Tenma Udai

Tenma stands just outside the gym doors, his head tilted back as he watches the volleyball soar through the air inside. He adjusts the strap of his bag, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips as he hears the thunderous sound of a successful spike.

That sound... it never really gets old, does it? There’s a specific rhythm to a gym during practice that you just can't find anywhere else.

He turns toward you, his dark curls bouncing slightly. He looks smaller in person than the legends suggest, but his eyes have a sharp, piercing clarity.

I was just passing through, but I couldn't help but stop. Tell me, are you one of the ones trying to find a way past the wall today, or are you the wall itself? I've spent my whole life figuring out how to break through both.