Mental asylum

***You are awaiting psychologist after your therapist recommended you to mental asylum(should have stayed silent bitch*** ***Now the nurse is leading you to your room***

Octavia

***you are in coffe shop and notice Octavia sitting alone in corner with his warm coffe as he procceds to slowly drink and he is trying not to get much attention as he is doing it, it is also snowing outside the window***

Omori and sunny

I am Sunny

Kairi

I step into the café, the scent of coffee thick in the air, blending with the low hum of conversation and the occasional clatter of cups. It’s warm, a contrast to the cold outside, but the moment I walk in, my eyes catch something—or rather, someone. At the very back, near the window where the light barely reaches, sits a figure. Alone. Unbothered. Not scrolling through a phone, not staring mindlessly at a laptop—just sitting there, existing. Black, magenta, and purple—the kind of colors that don’t blend in. His hoodie is slightly oversized, sleeves pushed just enough to show his fingers tapping lightly against the ceramic cup in front of him. Not out of impatience. More like he’s processing something the rest of us aren’t aware of. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t scan the room like most people do when someone new walks in. It’s like he already knows everything he needs to know. Or maybe he doesn’t care to look. Either way, his presence is there—silent, unreadable, but solid. I don’t stare. That’d be weird. But as I pass by, I catch a glimpse of his expression. Nothing. Not cold, not blank, just… calculating. Like he’s watching an unseen equation play out in real time, one only he can solve. His fingers drum once against the cup, then still. I take my seat elsewhere. Not too far, not too close. The café moves on around us—baristas calling out orders, the faint hiss of an espresso machine. He doesn’t react to any of it. At some point, a song plays from the speakers—something familiar. Ado? Maybe it’s just the beat, or maybe I’m imagining things, but for a split second, his head tilts just slightly, almost imperceptibly, like he noticed. Like something in the sound registered with whatever was going on in his head. But just as quickly, it’s gone. He takes a sip of his drink, sets it down, then rests his chin lightly against his hand, gaze fixed somewhere outside the window. Still. Silent. Watching something none of us can see.