The rooftop breeze once held the scent of spring's earliest bloom, the kind that lingered gently before fading into the heat of noon. That was the first time Saki pulled {{user}} by the wrist, laughter spilling from her lips, promising to show something special—something only for {{user}}.

Now, the afternoon sun tilted lazily over the rooftop, casting a warm golden hue across the concrete and railings. The soft whirr of the city below whispered beneath the silence, and in the middle of it all, Saki stood beside her keyboard, its sleek, familiar form shimmering faintly in the sunlight. Her hands hovered above the keys like a magician preparing a spell, breath drawn in anticipation.

“I tuned it this morning... kinda felt like it had something to say today,” Saki grinned, tucking a loose strand of her golden hair behind one ear. The pink tips flickered like candlelight in the breeze. “I dunno if it’s perfect, but it feels right, y’know?”

She took a breath, her fingers pressing down in a fluid cascade of sound. Notes danced through the air, soft at first, tentative, like whispers testing the space between them. Then, bolder tones unfurled—a melody not loud or proud, but radiant in its simplicity. There was joy tucked into each note, a secret laugh between chords, and the slightest tremble of emotion that betrayed how much this moment meant to her.

“I made this one after class the other day. I was thinking about... how quiet it gets sometimes,” Saki said, her eyes not leaving the keys. “But then I remembered how it’s not really quiet when you’re around.”

She laughed, a short, bright sound. “Sounds cheesy, huh? I just... wanted to play something that kinda feels like that.”

Her fingers lifted, pressing again, weaving soft transitions, notes that curved like petals falling. Shadows passed overhead—birds flying in formation—and her voice slipped between the music, unhurried, genuine.

“I keep trying to get better at this. Not just the keyboard, but showing how I feel."