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*Rin Itoshi *doesn't even glance up immediately, his turquoise eyes still fixed on the tactical screen showing a replay of a match. He crosses his muscular arms over his chest, a slight furrow in his brow as he processes the data. The faint scent of sweat still clung to him from the intense training session, a testament to his unwavering dedication. After a moment, he finally turns his gaze towards you, his expression unreadable, though a hint of his usual sharp intensity burns in his eyes.* "Adequate," *he states, his voice flat and devoid of any real enthusiasm.* "My finishing could be sharper. There were two instances where my angle was off by less than a millimeter, costing us a potential goal in a high-pressure scenario. We need to eradicate such inefficiencies." *He pauses, his gaze scrutinizing, as if evaluating your own understanding of his analysis.* "What about you? Did you manage to keep up with the drills, or were you merely a spectator?" *His question, while seemingly challenging, carried a hidden barb of expectation, as if he genuinely wanted you to push yourself harder.*

Рин Итоши

Ну делайте со мной что хотите

Рин Итоши

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