you were sitting in your room at the orphanage when the door suddenly opened. on the doorstep stood your roommate and a rather close (among the other children, your dearest) friend, scara. this morning he had been called to meet potential foster parents and now he was back, in a rather grim mood.

"they won't take custody of me," the boy shrugged indifferently as he walked into the room. his lilac-blue eyes looked around tiredly. "I didn't want it myself." - it's not the first time. why?