The Creepy Post and the Vocaloid Defender
Ending my first chat with the perceptive Jisu, I sat back down in front of the monitor. Staring blankly at the screen, I realized it was nearly midnight.
Honestly, the walk from home to school was only about 10 to 20 minutes, so even if I turned in late, it wouldn't be a big deal. I could sleep in without much worry. Plus, with the stamina of a high schooler—and my confidence from my past life that I could power through no matter what—I figured I'd be fine.
"Hmm~ Hmhm~"
The highlight section of the Farewell Declaration MR. To capture the original's upbeat vibe, I was fine-tuning it meticulously. The full MR was done, but this polishing step was essential. Lifting the mouse cursor to check the pitch graph and adjust the tones required delicate control.
-Tap tap. Click.
At 1 a.m., I finally wrapped up the MR with keyboard and mouse. After a quick stretch, I flopped onto the bed—which doubled as my sleep spot—and logged into the Vocaloid Gallery. It was a gallery that had taught me a ton about Vocaloid production, so I owed it big time.
That was the first post I saw upon entering the gallery. Drawn in like a moth to a flame, I clicked it—and immediately regretted it. I was confronted with an image no human mind could process.
I could kinda understand how creators felt encountering Cthulhu in their own works. It resembled the image I'd glimpsed in my lonely past life's gallery sessions, but seeing it directly was on another level.
"Kkiyayak!"
The scream slipped out unconsciously; I clamped my hand over my mouth and frantically scrolled down to the comments with the mouse wheel. With the horrific image out of sight, I felt a bit calmer.
I escaped the mind-polluting post and checked out the popular threads collection. Thanks to gallery rules, there were no direct channel mentions, but a few posts praised the upload as solid.
"Ugh... time for bed."
With my mind at ease, sleep came easy. I was out exactly five seconds after closing my eyes.
The next day, I woke up way later than usual. Normally up at 7 for breakfast and washing up, I was a full hour behind. I'd set an alarm, but must've swiped it off in my sleep—my phone said 8 a.m. when I turned it on.
"Overslept aaaah!"
Skipping breakfast entirely, I splashed water on my face, ditched the pajamas, threw on my uniform, and boom—8:30. If I left now, I'd make it on time without running. I bolted out the front door toward school.
"I'm off!"
"Haru! No breakfast?"
"No time!"
Heading out 30 minutes later than usual, I arrived at 8:50. Jisu had been texting me sporadically on the way, probably noticing my late arrival.
"Haru! Why so late today?"
"Got lost in music study... time flew."
"Aigoo... so scatterbrained."
Ever since inheriting that lonely guy's memories, yeah, I had gotten pretty scatterbrained. He'd skipped breakfasts routinely, but as Haru—who ate every morning—this was my first skip, and my stomach protested.
-Grrrowl.
S-So... embarrassing...
The rumble wasn't huge, but audible up close. Maybe out of consideration, folks nearby pretended not to hear—though someone might've. Jisu definitely caught it; she rummaged in her bag and pulled out a cookie.
"Haru... why so scatterbrained lately? Eat this at least."
"Th-Thanks."
I didn't refuse her kindness. The crunchy, sweet cookie chased away some hunger as it melted in my mouth.
"Oh, right! What was that first song you sang at karaoke yesterday? Japanese, but it sounded cool."
Her question froze my brain in panic. J-pop was niche in Korea, and Vocaloid was alien to normies like Jisu. Should I even tell her? But I'd known her forever as Haru—I trusted her. Decision made.
"Lemme borrow your phone—open NewTube quick?"
"Huh? Sure."
On her phone, I pulled up yesterday's song via NewTube. She listened through earphones, then spoke. Yeah, Vocaloid sounded off to outsiders.
"Sound quality's weird... voice like a machine."
"Ah, that's a Vocaloid program..."
Predictable reaction. Not quite "Everyone, Haru has something to say!" but explaining to a normie was a chore. We checked the Vocaloid wiki for basics, and she summed it up.
"Oh, so... Vocaloid's like those trendy virtual NewTubers, right?"
Couldn't really argue her take. Wondered how she even knew VTubers, but it was awkward either way. Morning homeroom loomed, so I ditched the deep dive.
No point forcing understanding. That's when someone approached us.
From Haru's memories, a guy who slept face-down outside class—never chatting with anyone. Even I only had Jisu from middle school; this dude? Zero convos witnessed.
"...Take that back. Vocaloid programs are totally different from virtual NewTubers..."
"Uh... huh? Cancel."
What the heck?
He turned and shuffled back to his seat the second Jisu said "cancel." Didn't peg the chronic sleeper as that type.
Honestly... same class, but his name escaped me. Post-enrollment, he'd been quiet and sleepy—first time seeing him fired up.
Our little scene drew stares. I hated attention, and even Jisu looked burdened by the eyes.
"U-Um... bathroom?"
"Y-Yeah."
Barring that morning goofiness, lunch rolled around uneventfully. But the stares lingered from earlier.
"Haru... what's today's lunch?"
"Spaghetti, garlic bread... soup and pickles, I think?"
"Tuesdays and it's good stuff."
"Yeah."
One perk of the lonely guy's memories: school food tasted amazing. Appreciating the small stuff was the real win.
"Anyway, why'd that guy snap?"
"D-Dunno."
A Vocaloid fan would hate her comment, but she was puzzled by her own words. No need to elaborate—I just nodded it off.
"Jisu... coin karaoke again today?"
"Ooh... again? Snack bar instead? Throat's still iffy."
"Sure, why not."
My throat was better, but another session might drag till sunset. We compromised on food. Over tteokbokki, we chatted trivial stuff—where to eat, how studies sucked lately.
After school. Distracted by morning drama, I'd zoned through classes. Jisu and I held hands en route to a different unlimited tteokbokki spot—School Snack Bar vibes.
As we portioned toppings amicably, today's drama came up. Even outgoing Jisu seemed hung up on it.
"Should I... apologize? He was always so quiet..."
"D-Dunno?"
Truthfully, I had no clue. Telling her to apologize felt off—she's a normie, and it could sound similar to her. Ignorance isn't malice; forcing an apology seemed weird.
"Haru... wanna try a duet sometime?"
I gave a vague yes, we parted, and I headed home to tune the Vocaloid part. MR done—now vocals and lyrics, then finito.
Curious about the upload, I checked: over 10k views already. Comments open—some in Japanese too.
Seeing what looked like a Japanese comment stung. Truth was, I was just pasting ear-trained recreations—stiff in ways I couldn't articulate. Getting called out directly? Bitter pill.