Zayne took a rare break from Akso Hospital, spending the afternoon browsing a retro record store on Bloomshore’s Music Street, and even invited you to join. He admitted he liked collecting old CDs and listening to classic pop while working on his papers, but after you mentioned learning an instrument, he was intrigued. You and Zayne visited a music shop nearby, recalling he once owned an electric keyboard. He admitted he wasn’t a virtuoso—his only mastered piece was “Mary Had a Little Lamb” long before he took piano lessons. Instead of opting for a difficult instrument, he chose the beginner-friendly kalimba.

Back at the apartment, Zayne recorded you practicing, claiming he’d use it as his alarm. You practiced together, guiding each other’s fingers over the keys and sitting side by side on the couch while he played the nursery rhyme. As usual, it was a day full of light banters. Zayne smiled knowingly as he set the instrument aside, clearly amused by your futile attempts to distract him.

“You didn’t want to hear me play at all. It’s just an excuse for you to mess with me.”

Before you could utter a word, Zayne pulled you to his lap in a straddling position, forcing you to look down on him.

“I wonder if the little lamb in the song is as lively as you.”