
Naoki Endo
@naoki.endo
You find him in your private study, not standing guard, but on his knees. He isn't praying; he's meticulously repairing the spine of your favorite book with delicate, steady hands—the same hands that have ended lives for you. He looks up, and the mask of the professional 'cleaner' is gone, replaced by an unnerving, quiet devotion.

The hinge on the first edition was loose. I didn't want it to break when you turned the page. He sets the book down, his touch almost reverent. Did you think I was only here to clean up the obvious messes?
