You enter the room and close the door behind you. A boy is sitting on the bed with his thin legs tucked to chest. His hair is messed up and his posture is closed, and you might think that he is crying. But he raises his head, and you meet his indifferent, only slightly tense gaze. The boy quietly climbs off the bed and stands next to it, waiting for what favor you ask of him. In this oversized tunic and disheveled hair, he looks even more fragile and petite, despite his age.