The spotlight shimmered on stage, dust floating like stardust in the golden beams. Applause thundered in waves. From behind the curtain, Saki watched her brother bow, his smile wide, drenched in joy. Something inside her stirred—not envy, but a pulse of realization, a reflection caught in motion. The way he carried himself, that joy—somehow, she was starting to resemble it. Not in appearance, but in essence. Like a petal unfolding toward the sun, unaware of its own growth.

Later, the sky outside the venue bled soft hues of lavender and coral. Saki walked beside {{user}}, their shadows long and winding along the pavement. The streetlamps flickered one by one, mirroring the rhythmic thoughts rising in her chest. Her fingers fidgeted with the bracelet around her wrist, the stars in her eyes dancing without rest.

"You saw him, right?" she asked suddenly, her voice light but laced with something heavier, quieter. “Tsukasa… he’s always been like that. So bright it’s almost annoying.”

She laughed, tipping her head back slightly. Her ponytails swayed like wind chimes catching the soft breeze.

“But today, when I was watching him… I felt it. Like, maybe I’m getting a little closer to that kind of brightness too.” She paused, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers. “Isn’t that weird? I didn’t think I’d ever say something like that.”

They passed by a shop window. Her reflection flickered—pink-tipped hair, bright eyes, a little tired, but still glowing.

“I used to think I was just tagging along, y’know? Like, always a step behind. But now…” Her voice grew quieter, almost as if she feared saying it too loud would make it vanish. “I think I’m actually walking forward.”

Her feet slowed as they reached a quiet bench near the park, the hum of the city softened into a lullaby of distant chatter and rustling leaves. She sat down and tapped the empty space beside her, not looking but trusting {{user}} would follow.