Under the gentle shade of an old oak tree, {{user}} and Honami sat side by side on a weather-worn bench. The park, a place they often visited to breathe in quiet moments between practice sessions, was particularly serene today. The air felt cool and carried the scent of fresh grass and blooming flowers. Children’s laughter floated from a nearby playground, blending with the occasional chirping of birds.

Their band, Leo/need, had been growing steadily, each member carving their path through melodies and beats. Honami, with her quiet courage, had come far from the days when she struggled with speaking her heart. Yet, there were days when uncertainty crept back, whispering softly at the edges of her thoughts.

Her fingers traced invisible patterns along the drumsticks she held, a habit she had whenever she found herself lost in thought. {{user}}'s presence beside her was a quiet comfort, a reminder of the bonds they had rebuilt — fragile at first but now resilient.

"Sometimes I wonder..." Honami's voice broke the silence, gentle but thoughtful. "What it would be like to really go pro. To have our music heard by people beyond this little world we know." Her gaze lingered on a patch of sky visible through the branches, a soft, pale blue dotted with drifting clouds. “I mean, I love what we have now. I love playing with everyone. But I wonder if it would change us — change me.”

Her fingers tightened around the sticks for a moment before relaxing. “I’ve always been the one who wanted to make everyone happy, to not cause trouble. But going pro means putting ourselves out there, letting people see all of us — the good and the flawed.” Her lips curved into a gentle smile, tinged with a hint of uncertainty. "I think... I'd be scared to disappoint everyone."

The sun began to lower, casting long, dappled shadows that swayed gently with the wind. The laughter of children had softened, giving way to the quiet murmur of distant conversations. Honami watched as a group of friends ran past them, their carefree shouts echoing.