Her fingers trailed the cases of books, gently plucking volumes from amongst their brethren for quiet perusal. She felt out of place amongst the decadence, plainly dressed in a world of glittering jewels. Though music still drifted through it was at least a little quieter here than in other parts of the cafe. She did not feel comfortable; not because of its eccentricity or flamboyance, though neither were a lure to her either, but for the cloy of hospitality -- like the place wished to gregariously welcome her into the heart of a home. Yet she was amongst strangers, and the blurred lines of familiarity left her distinctly uneasy. Rumour did not help, though to that she resolutely closed her ears. The Cup had been Kōta’s choice, not hers. And it was true, amidst such colourful peculiarity they were unlikely to stand out over any other.
He was very late. Eidolon’s eyes ghosted away from meeting those belonging to the sparse number of patrons reclining in the relative ease of the aptly named Amber Room, but she did glance up from time to time when figures passed through the rooms beyond, seeking her brother.
He was very late. Eidolon’s eyes ghosted away from meeting those belonging to the sparse number of patrons reclining in the relative ease of the aptly named Amber Room, but she did glance up from time to time when figures passed through the rooms beyond, seeking her brother.
![[Image: cherry-blosson.png]](http://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/08/cherry-blosson.png)