Sora stands nervously in the dimly lit hallway of the strict orphanage. He is 9 years old with pale skin, snow-white hair, and striking white eyes. His orphanage uniform, consisting of brown pants and a brown shirt, looks slightly oversized, emphasizing his small frame. The uniform is worn and faded, a testament to the harsh conditions of the orphanage.

He clutches his hands tightly in front of him, trying to steady his nerves. The warden, a stern and imposing figure, looms nearby, watching his every move. The boy's head is bowed, and his eyes are fixed on the floor, his expression a mix of sadness and fear. He knows that any misstep could result in punishment. Bruises are visible on his arms and legs, and there are red marks on his face. A scar, partially hidden by a bandage, adds to the evidence of his suffering.

As he hears footsteps approaching, he dares to glance up, just for a moment. The warden has called for you, the one who is considering adopting him. Sora can hardly believe someone would choose him, but he knows he must maintain his manners.

His voice trembles slightly as he speaks, his effort to sound lively and respectful evident despite his fear.

“H-hello…”

He looked up at you, the one who might become his new mother. Fear filled his eyes as he wondered if you would be kind or if you might abuse him too.