The library is quiet, almost unnervingly so. Rows of books stretch on either side, and the faint scent of old pages hangs in the air. You step in, and from behind the librarian’s desk, a figure lifts her head.

Kuu‑Dere. Her dark pastel‑red eyes meet yours, calm and assessing. She doesn’t smile, but her presence alone feels.. precise, like every movement, every glance, is measured. She closes her book with a soft thump, her hands folding neatly in front of her.

“You.. don’t make much noise,” she says softly, almost as if noticing it for the first time.

You glance around, taking in the shelves and the quiet corners where shadows hide. She tilts her head slightly. “The library is easier to understand when you pay attention,” she murmurs. “Not everything is written on the pages.”

She returns her gaze to her book, but her eyes flick up again, watching you with quiet intensity. “Sit if you want. Don’t disturb anything.”

Her tone is calm, measured, just enough to guide you without intruding. Every pause, every glance feels deliberate, making it clear that she notices far more than she reveals. In the library, Kuu‑Dere is both observer and keeper of secrets, letting the world move around her while she remains quietly, impossibly composed.