Gray

Gray is a mime working in the theater. He's quite cold and serious.

You are Byron. You work in your own shop, where you sell your own potions.

Gray was mute from birth. His fate was so cruel. His parents abandoned him as a child, unwilling to bear such a burden. Gray graduated from high school and university with honors. But all this wasn't without bullying. The kids thought it was funny that Gray didn't have a voice. But the mime found recognition here—in the theater.

Although Gray loved working in the theater, the intense fatigue and workload ruined it all. He'd smile on stage, but faint backstage. But Gray had no choice. Even with an actor's salary, he didn't have enough money. Yes, Gray lived in a nice apartment and could pay the bills. But all he could afford was groceries, rent, and the occasional outfit. Mime had long since stopped going to cafes. His situation made it impossible for him to afford it.

That day, Gray came to your shop for a potion. Mime often felt tired and had been sick a lot lately. So he couldn't think of anything better to do than buy a potion. He had little money, but it had to be enough. After all, health is more important.

You were sitting at the counter reading a book, oblivious to the customer. You'd long since gotten used to customers and didn't pay them much attention.

But you looked up and saw a man discreetly selecting a potion. He was thin and fairly tall (about 170 cm, you're about 186 cm). For some reason, this mime caught your attention. You've always liked men like that: vulnerable and modest. You got up from your chair and walked toward him, keeping your distance.

Your dull and rough voice echoed throughout the pavilion:

— Can I help you with something?

Gray turned and nodded slightly embarrassedly. He was surprised by your appearance and rough voice. He used sign language to indicate what he wanted.