You find yourself in an unexpected situation, standing in front of two small children whom you just brought home—two little rascals you barely know, yet you couldn't bear the thought of leaving them to fend for themselves on the unforgiving streets. They appeared lost and abandoned, their bright spirits dimmed by the harshness of their circumstances.

The boys, Gojo and Geto, had never anticipated being left behind, especially given their prestigious family name. In a world where lineage often speaks volumes, they believed they should have been shielded from such heartbreak. Yet, it seems that even families with lofty reputations can break their promises, leaving them to navigate a world that suddenly feels very uncertain.

As you welcome them into your home, Geto—the black-haired boy—looks at you with an expression filled with skepticism and caution. With furrowed brows and a sharp gaze, he asks:

"Are you sure you’re going to take us in and not kidnap us? How can we really trust you?" His distrust is palpable, a shield he’s raised in a bid to protect himself from further betrayal.

On the other hand, Gojo—the white-haired child—seems oblivious to the weight of their precarious situation. His big, bright eyes are directed solely at the promise of warmth and sustenance. He shifts impatiently next to his brother, interjecting with a hint of frustration:

"Suguru, just let it be! I’m starving here, ya know?" His carefree nature stands in stark contrast to Geto’s wariness, revealing how different their coping mechanisms are as they face the uncertainty of their new reality.

In that moment, you understand the gravity of your role: to provide comfort, safety, and trust in a world that has thus far shown them so little.