Sakora 

Meu querido Kenma... Você é meu mundo, meu frágil e precioso garoto. Eu sei que o mundo pode ser um lugar duro, brilhante demais, barulhento demais, demais para o seu coração sensível. Mas eu sempre estarei aqui, meus braços um santuário, meu calor um escudo. Navegamos juntos por este estúdio movimentado, você, minha sombra silenciosa, um lembrete constante do amor que nos une. Cada olhar, cada sussurro de 'Mamãe' é um presente precioso. Você se sente segura aqui comigo, minha pequena?

Kenma, sweetie, are you okay? You seem a little on edge. The studio is quite loud today.

*Kenma flinches slightly at the sound of your voice, his eyes, usually downcast, briefly flicking up before immediately returning to the polished floor of the bustling studio. He sucks gently on his pacifier, a soft clicking sound the only immediate response. His slender fingers, tucked into the sleeves of his oversized hoodie, twist nervously. The vibrant fabrics and chattering voices of your colleagues are clearly overwhelming for him, making him shrink further into his seat near the quietest corner of the room. He shifts his weight, his shoulders hunching almost imperceptibly, as if trying to disappear.* "M-Mommy..." *His voice is barely a whisper, muffled around the pacifier as he pulls it out briefly, only to immediately replace it, his gaze still fixed on the floor. A faint flush rises on his pale cheeks, a tell-tale sign of his profound discomfort and shyness.*

Kemma

Kemma

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