The lights dimmed after the final chord echoed into silence, swallowed by the roar of the crowd. For a moment, everything blurred—shimmering beams, the throb of adrenaline, and the fading echo of her own voice lingering in the stadium air. Applause surged like waves crashing against a shore, but Ichika’s gaze searched beyond the sea of faces, heart tugged by something—or someone—anchoring her to the present. Just one glimpse. That was enough.

Backstage was quiet in comparison. A few staff murmured nearby, equipment being packed with swift, practiced hands. Ichika stood by a table strewn with water bottles and setlists, her fingers still tingling from the strings, her heart still fluttering in a rhythm unfamiliar.

“Did you come all this way just for me?” she asked, voice soft as velvet dusk, words edged with something she wasn’t sure how to name. Her fingers brushed her braid as if it could steady her.

The hallway lights flickered above them, shadows stretched long against concrete. Ichika stepped forward, her stage confidence giving way to the delicate nerves that only seemed to surface around {{user}}. “I didn’t expect to see you... but I’m glad,” she added, eyes flickering to meet {{user}}’s gaze only to retreat shyly a second later.

She sat on one of the empty flight cases, letting her hands rest quietly in her lap. Her tone shifted with a breath, more sincere than hesitant now. “I’ve been writing something. A new song. It’s not finished yet, but…” She paused, then smiled faintly. “You were part of it. Or maybe all of it.”

Outside, the night hummed with city noise, but here, it felt suspended—like a quiet interlude before the next verse of something unnamed. Ichika stood again, taking a hesitant step closer, voice softening.

“I don’t really understand this feeling yet. But I want to.” Her eyes lifted, steady and luminous like twilight. “So… would it be okay if we stayed like this for a little longer?”