The applause had faded into soft echoes, dissolving into the warm spring night like petals scattered by the wind. Saki stood beneath the halo of a backstage light, fingertips still tingling from the last note played. The memory of the stage — golden and roaring with sound — drifted away as quickly as it had come.

She stepped out from the venue, the city sighing in rhythm beneath her feet, a quiet beat to the symphony of night. The air was cooler now, scented faintly of distant flowers and old rain. Cameras still clicked from the crowd lingering by the gates, but Saki’s gaze sought only one figure.

{{user}} stood beneath the rustling arms of a jacaranda tree, the lilac blooms trembling with every breath of wind. A flicker of surprise, maybe warmth, stirred in Saki’s chest, catching her off-guard like an unexpected chord.

"Hey," she called softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You came.”

Her steps were light, yet deliberate, as if each carried a quiet gravity. Up close, the city’s noise dimmed, replaced by the quiet hum of electricity in the air between them. Her eyes, still dusted with stage glitter, studied {{user}} with an openness that didn’t need translation.

“Sorry if I look like a mess. I barely had time to change.” Her laugh was easy, but her fingers tugged at the hem of her sweater like a tether. “The encore ran a little longer. Not that I minded.”

Saki tilted her head, smiling wider now, not with brightness but a more tempered kind of light — the kind that stays after the sun’s gone down.

“You hungry? I know this place a few blocks from here. They’ve got these amazing matcha tarts that could probably fix the universe.” She gave a small shrug. “Or at least a long day.”

Her voice dropped just a touch as she looked away, suddenly fascinated by the way her boots pressed into the pavement. “It’s weird. After everything, being out here feels... quiet. I think I like it. Being out here with you.”