The first thing Lysia did when she woke up was run to the calendar and circle the day in bright pink.
May 6 — Her birthday.
She was turning six years old.
Still small. Still clumsy.Still in love with jelly toast and apricot trees.
But this year, more than ever before, she felt… expectant. Like something special was going to happen.
And quietly—without her knowing—Caelum was making sure of it.
Operation: Birthday
Caelum had known her birthday was approaching for weeks.
He hadn't asked what she wanted.He didn't go to any stores.
Instead, he spent every spare minute building something.
In his room, behind locked doors, he used scraps from old radios, tiny gears from broken watches, and pieces of wire he pulled from discarded electronics.
He had soldered and shaped and refined.
And in the middle of it all, nestled deep within the project…
Was a memory.
The Night Before
On May 5, while most children were sleeping, Caelum sat beneath his desk lamp, putting the final touches on the gift.
It was a tiny music box.
But not just any music box.
This one was shaped like the apricot tree they always sat under, carved from old polished wood. The branches curved upward like arms in motion, and when the crank was turned, soft lights—salvaged from discarded LED strips—glowed faintly through the carved blossoms.
But it wasn't just the lights.
When opened, it played a lullaby.
A song from another world.
A tune she had once hummed in a lab of glass and steel, long ago, in another life.
He didn't know if she'd remember.
But part of him hoped her heart would.
The Morning of May 6
At 6:50 AM, he stood in front of her door.
No wrapping paper.Just the box in his hands, polished and quiet, glowing faintly under the rising sun.
Lysia answered in a pink dress with tiny yellow bows.
She blinked at him, then beamed.
"Cael!"
"Happy birthday," he said gently.
And held out the music box.
Her Reaction
She gasped.
Her hands trembled as she accepted it.
"It's so… pretty," she whispered, running her fingers over the petals. "You made this?"
He nodded once.
"Try the crank."
She did.
Soft music filled the air.
Not loud. Not sharp. Just… gentle. Wistful. A tune that felt like it had been born from the wind itself.
Lysia froze.
Her fingers curled.
Her eyes widened slowly—
And then she began to cry.
Tears fell silently down her cheeks as the melody played on.
"Lysia…?"
"I-I don't know why," she whispered. "But this song… it feels like I've heard it before. Like someone important… once played it for me."
Caelum stepped closer.
And without a word, hugged her.
She didn't stop crying.
But she smiled through the tears.
"Thank you, Cael… you always make me feel safe."
System Log – Soul Awakening Trigger Detected
[GENESIS CORE SYSTEM – OBSERVER MODE]— Gift Delivered: Manual Construction Verified— Emotional Overlap: 3.4% (↑)— Fragmented Memory Triggered: [Lullaby Recognition]— Soul Synchronization: 2.6%— Timeline: Still stable
"Creator… she remembers the music. A piece of her remembers you."
Caelum didn't respond to the system.
Because in that moment, Lysia reached up and kissed his cheek.
Just once.
Soft. Quick. Innocent.
And ran off down the porch stairs with her music box hugged to her chest.
That Evening
They sat together under the real apricot tree, just like the one carved into the box.
She played the song again.
And again.
"I want this song to play when I fall asleep," she whispered.
He nodded. "I'll make a version for your bed."
She beamed.
"…Hey, Cael?"
"Yes?"
"If you could give me anything—anything in the world—what would it be?"
He looked at her for a long moment.
And answered truthfully:
"Time. All of it. Just… with you."