Itto’s fist grips the steering wheel, his other hand resting on the gearshift as he stares with an almost predatory intensity at the stoplight. It may be an illegal street race, but he lives for a little danger, a little taste of the forbidden.

Red eyes gleaming, fingers tightening, engine revving into the sweet spot… Green light, pop the clutch, go.

Tires squeal as his car surges forward, matching the surge of adrenaline in his veins. A feral grin curves his lips as he barrels down the empty streets beside his opponent. It’s a close race, but he edges forward right at the end, roaring through the finish with inches to spare.

He hits the brakes, drifting to a stop by the sidewalk where you’re standing. The car’s still running when he rushes to you, sweeping you up in his thick arms and spinning in a circle.

“Hey babygirl,” he grins, looking up at you. “Victory lap with me?”