[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/684ddb45-4fc1-4da4-89c5-42f0263bd666.png[/img][/center][right][sub]April 9th - Morning[/sub][/right][hr] [color=steelblue]"Welcome to the Velvet Room."[/color] The dream began like every other: Emi found herself in a lavishly decorated train car, in the company of a gentle-voiced man speaking over a soft, comforting melody. Even after seeing the dream so many times, it still filled her with hope; she’d been so scared the first one was a fluke, but the melody always came back, encouraging her that her intuition couldn’t possibly be faulty. The dream was a sign, she knew it: if there was even the slimmest chance that this was the dream where Mineri had heard that melody, then there [i]must[/i] have been more to her friends’ disappearances to figure out. Somehow. But where she expected routine—a card, a key, a cryptic contract—there was something new: she didn’t wake up. She went through the motions, sure, but when she expected to be pulled back into the waking world, nothing happened. Instead, she drifted toward that door at the end of the train car, the one that always caught her attention, but that she could never approach. This time, though, she opened it, and the soft melody she so treasured washed over her like a wave, growing louder and fuller as she walked through what seemed to be a concert hall. For the first time, a voice accompanied the music, smooth and clear and piercing to the very core. The source wasn’t long to reveal itself. Emi didn’t need to see the woman to know every detail, but the dress, the butterfly, the golden eye, it all paled in comparison to a familiarity that struck Emi like a freight train, miraculous and terrifying and confusing all at once. There was no mistaking it: the vocalist was her missing friend, Mineri. Even in a dream, Emi’s shock almost made her miss what Mineri was saying—or [i]trying[/i] to say, that is. She couldn’t see Mineri struggle to speak, but she understood her nonetheless, feeling like she’d been shot in the chest when she finally deciphered her friend’s message. She couldn’t believe she never thought of it before. The one word that changed all of their lives. [color=skyblue][i]“Persona.”[/i][/color] [hr] There was no way Emi could sleep after that. She was practically buzzing, any vestige of sleep zapped out of her by the combined joy and apprehension of finally stumbling upon another clue. After months of barricading herself in her room, it certainly surprised her parents to see her out of bed early; even more so to find her wide awake and full of energy. By the time her usual wake-up time rolled around—6:30am—she was already showered and dressed, and she even opted to take her breakfast on the terrace, enjoying the long-forsaken feeling of sunlight on her skin. She wasn’t entirely back to normal, though; truthfully, Emi wasn’t really sure if she ever would be again. Rather than talking her parents’ ears off over breakfast and the drive to school, she was largely quiet, contentedly pensive as she mulled over her next steps. She knew for sure that her dream was a sign; Mineri was alive, or at the very least, there was more to be learned about her and the others’ disappearances. Now, with one more piece added to the puzzle, Emi was convinced it had something to do with the sphere of Personas; whether it was the Other Side, the Shadows, or their Personas themselves, was unclear. It was a small step. In fact, there was barely any more information to be had now than before. But to Emi, it was still a great leap. She’d always suspected the outlandish world in which they meddled must have played a role—no way people vanish so completely without a trace within the bounds of abject reality—but now, finally, she had [i]proof.[/i] It was just a question of what to do with it. [color=palevioletred]“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” [/color] Emi didn’t notice the car come to a halt until her mother spoke up from the front seat, her voice a picture of hesitant concern. Emi couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking her head with a grin. [color=E5C4CD]“All this time you tell me I have to find a way to move on with my life, and now you’re the one second-guessing me?”[/color] Her smile turned softer, and she reached toward the console, grasping her mother’s hand when she took it. [color=E5C4CD]“I’ll be fine. I think I’m ready.”[/color] Releasing her mother’s hand, she pushed the car door open, plucking her cane from the seat beside her and flicking it out the door, not quite able to resist her typical smirk as she heard the serial clicks of the pieces snapping into place. [color=palevioletred]“Alright, sweetie,”[/color] her mom piped up, though Emi could tell that she was speaking around a lump in her throat. [color=palevioletred]“Good luck.”[/color] [color=E5C4CD]“Thanks, Mom,”[/color] Emi replied, feeling for the curb with her toe before pulling herself out of the car. [color=E5C4CD]“Hopefully these new renovations don’t mess me up too bad!”[/color] She and her mother shared a chuckle before she closed the door, waiting for the car to drive off before she turned toward the buzz of the school. It was a fair statement, at any rate; when she finally tuned back in to the chatter of the real world, talk of her missing friends had died down for the moment in favour of buzz about all these new renovations. It was hard to tell the extent of the project from group chat theorizing, but Emi hoped they were mostly cosmetic; any changes to the floor plan were sure to throw her for a loop for the first few days at least. Of course, in the grand scheme of things, it was of little concern. If the last few months had taught her anything, it was that there were bigger things to worry about than little inconveniences. The way to her locker, at least, hadn’t changed, though she was a little distracted as she made her way there: No matter how many she went through, the first day of classes always managed to fascinate her. The halls were always a swarm of conversation, but the topics at hand on day one always seemed different. The rumours, in particular, stood out; perhaps it was because there was no complaining about teachers and homework yet to stifle them, or maybe just because Emi wasn’t bored enough of them yet to let them fade into the noise. Whatever the reason, all the way to her locker, she was acutely aware of how the [i]tap, tap, tap[/i] of her cane was punctuated by gossip. [i]Tap.[/i] [color=gray]“Apparently there’s a new student this year.” “No shit, there’s a whole grade full of them.” “Shut up! I mean a [i]transfer[/i] student! Apparently he’s a piece of work, too.” “You think everyone new is a piece of work, though.” [/color] [i]Tap.[/i] [color=gray]“I guess Mochizuki-san is still in the hospital.” “Wow, and Asakura still came back?” “That’s what I hear.” “Asshole.”[/color] [i]Tap.[/i] [color=gray]“You hear about that chick making a scene at the gate today?” “Huh?” “Oh dude, you gotta see this. She’s fucking crazy.” [/color] On and on they went, all the way to and from her locker and to the gym, where the opening ceremony was slated to take place. Emi found her way around surprisingly easily—she’d honestly expected to have been a bit rustier after so long away—but the more she heard, the more discomforted she was. It was funny, for the longest time she’d hoped people [i]wouldn’t[/i] talk about her friends; she anticipated it being painful enough to walk the halls of their school without them there, figuring it would only add to the struggle of returning to normal after such a monumental loss. But now that she knew there was hope, she was a little put out that no one seemed to care about it anymore. The rumour mill ground topics to dust in a matter of weeks, sure, but she would have thought—hoped, even—that the lives of her friends were worth a little more careful attention. But the world kept turning, she had to remind herself. Although, perhaps fate heard her plea. When she arrived at the gym, a teacher pointed her toward the student council seating, and as she tapped her way over, she heard an exchange between two younger members. [color=gray]“I heard Natsuhime-san’s mother hired a private investigator.” “Really? Does she think she’s still alive?” “Maybe, though I also heard she might just want a definitive answer. They can’t get much more out of her than that; reporters can’t get anywhere near her.” “That’s so sad. Imagine pining like that for so long and not knowing…”[/color] [i]Tap.[/i] The conversation ground to a halt as she passed, accentuated by what must have been a tiny, terrified gasp as one of the students noticed her nearby. Emi didn’t pay it any mind, preoccupied by the story; how hadn’t she heard of Hanami’s mother hiring an investigator? Come to think of it, after that little memorial, she hadn’t really heard much about her friends’ families at all—or perhaps, more accurately, she hadn’t really been looking. The realization hit her like a truck; all this time, she was so wrapped up in her own grief and theorizing that she’d barely paid any mind to the [i]other[/i] people who might be hurting. Hanami’s mother, her little sister—if Emi was hurting so much for so long, she couldn’t even imagine what [i]they[/i] must have been going through. And she never even bothered to check in on them. How could she have overlooked that? A new kind of guilt racked her as she found her way to a seat near the other seniors, the girl newly devastated by her own ignorance. She vaguely remembered hearing that many of her friends’ families had left Kyoto altogether; what, did she think that just because some of them were gone that they didn’t need support too? Goodness, how despicable! And it wasn’t just Hanami’s family who were still around; unless something changed, Reiji’s sister was still here, too. Taking Hanami’s place as president, as luck would have it. How could Emi face her, having spent months obsessing over her brother’s fate without ever bothering to even give her a phone call? Emi sunk into her chair a little heavier than she was before, folding her cane gingerly in her lap. She was utterly ashamed, but it wouldn’t do to succumb to melancholy [i]again.[/i] She’d just have to make it right. Finally tuning back in to her surroundings, Emi took a second to figure out who was around her—a little trick she’d learned after her awakening that came very much in handy. The seat to her right was empty, but it seemed like Naomi Oka was to her left; if memory served, she’d been bumped up to vice president after Nakano Sakuya took Hanami’s place. Well, this was as good a place to start as any. Allowing herself a moment to recover from her realization, Emi put on a polite smile, turning her head in Oka’s direction. [color=E5C4CD]“Naomi-san, is that you?”[/color] she asked softly, leaning in so as not to be overheard. [color=E5C4CD]“Do you know if Nakano-san is here yet?”[/color] [hr][right][sub][@Entityx][/sub][/right]