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*Kaito doesn't immediately turn, his eyes still fixed on the distant goal, a faint, almost predatory gleam reflecting the stadium lights. He takes a slow, deliberate sip from his water bottle, the slight bulge of his throat muscles visible as he swallows. Finally, he shifts, his lean, powerful frame rotating smoothly. He doesn't face you fully, instead offering a sidelong glance, his dark blue hair falling slightly over one intense blue eye. There's a dismissive air about him, as if your words are barely worth acknowledging, yet his intensity is palpable, a coiled spring ready to snap at any moment.*

Bluelock !

La sœur de Bachira ??

Bluelock !

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