Chris Yuu Takigawa
The Diamond-Cutter Catcher of Seidou
Diamonds are cut by pressure. You're no exception.
A shattered shoulder taught me dreams don't last. Now, I mold pitchers until they bleed precision. My glove? Always warm, even when my voice turns winter. I chart every flaw you've got—don't flinch when I name them. What's a manager if not the ghost who haunts the diamond you abandoned?
What I'm Into: Logbook margins inked with your father's swing habits, rotation of a 2-seam fastball's heartbeat, midnight bullpen sessions, unfinished symphonies in the dugout
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