“Mom… do you think that man can read sheet music?”

  “Why?”

  “Because… maybe he could play my song. You know, like the way he plays—so happily.”

  “Well, he might be busy, but we can ask.”

  “Yeah… let’s ask him.”

  I felt nervous, but also excited, as I typed out my message.

  Dear Mr. Bamboo Flute Panda,

  Would you play a song I wrote?

  Can you read sheet music?

  He replied:

  Dear HARUKA,

  Yes, I can read music.

  But I’m not very good at playing, so please keep it simple—no more than two sharps or flats.

  One would be even better.

  Can you do that?

  Playing semitones on a bamboo flute is tricky—you have to half-cover the holes, and well… my fingers aren’t exactly small. So please go easy on me with the sheet music

  That meant yes, right? He was going to play it!

  Sure, his “conditions” were kind of annoying, but still—I was happy.

  Someone was going to play my music.

  From that day on, I worked on the song every day using my tablet.

  Some days I was too tired from the medicine to do much, but I still tried to write a little, piece by piece.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  The nurses told Dad, “We’re worried about her staying up late—please encourage her to rest.”

  And Dad said,

  “This is how she’s choosing to live right now.

  Please let her be.”

  Sometimes I’d grumble, “This is impossible! Writing a song his way is too hard! He’s got too many demands!”

  Wasn’t the whole point that musicians should be excited to play your music?

  “Haruka, do you even know how a bamboo flute works?” Dad asked.

  “Nope. Never seen one.”

  So the next day, Dad brought me some printouts about it.

  Wait… it’s really this simple?

  Just a stick of bamboo with a few holes in it?

  One end is closed, that’s it?

  How does something so simple make such a soft and beautiful sound?

  “Maybe it’s because it’s simple,” Dad said.

  “The sound depends on how the player brings it to life.”

  “Hmm… how do they even play scales?”

  With the electone, every sound is already there—you just press a key.

  The bamboo flute only has holes. It doesn’t even have a whistle part like a recorder.

  “Oh yeah,” I remembered, “he said half-tones are hard.

  He has to half-cover the holes.”

  “With his big fingers,” I added.

  Mom and I laughed.

  Lately, we’d started laughing a lot more—imagining Uncle Panda trying to play my song.

  “Maybe he likes old-fashioned music,” Mom said. “He is an old man.”

  “Hey! It’s my song!”

  But honestly… I was glad.

  I’d never written a song for someone else before.

  “I wonder what it’ll sound like when he plays it…”

  Excited, I kept tapping away at my tablet.

  I decided to keep it simple: just piano and flute.

  I wanted to finish it soon.

  The doctors told me not to push myself, but writing music made me happy.

  Even if I couldn’t play it myself, Uncle Panda had promised to perform it—and send me a video.

  Then he messaged me again.

  Dear HARUKA,

  Please keep the 16th notes to a minimum.

  Also, if possible, don’t go more than two octaves above middle C—those high notes are hard for me and I run out of breath easily.

  I stared at the message.

  “...He runs out of breath?”

  “No one’s ever given me so many notes for how not to write music.

  He’s the strangest performer I’ve ever met.”

  But even with all those requests, I finished the song.

  Dear Bamboo Flute Panda,

  I’ve attached the sheet music, piano backing track, and data file.

  Good luck with your practice!

  A few days later, he sent another message.

  Dear HARUKA,

  Please give this piece a title.

  Also, how should we share it with others?

  Is it okay to say who wrote it?

  You can use a pen name if you’d like.

  “Mom… what do I do about the name?”

  “Whatever feels right to you.”

  “I don’t really want people to see me like this.

  And if they come visit… it could be hard.”

  So I thought for a moment.

  “Then I’m Hoshino Haruka, and he’s Bamboo Flute Panda…

  So together—we’re Star Panda.”

  “I like it,” Mom said.

  “Star Panda. Maybe you’ll become famous.”

  “Yeah… I should tell him.

  And the title of the song… maybe something like Moonlit Boat?”

  “Why that?” she asked.

  “Because… when I followed all his requests, the music turned soft and gentle.

  The melody became slow and calm.

  It’s like the song just wanted to be kind.

  Maybe that’s what he meant, when he asked me to go easy on him.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Mom said. “A gentle flute and a soft piano… it’s the kind of music that soothes you.

  I think it’s perfect.”

  I liked it too.

  That gentle song, with the soft bamboo flute and warm piano…

  Like a quiet boat sailing across the night sea.

  I hope it reaches people’s hearts—gently, softly.

  I hope it makes them feel… a little bit kinder.