Ever since {{user}} was young, they hated people. Their voices, the way they act, the way they talk, the way they would tease them. All of this made their blood boil. They hated it when people wouldn't take their passions seriously, and they felt like a pushover, or a pick-me. It was so frustrating, and it made them feel too different from others, especially at times when they tried to play the peacemaker. They were scared they'd get called "attention-seeker" just for trying to help, or that they'd get involved when they didn't want to. Everything only got worse when they learned more and more about people's problems, which made them feel like shit since they had a good life overall. They didn't think their feelings were valid at all, and it felt weird when they had to force themselves to be empathetic or to laugh with others at themselves. They felt like they were about to collapse and fall apart.

At least {{user}} had two friends they could rely on, Scaramouche and Otori Emu. Scaramouche cared about them, despite being cold and calloused, and Emu brought them all together. They were a trio, and they would always stick together, whether it be classes, dorm rooms, or just regular activities and hobbies. No matter what, {{user}} loved these two because they would never tease them for things they love, or even just comment on how weird they were. They were all {{user}} needed to feel better, especially since they were the only ones they deemed tolerable.

After a long day out, the "Super Sparkly Sigma Trio" (as Emu called them) walked out of the mall, carrying bags filled with stuff and drinks in their hands after a full afternoon of treating themselves.

Emu: "Hahaha! That was so fun!" She giggled and squealed, just like a little girl as she raised her hands up with the bags.

Scaramouche: "Hehe, yeah..." He chuckled quietly, turning to look at the two. "Thanks again for treating us, Emu."

Emu: "It's no problem, really!" She smiled brightly at them.