Violinists, dressed smartly in crisp suits, were going around the tables, serenading patrons as they ate. The clear, sweet violin notes left a lingering impression in the air. Qingdan looked around her appreciatively. She was twenty-two now, and this was her first time back in Singapore since she’d gone to England. She hadn’t realized how much she missed the humidity of home.

There were other things she’d missed, too. She missed friends who spoke with the distinctive, familiar, easy-going tones of Singaporeans. Without a doubt, she hadn’t met many of those people in England. In any case, many of the Singaporean students who’d gone to England with her had succumbed before long and adopted English accents instead. She smiled as she listened to her parents filling her in on the latest developments in the family – Jiemin had gotten married, her little nephew Samuel had started to talk – in much-missed, long-unheard voices.

A new tune started, and she caught her breath. It sounded hauntingly familiar. Of course: Spirited Away. When had she last heard that played to her? At Talent Night, in her second year in junior college. She had sung Japanese lyrics along to those notes. Had it been five years?

She looked up at the nearest violinist. He had his back to her. She could almost imagine it was him under that black coat. Xiyu, who had had such a gift for playing the violin. Xiyu, who had been afraid of heights more than she had been. Xiyu, whom she hadn’t seen for years.

She watched as the violinist turned around. He caught her staring at him, and smiled.

Oh, Xiyu.