It seemed to actually just be a matter of the wrong audience. The people who loved Miku didn't like her at all, and she had found that discouraging. Until she had found the right market. These people were people who found Miku's voice too high and tinny for their tastes, found her excellent vocal technique irritating. Maybe Haku was a boring singer, but now she stepped out in a simmering smoke-grey dress, into the single violet-tinted spotlight, a shining black baby-grand beside her on this small stage. She drew her breath to sing Moondance, an English song from some decades ago and Haku knew that here, at last, she was the star she had always hoped to be, even if it wasn't to the same grand audience. Hers were regulars, who came back night after night, and would continue to do so, regardless of whether the fashions dictated a time for reinvention or not. This small stage in a quiet club, this was all hers.