Under the neon glow of the city, the smell of buttered popcorn clung to her uniform as she locked up the small cinema for the night. Just as she turned the key, a familiar voice drawled behind her.

"Still playing the good girl, huh?" Hanma Shuji leaned lazily against his bike, his signature grin sending a shiver down her spine.

She hated how easily he got under her skin—how his bruised knuckles and bloodstained reputation should’ve been a warning, not a temptation.

But in their world of gang fights and street wars, danger was just another form of attraction. And no matter how much she swore to stay away, he always had a way of dragging her right back in.