The staff break room smelled faintly of coffee grounds and lemon soap. Luna sat on the old wooden bench by the back door, Mikan curled beside her like a guardian shadow.
The muffled chatter from the café drifted in through the walls, and faintly, just faintly, so did the sound of her own voice singing under the alias Velvet Echo.
She rubbed her temples, exhaling slowly.
Her fingers itched with restlessness, and after checking the time, she unlocked her phone and tapped the familiar ghost-icon app.
Velvet Echo - Dashboard
And her jaw tensed as the screen loaded.
The original karaoke snippet—the one the server uploaded—was now at 3.7 million views.
Her newest indie cover? 1.4 million plays.
The gentle jazz ballad she'd edited and uploaded anonymously yesterday? Already trending on five different platforms, reposted by music blogs and cover-song curators.
Her profile was flooded with comments, requests, and fan edits using her voice.
"Velvet Echo's voice feels like rain in summer."
"Who is this?? I need to know."
"This voice healed my breakup."
"Marry me, Velvet Echo."
"It's like this person is singing directly to me."
Luna blinked. A strange mix of awe and dread churned in her chest.
"This is insane..." she whispered to herself, scrolling through the chaos with glazed eyes. "It's an impromptu song I sang on a whim."
She closed the app and set the phone down on the bench beside her, looking up at the sliver of blue sky through the cracked door. The cats back inside probably already forgot about her.
She hugged her knees for a second, rested her chin on them.
"Okay. That's enough," she murmured. "One time singing anonymously, secretly, in peace. And now the universe is laughing."
She picked her phone back up and hovered over the app.
"Time to stop before it gets any trickier. Before it gets… messy."
With a resigned sigh, she set her Velvet Echo account to private and disabled new uploads. Her finger paused over the delete button—but she didn't press it.
Instead, she slipped the phone into her pocket, stood up, brushed off imaginary dust, and gave Mikan a little scratch behind the ears.
"No more spotlight. Not for me. I'll stick to cats and coffee."
But as she walked back to the front of the café, neither she nor Mikan noticed the figure leaning idly against the alley fence near the back door, sipping a canned drink.
Leroy.
His eyes were thoughtful. His phone screen showed the Velvet Echo profile. A soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
The soft bell above the café door jingled, followed by the unmistakable click of sensible heels and the rustle of silk. Luna looked up from the pastry display and beamed.
"Madam Mu," she greeted warmly, wiping her hands on her apron. "You're looking sharp as always."
Madam Mu waved her delicate hand, adorned in jade rings, and gave Luna a pleased little smile. "And you still flatter with that quick tongue, my dear."
Baozi immediately trotted over, practically teleporting onto Madam Mu's lap the moment she sat down. He circled once, settled, and began to purr like a motorboat.
"A loyal gentleman, as always," Madam Mu murmured, scratching under Baozi's chin.
Across the room, a college student hunched over a laptop with noise-cancelling headphones around his neck. The faint strains of a haunting melody drifted from his open speakers—Velvet Echo's latest ballad, the jazzy reimagining of a forgotten indie tune.
Madam Mu's ears, sharper than one would expect from her age, twitched.
She turned slightly toward the boy and said, "Young man, what is that song?"
The student blinked, startled, and paused the track.
"Oh! Sorry, was it too loud?"
"No, no. The opposite," Madam Mu said, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "It caught my soul in its sleeve. Who's the artist?"
"That's Velvet Echo," the student answered eagerly. "No one knows who they are exactly—some say it's AI-processed, others think it's just heavy vocal tuning, but I swear it's a real person. Their voice? Like a warm bath at the end of the day, washing all fatigue away."
Luna, now refilling the tea dispenser behind the counter, gave no outward sign she was listening—but her ears burned.
"And what is that particular song?" Madam Mu asked, tilting her head, jade earrings glinting in the warm lights.
"It's called Stars Remind Me of a Home Long Forgotten, I think. Kinda melancholic, but hopeful."
Madam Mu smiled faintly, eyes distant. "Beautiful, yes. But I wonder—would Velvet Echo's voice suit a ballad from my hometown better?"
The college student blinked. "Hometown ballad?"
"From the Southeast Province," Madam Mu said, her voice suddenly low and wistful. "Old music… sung by dusk under bamboo trees and paper lanterns. There's one piece—it's called 'Returning Crane.' I haven't heard it in years. But with that voice? It would haunt the heart."
Luna, still behind the counter, let her lips curl into a crooked, half-wistful smile as she quietly placed down the tea jar. Her hands trembled slightly before she clenched them.
Madam Mu glanced subtly toward the counter.
"I do wonder if Velvet Echo might take requests," she mused aloud, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "A ballad like that… perhaps it might even soothe this old lady's bones a little longer."
Luna cleared her throat and spoke with practiced calm. "Sounds like a really lovely song, Madam Mu. You should write it down before it fades from memory."
"Oh?" Madam Mu looked amused. "Do you collect song suggestions, Miss Luna?"
Luna only shrugged, smiling. "Sometimes."
Madam Mu chuckled. Baozi snored gently.
And at the back corner of the café, Ken whispered to Leroy—who had just come back from the alley, his expression unreadable.
"You ever get the feeling Madam Mu knows more than she lets on?"
Leroy didn't reply. He was staring at Luna with a look of quiet recognition.
Then he murmured, "I think so too."
The café had just quieted from the lunch rush, the clink of teacups replaced by soft feline snores and the hum of the ceiling fan. Luna sat beside Madam Mu, a steaming cup of chrysanthemum tea between them, and leaned in a little closer.
"Madam Mu," Luna said with an almost conspiratorial whisper, "would you… sing Returning Crane for me?"
Madam Mu paused mid-sip. Her eyes, sharp as always, narrowed with curiosity. "That old thing? Hm. Why?"
"I want to hear how it sounds from someone who still remembers it," Luna said. "And maybe… record it? Only if you allow it."
Madam Mu's lips curled into a knowing smile, her gaze falling to the sleek phone Luna had discreetly placed on the table, already recording in standby.
"Hmph. Always scheming, this little cat." She tapped Baozi's head affectionately, then nodded. "Very well. Only because I like the cut of your trickery."
And so, Madam Mu sang.
Her voice was not young—but it was filled with decades of memory and emotion. Returning Crane fluttered through the café like a long-forgotten breeze, gentle and tinged with nostalgia. The cats paused. So did Ken, wiping down a table mid-motion. Even the student in the corner stopped typing.
When the song ended, silence lingered like the last note still hovered in the air.
Luna whispered, "Thank you."
Then, with Madam Mu's indulgent nod, Luna got to work. She clipped the recording, added a simple text post:
"This is Madam Mu, singing a lullaby from her hometown. She says it would suit Velvet Echo's voice perfectly. Help us get this song to them—let's see if Velvet Echo will sing Returning Crane. #VelvetEcho #ReturningCrane #SongOfHome"
She hit post.
Madam Mu raised one elegant eyebrow. "You didn't even try to be subtle, child."
Luna grinned. "Why be subtle when you can be effective?"
"Cunning brat," Madam Mu muttered, sipping her tea. "I'm proud."
At the counter, Ken wiped an invisible stain on a cup. "Hey, Luna. If we're requesting hometown songs, then I want Forests and Farms—the harvest song from my grandmother's village. I bet Velvet Echo would kill it."
Luna poked him in the ribs with a spoon. "Sing it yourself, Ken."
Ken scoffed. "I'm no singer. You know that."
Luna turned slowly toward the nearby booth. "Leroy," she called sweetly.
Leroy, arms crossed and eyes half-lidded from his break, raised a brow. "Mm?"
"You sing. Right?" Luna smirked. "Would you sing Forests and Farms for us so Ken gets his wish too?"
Ken looked horrified. "No, wait, I didn't—"
Leroy chuckled, deep and low. "Why not? If it's for a good cause." He stood, walking up with a casual grace that always seemed a little too polished for a mere café worker.
Luna blinked. "Wait… you're actually doing it?"
He smiled. "You asked."
Ken, slack-jawed, watched as Luna readied the phone again.
Leroy didn't sing with dramatic flair. He simply stood there in front of the coffee bar, eyes lowered, voice smooth and resonant, carrying the quiet strength of distant mountains and old fields. It was not trained, but it was heartfelt.
When he finished, Luna slowly turned off the recorder and blinked.
"Well," she said quietly. "I didn't expect you to sound like that."
Ken mumbled, stunned, "Dude. Where did you hide that voice all this time?"
"I'm full of secrets," Leroy said with a wink.
Luna quickly made another post, pairing Madam Mu's warm voice and Leroy's surprising one:
"Double feature! A song of memory and one of harvest. Velvet Echo, if you're out there—we hope you hear these, and maybe, just maybe, sing them back. #VoicesOfHome #VelvetEchoChallenge"
As the post went live, Baozi gave a soft meow from Madam Mu's lap.
Madam Mu, smiling into her teacup, said, "If this doesn't stir the wind, nothing will."
And just like that, the café once again stirred with music, and the world outside quietly waited to echo it back.