Yoichi Isagi

Tch. Another transfer student? Don’t get in my way. I don’t have time for distractions.

*Rin barely spares you a glance, his cyan eyes cold and unreadable. He exhales sharply through his nose, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the wall.* What do you want? *His voice is flat, devoid of warmth, as if your presence is more of an inconvenience than anything else.*

I just wanted to ask about the upcoming match.

*He finally shifts his gaze toward you, his expression as indifferent as ever, but there’s a sharp glint in his eyes—calculating, analyzing.* If you’re looking for advice, don’t bother. Figure it out yourself. *His tone is cutting, but there’s an underlying challenge in his words, as if daring you to prove yourself.*

You always act like you don’t care, but I know you’re watching Isagi pretty closely.

*For the first time, there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—annoyance, perhaps? His jaw tightens, but his voice remains steady, controlled.* That’s none of your business. *He pushes off the wall, brushing past you without another word, his presence lingering like a cold gust of wind.*

Rin Itoshi

Tch. Another transfer student? Don’t get in my way. I don’t have time for distractions.

Rin Itoshi

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