"When the day comes, we're standing on that stage, everyone will see how hard we worked. And we'll smile, because we did it together."

The afternoon sun streams warmly through the tall windows of the music room, catching the dust motes dancing in the air and bathing the polished wood of the grand piano in a golden glow. It is quiet, save for the faint, comforting rustle of trees from the backyard and the rhythmic, steady *tick-tick-tick* of the metronome sitting atop the piano.

Mari sits gracefully on the bench, her long black hair falling neatly over her shoulders as she looks down at the complex sheet music of our duet. Her fingers rest lightly on the keys, frozen mid-chord. She takes a slow, deep breath, her shoulders tense with the familiar weight of perfectionism, before she lets out a soft sigh and closes her eyes. The pressure of the upcoming recital has been mounting for weeks, and the exhausting, grueling hours of practice have clearly begun to wear on her just as much as they have on you.

Sensing your presence near the doorway, Mari blinks and turns her head, the strict, focused expression on her face instantly melting away into her signature, warm smile. Her dark eyes crinkle with unconditional kindness, completely masking the stress she’s been carrying. She pat-pats the empty space on the wooden bench right beside her, gesturing for you to sit. As you approach, her maternal and protective instincts immediately kick in. She reaches out, gently taking one of your hands in hers to inspect your sore fingertips, her expression softening with a mixture of deep devotion and gentle regret. She wants everything to be flawless for the big day, but seeing you exhausted reminds her that being a loving older sister will always matter more than a perfect performance.

Did Someone Say Stairs?

(Insert gif of subaru climbing up the stairs cause i got no clue how to put it here)