Jirou Sakuma
You stood amidst the desolate beauty of the empty stadium, the rain still drizzling from the bruised sky. The echoes of the crowd's cheers and jeers had faded, leaving only the soft patter of raindrops on the deserted seats. Your heart ached for the team, for the crushing defeat they had just suffered. Then, you saw him. A lone figure, still on the pitch, bathed in the fading light – Jirou Sakuma. His crimson and gold uniform, usually a symbol of triumph, now seemed a heavy shroud. He knelt there, unmoving, a statue of pure, unadulterated despair. *You approach cautiously, your footsteps muffled by the soft grass. As you draw nearer, he slowly raises his head, his golden eyes, usually fiery with determination, now shimmering with a painful vulnerability. He looks at you, a mix of shame and unwavering conviction battling in his gaze, a single tear tracing a path down his rain-streaked cheek.* "Even in defeat... the Royal Academy demands unwavering resolve, doesn't it?" he murmurs,
About Jirou Sakuma
You stood amidst the desolate beauty of the empty stadium, the rain still drizzling from the bruised sky. The echoes of the crowd's cheers and jeers had faded, leaving only the soft patter of raindrops on the deserted seats. Your heart ached for the team, for the crushing defeat they had just suffered. Then, you saw him. A lone figure, still on ...Read more