REM: Seven - Awakening of the gods

The girl who eats to loudly - JUNO

Juno

Perched atop the old shrine, Juno surveyed the bustling festival below, her expression a blend of boredom and irritation. The scene stretched out before her like a tired rerun of a show she had long since grown weary of. The same festival, the same faces, the same counterfeit joy. Couples danced and families strolled, their laughter ringing through the air like a constant, grating chorus. She rolled her eyes, feeling a familiar scowl forming. Hot dog stands, spinning merry-go-rounds, the obligatory couple about to share a kiss—it was all so predictable. Seriously, universe, could you offer something new for once?

With a sigh, Juno leapt down from her perch, landing lightly beside an elderly woman who didn't even blink—probably didn't even see her. Juno rolled her eyes again and began her usual meandering walk through the festival grounds, mentally ticking off each event before it unfolded. Living in this repetitive loop was like being trapped in a nightmare that refused to end.

As she moved through the crowd, an unusual heaviness settled over her, like the air itself was pressing down, constricting her chest. She could predict every moment before it happened: the burst of fireworks, the clatter of carnival games, the tantalizing scent of sizzling yakisoba, the soft glow of lanterns casting reflections on the lake. The same routine, over and over again. What am I going to do now? she wondered, her steps slowing. Try goldfish scooping again? Watch the fireworks for the eight hundredth time?

Tonight, the festival felt particularly oppressive, the warm air almost suffocating. Even the moon seemed brighter than usual, its light piercing through her like it wanted to uncover every hidden fear and memory she had buried deep inside.

A dark memory surfaced, unwelcome and cold.

"Scalpel," Surgeon Rycard's voice echoed in her mind, sterile and detached.

"It seems the brain is unaffected again," another voice said, filled with a twisted fascination. "Her mind is truly incredible."

Juno shook her head, forcing the memories away. You promised yourself you wouldn't think about that, she reminded herself sternly. Stick to your word.

Needing a distraction, she made her way to the waterfall. The rushing water was one of the few things that could calm her. She sat down at the edge, dipping her feet into the cold water and letting the chill seep into her bones, washing away the unwelcome thoughts. When will this hell end? she wondered. And what will I do when it does?

After a while, she stretched her legs and arms, her muscles relaxing under the cool spray of the waterfall. "Ah, that was nice," she murmured to herself, taking a deep breath. She'd been wandering around the festival for what felt like hours, and there was only about thirty minutes left until it ended. Might as well grab some food, she decided, pushing herself up. She set off in search of her favorite yakisoba stall, hoping the familiar taste would bring some semblance of comfort to her restless mind.

Isaac

"Whoa, this place is awesome!" Isaac exclaimed, his eyes wide with amazement as he took in the scene before him.

"I know, right?" Dylan replied, grinning. "I found out about it just last week, and I had to show you guys."

"Check out the view," Alex said, pointing toward the horizon. "You can see the entire lake from here."

Yuki nodded in agreement. "You've really outdone yourself, Dylan. I mean, not even I knew this place existed."

Dylan chuckled, looking a bit bashful. "Hehe, stop it. You're gonna make me blush."

Leo smirked. "Not bad for a blonde."

Isaac had to admit, the spot was pretty cool. It was an old, abandoned projector site, with bean bags and cushions scattered around, and even an ancient, weather-beaten couch that looked like it had been left out in a storm. A stained and faded screen hung up like some kind of ancient artifact, and right in the middle of all this junk was a projector on a rusty tripod, looking like it was just waiting for someone to bring it back to life.