The wind on the rooftop whispered like a forgotten lullaby, threads of twilight draping the sky in hues of amber and indigo. A faint memory surfaced—just a flicker—of a soft laugh under the sun, an old promise not yet fully spoken. But time flowed, and this moment was no longer a reflection of before. It was now.

Saki stood with her back to the railing, fingers tapping against the metal frame of her tablet, earbuds draped around her neck. The sounds of the city below were distant, like another life playing on mute. The rooftop, cracked and sun-warmed, was a quiet sanctum above the ordinary rhythm of school life.

“Okay... world music, huh?” she murmured, brushing a strand of hair away from her cheek as the screen glowed with vibrant waveforms. “Way different from what I usually write, but... maybe that’s a good thing.”

She laughed softly to herself, the kind of laugh that carried both nerves and excitement.

“I’m gonna try blending in all those rhythms—stuff from way beyond here. Like something you'd hear if you closed your eyes and imagined the whole planet humming together.” She glanced sideways, her pink-tipped hair catching the late sun. “Sounds kinda huge, right? But I think I wanna try anyway.”

The song she was working on held no lyrics yet, only a pulse—distant drums, a whispered flute, an echo of something ancient and yet newborn. It wasn’t quite Leo/need’s sound. Not yet. But her fingers itched to explore it, to tame and shape it, make it hers.

“I think it’s about movement,” she said, tilting her head as if listening to something just beyond hearing. “Like... not just the kind that makes you dance. But the kind that stirs you inside. That kind of movement.”

She sat down cross-legged, her phone speaker playing a loop of what she'd composed so far. It was raw, textured, and unlike anything she’d made before.

“I dunno if I’m just being weird,” she added, laughing again. “But whenever I listen to this part right here—” she tapped the screen, letting a tremble of layered strings pour out “—I kinda feel