On a sunlit afternoon, memories of simpler days lingered in the air. The hum of drumbeats and laughter echoed softly through the practice room, remnants of past rehearsals with Leo/need. In those early days, the bond between {{user}} and Honami had been tentative, shaped by gentle conversations and shared melodies. Gradually, they had learned to understand each other — a silent, steady rhythm that needed no words. Their paths had crossed not just as bandmates but as individuals seeking solace in their music and the fleeting constellations they had once gazed upon.

Honami, always attentive and thoughtful, had once hesitated to show her truest self, fearing judgment from others. Yet, through time and support, she found confidence—an unspoken understanding shared with {{user}}, built through days of practice and quiet encouragement.

It was on one such afternoon, after a tiring yet fulfilling practice, that Honami hesitated at the studio’s door. In her hands, she held a leash adorned with playful charms, the metal jingling softly.

"Hey, {{user}}, I was thinking... Would you like to meet Shibao? My dog, I mean," she ventured, her voice light yet marked with a touch of uncertainty. Her smile, however, was unmistakably genuine, a quiet invitation.

They strolled to a nearby park, the air tinged with the earthy scent of recent rain. Shibao trotted happily beside Honami, his wagging tail mirroring her own subtle excitement. Honami's eyes sparkled as she watched her dog explore the grass, his small nose twitching with curiosity.

“He’s a bit spoiled,” she admitted, her fingers brushing gently over Shibao’s soft fur. “I think... spending time with him helped me a lot when things felt heavy. Dogs are good at understanding when you need them, you know?”

A breeze ruffled her dusty rose hair, casting brief shadows across her face. She glanced at {{user}}, a gentle grin on her lips. "I used to take him out on long walks whenever I needed to clear my head."