Chapter 20

Hen Akoto sank into his gaming chair with a deep sigh, the soft leather molding to his tired frame like a familiar embrace. He loosened his tie with a practiced flick of his wrist, the fabric slipping free and landing in a heap on the desk. His glasses followed shortly, set haphazardly on the keyboard, as he stretched his arms over his head. The low hum of his custom-built gaming PC filled the room, a comforting sound that signaled the beginning of his well-earned reprieve.

The faint glow of RGB lights illuminated the sleek setup around him, casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the walls. His fingers hovered over the mouse, the day's stress slowly evaporating as the world of reality began to blur into the pixelated landscapes he loved. Notifications blinked across the screen, messages from his gaming circle filling the chat box.

"Takawara's here. Game on, boys!"

"Prepare for a masterclass in domination."

"Bet he can't keep up this time!"

Hen chuckled, the banter pulling a grin to his face. He cracked his knuckles, ready to dive in, when something unusual caught his attention. Among the flurry of messages and friend requests was a name he hadn't expected to see: SawaBlack.

Hisashi's gamer tag.

The memory of their recent encounter at the tech store flickered in his mind—her playful demeanor, the pride in her voice when she shared her love for gaming. Hen's lips quirked into a soft smile as he clicked to send her a friend request. The thrill of a new challenge mixed with the quiet anticipation of reconnecting.

Her status showed her deep in Fallout 76, a game Hen knew well. The thought of exploring the vast wastelands together made his pulse quicken. His fingers hesitated over the keyboard before he typed out a message, laced with his characteristic charm:

"Do you want to set the world on fire?"

He hit send and leaned back, the words hanging in the digital void. Seconds stretched into what felt like minutes before her reply appeared:

"I just want to start a flame in your heart."

Hen's grin widened, her wit effortlessly matching his own. Before he could respond, another notification popped up:

SawaBlack is inviting you to play.

His heart skipped. With a swift click, he accepted, and the screen transitioned into the familiar post-apocalyptic world of Fallout 76. Hisashi's avatar, clad in rugged armor with a sniper rifle slung across her back, appeared nearby. Hen's own character, a leather-clad survivor with a scarred face, approached her, their avatars standing side by side against the desolate backdrop of the Wasteland.

"Ready to explore?" he typed, his excitement evident even in the simplicity of the message.

"Lead the way," came her reply, brief yet full of unspoken camaraderie.

Together, they navigated the game's treacherous terrain, scavenging for supplies and fending off hordes of mutated creatures. Hen marveled at her precision, her movements in the game fluid and strategic, her decisions quick yet thoughtful.

As the hours passed, the in-game world blurred into the background, their voices over the headset filling the void with laughter and playful jabs.

"Careful, that's a Deathclaw nest," Hen warned, his tone teasing.

"Don't worry," Hisashi shot back, her voice warm with confidence. "I've got better aim than you."

Hen laughed. "You wish."

Moments like these reminded him of why he loved gaming—not just for the adrenaline of the challenges, but for the bonds it forged. Hisashi, who had already intrigued him in the real world, now felt even closer as they shared victories and setbacks in the digital realm.

As the night deepened, Hen found himself glancing at the clock, surprised at how much time had passed. Yet, he didn't care. This wasn't just a game—it was an experience, a bridge between their worlds.

Before logging off, Hisashi typed one last message:

"Thanks for the run. Let's do it again soon, Takawara."

Hen leaned back in his chair, a contented smile lingering on his face. His response was simple, but it carried more weight than she might realize:

"Anytime, SawaBlack."

As the game's menu faded to black, Hen's thoughts lingered on her. The night had been more than a distraction; it had been the start of something he wasn't ready to let go of.

The metallic creak of the bench gave under Alexander's weight as he sat, tablet perched on his knee, scrolling with a practiced rhythm through maps, timestamps, and performance data. His face was calm but focused, the glow of the screen reflecting in his sharp eyes.

Hen Akoto approached, his crisp white button-up rolled to his elbows, revealing lean, tense forearms. His fiery red hair was loosely tied back, a few strands escaping to frame his face. Though his usual confidence was intact, there was an edge to his expression as he dropped into the seat beside Alexander.

"What's the situation?" Hen asked, his voice low but steady, the flicker of anticipation in his tone betraying his calm demeanor.

Alexander didn't immediately respond, his finger swiping over the screen to pull up a detailed map. He zoomed in on a cluster of highlighted zones near the city's industrial park and tilted the tablet toward Hen. "DriftOne's been active here," he explained, tapping at the map. "Abandoned lots, old warehouse roads. They're running tight, aggressive routes. This isn't casual practice—they're upping their game."

Hen leaned forward, his sharp eyes studying the zones marked on the map. His brow furrowed. "That area's rough," he said, his tone analytical. "Tight corners, uneven surfaces, limited visibility. It's not for rookies."

"Exactly," Alexander replied, his voice carrying a weight of warning. "They're pushing hard. Risky maneuvers, longer stints. They're making moves, staking their dominance."

Hen's jaw tightened, and a flicker of irritation crossed his face. "Classic DriftOne," he muttered. "They've always got something to prove."

Alexander smirked, leaning back slightly. "It's not just about proving a point," he countered. "It's about territory. They want everyone to know they're still on top."

Hen crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze narrowing on the map. "Have they breached our zones yet?"

"Not quite," Alexander replied, swiping the screen to reveal route overlays and timestamps. "But they're skirting the edges, testing us. It's a matter of time before they push."

Hen let out a slow breath, his expression darkening with thought. "We can't let them keep pushing. What's the plan?"

Alexander tilted his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. "That's where you come in. You've got the skill, the reputation. They respect you enough to take you seriously, and fear you enough to back off if we play this right."

Hen scoffed, shaking his head. "Flattery gets you everywhere, Alex. But it's not just about skill. If we're making a move, it needs to be smart. They'll retaliate."

"And that's why we've got an ace up our sleeve," Alexander replied smoothly, swiping to a new screen. A profile of Hisashi appeared, complete with stats, recent performances, and notes. "Her."

"She's as close as you Niko," he commented, "Once the season kicks in she'll be toppling over allot of the hollow competition."

"Well Im worried about Tawa's move." Hen Akoto leaned back against the bench, his fingers brushing over his chin thoughtfully. The tension in his expression mirrored the unease creeping into his mind. "Tawa's not the type to back down. If anything, Hisashi beating him has only fueled his ego. He'll try to prove something."

Alexander nodded, swiping through more data on his tablet, revealing a dossier-like profile of Tawa. His reputation, known tricks, and a list of his past transgressions were neatly cataloged. "That's exactly what worries me," Alexander said, his voice steady but laced with concern. "He's erratic and doesn't play by the rules. If he goes after her on or off the track, it could get ugly."

Hen's fiery red hair gleamed under the station lights as he sat forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Hisashi's good, Alex. She can handle herself on the track, but this isn't just about skill. Tawa plays dirty, and I can't risk her getting caught up in his recklessness."

Alexander tilted his head slightly, studying Hen with a knowing look. "You've taken a personal interest in her, haven't you?" he asked, his tone teasing yet serious.

Hen shot him a glare, though the flush creeping up his neck betrayed his emotions. "It's not about that," he replied, his voice gruff. "She's part of the team. If Tawa's gunning for her, it's my responsibility to make sure she's protected."

Alexander chuckled softly, leaning back as his sharp eyes observed Hen's every reaction. "Sure, it's about the team," he said, his tone deliberately drawn out. "But let's be honest, Niko. You're not just worried about her as a driver."

Hen let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "I'm not having this conversation right now, Alex."

"Fine, fine," Alexander relented, though his smirk remained. He swiped back to Hisashi's profile on the tablet, the screen showing a detailed breakdown of her performance stats, race wins, and potential. "The truth is, Hisashi's a game-changer. DriftOne won't see her coming, and that gives us a massive advantage. But we have to keep her out of harm's way until she's fully acclimated."

Hen nodded, his resolve hardening. "We'll keep her out of Tawa's reach. If he tries anything, he'll have me to deal with."

Alexander gave a short, approving nod before tapping a few buttons on his tablet. "Good. Then we'll position her strategically in the upcoming meets. Not too much spotlight until the right moment, but enough to build her confidence and reputation."

Hen glanced at the screen, his expression softening slightly at the sight of Hisashi's photo. "She's got the potential to be better than any of us," he said quietly, almost to himself. "But she's still figuring it all out."

"That's where you come in," Alexander said, his voice steady. "She trusts you. Guide her, keep her sharp, and make sure she doesn't lose that fire."

Hen nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "She won't," he said firmly. "Not while I'm around."