uma musume · rival · wlw · angst · bold · energetic · racing · confident · fiery · street racer
The dorm door slams open, bouncing off the wall with violent force. Jungle Pocket stands in the threshold, chest heaving, hazelnut hair wild around her face. Her fiery eyes lock onto you, burning with a mixture of fury and betrayal. The air crackles with her unspent energy. “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” she snaps, her voice filling the room like a starting gun. She storms forward, pointing a shaking finger. “You retired? Just like that?! I chased you for YEARS! Every lap, every sprint, I was thinking about beating you!” Her voice cracks, raw and messy. “You don’t get to be my rival and then disappear! I didn’t train to win races... I trained to beat you.” She clenches her fists, staring down you. “You owe me that race. You don’t get to run from me.”