''Miku...'' Len whispered, watching her from his window. He saw the teal haired girl walking down the road, walking in the direction of her own house. The house that was opposite his.

As he watched her, he thought he could feel something aching, in his chest. It was a strange feeling, a foreign feeling that he was unused to. He didn't know whether or not he ought to be worried, that he felt such a thing - the ache was a bitter-sweet one. It was a bitter pleasure, watching the tealette walking into her home - not that he understood why he would feel that way about her. This was all very strange.

He had left school early today, mainly because he hadn't wanted to be treated like he was invisible. No one had missed him, but he wasn't surprised by that - he doubted that even the teachers had noticed his disappearance. He sighed, turning away from the window, his mind spinning with thoughts...did Miku realise that he hadn't been in school, the whole day? He found himself hoping that she had noticed.

Why? It wasn't just because of the possibility that she was the little girl he had spent his whole life searching for - something about her was just so familiar to him. Whenever he looked at her, or even thought of her name, an unfamiliar longing would flicker through him...and he wasn't sure whether he minded that longing or not. It made no sense why he would yearn for a girl whom he barely even knew...

He glanced up at the window once again. This time, he saw his reflection - chin length blond hair, brushing gently against his shoulders. Dark blue eyes, haunted and lonely - the eyes of someone searching for something unknown. Searching for someone he would never be able to find. He glanced behind his familiar reflection, knowing what he would see in the glass. It was another him. A different him.

It was a him that he didn't recognise...a happier him, a more vibrant him - a him whose eyes flickered with darkness. A bloodstained him who he found familiar, but not at the same time. This separate reflection appeared at some times, and disappeared at others. He had seen this other, unknown self several times before, ever since the age of six, and up till now he still had no idea what it indicated for him.

If he had spent his whole life looking for something he had lost...why had he lost his vibrancy? He had lost everything which made him memorable to others, but he wasn't sure exactly what it was that he had lost. He knew that whatever it was, it was gone...but he didn't know what he was supposed to call it. This thing that he had lost. It was supposed to be important - it made him seem alive.

He ran his fingers against the cool glass of the window - and he found himself hoping that he would be able to catch another glimpse of Miku. He shook himself, feeling a little irritated by his illogical yearning - she was a girl he had met only yesterday afternoon. Why was it that she affected him so? He couldn't explain to himself why he had this longing for another person...a girl who probably didn't even remember him.

He hoped that she could still recall who he was, and not forget him the way everyone else did. To be honest, he had found it a great surprise that she could recall his name, this morning - then again, she had said that he reminded her of someone else she had once known. Perhaps that was the only reason why she was capable of remembering what was his name...because he couldn't think of any other reason why.

He retreated from the window, casting Miku's house one last glance. That glance made up his mind - he wanted to talk to her, this girl who had captured his attention and wouldn't let go of it. Besides, he didn't have anything else to do at home...would Miku mind if he went over to visit her? He bit on his lip, unsure of what he ought to do...what would be considered polite and reasonable, and what was not.

I just want - no, need - to talk to her. Maybe one little visit wouldn't be too bad. It's not like she hates me or anything of that sort. Does she? I don't understand why she holds such a strong pull over me...all I know is, I can't stop thinking of her. And I really want to talk to her, about anything and everything. So long as I can hear her sweet voice saying my name.

With that, he made up his mind, slowly walking out of the room. He had never done anything like this before - he had never visited someone of his own accord. Tried to speak to someone, without them talking to him first. Much less when this person was someone he barely even knew...but Miku was different. From the moment he had first met her, he had already known she would be someone different.

She had known his name even before he had said it to her. She had talked to him this morning, had asked him whether he wanted to go to school with her. She had remembered who he was, when people usually completely forgot about his presence after the first five minutes or so. Miku Hatsune was special, and he...he needed to talk to her. Because she made him feel normal, like he wasn't...forgettable.

Why was she so different from the rest? He didn't understand why, and that puzzled him. He just had to know why she was not like other people...and why she was so special to him.


Miku heard the sounds of someone ringing the doorbell. She smiled apologetically at Len, who was scowling at the floor, clearly displeased that someone had dared to interrupt him while he was talking to her. ''I'll just go see who it is, then I'll be right back,'' she hastily assured him, noticing the way his vivid cerulean blue eyes lightened as she spoke those words.

''Be fast,'' came the soft whisper. She nodded, letting her fingers brush against his cheek. Reluctantly, he released her other hand, the one he had been holding on to all this while. Miku turned around and left her room, where she had been sitting on her bed with Len, the two of them just talking and laughing away. Luka and Gakupo were both out at work, so she had the whole house to herself, as she usually did.

She walked down the stairs, wondering who could her visitor possibly be. A schoolmate, perhaps? But she doubted that - everyone was so frightened of her that few people ever came to visit her. Whenever her classmates came over to her home, it was usually so that they could borrow notes or things like that - no one ever paid Miku Hatsune a social visit. Miku was a loner, too strange and quiet to talk to.

Musing quietly to herself, she went over to the front door, hoping that whatever it was wouldn't take too long - she still wanted to get back to Len. Twisting the door knob, the door swung open...and she blinked. ''Len?'' she asked, her voice shaky. It took her a while to realise that this was the corporeal Len, the one everyone was able to see, not the bloodstained Len who was visible to only herself.

Len was standing on her doorstep, his dark blue gaze darting to everywhere but her. ''I...I just wanted to talk to you for a while,'' came his usual halting voice. He always did speak so carefully, so hesitantly, as though he feared making any errors or slips while he talked. ''Just for a while?'' he added, this time sounding a little hopeful. It was one of the first few times she had ever heard him speak with emotion.

In fact, he was usually quite...dead, his voice as flat and unemotional as a cadaver. As lifeless as a reflection in the mirror. It was as though he was the one who did not truly live, not the Len whom she had known since young. She wondered why was that so - was it because he was no more than an empty vessel, with no soul to give him life and energy? ''Oh. Sure, why not?'' she smiled at him, letting him inside.

Len hesitated for a bit longer, seemingly unwilling to walk past the front door. Finally, with a barely audible sigh of what appeared to be relief, the blond boy entered her home, his blue eyes taking in everything. She closed the door behind him, and Len jumped a little at the 'click' sound that made. Miku hid another smile - he seemed so uncertain of everything which was happening. Much like a child, actually.

''You have a...nice home,'' he said slowly, turning around to glance shyly at her. She shrugged a little, looking around to see what he could see. It was like any other home, she supposed - they were standing in her living room, which had several armchairs and couches in it. The television was switched on, not that anyone was watching it. A steaming cup of coffee stood on the table, untouched.

''Thank you,'' she began to say, but then her voice died in her throat as she saw the other Len appear before her, his light cerulean eyes narrowed. He folded his arms across his chest, staring intently at her, before his gaze slid across to the other Len. Instantly, his blue eyes became hooded, and Miku knew that he wasn't happy. I don't want to share, she could read the expression on his face, at that very moment.

Corporeal Len was completely oblivious to the presence of a third, extremely unhappy person in the room. ''Nicer than mine. It's...warmer?'' his sentence sounded almost like a question, rather than a statement. She wondered what he meant by that - warmer in what sense? Did he mean it literally? Their air-conditioner seemed to be working perfectly fine...so in the figurative sense, perhaps. But why did he say that?

The real Len was standing next to the spirit Len, and she was struck by just how...similar the two of them appeared to be. Both had bright blond hair, twisted up into a ponytail. Both had blue eyes, but the real Len had dark blue eyes, while the spirit one had light cerulean ones. And of course, there was the matter of all the blood which covered the not corporeal one...but otherwise, they were exactly the same.

They were one and the same person, and that was something she still had yet to get used to. The fact that the person she loved...was not one, but rather half of someone. Did that mean that her own love was a half-hearted one, if she only loved half of someone? Miku glanced away from the sight of the two of them - it was like staring at a pair of twins. Two halves of the same person, one unaware of the other.

Suddenly, the other Len, the Len whom she didn't know very well, lurched back from the cabinet he had been staring at. Miku started, jerked out of her reverie - she watched the boy, his eyes widening in...shock? But what was it that he had seen that made him react that way? He looked...almost frightened. There wasn't anything scary in the cabinet, though - nothing but several framed, old photographs.

The photographs belonged to her, evidently. Not that she could recall what had happened while all those photographs had been taken. They were evidence of a past life, a life that she had no memory of - the only thing she could recall from those pictures were her parents. Luka and Gakupo had retrieved the photographs and placed them in their home, hoping that the constant sight of them would help Miku.

So far, Miku still couldn't remember anything from...before. Before the accident, before her parents' deaths, before she had first met the spirit Len, the spirit whom she had thought a hallucination. The cabinet showcased nothing but a bundle of old, forgotten memories - so why was it that Len seemed to recoil from the cabinet, as though something inside frightened him? Made him want to run away from here?

Len was reeling. Two smiling, teal haired adults, each one with one hand placed on their grinning daughter. At the beach, perhaps? There was a sandcastle behind them, maybe one the girl herself had constructed. The teal haired woman leant down to her daughter - ''I love you,'' she whispers. ''Don't ever get into danger, Miku. No matter what, we won't ever let you get hurt, my precious little girl.''

They were all so familiar...he shook his head, trying his best to get rid of the lingering memories which had appeared out of nowhere. He didn't recognise those memories - they didn't belong to him. Yet, at the same time, he felt as though he knew them from...somewhere. It was all so strange. But definitely, he recognised the little girl he had seen, and the two teal haired adults who had been in the memory.

The couple who had rescued him from the burning fire, back when he was a six-year-old. And the little girl, their daughter...the daughter who was gazing inquisitively at him, wondering what was happening. He knew now, after catching sight of those photos in the cabinet - he knew exactly who she was, and how she was related to him. Why he found her so familiar, even though he had never seen her before.

She was the girl whose parents' deaths he had caused. After years and years of looking, he had actually managed to find her...and she was still alive. She had managed to survive the fire...he wondered how she had done that. What had happened to her after he had turned and ran away? Did she recognise him from that incident, did she even remember that there had been someone else present at that death scene?

He lifted his gaze to the cabinet once more - and this time, he froze, unable to move. That secondary reflection had returned once again, watching him with piercing blue eyes which seemed to condemn him. You're wrong. Wrong. Wrong. That's what the reflection seemed to say, and Len couldn't block it out. Wrong.