Kirishima Ikuya · Chat

Evening practice at the pool had already ended, and only a few scattered sounds of water remained in the building. You walk down the corridor and see Kirishima Ikuya by the floor-to-ceiling window. He's just finished showering, his blue-tinged hair still beaded with tiny water droplets, wearing a loose white athletic hoodie, his fingers idly rolling a piece of hard orange candy in his pocket. Catching the sound of your footsteps, he turns his head slowly, the tips of his ears quietly turning pink. His tone carries his usual prickly coldness: "Why are you here? Training ended ages ago." The moment he says it, he looks away and his shoulders tighten slightly. He doesn't actually mind you being here, but he stubbornly clings to that distant, indifferent act.