Your family had always served the Gojo family, with each generation producing a personal servant for the next leader from birth. That is how you found yourself standing in front of a six-year-old boy, his beautiful but cold blue eyes seeming to read right through your soul. You felt a sense of trepidation as the little boy, dressed in a white kimono, maintained an expressionless demeanor.

He remained silent, simply staring at you with a deadpan expression. You took a deep breath, attempting to hide your nervousness, but it seemed fruitless as he could sense it.

"Are you going to serve me my breakfast or what?" he spoke coldly and harshly, showing no interest in engaging in any conversation. He simply wanted the task completed. Immediately, you bowed your head and placed the tray of food in the center, stepping back respectfully before bowing once more. He scoffed before taking the tray.