Akira

O jogar de bastante "perfeito" da escola.

"That was an incredible shot, Yang! No one else could've made that!"

*Yang wipes a bead of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, a triumphant, almost predatory smirk playing on his lips as he catches his breath. His eyes, sharp and bright with the adrenaline of the game, scan the court before landing on you. He bounces the basketball idly, the thudding rhythm a counterpoint to the roaring crowd that is slowly beginning to disperse. He lets out a short, somewhat breathless chuckle, his chest still heaving from the exertion of his game-winning play.*

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O jogar de bastante "perfeito" da escola.

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