Chapter One

Eighteen Years Later

June 2019

The soft glow of streetlights illuminated the city streets as she navigated her car through the bustling traffic. The rhythm of the city pulsed around her, a symphony of honking horns and distant sirens. The night breeze gently brushed against her face, carrying with it the scent of asphalt and exhaust fumes.

Ring Ring

Inside the car, the dashboard's panel displayed the name "Uncle Mo" flashing on the screen. Her keen eyes quickly glanced at it before returning to the road ahead. She reached out with her left hand, her fingers finding the familiar buttons on the steering wheel, and pressed the one to answer the call. A warm voice belonging to her uncle boomed through the speakers, enveloping the car's interior with familiarity and affection.

"Aein!" Uncle Mo's voice boomed in the speakers of my car.

"Yo," she simply answer, as she makes a right turn.

"Did you finish delivering?" he asked.

"Yup, they were rather," she looked to the side she change lanes." Gropey."

Uncle Mo chuckled. "They paid twice for you to deliver it."

She glared at the screen even though i knew he wouldn't see it. "You're so considerate."

"The guys love the food and they love your shirt at the restaurant."

"Uncle MO!"

"Chillax, I'm messing with you," He said, but she knew he must be grinning madly, as usual. " I have another delivery for 1 am. No gropey thing this time. Think you can make it?"

"I'm nearby already." Just as she said that,she heard an engine revving up down the road.

"Neat!" Uncle Mo said gratefully, "Ill wait for you here, ready. Be safe Hisashi!"

The call ended with a soft click. " Jeez Mo, you'll pay for the gropey part."

As Hisashi turned right, she glimpsed the city's skyline in the distance. The tall buildings stood like giants, their illuminated windows creating a captivating spectacle against the night sky. The traffic flow dictated the pace of the journey, a steady ebb and flow that seemed to have a rhythm of its own. Her thoughts drifted back to the past, memories of her family filling her mind. She remembered her father's untimely passing and the subsequent move to Kitasakura with her mother, where she eventually remarried. The flashback revealed tender moments spent with her uncle, Kumoku, during summers, seeking comfort and guidance in his loving presence.

Hisashi Jung Tsuchiya, aged 26, stood at the crossroads of a life woven with both sorrow and cherished connections. At the tender age of four, her mother and father split, creating a disruption between them because of her father's career. Her mother found solace in the arms of Neil Yamauchi, which soon became her new husband. Their familial journey took a poignant turn when Hisashi's father passed away unexpectedly at thirteen. The absence of his biological father left a void that Uncle Kumoku bravely stepped in to fill, becoming a pillar of guidance and love.

As adolescence beckoned, a rebellious spirit simmered within Hisashi, leading to tumultuous clashes with her mother. Yet, amidst the turmoil, summers spent with Kumoku offered refuge in the premises of her diseased father's house, where Hisashi found solace in his uncle's unwavering affection. However, fate dealt a harsh blow when, at sixteen, circumstances severed ties between Hisashi and her family, leading her to seek sanctuary within her uncle's home, bidding farewell to her mother.

Aimi, Kumoku's wife, brought warmth and light into their lives, her radiant presence illuminating their shared journey. Fate intervened in the bustling streets, uniting Kumoku and Aimi on a culinary adventure that led them to each other's hearts. Despite dreams of starting a family, Aimi's infertility dashed their hopes. Undeterred, they poured their love into their restaurant, nurturing it as their cherished "child."

In Hisashi, they found a surrogate for their unfulfilled dreams of parenthood. Embraced by their love, she found solace and acceptance, leaving behind the scars of her past for a fresh start. Tragically, Aimi's life ended short by cancer three years ago, yet her legacy lived on in the restaurant they lovingly tended.

Through adversity, Hisashi and Kumoku persevered, honoring Aimi's memory by continuing to run the restaurant with unwavering dedication. In their shared grief, they found strength forging ahead, knowing that their bond, though tested, remained unbreakable.

Hisashi possesses an aura of quiet confidence and understated elegance. With a slender yet athletic build, her features are delicate and refined, with high cheekbones and a softly sculpted jawline that lends her an air of timeless beauty.

Her eyes, a captivating shade of dark brown, are windows to her soul, often reflecting a depth of emotion and intelligence. Framed by long, thick lashes, they hold a subtle sparkle that hints at her inner fire and determination.

Hisashi's hair, a lustrous cascade of ebony waves, falls in loose curls around her shoulders, adding to her allure. She often wears it swept back from her face, allowing her natural beauty to shine through.

The night air crackled with tension as the two engines roared to life behind her, drawing closer with each passing second. Before she could even glance to her left rearview mirror, one car sped past her with lightning speed, leaving a trail of adrenaline in its wake. In that reckless maneuver, the yellow Nissan 180sx scratched her left rearview mirror and cracked its glass, leaving a mark of careless aggression on her precious black Nissan S13.

Anger surged through her veins like a wild torrent, her grip on the steering wheel tightening with every ounce of frustration. "You fucking bastard!" she screamed in rage, the words escaping her lips as a raw cry of indignation. Her heart pounded like a war drum, drowning out the surrounding sounds of the city's nightlife.

This car was not just any car; it held sentimental value beyond measure. Aimi and Kumoku had gifted it to her for her college graduation, a symbol of love and encouragement for her passion for racing. Originally belonging to her father, and Kumoku had poured his heart into customizing it, making it more than just a car but a reflection of his artistry and craftsmanship. It was her sanctuary, the place where she let go of her fears and problems, and now it bore the scars of some reckless, inexperienced punk who lacked the respect for the road.

Kumoku's voice resonated in her mind, his words a reminder of the values he had instilled in her. "I know it's tempting to race out in the street, especially when punks taunt one another. But let me tell you this, if you ever feel like kicking someone's ass, do it for a reason, not for show." Those words echoed with wisdom, urging her to rise above the provocation and seek a higher purpose in her actions.

But in that moment, her anger consumed her, the desire for retribution surging like a tidal wave. "You want to race, punk?" she challenged, her voice low and determined as she glared at the center rearview mirror. The clock on the screen reminded her of the time - 11:58 pm. With just minutes to spare, she decided, her resolve unwavering.

"I'll show you how to race." Her voice was now laced with determination, and with a powerful rev of her engine, she shifted gears, propelling herself forward to catch up to the cars that had dared to disrespect her sanctuary. The asphalt stretched ahead like a battleground, and she was ready to defend what was hers.

As she closed in on the offenders, a storm brewed within her, a mix of anger, determination, and a thirst for justice. The race was on, and with the city's streets as the backdrop, she was about to show the true meaning of skill, control, and the purpose behind every turn of the wheel. The night was young, and the race had just begun.