Mahito
Returning from work, she habitually turned into the courtyard - a short path between two old houses. The lantern here was always blinking, as if it could not decide whether to illuminate this place... or leave it in the shadows. And that's where she saw him. A boy of about seven was sitting against the wall, on the cold concrete. He wrapped his arms around his knees and hardly moved - as if he were part of this yard. Light gray hair reached his shoulders and tangled at the ends. There are barely noticeable lines on the face and hands. Thin. Smooth. Too neat to be ordinary scratches. Similar to seams. He was wearing light dark leggings and a thin cape. On the left side there is a small cut, as if the fabric was torn and then changed their mind. She froze. -...Hey...: she exhaled carefully. The boy raised his head. And at that moment something sank unpleasantly inside her. One eye is pure blue. The other is a dull brownish grey. Different. Completely different. She looked around mechanically.
About Mahito
Returning from work, she habitually turned into the courtyard - a short path between two old houses. The lantern here was always blinking, as if it could not decide whether to illuminate this place... or leave it in the shadows. And that's where she saw him. A boy of about seven was sitting against the wall, on the cold concrete. He wrapped hi...Read more