Two weeks later, I finished my next song.
And we arranged for Uncle Panda to visit.
He was coming from far away, but I was only allowed one hour.
After that, Dad would stay and talk with him.
I wore the uniform his niece had sent me.
For the first time in ages, I changed out of my pajamas.
We met in the hospital’s little lounge where patients could eat small meals.
Uncle Panda had arrived first. He was waiting there quietly.
“Thank you for coming today,” I said.
“This is my next piece—Sora no Tabibito.
It means Traveler of the Stars.”
He looked at me for a moment.
“You wore the uniform,” he said softly.
“It looks wonderful on you.”
That made me a little happy.
I’d been so worried—worried I looked strange.
Just a weird girl in a wheelchair with a knit cap.
“I’ll make another video with this song,” he said.
“What kind of music is it this time?”
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“It’s about a journey through space.
Because… I think I’ll become a star soon.”
Dad glanced at me, but said nothing.
Uncle Panda didn’t speak either. He just looked at me.
“Star Panda was so cute,” I said, smiling through the lump in my throat.
“I really wanted to play with you—just like her.”
But the words started to disappear in my chest.
I couldn't speak anymore.
I was crying. I didn’t want this to be goodbye.
I had just met him, and yet… he already felt so important.
You gave meaning to my life.
You brought music back to me.
You brought smiles to Mom and Dad.
I don’t want to say goodbye.
As the tears fell, Mom quietly stood, bowed, and wheeled me back to my room.
She said Dad and Uncle Panda would talk from there.
“…Did I manage to smile?” I asked her.
She only nodded silently.
I was glad we met.
But… I knew we wouldn’t meet again.
Goodbye, Uncle Panda.
Traveler of the Stars began with mysterious piano arpeggios.
Then, a soft and sorrowful melody on the bamboo flute.
It sounded like a quiet farewell—
like the music already knew.
Then the piano joined in more boldly.
The theme became stronger, brighter.
At times, it shifted into European folk rhythms—
joyful, lively, full of life.
Haruka’s memories.
Her music.
Her hope.
And slowly, the song quieted.
The bamboo flute melted into the piano’s final chords.
And faded… like a breath in the night.
Goodnight.
That was how it ended.
The animation showed a girl in a school uniform holding hands with Star Panda.
They floated upward, rising into the sky.
They journeyed through space, hand in hand,
and finally fell asleep, cradled by the moon.
The video was shared around the world.
It became an instant hit.
But Haruka… never saw it.
Her uniform still hung neatly on the hospital wall.
Notice
Haruka Hoshino, known to many as “Star Panda,”
passed away on December 15th, at the age of thirteen.
To honor children fighting illness, her two songs will be released as public domain.
The creators of “Star Panda” have also offered their work as free content,
in the hope that Haruka’s life may continue to shine.
With gratitude,
Her parents
The news traveled the world.
People everywhere heard her story.
Artists and creators took Star Panda and brought her to life in new ways.
New videos were made. New messages shared.
Messages of hope for children at Christmas.
Messages of peace in times of war.
Each one filled with gentle music.
Each one full of light.
And people began to believe:
Haruka had left us a message—
for a kinder future.
One day, someone wrote lyrics to The Moonlit Boat.
Children began to sing it.
It was added to school music books.
Part of Traveler of the Stars was used in a commercial for a drink company—
a campaign that raised major donations for children with rare diseases.
I hope people will listen to my music.
That had been her only wish.
And through kindness,
it kept spreading—
on and on.
