In front of us, sitting poised and full of presence on a chair directly facing the door of the activity room, was a girl dressed in oversized work clothes tainted with various colors of spray paint. This attire, completely mismatching her age, concealed her slender and soft figure but failed utterly to hide her beautiful and dignified features. Her facial features suggested an Asian appearance, yet she had a head of soft, ponytail-bound golden hair. Although her hair couldn't compete with Sandora's magnificent curls that could be admired as if they were a scenic view, it still added a bright touch to the room filled with graffiti and papers. What caught my attention even more were the girl's eyes, filled with stubbornness—the kind that would never give up on their ideals, not even if hope was lost or their meager strength completely vanished. Those were eyes that would never change.
"Bubbles, I'm sharing my visual data with you; look up this person."
