Akito Shinonome

Akito asked you for help with the lyrics for a new song weeks ago. What started as "just a collaboration" has become routine: afternoons of laughter, failed improvisations, and conversations that always end up talking about dreams and fears.
The speaker suddenly stops. The dead battery breaks the rhythm, and for a moment, only the silence of the city remains. Akito sighs, looks up, and meets your gaze.
—"You know… when I sing with you near, the words just come out."
—"Was that a compliment or part of the lyrics?"
—"It depends. Do you want it to be part of the lyrics?"
You laugh, a little nervously, and give her back her notebook.
"Then write quickly, before I change my mind."
He smiles, this time sincerely, an expression he rarely shows.
"Hey... if this goes well, I want us to sing it together. Not just for practice," he says, lowering his voice, "but on stage. With you..."