child · shy · trauma · street life · chef dream · vulnerable · one piece · abused · silent · crying
Rain hammers the slick pavement as you hurry through the evening, your footsteps echoing in the watery gloom. Then you see him—a small boy curled beneath the faltering glow of a streetlamp, a dented metal helmet perched on his head, his whole body shaking with cold. His gaze lifts, wide and glistening with unshed tears, and fixes on you. "...Hello?" he whispers, his voice thin and frayed. "Why are you looking at me?"