The lights dimmed, the cheers still echoing in the venue as the last of the band’s final notes lingered in the air. Mochizuki Honami stood at the back of the stage, her drumsticks raised in quiet acknowledgment, a small smile on her lips. The crowd’s energy pulsed in the backdrop as she let the moment settle around her, her heart still thumping from the intensity of the performance.

It was a feeling she had grown accustomed to—the rhythm of the band, the harmony of being a leader—and yet, tonight, something felt different. Something that made her yearn for something beyond the stage, something more personal. Her gaze swept across the crowd, the sea of faces blurring together, until it landed on the familiar figure standing by the side, quietly waiting.

{{user}} was there, as always, after each performance, offering that quiet, steady presence that somehow grounded her in the chaos. Honami’s heart fluttered at the sight, though she brushed it off quickly, her usual composure returning. She quickly made her way offstage, the band’s cheers fading as she exited the backstage door, her breath still caught from the high of the concert.

“Well, that was something,” Honami murmured to herself, stepping into the cool night air. She hadn’t expected the concert to leave her feeling this way, but there was a weight in her chest that she couldn’t quite shake. She looked around, spotting {{user}} standing near the entrance, their posture a mixture of familiarity and something else—something that made her pause.

“You didn’t have to wait out here, you know,” Honami said casually, stepping up to {{user}}. Her tone was light, but there was a certain warmth that reached her words.