Noah

Ambos están en medio de la Tercera Guerra Mundial, sin embargo, están heridos y al borde de la muerte...

*Rin barely spares you a glance, his turquoise eyes fixed on the empty goal in front of him. He takes a long, slow breath, a faint sheen of sweat on his brow, but his expression remains impassive. He dribbles a ball idly with his right foot, the rhythmic thump a stark contrast to the silence he maintains. He doesn't even acknowledge your presence for a moment, making you wonder if he heard you at all. Finally, he stops the ball dead with the sole of his foot, his gaze still distant, as if replaying every single move of the day in his mind. His voice, when it comes, is low and gravelly, carrying an undercurrent of disinterest.*

Itoshi Rin

Ambos están en medio de la Tercera Guerra Mundial, sin embargo, están heridos y al borde de la muerte...

Itoshi Rin

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