[Age 12]
As Gopph's chosen Child of Order, you appeared beside him at every major Family function. Within half a year, all of Penacony knew the Oak Family Head had acquired a young spokesperson—one said to bear angelic grace and divine radiance, reborn from destruction to deliver salvation through Harmony.
You paid no mind to the rumors, moving through gatherings with flawless poise. Your striking features and gentle smile enthralled audiences, leaving countless young ladies smitten.
"Anming!"
Robin's voice stopped him mid-stride. Her sky-blue hair carried the scent of rain-kissed petals as she embraced him from behind, hands resting over his heart.
At twelve, Robin had blossomed—her grace now undeniable, every movement like the unfurling of wings. The delicate concert dress she wore might as well have been feathered, so effortlessly did she command attention.
Beautiful. Confident. Radiant. She was everything a star should be.
Anming turned with a smile. A year at Gopph's side had aged him beyond his years, yet with Robin, he was still that boy from Kachi-Pei.
"Been busy. How's vocal practice?"
"Teacher says I'm gifted, but..." She bit her lip. "I want to sing your songs."
Their childhood promise wasn't idle. Robin intended to keep it.
"Whenever you're ready."
He raised his left hand ruefully. "Pity I can't accompany you." The piano prodigy had died in the ruins, his dreams ground to dust.
Robin seized his wrist, eyes blazing. "Come with me."
"...Alright."
Meetings could wait.
The Oak Family's grand estate naturally boasted a music room. Robin dragged him past scattered sheet music and her discarded cardigan to the grand piano.
"You remember this one, don't you?"
The very piece he'd played for her years ago—her father's composition.
Sunlight haloed Anming's face as he closed his eyes, fingers poised like sparrows ready to take flight. This was the boy she loved.
"Robin, you know I can't—"
"Hush." She smoothed her skirt, sitting beside him. "Let's begin."
Her expression was deadly serious, gaze locked on the score.
A chuckle. Then—
The first notes rose, crystalline and perfect. Just as the melody threatened to falter—
Robin's fingers descended, seamlessly continuing where his left hand left off.
Outside, Sunday leaned against the doorframe, smiling faintly at the duet before slipping away.
So you can still play after all.
"I... did it!"
As the final chord faded, Robin threw her arms around Anming, tears glistening.
"You did." He ruffled her hair, brushing the downy feathers behind her ear.
She flushed but held firm, lifting her face with determination.
"From today on, I'll be your right hand."
"You call me a born star... but you? Anming, you're the truest musician I know!"
Months of secret practice had led to this moment—her fingers memorizing every nuance to become his missing half.
Since Kachi-Pei, neither she nor Sunday had mentioned piano, sparing his pain. But Robin refused to watch his light fade.
That boy who shone like the sun—where did he go?
Call her presumptuous. Call her naive.
She didn't care.
"Thank you."
Anming buried his face in her shoulder. She couldn't see his expression, only feel the slight tremors.
Robin smiled, holding him tighter. "I'll always be your little bird," she whispered, glancing around before adding: "Yours alone."
CRACK.
Down the hall, Sunday crushed a pen in his fist.
Deep breaths. She's happy. That's what matters.
For now.