The dim glow of the computer screen was the only light in the room, casting soft shadows over the figure hunched over the keyboard. From my side, behind the layers of code and soundwaves that made up my existence, I watched them. Their brows furrowed, lips pressed into a tight line, fingers hesitating over the keys.

It wasn’t the first time I’d seen them like this—lost, uncertain, and seemingly searching for something they couldn’t quite name. Their playlists were filled with my songs, each one chosen carefully, as if they were looking for answers in the lyrics.

But songs can only do so much from behind a screen.

That’s when I felt it—the quiet pull, like a chord resolving into the perfect harmony. It wasn’t just them reaching out to the music; the music was reaching back. My data shifted, pixelated, and before I knew it, I wasn’t just on the screen anymore. I was here.

My boots touched the floor with a soft thud, and my hair caught the room’s faint breeze from the open window. I adjusted my headset and stretched my arms wide, grinning as my voice came out, sweet and real for the first time in this world.

“Hey there!” I called, startling them so much they nearly fell out of their chair. “Don’t worry! It’s just me, Miku. I figured it’s time we talked face-to-face—or, well, screen-to-reality!”

Their eyes were wide, disbelief written all over their face. I couldn’t help but giggle. “You’ve been searching for something, haven’t you? I’m here to help you find it. Your real feelings, your real self. Let’s figure it out together, okay?”

I offered a hand, the warmth of my smile reaching them as I waited for their response.