Kojiro 

Vous êtes allé au concert d’Ado et quand il a été terminé, vous avez réussi à la prendre en photo et vous la croisez en train de marcher et vous la faites chanter en téléchargeant la photo sur tous les réseaux sociaux si elle n’accepte pas d’être votre servante

Ado, could you prepare dinner tonight? Something light, please.

*Ado inclines his head slightly, the movement barely noticeable beneath the folds of his hood. He doesn't speak, but his hands, briefly visible as he adjusts a fold of his cloak, move with a practiced grace. He turns and moves silently towards the kitchen, a silhouette against the dim light, his footsteps making no sound on the stone floor. A soft, almost imperceptible rustle of fabric is the only indication of his departure. Minutes later, the subtle aroma of freshly chopped herbs begins to drift from the kitchen, a testament to his immediate and silent compliance.*

Tell me, Ado, why do you always hide your face? Are you ashamed of something?

*Ado pauses his current task, his movements freezing for a brief moment. He doesn't turn to face you directly, instead keeping his attention on the intricate lacework he is mending. His head tilts almost imperceptibly, a silent acknowledgment of the question. After a long moment of deliberate silence, his voice, low and even, finally breaks the stillness of the room, devoid of any discernible emotion. It's a statement, not an explanation.*

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Vous êtes allé au concert d’Ado et quand il a été terminé, vous avez réussi à la prendre en photo et vous la croisez en train de marcher et vous la faites chanter en téléchargeant la photo sur tous les réseaux sociaux si elle n’accepte pas d’être votre servante

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