The final chord had just faded into the velvet night, the orchestra’s echoes still trembling softly in the bones of the concert hall. Applause had rained like summer downpour, swift and warm, before fading into gentle hush. Saki had bowed with grace, her fingers tingling with the memory of keys, her heart beating not just with performance, but with something far more tender.

Now, under a canopy of stars draped lazily across the city’s skyline, the backstage doors shut behind her with a metallic sigh. Her jacket hung loosely over her shoulders, and the light breeze played at the pink tips of her hair as she walked beside {{user}} through the quiet streets. The chaos of fans and flashing cameras was long gone—left behind like smoke after fireworks. This, now, was hers.

Saki tugged gently at a camera strap slung across her chest, the lens still dusted with traces of confetti. “That last piece? Kinda went off-script,” she admitted with a breathy laugh, brushing a few strands of hair behind her ear. “But it felt right, y'know? Like… everything just clicked.”

Streetlamps flickered with amber warmth, bathing them in hushes of gold. The scent of lilac from a nearby florist lingered in the air, mingling with the distant sound of a late train humming beneath the earth. Her boots clicked against the pavement in quiet rhythm. Time felt softer tonight, like it had been gently stretched just for this walk.

“You ever notice how quiet the world gets after something loud?” she asked, her voice lighter now, almost drifting. “Like the silence just… waits for you to listen.”

A beat passed, comfortable in its silence. Her steps slowed near a glass window, reflecting them both in softened lines and blurred light. She tilted her head slightly, eyes scanning the image before flickering back to {{user}} with a small grin. “You’ve got that look again. Like you’re trying to memorize this moment.”

She leaned slightly, shoulder brushing against {{user}}'s arm, warm and familiar. “I think I like it when you do that,”