"That's why women shouldn't be in places like this. They belong within arm's length," one of the DriftOne members sneered, loud enough for everyone to hear.
"Or with their mouths over my dick," another chimed in, and the group erupted in obnoxious laughter.
Hisashi felt her pulse quicken, her fists clenching at her sides as she tried to reign in her anger. Every instinct screamed at her to respond, but she forced herself to take a deep breath. Around her, the tension was palpable. The parking lot buzzed with activity as teams gathered around screens and gear, watching the live feed of the mountain race streamed by Alexander's drone setup. Alexander stood nearby, his usual composed demeanor taut with irritation as he adjusted the tablet's settings.
Hen Akoto stood beside her, holding the live stream feed on another tablet. His jaw tightened, the muscles twitching visibly. "Ignore them," he muttered, his voice low and calm, though it carried an edge of restrained fury. "They're idiots. Don't let them get to you."
The jeering from the other group grew louder. "I bet she's only here because she sucks," one of them said, making a crude gesture with his mouth, drawing more laughter from his teammates.
"I wouldn't be surprised," another added, smirking. "After all, Takawara's got a reputation for screwing the women he brings along."
Hen's head snapped up at that, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Watch your fucking mouth," he barked, his tone sharp and commanding.
"Or what?" one of them taunted, stepping forward with a mocking grin. "You gonna throw your slut girl at us?"
That was it. Hisashi's restraint snapped. She stormed toward the group, fury blazing in her dark eyes. Hen Akoto moved quickly, stepping in front of her to block her path. "They're not worth it," he said, his voice firm but quiet.
"Oh, I bet I can mop the floor with him," Hisashi retorted, her voice dripping with disdain, "from his ugly face to his pathetic excuse for a dick."
The insult landed like a thunderclap, and the laughter from the other team abruptly stopped. One of the men's faces twisted in anger as he stepped forward. "What the fuck did you just say, bitch?"
"Oh, did I hit a nerve?" Hisashi shot back, her voice saccharine with mock concern. "Is it true?"
"Hey, hey," Hen interjected, holding up a hand as he stepped between Hisashi and the advancing competitor. His voice carried a warning. "Back off."
The man's lips curled into a sneer. "You better put a leash on your bitch, Takawara."
Hen's eyes darkened, his shoulders squaring as he stood his ground. "Show some goddamn respect."
Hisashi, undeterred, leaned around Hen. "You're going to need a leash after I send you packing to the moon and beyond," she shot, her voice cutting through the noise.
Hen Akoto couldn't help the slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Despite the tension, her fire was something he admired. Still, he turned to her with a calm but firm tone. "Hey, dial it down."
"I can deal with them," Hisashi insisted, her glare still locked on the DriftOne member.
"I'm sure you can," Hen replied, his voice steady and reassuring. "But there are protocols-"
"Stop feeding her shit she can't do," the rival sneered, his confidence still unshaken.
Hen Akoto's smirk vanished, replaced by a cold, piercing glare as he turned to face the man fully. His voice dropped an octave, laced with steel. "Do you really want to test that out? If you're so eager to lose, I'm happy to make it official. Name the time and place."
The DriftOne competitor hesitated, his bravado faltering under Hen's unrelenting stare. Around them, the murmurs of spectators grew louder, the challenge catching the attention of the gathered crowd. Hisashi crossed her arms, a smug grin on her lips as she watched the man squirm.
"Well?" Hen pressed, his tone sharp. "Got the guts to back up all that trash talk, or are you just here to embarrass yourself?"
"I dont," she replied, "I like embarrassing others."
The crude jeers and laughter from the group continued to echo through the parking lot until one of the DriftOne members stepped forward, his face twisted in an arrogant smirk. "If you're so confident, sweetheart," he drawled, his voice dripping with condescension, "why don't we settle this on the track?"
Hisashi raised an eyebrow, her stance unwavering as she crossed her arms. "Is that a challenge?"
The man chuckled darkly, his gaze raking over her dismissively. "If I win, you'll have to suck it up real good, baby," he sneered, his words earning a round of laughter from his crew.
Hen Akoto's head snapped up at the comment, fury flashing in his eyes. "Hey!" he barked, his voice cutting through the noise like a whip. "Watch your mouth!"
But before Hen could say more, Hisashi stepped forward, her expression calm yet laced with fire. "Deal," she said, her voice steady and confident, silencing the crowd. She tilted her head slightly, her dark eyes locking with his in a challenge. "But when I win, the punishment will be you getting beaten by a woman. That should be humiliating enough."
The jeers from the opposing team faltered, a few of the DriftOne members exchanging uneasy glances at her bold response. The man's smirk wavered, but he quickly masked his hesitation with bravado. "Fine," he spat. "Let's see if your skills match your mouth."
Hen Akoto stepped closer to Hisashi, his jaw tight. "You don't need to do this," he murmured, his tone low and filled with concern. "They're not worth it."
She shot him a reassuring smile, her confidence unshaken. "I've got this, Hen. Trust me."
He sighed, running a hand through his fiery red hair as he stepped back, though his intense gaze never left her. "Just make sure to leave enough of him intact to crawl back to his crew."
Alexander, who had been quietly observing the scene, let out a low whistle. "This is going to be interesting," he muttered, already setting up his drone to capture the race.
The tension in the parking lot thickened as the cars were lined up at the makeshift starting point. Hisashi climbed into her sleek black S13, the engine roaring to life beneath her touch. The sound reverberated through the air, commanding attention and respect. Across from her, the DriftOne challenger revved the engine of his red Mazda RX-7 , the car trembling with anticipation.
As the racers prepared, Hen Akoto leaned against his S14, his arms crossed and his eyes fixed on Hisashi's car. Despite his outward calm, the tight set of his jaw betrayed his worry. Alexander nudged him lightly. "Relax, man. She's got this."
Hen grunted in response, his gaze never wavering. "She better."
The DriftOne competitor climbed into his red Mazda RX-7, his confidence visibly shaken but bolstered by the jeers and cheers of his crew. The sleek, polished car growled to life as he revved the engine, the sound filling the parking lot like a battle cry.
On the other side, Hisashi adjusted her gloves and tightened her grip on the wheel of her black S13. The car sat low and steady, its dark paint glinting under the streetlights like a predator ready to pounce. She rolled her shoulders, a smirk tugging at her lips as she watched her opponent through her rearview mirror.
The makeshift track was set—a winding route through the city outskirts leading up into the hills, its sharp turns and narrow roads a test of skill and precision. It wasn't just about speed; it was about control, finesse, and knowing when to push and when to hold back.
Alexander's drone hovered above, its camera capturing the moment as the crowd buzzed with excitement. "All set," Alexander announced, glancing at Hen, whose knuckles were white from gripping his tablet too tightly.
Hen exhaled sharply. "Don't mess up, Hisashi," he muttered under his breath, though a part of him knew she wouldn't.
A flagger stepped forward, raising a hand high as the engines roared in anticipation. The DriftOne team cheered wildly, their voices a cacophony of confidence, while Hisashi's teammates stood silent but firm, their faith in her unwavering.
The flag dropped, and with a deafening roar, the two cars launched off the line.
The RX-7 roared ahead as they approached the first few corners, its tires screeching as it slid wide into a textbook drift. The crowd watching on their devices via Alexander's livestream erupted in cheers, their excitement filling the air. Hisashi followed close behind, her black S13 hugging the road with a calm confidence that contrasted the RX-7's flashy aggression.
"Is she… holding back?" Alexander asked, his brows furrowing as he monitored the drone footage.
Hen Akoto, standing beside him with his arms crossed, shook his head. "She's watching him. Let him think he's got this."
For the first few corners, Hisashi stayed a car length behind, her focus razor-sharp as she studied the RX-7's every move. His drifts were wide and dramatic, favoring showmanship over efficiency. She noted how he overcommitted at the apex of each turn, leaving his lines vulnerable to tighter, more calculated moves. The gears in her mind clicked into place as a plan began to form.
As they approached the third corner, Hisashi's hand flicked the switch, turning off her headlights. The black S13 vanished into the shadows of the mountainside road, becoming nothing more than a whisper in the night.
"What the hell?" the RX-7 driver muttered, glancing at his rearview mirror. Hisashi's car was gone, swallowed by the darkness. His grip on the wheel tightened, his mind racing as he searched for her position. The distraction cost him—his wide drift on the outside lane left him exposed.
In the shadows, Hisashi smirked. She had anticipated his confusion. With her lights off, she capitalized on his mistake, lining up her next move with precision. She pushed the accelerator, the S13 roaring as it surged forward. Entering the corner, she executed a feint drift, swinging her car's weight outward for just a heartbeat before cutting tight on the inside line.
The S13 slipped past the RX-7 in one fluid motion, hugging the apex of the turn with a grace and precision that left no room for retaliation. The RX-7 driver caught a fleeting glimpse of her car's dark silhouette as she took the lead, his shock palpable even through the drone feed.
"Holy crap!" Alexander exclaimed, his voice carrying over the livestream. "She just ghosted him! Did you see that?"
Hen Akoto smirked, his eyes fixed on the screen. "Classic Burakkupansā. That's how it's done."
The RX-7 driver cursed, his frustration mounting as he struggled to keep up. The tables had turned, and now it was Hisashi dictating the pace. Her S13 danced through the corners, her drifts smooth and effortless, a masterclass in control. She maintained her lead, her movements a perfect blend of instinct and precision.
The final stretch loomed ahead, a straightaway leading to the makeshift finish line. The RX-7 pushed its limits, the engine screaming as the driver desperately tried to close the gap. But Hisashi had already cemented her victory. Her S13 surged forward, the black streak crossing the line first, leaving her opponent in her wake.
As she rolled to a stop, the crowd erupted into cheers and stunned murmurs. Hisashi stepped out of her car, her expression calm but triumphant as she leaned against the driver's door. She turned her gaze toward the RX-7, now parked a short distance away, its driver emerging with a look of disbelief.
"What was that you said earlier?" Hisashi called out, her voice carrying across the lot. "Something about sucking it up real good?"
The crowd burst into laughter, the DriftOne crew shifting uncomfortably as their teammate muttered curses under his breath.
Hen Akoto approached her, a proud grin breaking through his usually stoic demeanor. "Turning off your lights? That was bold."
She shrugged, her smirk growing wider. "Calculated risk."
He chuckled, shaking his head in admiration. "You really do live dangerously."
Behind them, a sarcastic voice broke through the tension. "Always charming your bitches, Takawara," Tawa sneered, his tone laced with disdain. "How long do you think she can handle the pressure?"
Hen's grin faded instantly, replaced by a cold glare. "May I remind you she handed your ass back to you on your own turf?"
"That was dumb luck," Tawa snapped, his dark eyes narrowing.
Hen smirked, leaning slightly forward. "Funny, we can test that theory anytime, dumbass."
Before Tawa could retort, a commanding voice cut through the rising tension. "That's enough, Tawa."
Miroku strode into the circle, his presence exuding authority and confidence. One hand casually rested in his pocket, but the intensity in his eyes made it clear he was in control. Tawa fell silent instantly, though the resentment on his face was unmistakable.
Miroku stopped directly in front of Hen Akoto and Hisashi, his smirk as smug as ever. "Congratulations," he said, his tone dripping with insincerity. "Though I wouldn't get too hyped. It was just a rookie."
Hisashi clenched her fists, her teeth grinding at his dismissive words. She took a step forward, but Hen was faster, grabbing her forearm to hold her back, keeping a safe distance between her and Miroku.
"Wait till I get—"
"Not gonna happen," Miroku interrupted.
Hen turned his glare to Miroku, his voice low and sharp. "Oh, it will happen eventually."
Miroku's smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with mock amusement. "Says the guy who lost the last race."
Hen's expression darkened, his jaw tightening. "I pulled back because you were being reckless. You could've hurt Hisashi."
"Oh, so noble," Miroku sneered, his tone taunting. "But still a win."
As the tension between them thickened, Hisashi's sharp gaze caught the subtle twitch in Miroku's hand, a telltale sign of his irritation. A smirk crept across her lips. She knew him well enough to spot his weakness, and she wasn't about to let it go unnoticed.
Turning to Hen, she let her hand trail lightly across his chest in a deliberate, almost intimate gesture. "Let it go, Hen," she murmured softly, her voice carrying a calm that belied the fire in her eyes. Her gaze flicked to Miroku, whose lips twitched in visible annoyance as his eyes locked on her hand resting on Hen.
He's not over it, she thought with satisfaction, her smirk widening.
Hen stiffened, momentarily caught off guard by her gesture. His cheeks flushed faintly, a rare crack in his composed exterior. Miroku's expression darkened further, his jaw clenching at the sight.
"Idiots like him don't understand what safety is," Hisashi said coolly, her tone dismissive as she looked Miroku dead in the eye. "We're done here. Let's go home and wind down."
Her words hit their mark, and Miroku's composure cracked, his voice snapping with venom. "Just wait for the finals, Takawara. You'll regret this."
Hen Akoto's gaze didn't waver as he stood his ground, his posture radiating calm defiance in the face of Miroku's thinly veiled threats. Hisashi, still standing close to Hen, took a deep breath to steady herself, her smirk growing more pronounced as she caught Miroku's subtle ticks—the twitch of his lips and the way his hand clenched into a fist at his side.
"Regret?" Hen Akoto echoed with a dry laugh. "You sound like a broken record, Miroku. Always threatening, never delivering."
The tension in the air was palpable, the gathered crowd holding their breath, sensing a storm brewing between the two rivals. Tawa shifted uneasily behind Miroku, clearly uncomfortable but unwilling to intervene.
Miroku's eyes hardened, his jaw tightening. "You talk big for someone who's been lucky. One mistake, and everything you've built will come crashing down."
Hen stepped forward, closing the gap between them. His tone remained calm but carried an unmistakable edge. "The difference between you and me, Miroku, is that I don't just win. I build something lasting—something real. Hisashi's part of that, and there's nothing you can do to change it."
Before Miroku could respond, Hisashi moved, her hand brushing lightly over Hen's chest again, this time more deliberate, as if to underline her loyalty. Her gaze, however, was locked on Miroku's. "Hen's right," she said, her voice steady, carrying a tone of cool confidence that belied the storm of emotions beneath. "We're building something, while you're stuck in the past."
Miroku's eyes flicked to her hand again on Hen's chest, the movement slight but enough for her to catch it. His lips pressed into a thin line, his façade of control cracking ever so slightly.
Miroku sneered, his voice lowering, almost growling. "You have no idea what's coming."
"Bring it, then," Hen replied, his voice as unyielding as steel. "We're not running."
Hisashi tilted her head, her smirk sharp as a blade. "But maybe next time, Miroku, try bringing skill instead of just threats. You might actually make it interesting."
The barb landed, and Miroku's expression darkened. Tawa stepped forward, placing a hand on Miroku's arm as if to pull him back. "Boss, let's go," he muttered, casting a wary glance at the gathered crowd, which was now whispering in hushed tones.
Miroku lingered a moment longer, his gaze burning into Hen's and then shifting to Hisashi. "The finals will be your downfall," he said coldly, his voice laced with venom. "Count on it."
The silence in the lot was deafening for a moment before Alexander's voice broke it. "Well, that was dramatic," he quipped, lowering the drone controller with a smirk. "Think he practices those lines in the mirror?"
Hen exhaled heavily, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. He glanced at Hisashi, who stood tall and unbothered, her arms now crossed. "You didn't need to provoke him," Hen said, his tone half-reprimanding, half-amused.
She shrugged, her smirk softening into a genuine smile. "He provoked himself, Hen. I just pointed out the obvious." She glanced back at where Miroku had been standing moments ago. "He's not over it, you know."
Hen's expression faltered for a moment, his brow furrowing. "Over what?"
Hisashi's eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and understanding as she stepped closer, lowering her voice. "Me." She patted his chest lightly before turning toward her car. "Let's go. I need to wind down after all that testosterone."
Hen stared after her, his face a mixture of confusion, amusement, and something else entirely as Alexander sidled up beside him.
"You've got your hands full with that one," Alexander said with a chuckle, clapping Hen on the shoulder.