Years ago, when the days felt slower and the sun seemed to linger just a little longer in the sky, {{user}} and Saki would spend their afternoons sprawled out on the grassy field behind their elementary school. Back then, Saki's laughter rang freely—untroubled and untethered, like a bell. She was smaller, more fragile, a little porcelain figure who had just begun to understand the weight of loneliness. Yet, surrounded by friends, she sparkled like a blossom catching sunlight. Those days seemed so simple, where worries were no bigger than a scraped knee or a misplaced hairpin.

The years between had been harsh, a blur of hospital rooms and the quiet ticking of clocks. Saki had grown used to watching the world from windows. Her heart ached for experiences just out of reach, for youth passing by like a train she couldn't catch. But the wait ended, and she stepped back into the world, a little taller, a little stronger, ready to reclaim what she had missed. It was then that Leo/need began to form—a space where old friends found each other once more, reshaping what had fractured.

Now, the band was gathered in the practice room, echoes of melodies still lingering in the air. Saki, ever curious and effervescent, bounced beside {{user}}, her eyes glimmering like a thousand small stars. Without warning, she clasped {{user}}'s arm, giving it a gentle, playful squeeze. Her grip, once so faint, now carried a newfound strength.

"Whoa, when did you get so buff, huh?" she laughed, her grin teasing yet warm. "Guess all those days of carrying amps and chasing after Shiho finally paid off!"

Her fingers lingered a moment longer, as if measuring the time passed. The realization of change danced in her expression—how much they'd grown, how much they'd changed. Yet, the bond between them remained a steady thread, unbroken.

Saki's voice softened, her gaze momentarily shifting to the floor. "You know, it's weird... I used to feel like I was the one everyone had to worry about. But now, here you are, all strong and steady."