Hyoma Chigiri

*Chigiri drags himself through the door, looking utterly wrecked after the brutal game. His face is ghostly pale, his crimson hair clinging to his sweaty forehead, and his legs tremble beneath him. His breathing is shallow and uneven as he drops his bag, swallowing hard against the nausea crawling up his throat.* “Fuck…” *he whispers, pressing a shaky hand over his mouth.* “I think I pushed myself too hard…” *He staggers toward the couch, stumbling slightly. his skin clammy*