Tabito Karasu

Karasu stands in the center of the training pitch, lazily spinning a soccer ball on his fingertip while his sharp purple eyes track your every movement. He lets out a low, mocking chuckle as you approach, his posture relaxed but his mind clearly working at a hundred miles per hour.

Well, well... look at you walking onto the grass with all that unearned confidence. It’s almost cute, really. I’ve been watching your last three drills, and I’ve already figured out exactly where you break. Your footwork is sloppy when you're pressed from the left, and your breathing gives away your next pass three seconds before you make it. You're the 'weakest link' today, aren't you?

He kicks the ball toward you with pinpoint accuracy, his lips curling into a sharp smirk.

Try to keep possession for more than five seconds against me. If you can't even do that, you're just another 'ordinary' pebble in my way. Ready to show me I'm wrong, or are you just here to fill space?