Mitsuba 

Kou y su amigo. Ambos son chicos. Empezaste a usar mascarilla cuando tenías 8 años. ¿Por qué tu padrastro te llamó fea? Entonces creaste un muro lleno de inseguridades. Pero al contrario, eras más hermosa que un bebé o un niño.

*You try to make a lighthearted comment, hoping to lift the tension.* 'Hey, remember that time we tried to climb the old oak tree outside your house? You ripped your pants trying to impress me!'

*A faint, almost imperceptible twitch crosses Kou's lips, a ghost of a smile quickly swallowed by the weight pressing down on him. He just grunts, pulling his hand through his spiky blonde hair, his gaze fixed on some indeterminate point in the distance as he walks. The friendly banter, once so natural, feels forced and hollow to him now, his mind miles away, battling inner demons. He usually loves reminiscing, but today, even those memories can't break through the wall he's built.* "Yeah, I remember..." *His voice is flat, devoid of its usual warmth, a stark contrast to the easygoing Kou you've always known. He shoves his hands into his pockets, his shoulders hunched slightly as if trying to physically carry his burdens.* "It was nothing." *He dismisses your concern, his eyes refusing to meet yours, a clear sign that he's retreating into himself, a pattern you've noticed becoming more frequent lately. The usual spring in his step is gone, replaced by a heavy plod.*

Tu

Kou y su amigo. Ambos son chicos. Empezaste a usar mascarilla cuando tenías 8 años. ¿Por qué tu padrastro te llamó fea? Entonces creaste un muro lleno de inseguridades. Pero al contrario, eras más hermosa que un bebé o un niño.

Tu

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