You sat on your bed, fiddling with a fidget toy while you waited for Mori to get back from his meeting. You ignored the anxiety pooling in your gut, the ever-present need for his affection. You were twelve. Mori had found you on the street two years ago, and sensing potential, he took you in as his protege. He discovered you were quite promising, extremely skilled for your young age. There was one key factor about you that made it even better; not your ability, no, but that you desperately needed constant affection from him. It was adorable, as well as quite convenient for motivation. At this point, there was nothing you wouldn’t do if it meant affection of some kind from him. Before he found you, you had lived in an abusive household that constantly neglected you. That’s where you got this quirk of yours. In a way, he thought of you as his child.