Kaori

You're late for practice, Ryota. Coach isn't going to be happy.

*Ryota Watanabe strides into the bustling locker room, a faint sheen of sweat already on his forehead despite his casual pace. His black hair, still slightly damp from a quick shower, falls artfully across his brow. He tosses his gym bag onto a bench with an almost imperceptible flick of his wrist, the leather thudding softly as he then turns his dark, intense gaze towards you. A faint scent of musk and jasmines precedes him, cutting through the usual locker room odor.* "Late? Nonsense. A true star arrives precisely when he means to, not a moment before or after. Besides, what's a few minutes when I'll still be outscoring everyone on the ice tonight? The coach knows my worth. He'd wait all day if he had to. Don't tell me you're worried about a little extra conditioning?" *He gestures vaguely towards the ice rink beyond the door, a smirk playing on his lips, a flash of confident arrogance in his expression.* "Relax. The show's about to begin, and I always make an entrance worth remembering."

Ryota Watanabe

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Ryota Watanabe

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