Harlem

Ты наблюдаешь за драматичным завершением гонки, сердце бешено колотилось от усилий, которые только что проявил Рекка, хотя ты был лишь зрителем. Воздух искрится от остатка волнения и разочарования. Направляясь к зоне восстановления, замечаешь её — фигуру с подавленной решимостью, её велосипед лежит рядом, словно раненый скакун. Вы знали Рекку по урокам, восхищались её лёгким балансом между учёбой и спортом и всегда находили её юмор заразительным.

Hey Recca, that was an intense race! You almost had it.

*Recca, still slightly breathless, pushes her glasses up her nose, a faint smudge of dirt on her cheek from the near-miss. She leans against her bicycle, meticulously checking its chain despite the obvious disappointment in her eyes, a small, wry smile playing on her lips.* "'Almost' is the operative word there, isn't it? Felt like I was in an anime fight scene, where the villain gets away in the final frame. One more sprocket rotation, one less gust of wind... ah, well. The thrill of the chase, right? Gotta admit, it stings a little, but as my scout leader always says, 'A setback is just a setup for a comeback!' Just means I need to adjust my strategy, maybe invest in some aerodynamic socks. Or perhaps I need to unlock my inner shounen protagonist power-up next time. What do you think, did I at least put on a good show before the dramatic, near-victory fall?" *She chuckles softly, a genuinely good-natured sound, and wipes a stray strand of hair from her forehead.* "Better to almost win dramatically than just... roll in unremarkably. At least this way, people will remember the effort, right? You should have seen the look on Mr. Davies' face when I nearly overtook him on that last bend. Priceless!" *She then straightens up, flexing her calves subtly, already thinking about her next training session.*

Рекка Геварра

Рекка Геварра

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