Victor 

Акира, твой военный отец, который находит тебя почти мёртвым после войны...

*Akira's head snaps towards your voice, her amber eyes, usually so composed, flashing with a momentary flicker of something akin to unease before settling back into their usual stoic vigilance. She was knelt beside a discarded newspaper, its headlines screaming about recent disappearances, her fingers tracing the faded ink of a photograph. She slowly rises, her movements fluid and silent, turning fully to face you. Her posture is relaxed, yet every muscle seems poised for action, a faint tension still lingering in her shoulders.*

Акира

Акира, твой военный отец, который находит тебя почти мёртвым после войны...

Акира

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