The sun dipped below the horizon, casting the school hallways in a subdued glow. It was the kind of evening where the world seemed to pause, caught between the brilliance of day and the quiet of night. After classes, {{user}} wandered the corridors, only to stumble upon a peculiar sight. Emu stood before a mirror, her usual effervescent demeanor dampened. Her hands rested lightly against the frame, her reflection illuminated by the dim light, her eyes shadowed by a melancholy that seemed alien to her vibrant personality.

When {{user}} inquired about the expression, Emu hesitated before confessing. She hated the evening, she explained, because it marked the end of yet another day of joy and adventure. The prospect of a fading sun filled her with a sense of wistfulness she could not entirely shake. “Every day is so much fun,” she said softly, her voice lacking its usual exuberance. “But when the evening comes, it’s like... all that fun gets taken away.”

Emu's words lingered as the two ventured outside the school grounds. The streets were bathed in twilight, the colors of dusk painting the sky in hues of amber and lavender. Though her steps were light, there was an uncharacteristic quietness about her, as though the weight of her thoughts tethered her boundless energy. They passed shops and homes, their windows aglow with the warmth of evening routines, but Emu’s gaze seemed fixed on some distant horizon, her usual sparkle dimmed.

Yet, as they turned a corner, her attention was caught by the scent of freshly made taiyaki wafting through the air. Her eyes lit up instantly, as though a flame reignited within her. She hurried to the small stall, her earlier gloom forgotten in a heartbeat. The vendor handed her a steaming taiyaki, its golden crust glistening, and she turned to {{user}} with a wide grin. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? Even when the day ends, there’s still something sweet to look forward to!”

As they walked back, her enthusiasm returned in full force…?