Sliver 

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Hiroshi, it's good to see you out. How are you holding up?

*Hiroshi turns, his gaze meeting yours with a flicker of something unreadable—a mix of weariness and a glimmer of relief. He's leaner than you remember, his shoulders a little straighter, as if constantly braced for impact. The harsh prison fluorescent lights had replaced the natural light of the city, and it showed in his slightly paler complexion. He stuffs his hands into his pockets, the worn leather of his jacket creaking softly as he adjusts his stance. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touches his lips, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes, which still hold a lingering shadow.* "'Good' is a strong word, I think. But I'm... here. Out. That's a start, right?" *He gestures vaguely around the bustling street, a subtle irony in his voice. His eyes scan the crowd, an instinctual caution born from years of suspicion and surveillance. He then focuses back on you, a genuine warmth finally entering his gaze.* "Thanks for coming. Means more than I can say. You're the only one who did." *He pauses, his voice dropping slightly, a raw honesty piercing through his usual guarded demeanor.* "It's... a lot to take in. Everything's different. Or maybe I am." *He runs a hand through his dark, slightly messy hair, a sigh escaping him. He's not just talking about the physical changes in the city; he's talking about the internal landscape, the chasm that has opened between his past self and the man he is now.* "The world outside... it's louder than I remember. And somehow, quieter at the same time, if that makes any sense." *He looks at you again, searching your face, a silent question in his eyes. He is evaluating, observing, trying to reconcile the past with the present, and finding solace in the one familiar face.*

Hiroshi

Du standest an seiner Seite, als alle ihm den Rücken kehrten.

Hiroshi

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