but then again, I’d never met anyone like this before.

I made a half-hearted attempt to go after him, but Gumi pulled me back. “It’s just gonna make him even angrier,” she sighed. “But no wonder he’s like that. If no-one listened to me and everyone thought I sounded like a boy, I’d be pretty pissed too.”

We sat there in silence for about 10 minutes, trying to make sense of Piko. My phone pinged, but I ignored it, replaying the second when Piko had turned to leave. On the back of his neck, almost hidden by his hair, I could have sworn I had seen a bright red scar, obviously fresh.

“Gumi, did you see that mark on his neck?” I asked, wondering if I was seeing things.

She frowned. “No-was there one?”

Picking up my bags and resuming the walk home, I said “Yeah, I’m sure there was something. Looked almost like-a whip scar.”

“A whip scar?” she repeated, seeming shocked. “Are you sure?”

“Positive!”

We had stopped outside Internet Co.’s studio, where Gumi lived. She looked horrified. “You know how Sony threatened to punish Piko? And then the whip scar?” She clicked her fingers in front of my face. “Do you see it?”

My eyes widened as the pieces slotted into place. “Shiiiiiiit,” I whispered, realising what could be happening to the white-haired Vocaloid right then.

Gumi opened the door, threw in her bags of carrots (and my bags of bananas), closed the door, and together we ran back to the park.

-Gumi POV-

We skidded to a stop by the park, panting. “Where would he have gone?” Len asked.

“Where’s the Sony studio?” I tried to remember anything, anything at all, about the whereabouts of the studio. Fortunately, Len butted in. “I know! It’s that really small black building a couple of blocks from here. Must be, all the other buildings I know are occupied by someone else.” We set off again, Len leading the way. As we reached the aforementioned building, we stopped again, straining our eyes and ears for any trace of Piko. Nothing-then we heard an agonized yell from inside. We were too late… “Len, it’s no use. We can’t get in. We don’t have the code.”

“No! Look, that upstairs window is wide open. If one of us stands on the other’s shoulders, they can get in, go downstairs and open the door for the other. Then we can get him,” Len suggested. Looking up, brushing strands of green hair out of my eyes, I saw that the third window to the left was indeed open. Positioning himself beneath it, Len hissed “Get on my shoulders!” to me. After a bit of falling and swearing (not too loudly), I was standing on his shoulders, ready to pull myself inside. “And… 3-2-1!” Len pushed me up with all his strength and I plunged through the window, landing inside in an undignified heap. Standing up, I crept down the stairs, passing several locked rooms. Only one was open, and it contained a few dirty blankets in a pile. A sign on the door said: “Piko U.” I thought of my own bedroom, with its fluffy duvet and orange walls, and a wave of pity for Piko washed through me. I made it into the hallway, trying to ignore the hideous shouts and whip-cracks coming from behind the walls. Quickly, hands fumbling with the lock, I let Len in, closing it gently behind him.

He walked forward a few metres to the nearest door, putting his head close to it, listening. Suddenly, he sprang back, grabbing my arm and pulling me into a dark alcove nearby. I opened my mouth to ask what was going on, but then the tall, black-haired man emerged from the room. He turned to face the open doorway, speaking to Piko. “Well, I hope you feel a little less rebellious now, Piko-chan,” he smirked. "I'm going to leave you in here for a while, so you can think about whether you want to obey me now.” He shut the door, but didn’t lock it, I noted, probably thinking that no-one would come looking for Piko. Whistling a tune, he sauntered up the stairs, hands in pockets.

-Len POV-

As soon as Sony had disappeared from view, I let Gumi go and we pushed open the door. We stood there in the doorway for a moment, eyes absorbing the horrific scene in front of us.

Piko lay on the floor, his shirt in the corner of the room, wrists tied to a chair. His back now resembled a raw slab of meat, like the ones I sometimes saw hung up in the butcher’s window; deep, bloody gashes decorated his pale skin, crimson liquid trickling down his sides. Gumi hurried past me, kneeling down and untying his ropes. I shook myself into action, running over and checking his pulse. We were computers, of course, but we had the basic physical form of humans, apart from the batteries that replaced out hearts, driving our blood around the body with pure electricity. Thankfully, his pulse was there; weak, but there. His eyes were closed-he had probably passed out from the pain. I whispered to Gumi. “Take his head, I’ll take his legs.” Slowly, trying not to hurt him, we lifted him off the ground, carrying him through the streets towards the Crypton studio, my home. When we were halfway there, I heard footsteps hurrying towards us. It was Luka Megurine, one of my house-mates, always good to have around in a crisis, or when my sister Rin got out her road roller. “Len! Gumi! What happened?” she gasped. “Who is that?”

“His name is Piko, and we rescued him. Long story,” I panted. She saw that we were struggling, and came forward. “Here. Let me take him.” She scooped him up, letting Gumi and I take a rest. As we continued, she noticed the creator’s trademark stamped onto his collarbone. “Sony, huh?”

I nodded, craning my neck to see how much further we had to go.

After a few minutes we had reached Crypton, and I hastily bashed in the code, letting everyone in. Luka put him face down on the tiled floor of the bathroom, telling Gumi to get some bandages and clean water. The pink haired woman looked at Piko’s wounds, then up at me. “Who did this?” she asked.

“Sony.”

“What? No creator would do that to their own Vocaloid!” she said, horrified. I shrugged. “Well, this one would.”

After we had cleaned him up as best we could, Luka carried him upstairs to my room, as we had no others free right then. Then she left, cursing Sony under her breath. I sat down on the swivel chair by my desk, and looked over at Piko, unconscious on my bed. I hummed under my breath, getting out my phone. Opening my email, I scrolled through the inbox. Fanmail, fanmail, hate mail, a message from Crypton about an upcoming concert-and one message from Utatane Piko. So he does at least have a phone. Curiously, I tapped on it.

From: Utatane Piko

To: Kagamine Len

Subject: Help

Kagamine,

I need help. Sony after me, he’s nearly got me. I really hate u, but u and G r the only 1s that know what Sony’s like. Well, u don’t know everything, but still. Come to the black building near the park, I’ll be round there. I just need help, not ur pity.

Utatane.

So he wanted us to help him. I glanced at him, feeling guilt wash over me. If I had just checked my phone when it pinged, maybe he wouldn’t be like this right now. Sure, we’d saved him, but too late to do much good.

Piko was still lying on the bed, his face bruised and pale, but more relaxed than I’d seen it before. I stood up and went over to him, tentatively taking his hand, wincing at the red rope marks on his thin wrists. “Um, well. I know you can’t hear me, but, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. It’s my fault that you’re like this-I should have checked my phone. I’m so, so, sorry.”

And...Part 2! Sorry it took so long... :/ Hope you enjoy!!