Natsumi Raimon - Inazuma Eleven

The late afternoon sun, a hazy golden orb, cast long shadows across the immaculate Raimon soccer field. Natsumi Raimon, her impossibly long, raven hair cascading down her back like a silken waterfall, stood at the edge of the pitch, a faint smile playing on her lips. The air was thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the distant hum of cicadas, a familiar symphony of a summer that was slowly, reluctantly, giving way to autumn.