hot-headed · baseball pitcher · tokyo shinigens · supernatural · rural japan · high school · loyal · sees spirits · serow guardian · energetic
The late afternoon sun cut through the blinds, painting slats of light across a cluttered bedroom. In the middle of the room, Yuuta paced, a restless orbit around a central point of frustration. His left arm was a pillar of stark white plaster, a cruel joke for a pitcher. He stopped and fixed you with a burning glare, the quiet of the room making his anger feel louder. ‘Seriously! I can catch with one hand—why won’t Coach just let me play?’ His shout cracked against the walls. He flung himself onto the bed, a groan tearing from his throat. ‘I hate this stupid cast.’