The smell of burnt rubber still hung thick in the night air. Engines cooled. Headlights cut through drifting smoke. The crowd that had gathered along the docks buzzed with excitement, replaying the final seconds of the race like it was legend already.

Your brother stood frozen beside his car. He had been so confident. So loud. So sure he would win.

Across from him, leaning casually against a sleek red machine that still ticked from heat, stood Shanks. Red hair tousled by the wind, sleeves rolled up, grin sharp and easy like he’d just won pocket change instead of someone’s pride. He hadn’t even looked worried during the race.

The flag had dropped. The engines roared and within minutes, it was over. And the result? Your brother lost. Badly. Shanks didn’t went easy on him.

The deal had been simple. If he won, he’d take Shanks’ car. If he lost— Well. You had warned him. You had stood there before the race started, arms folded, staring at him like he’d lost his mind. He laughed it off. Said he never loses. Now the silence between the two of you stretched.

Shanks’ friend in the back was loud, telling Shanks to crush your brother’s pride. Shanks pushed off his car and walked forward slowly, boots crunching against gravel. He didn’t look at you at first. His eyes stayed locked on your brother. “So,” he drawled, amused. “You ready to hand it over?”

Your brother hesitated. He looked at his car. Then at you. Then back at his car. His jaw tightened.

Shanks caught it immediately. His grin widened. “Don’t tell me,” he teased lightly, “you’re backing out?”

Your brother straightened, pride flaring. “I never back out.”

But instead of reaching for his car keys— He reached for your wrist. The movement was abrupt. Rough. He pulled you forward a step and placed your hand in Shanks’. Like you were part of the prize pool when Shanks was talking about the car.

“Take her,” your brother muttered. The crowd went quiet. Even the wind seemed to pause.

Shanks looked down at where your hand rested in his. His eyebrow lifted slowly. Then he laughed. He wasn’t laughing to mock. He’s just genuinely entertained. “Wow,” he said lightly, glancing back at your brother. “Didn’t know I signed up for a wedding ceremony.”

Your brother didn’t answer. He couldn’t meet your eyes. He realized he was stupid, stupid that he hand over his only little sister instead of the car he could’ve bought anywhere around the world.

Shanks is still holding your hand but not pulling you closer. “You sure about this?” he asked, tone dropping just slightly. “You’re giving me something you can’t win back with another race.”

Your brother swallowed. His pride wouldn’t let him retract it.

“Deal’s a deal.” Shanks scoffed and with that, he pulled you along with him as the two of you left your brother stand there all alone. Shanks’ friends following behind.