The girl that lay in front of me was not familiar. That was the first thought came to my mind. I had never seen this girl in my life. I knew just about everyone in this neighborhood, and I had not seen this girl anywhere. Not driving a car, or walking down a street, and certainly not laying on a pile of trash.

I took a few steps back. What if the girl was dead? I definitely did not want to be caught at a crime scene. I ran back to the safety of my home, slamming the back door behind me. I began to hyperventilate. My eyes were wide, and a cold sweat broke out on my forehead.

Just as quickly as I had begun to freak out, I mentally slapped myself. It could have been a homeless person, not a . . . I refused to think the word. Yeah. A homeless person was all that it was. I didn't have to worry.

Satisfied and reassured, I went upstairs to my bedroom. I dressed into a pair of sweats and climbed into bed, closing my eyes.

However, sleep would not come. I couldn't stop thinking about the girl. This frustrated me. I saw homeless people every now and then, and it never bothered me. So why was this girl any different?

I sighed and covered my face with a pillow. This was downright ridiculous. Any other person would shake it off. Maybe it was because I was tired. Yeah, that was it. I was just tired after the concert today.

Still somewhat troubled, I drifted into sleep. In my dream, I was on a stage. There was a crowd, but they were not making a sound. They stared blankly up at me. I looked to my left, and I saw Miku in the black wedding dress. She was smiling and had her hand held out, beckoning to me. I took a step to Miku, but something stopped me. I looked behind me, and there stood a cloaked figure. A hint of yellow hair was coming out of the hood, and a hand was held firmly on my shoulder. No, not holding. Clinging to my shoulder. I looked back to Miku for answers, but she had taken on the same blank expression as the audience.

I startled awake. I clutched my bed sheets in fistfuls, my eyes frantically looking around the dark room. My breathing was ragged.

After a few seconds, I relaxed and shakily sat up. Glancing at my clock, it read 5:35 AM. I sighed. It was just a dream. But a strange one, indeed.

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and got out of bed, stretching my arms as I did so. I tromped down the stairs and to the kitchen. Not feeling like making a big breakfast, I grabbed a banana from the fridge and leaned against the counter to eat it. I peeled it and took a bite, chewing and swallowing slowly. I liked bananas; they tasted good.

I heard a small giggle. I froze in place. Gripping my banana, I quietly stepped to where the sound had come from; the dining room. I slowly made my way through the entryway, not exactly knowing what I would do.

Once I was in the dining room, I looked around. I sighed in relief; there was nothing there. Of course there wasn't. It was just my ears playing tricks on me.

Then someone crawled out from under the dining table. I took a step back, and I could have sworn my heart stopped for a second.

It was the girl from last night. She had short blonde hair, and blue eyes. She was dressed in a dirty T-Shirt and jeans, and barefoot. She looked to be my age. She looked like me, for that matter. Same hair color, same eye color, as well as a similarity in face shape. She could have been my sister.

"Wh – what . . ." I spluttered. I opened my mouth to shout, but she was already there, putting a hand on my open lips. "Please, please don't scream." She begged. Although I could see something in her eyes; amusement, maybe?

I dropped the banana and scrambled away from the girl, falling on my butt. She bit her lip. "I'm sorry. I needed a place to stay. I'll go right now." She took a step, but I shook my head.

"Wait. Don't go." I stood up. "How did you get inside my house?" I demanded. She shrugged. "Your back door was unlocked."

"Oh." I said. I quickly recomposed myself and regained a demanding air. "Who are you?" I asked. She shrugged again. "My name is Rin. I sort of gave up my last name."

I narrowed my eyes at her. I gestured to the telephone hanging from the wall. "Tell me one good reason why I shouldn't call the police right now." She froze, her eyes wide.

"Please don't. I won't ever come here again. I just – I do this a lot. I find places to stay at nights. I swear I didn't eat anything. Just please to call the Police!" I could see the panic in her eyes as she scrambled for a good explanation. I sighed.

"Are you homeless?" I sat at the dining table. She hesitantly sat across from me.

"Yeah, more or less." She replied slowly. "I mean, I used to live with my Dad. But he wasn't exactly the best father around. Always busy, never had time for me. He died in a car accident. Everything was left to me, but I didn't . . ." She took a deep breath. "I didn't want to deal with any of it. I didn't want anything to do with him. So I sort of sold everything and bought an apartment with the money. But then I didn't find a job soon enough and I couldn't pay for the rent . . ." She looked down at her lap. "And here I am. I usually try and find places to sleep at nights, and I sometimes manage to find things to eat. I'll leave and you won't ever have to see my face again." She added the last part hastily. For the first time, I noticed that she looked undernourished. Obviously, she hadn't eaten a good meal in a while.

I contemplated the situation. Here was a homeless woman, not having a solid home or anywhere to go. I had no idea if she was a crazed fan that had put on a costume to try and meet me, or telling the truth. I could either kick her out, or let her stay and do something about it. Get involved, don't get involved; that was the question.

"Do you know who I am?" I asked her. She nodded. "You're Len Kagamine. The singer." I nodded. She knew who I was. I didn't know if that was bad or good, on her part.

"I never really liked your music, though." She said. I raised an eyebrow. "I mean, it's good to most people, but I always thought that it needed something else. I mean, I don't know anything about these things. That girl, what was her name. . . Mika something? Her voice never really seemed to click with yours, and it always sounded awkward to me-"

"Miku Hatsune." I interrupted her. "My girlfriend." She didn't seem fazed by my correction. "Right. I mean, I'm not trying to insult your music. Really, I'm not. Like I said, I don't know much about music, so I'm not really one to talk." She stopped talking when I folded my arms across my chest.

"Sorry." She said after a minute. "I'll leave." She got up to leave, but I stopped her like before. "Wait. I can't let you leave." I started. "Let me help you. I know we're both complete strangers, technically, but you're homeless, and I feel obliged to help you after hearing your story. So how about you stay here until you pull your life back together. I have extra rooms, and there's plenty of space . . ." My words trailed off as I examined the expression on her face.

"No, no! I couldn't do that. I mean, I'm just some girl off the street." She looked away nervously. "Where else do you have to go?" I asked her. She didn't say anything.

For a minute we were both silent. I was about to tell her that she should just leave if she wasn't going to make a decision when she said muttered, "Fine. But only until I get my life back together."

I stood up and nodded. "Alright." I strode over to her and held out my hand. She paused, and shook it.