"To our new member Hisashi!"
Alexander's voice rang out, glasses clinking together in a celebratory toast. Laughter erupted around the table as a bit of liquid spilled from their cups.
"Who amazes me every day," Alexander continued, grinning, "and glorifies us by putting competition where it belongs."
"Behind my taillights," Hisashi quipped confidently, eliciting another round of laughter from the group.
After her unexpected match and her flawless victory, the team was eager to celebrate. The club buzzed with life, neon lights casting vibrant colors over the sleek, modern interior. Lively chatter mingled with the bass-heavy music, creating an atmosphere of excitement.
Hisashi arrived, turning heads with her striking appearance. She wore a sleek black dress that hugged her curves with a precision that was both sophisticated and alluring. The high neckline drew attention to her slender neck, while a subtle keyhole detail hinted at the softness beneath. The dress's bare back and strategic cutouts revealed just enough skin to captivate without giving everything away. The fabric's movement suggested a graceful confidence, accentuated by the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra—a detail Hen Akoto couldn't help but notice.
Her platform-heeled boots added an edgy flair to her outfit, while a small purse dangled from her hand, completing her ensemble. Her hair, pinned into a soft bun with delicate strands framing her face, lent her an air of understated elegance.
Hen Akoto, leaning casually against the bar, felt his breath catch when she stepped into view. His gaze lingered, tracing the contours of her silhouette and the way the dress flowed seamlessly over her form. The smooth expanse of her back held him captivated, the bare skin a striking contrast against the fabric. The realization that she wasn't wearing a bra struck him like a jolt, and his thoughts spiraled in ways he tried to suppress.
For a moment, their eyes met. Hisashi's knowing glance carried a spark of mischief, as though she was fully aware of the effect she was having on him. The unspoken tension simmered in the air, electric and undeniable.
Caught off guard, Hen quickly averted his gaze, fumbling for composure. He glanced down at his drink, but the memory of her figure etched itself into his mind.
Alexander, ever observant, leaned closer with a sly grin. "How's Mr. Beast doing?"
Hen snapped out of his reverie, startled by the question. "What?" he asked, his tone sharper than he intended.
Alexander chuckled, clearly amused. "You've been staring for so long you practically drilled a hole in her dress."
Hen glared at him, his jaw tightening in embarrassment. "Shut up," he muttered, lifting his drink to mask his discomfort.
As the night wore on, Hisashi found herself feeling slightly out of place. The only girl in a circle of her teammates, she nursed her drink, barely touching it. She let out a quiet sigh of relief when a few other women arrived, likely girlfriends or partners of the other racers.
Hen Akoto slid into the seat beside her, leaning in slightly. His voice, low and teasing, carried a subtle undertone that sent a shiver up her spine. "That dress," he said, his tone laced with admiration. "It's tempting, especially from behind."
Hisashi raised an eyebrow, a playful smile curling her lips. "Enough for you?" she teased, her eyes sparkling with challenge.
Hen coughed, nearly choking on his drink. He wasn't used to being on the receiving end of such banter, especially not from someone like her. He composed himself quickly, a grin spreading across his face. "More than enough," he admitted, their gazes locking in an unspoken exchange.
Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she looked down, her playful demeanor softening into something warmer. But before the moment could linger, Hen's phone buzzed, interrupting their connection. Excusing himself, he stepped away to take the call.
Feeling slightly out of place again, Hisashi excused herself, leaving her drink untouched on the table. As she walked down the hallway, her steps faltered. Near the entrance, Hen Akoto stood, engaged in conversation with a captivating blonde woman.
The woman's golden hair cascaded over her shoulders, her piercing blue eyes glittering under the club's neon lights. She leaned in close to Hen, her finger tracing a playful line across his chest.
A pang of something sharp twisted in Hisashi's chest. Her rational mind told her it was nothing, yet jealousy and insecurity gnawed at her thoughts. Could she really compete with someone so effortlessly magnetic?
She shook her head, pushing the doubts away. Rose had warned her about this, about Hen's natural charm and the way women gravitated toward him. This was just how he was. Still, the scene left her uneasy.
Determined to clear her head, Hisashi continued down the hallway toward the bathroom, leaving the tension—and her conflicted feelings—behind her.
_________
Hen Akoto's patience was wearing thin, but he forced himself to stay composed as Meg lingered beside him, her presence heavy with unspoken tension. Her gaze followed his, sharp and questioning, and it was clear she wasn't going to let the topic drop easily.
"Why are you here, Meg?" he asked, his voice carrying a weariness he didn't bother to hide.
"The girls mentioned you were here," Meg replied, brushing a strand of golden hair over her shoulder, her tone light but her eyes sharp. "So, I thought I'd join you."
Hen sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wasn't in the mood for this. "What's wrong?" she pressed, her voice softening just enough to hint at concern, though her curiosity was far from innocent.
"Nothing," Hen muttered, his tone clipped. He avoided her gaze, shifting uncomfortably under the weight of her scrutiny. His thoughts were a mess, tangled with the lingering image of Hisashi and the complicated feelings that came with it.
Meg's lips pursed, unconvinced. "Have you been avoiding me?" she asked, her words probing and her expression tinged with both hurt and suspicion.
Hen shook his head, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Of course not," he replied, trying to sound casual. "I've just been busy. Racing season's picking up." The excuse felt flimsy even as he said it, but he hoped it would be enough to deflect her questions.
Meg's brow furrowed. "You used to make time for us, even when you were busy," she pointed out, her voice edged with disappointment.
"It's just the boys," Hen said quickly, his tone defensive. He shifted in his seat, glancing toward the hallway Hisashi had disappeared down. His chest tightened as he recalled the fleeting look on her face, the way she'd avoided his gaze. He couldn't ignore how it had made him feel—guilty, protective, and confused all at once.
As if on cue, Hisashi emerged from the hallway. Her composure was intact, but Hen noticed the slight tension in her shoulders, the way she avoided looking in his direction. It was a subtle shift, but it hit him harder than he expected. Hisashi then walked into the room the team crew was and sat at the back
Meg's gaze followed his, her lips tightening into a thin line. "Who is she?" she asked, her voice laced with irritation.
"She's a team member," Hen replied, keeping his tone even. "We're having a team gathering, that's all." His words were measured, but his mind raced, trying to keep the situation from spiraling out of control.
Meg crossed her arms, her annoyance clear. "You're acting like there's something going on," she accused, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized him.
Hen's frustration flared, and he exhaled sharply. "There's nothing going on, Meg," he said firmly. "Just… don't make this a thing, okay?"
The words sounded final, but they didn't ease the weight in his chest. He knew there was more to it—something he couldn't admit, even to himself. Hisashi's presence stirred something in him that he couldn't ignore, a pull that left him questioning everything.
Meg glared at him for a moment longer before sighing in resignation. "Fine," she muttered, turning on her heel and heading back toward the bar. Her frustration was palpable, but Hen couldn't bring himself to care. His mind was elsewhere.
As the tension between him and Meg dissipated, Hen let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. His gaze shifted back to Hisashi, who was now seated with the team, her laughter mixing with the lively chatter around her. The sight of her brought a bittersweet pang to his chest.
Hen leaned against the wall, running a hand through his hair. The weight of his emotions pressed down on him, and for the first time in a long while, he felt completely unmoored. Hisashi had a way of throwing him off balance, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to regain his footing.
___________
The celebration continued in full swing, the lively music and bursts of laughter creating an intoxicating energy. Hisashi, however, remained detached, seated quietly as she scrolled through her phone. The glow of the screen illuminated her face, her expression serene yet distant, as though her mind was elsewhere.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed a woman approaching—a striking figure in a royal blue dress that clung to her curves with effortless confidence. The woman moved with a deliberate grace, her heels clicking softly against the floor as she settled into the seat beside Hisashi. The shift in the atmosphere was immediate, a subtle tension that prickled at Hisashi's awareness.
"Are you the new member?" the woman asked, her voice smooth yet tinged with an edge that hinted at her intent.
Hisashi looked up, her eyes meeting the woman's with calm composure. "I am," she replied, her tone neutral as she assessed the stranger. "And you?"
"I'm Meg," the woman introduced herself, her name dripping with self-assurance. There was no mistaking her purpose; Meg's gaze was sharp, scanning Hisashi as though trying to uncover a weakness.
Hisashi remained polite but guarded, her phone now resting on the table as she shifted her full attention to Meg. This wasn't a casual conversation—it was an interrogation cloaked in civility.
Meg leaned in slightly, lowering her voice so that only Hisashi could hear. "Don't get your hopes up with Hen," she began, her tone carrying a mix of jealousy and condescension. "He's great for a fling, but that's all he's ever been. If you're expecting more, you're wasting your time."
Hisashi's expression didn't waver, though the bluntness of Meg's comment sent a ripple of irritation through her. Instead of reacting, she let the words hang in the air, her silence a calculated response.
Meg, emboldened by what she perceived as hesitation, continued. "We've had our thing," she said, her lips curving into a sly smile. "Intense, passionate… but he always comes back to me. He can't help it."
Hisashi's calm demeanor remained, though her gaze sharpened, cutting through Meg's facade. She saw the insecurity masked by the woman's confident veneer, the desperation behind the territorial act. Hisashi had dealt with people like Meg before, and she knew better than to let such provocations rattle her.
After a moment, Hisashi spoke, her voice steady and measured. "I know who Hen is," she said, her words deliberate. "And I don't chase after people who don't want to be caught."
The simple statement hit its mark, and Meg's smile faltered, her composure slipping ever so slightly. "You say that now," Meg pressed, her voice hardening. "But trust me, he'll get bored. He always does."
Hisashi's patience was thinning, but she refused to let her annoyance show. "If that's true," she replied, her gaze unwavering, "then I'll handle it when the time comes. But I don't base my choices on someone else's insecurities."
The firmness in Hisashi's tone left no room for argument. Her unshakable confidence clearly unnerved Meg, who shifted in her seat, her once-dominant posture now uneasy. This wasn't the reaction she had anticipated; Hisashi wasn't flustered or threatened—she was steadfast, and it left Meg at a loss.
"Look," Meg tried again, her tone softening, though the bitterness lingered. "I'm just trying to warn you. He's not the kind of guy who sticks around."
Hisashi stood, her movements calm and deliberate as she picked up her purse. She turned to Meg one final time, her voice steady but edged with finality. "I appreciate the warning, but I'm perfectly capable of looking out for myself," she said. "Nice meeting you, Meg."
With that, Hisashi walked away, her steps measured and confident as she left the tension behind. Relief washed over her as she put distance between herself and the encounter. Meg's attempt to rattle her had failed, and Hisashi felt a quiet pride in the way she had handled the situation—with grace, strength, and unyielding composure.
Hen Akoto noticed the movement and was perplexed to see Hisashi leaving the room, while Meg remained seated on the sofa, her expression cool and unbothered. His expression quickly shifted to a glare as he approached the blonde, a wave of frustration building inside him.
"What did you say?" Hen Akoto asked, his tone sharp as he loomed over Meg.
"Not much," Meg replied calmly, her nonchalant demeanor only fueling Hen Akoto's irritation.
He sighed in frustration, his patience wearing thin. With a sharp motion, he slammed his beer down on the table, the sound echoing through the room. "Thank you for not listening," he said, his voice laced with sarcasm, before turning on his heel and following Hisashi outside.
The night air was cool as Hen Akoto stepped out, his eyes scanning the sidewalk until he spotted her. Hisashi stood a few feet away, her purse dangling from her hand, her gaze fixed on the night sky. The soft glow of streetlights cast a gentle shadow on her face, but the tension in her posture was unmistakable.
"Hisashi," he called out, approaching her cautiously. She cast a glance in his direction, a blend of boredom and hurt evident in her eyes that made his chest tighten.
"Are you okay? Need a ride home?" he asked, his voice gentler now, laced with concern.
"I'm fine," Hisashi replied, her tone clipped, her gaze still fixed skyward.
"Listen, if Meg said—"
"Meg was very clear," Hisashi interrupted, her voice calm but tinged with a resigned weariness. "You're free to flirt, to have your flings, and moments of hot sex." She finally turned to face him, her eyes locking onto his with a piercing clarity that made him feel exposed.
Hen Akoto opened his mouth to protest, to explain, but the words stuck in his throat. "It's not like that—" he began, but Hisashi cut him off again, her voice steady and unwavering.
"But dont push all the shitshow to me. Action do convey a message. Make sure you communicate the right one because clearly Meg doesnt know."
He was speechless, grappling with a whirlwind of emotions he couldn't quite decipher. The intensity of her gaze, the raw honesty in her words, left him feeling exposed, as if she had peeled back the layers he had carefully constructed around himself.
Hen Akoto struggled to find the right words, his mind racing. "Hisashi, it's not just—" he started, but the look in her eyes silenced him.
Hisashi held his gaze for a long moment, the silence between them heavy with unspoken thoughts and unresolved tension. Finally, she sighed, her expression softening just a fraction. "Hen, I can play games," she said quietly. "But if is just a one night thing to you, tell me now. I need to know."
Hen Akoto's heart pounded in his chest, the realization of what was at stake dawning on him. This wasn't just about the kiss or the fleeting moments of attraction—they were standing on the precipice of something more, something that required honesty and vulnerability.
"I'm not playing games," Hen Akoto finally managed to say, his voice firm but tinged with a vulnerability that surprised even him. "I don't want this to be just a fling, Hisashi. I'm trying to figure out what it means to me, too."
Hisashi studied him, her expression thoughtful, as if weighing his words. The tension in her posture eased slightly, though the guarded look in her eyes remained. "Then figure it out," she said softly, her tone not unkind. "But don't string everyone along while you do."
Silence lingered between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts and emotions. Hen Akoto felt a chill settle in his stomach, the weight of Hisashi's words sinking in. He couldn't shake the sense that something vital was slipping through his fingers, something he wasn't sure he could grasp again if it slipped away.
The sound of an engine approaching pulled him from his thoughts. A sleek purple R66 Skyline pulled up beside them, its polished exterior gleaming under the streetlights. Hen Akoto's gaze lingered on the car, noting the care and attention that had gone into maintaining it. The windows rolled down, revealing a man with light brown skin and a square pair of glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. His gray eyes gleamed as he looked out at them, and Hen Akoto couldn't help but notice the man's imposing size. He wore a large black shirt emblazoned with the words "Not Today," and his black hair was styled in a contemporary afro atop his head, a short beard adding to the strong lines of his jaw.
"Hisashi?" the man called out, his voice carrying a hint of familiarity and concern.
Hisashi sighed, her expression weary as she turned towards the car. The tension between her and Hen Akoto was palpable, an invisible thread stretched taut between them. She glanced at Hen one last time, her eyes reflecting the hurt and uncertainty she felt.
Without another word, Hisashi opened the car door and slipped inside, her movements deliberate and final. The door closed with a solid thunk, a sound that seemed to echo in the stillness of the night. Hen Akoto watched, his mind swirling with questions and doubts, as the car began to pull away.
The man behind the wheel gave Hen Akoto a measured look, as if assessing the situation before turning his attention back to the road. The Skyline's engine purred as it smoothly accelerated, carrying Hisashi away from him and into the night.
As the car disappeared from view, Hen Akoto felt a sense of loss settle over him. The night air hung heavy with uncertainty, the quiet hum of the city around him doing little to soothe the storm of emotions raging inside. He replayed her words in his mind, over and over, the reality of what she'd said hitting him harder with each repetition.
Standing alone on the empty street, Hen Akoto knew he had to make a decision. Hisashi had made it clear where she stood, and now it was up to him to figure out where he stood in all of this. The question wasn't just about what he wanted—it was about whether he was willing to take the risk of stepping into something deeper, something more real than what he was used to.
As the wind picked up, Hen Akoto shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling the cool air bite at his skin. He had never felt so conflicted, so unsure of his next move. But one thing was certain—he couldn't afford to ignore the feelings stirring within him.
With a heavy heart and a mind full of uncertainty, Hen Akoto turned and slowly made his way back to the gathering, his thoughts lingering on the woman who had just driven away and the crossroads he now found himself standing at.