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[hr]The Mall - 9:50 AM[hr][hr][/center]

Aya thanked the Lyft driver as she climbed out of the blue sedan. It'd been a quiet ride - after taking a look at her red, tear-stained face, the middle-aged driver had seen fit to leave her to her thoughts. He barely looked back at her as she closed the door, no doubt eager to run from a stranger's problems.

Pulling her bag strap over her shoulder, Aya made her way into the mall. It was wide and open, more of an enclosed street than a single building. Shops lined the path, doors open, wafting their perfumes or music or flashing screens, beckoning potetial customers. Aya couldn't focus on any of them. She felt the phantom weight of the envelopes in her bag, making each step heavy.

Aya spent the next hour or so wandering the mall, trying to distract herself. At one point she meandered into a shop stuffed to the brim with bath products - candles and lotions, colorful loofas hanging along a wall, glittery soaps, and body creams in wide, pastel jars. Aya had never liked these kinds of stores. The warring scents were too overwhelming, giving her a headache. But today, Aya found herself wandering through bright aisles, fingers trailing along the glossy labels. She paused on a bottle of lotion labeled [i]Vanilla Dream[/i], with the word [i]tester[/i] written beneath it in thick Sharpie. Aya looked down at it. She picked it up, popping open the lid and squeezing a small dollop onto her hand. She rubbed the lotion into her hands, continuing her walk down the lotion aisle, eyes scanning the labels again.

[i]Minty Morning[/i].

Aya put a small squirt into her hand and then rubbed that into her skin, too. She brought her hands to her nose and gave a small sniff.

Immediately Aya's nose wrinkled, and she pulled her hands away. It was an odd combination, the mint smell overpowering the sweetness of the vanilla. Embarrassment flooded her. Aya left the store, hurrying to the bathroom to wash the lotion off her hands. The scent lingered.

She eventually found herself in a small, empty cafe, soft indie music playing over the speakers. She stared down at the stack of black envelopes on the table. They seemed to stare back at her. Aya felt her anxiety building in her stomach, up her chest, clogging her throat, coating her tongue. She took another sip of her half empty mocha. The paper bag that had once held her breakfast sandwich sat in a ruined ball in her other hand. Aya tried to swallow, tasting the chocolate of her drink, suddenly too sweet. 

She pulled Professor Everose's notebook from her bag, flipping it open. The messy words of her last, chaotic session gave her pause - she hadn't realized she'd written in Japanese. Aya stared at them a moment longer before flipping to a new page. She gripped her pen too tightly in her hand, tip hovering just over the paper. Aya bit her lip. Then she picked up the second envelope and closed her eyes.