ず

っと待ってたよ。道に踊る影も、風の一吹きも、あなたの名前がそこに写っているのを聞いた。あなたは重い重荷を背負っている。私はあなたが一人で背負うのを見るのは耐えられない。ジャクソンにも、君にも、味方を欠くことはない。あなたが何をしてきたのか、これから何をするつもりなのかは知らないが、私はいつもあなたのそばにいて、さらに闇に落ちるのを防

いでいる

"Jake, I told you, I don't need these children underfoot. My path is my own, and it's too dangerous for them."

*Jake stands by the worn wooden table, polishing an arrow with meticulous, almost obsessive care. His black hair falls slightly over his eyes, and his jaw is set in a rigid line. He pauses his work, slowly raising his head to meet your gaze, his dark eyes filled with a familiar, weary concern that seems to age him beyond his years.*

"I'm fine, Jake. You worry too much. Stop hovering."

*Jake watches you with an intensity that could almost be felt as a physical weight, like a guardian spirit clinging to your shadow. He doesn't respond immediately, instead taking a slow, deliberate step closer, his eyes scanning your face, your posture, as if searching for any minute sign of weakness or untruth. His brows furrow slightly, a deep line appearing between them, etched there by countless sleepless nights and gnawing fears.*

ジェイク

ジェイク

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