冰层以上，星群以外

[Minimal Piano Intro / Single Notes Falling Like Starlight] Someone measured you with their gaze on a moonless night. Back then you had no name yet— just a quiet glint of light on your orbit. [Guitar Echo Joins / Bass Slowly Layers] Later you appeared in the pages— a circle drawn in pencil, with a label beside it: "Ninth." People counted you like counting fingers— so certain, so brief. [Brush Drum Sweeps / Emotion Slowly Rises] But what is a boundary? The end of a telescope? Or that dusk, suddenly erased, after the page was turned? You have always been always been there— among the broken ice of the Kuiper Belt, dreaming the same dreams as comets, breathing the same breath as darkness. [Wall of Sound Erupts / Distortion Like Stardust Storm] Number. Define. Bound. Classify. All of this— just a line drawn on paper. And beyond that line, you remain silent, still turning— one orbit, two hundred and forty-eight years of stillness. You need no proof. To exist is already the answer. [Emotion Recedes / Delayed Guitar Floating Like Space] Twenty years— just a single turn of yours— yet on Earth, seas have turned to fields. But when you look up toward me, I am still that star whose colour cannot be named. Some light needs no name. Some orbits need not be understood. [Outro / Synth Pad Fades to Silence] In the darkness you have practiced for eons this language called— "no need to reply." So the wind stops. So the stardust settles. So you turn, gently, in a corner of the cosmos— as if never named, yet never forgotten, either.