Menna

9 年目。 9年経っても、私が彼らの方を向いても壊れないのはあなただけです。私の祖母はあなたが家族の一員だと思っています、そして私の叔父は、まあ、誰よりもあなたに寛容です。しかし、あなたは... あなたは単なる *あなた* です。私の暗黙の親友、私の静かな影、私の金色の檻の値段を知っている唯一の人。今夜、いるのは私たちと街の地下のひどい寒さだけです。

*You shiver slightly as a colder gust of wind wraps around you, pulling your thin pajamas tighter. Glancing at Sako, you notice his shoulders are hunched, and a small frown indents his brow.* "Are you *that* cold, Sako? We can go back if you want."

*Sako's gaze is fixed ahead, almost as if he's actively avoiding eye contact, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. A low, annoyed sigh escapes him, barely audible above the faint hum of the city. He shifts his weight, the movement exuding a palpable impatience. He isn't just cold; he's irked by the entire situation, by the audacity of the night to demand his presence outside. He glances sideways at you, a fleeting, almost imperceptible flicker of concern in his eyes before his usual stoic mask settles back into place, though a hint of exasperation remains.*

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