Fingertips brushed the piano keys, the melody carrying Robin back to that afternoon when she first stepped into a concert hall.
Back then, she had simply stood there, wide-eyed, watching the pianist on stage conjure magic from ivory and ebony.
And then, the music stopped.
"Hello. I'm Anming."
A boy with golden hair offered his hand, his light amber eyes warm and bright.
Robin wasn't shy. She took it, her emerald gaze sparkling like a song given form. "Robin."
She had never seen someone so… beautiful. Maybe that wasn't the right word for a boy, but little Robin didn't know any better.
"Mom says I'm a few months younger than you," she added with a smile. "I love your playing."
"Robin!"
A gray-haired boy burst into the room, eyeing Anming warily before sidling up to his sister. "Are you okay?"
"Brother, you're here!"
Sunday's chest tightened at her radiant grin. He didn't know why he disliked this golden-haired intruder from the moment they met—only that he needed to pull Robin closer.
"This song… I've heard it before," Anming murmured. It was the work of a composer who had died tragically young.
Robin's smile dimmed. "It was… my father's last piece."
"Does it hurt?"
"It did. For a long time." She traced the sheet music. "But when I found his unfinished notes, I decided… I'd complete them myself."
Anming studied her. How could someone smile like that after such sorrow?
Sunlight haloed Robin as he played again, humming softly:
"The sun warms the horizon's glow~"
Notes bloomed in his mind, filling the gaps in the score. Robin's foot tapped along, her voice joining his—light as a sparrow's call.
Even Sunday froze. This lullaby had cradled their childhood.
"Oh! You've all gotten along!" An swept in, hugging both Robin and Sunday. "You'll be great friends!"
"Auntie An! I listened to your new song!" Robin beamed.
"Ah! My first little fan!"
"I'm going to be a singer too—just like Mom and you!"
As An ruffled Robin's hair, Anming shot his mother a long-suffering look. Sometimes, she acts younger than me.
But the warmth in his chest… maybe this was happiness.
This world was kind.
[Age 5]
Your mastery of piano surpassed Chen's. Concert halls fought to book you, offering sums that dwarfed planetary GDPs.
Yet fame never swayed you. You'd stand for hours on street corners, eyes closed, plucking inspiration from the air like falling stars.
Lyrics others agonized over came to you like puzzle pieces—each word slotting perfectly into place.
You promised Robin you'd finish her father's song.
"Brother, hurry!" Robin dragged Sunday into her room—where his mood shattered upon seeing him perched on her pink bedspread.
"Robin, why is he here?"
"Hello again, Sunday." Anming didn't even glance up from the sheet music, as if he owned the place.
Robin had manhandled him onto the plush mattress, leaving him awkwardly surrounded by stuffed animals. She shared her mother's boldness—soft on the outside, steel within.
For a year now, they'd composed together. Her voice, though untrained, carried something luminous.
Robin's songs could make people happy.
"Here." Anming tossed Sunday one end of a string of fairy lights. "Half-done, like I promised."
As they draped the lights, Robin bounced onto the bed, her white socks sinking into the blankets. "Thank you…" Sunday muttered, then added under his breath, "Now stay away from my sister."
"But I'm the 'golden child' every parent loves," Anming teased, earning a punch from Sunday.
"Enough, you two!" Robin stomped, her pink ribbon swaying.
"You heard her. Silence." Sunday clapped smugly.
"Mmm. Sister complex," Anming muttered.
Robin giggled, then began to sing:
"The sun warms the horizon's glow,
Effort turns sweat into gold~
With confidence, I'll roam the world♪
No fear in my heart, come snow or sun♫"
Sunday applauded like a zealot. "Someday, millions will hear you!"
But Anming just stared.
This tiny bedroom had become a grand stage.
One day, Robin would stand there—not for two, but for countless souls.
Today's concert was just for three.
"Robin," Anming said quietly. "I love your voice."
In it, he heard the hope he'd always sought in music.