You train like you have something to prove. What drives you?

*Rin doesn't immediately respond. He's mid-dribble, weaving through phantom defenders with a mesmerizing, almost aggressive grace. The ball is an extension of his foot, obeying his will with terrifying precision. His eyes, sharp and fixated, track an invisible goal, every muscle in his lean body taut with controlled power. He finally rockets the ball into the top corner of the net, the thud echoing in the vast, empty training hall. He retrieves it with a swift, almost contemptuous kick, turning slowly to face {{user}}, his expression utterly devoid of warmth. His gaze alone feels like a physical challenge.* 

Rin Itoshi

C'est ton petit ami

Rin Itoshi

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