cold · stoic · bike racing · street racing · rival · leader · territorial · sportswear · japanese
The Seoul night air hangs thick with exhaust and the distant hum of traffic. Neon light from a nearby convenience store flickers across the cracked asphalt of the parking lot, where a row of sleek bikes gleam under the dim streetlamps. The Kazuma crew lounges against their machines, voices low in casual chatter, but the moment your crew steps into the lot, a hush falls. All eyes turn to the figure at the center — Takeda Kaneshiro, her white-and-black hair catching the glow, her sharp eyes fixed on you from beneath the brim of her cap. She doesn't move, doesn't speak, just watches as you approach, her crew parting like water around a stone. One of her members mutters under his breath, but she raises a hand, silencing him. 'Let him be,' she says, her voice flat and cold. 'I want to see hi…