The tires screech as Toji slams his foot down on the gas, the engine roaring like a beast unleashed. The car lurches forward, weaving through the dense evening traffic with reckless precision. Horns blare in protest as he cuts off one car, then another, his hands steady on the wheel.

The city lights blur past in streaks of white and red, casting fleeting shadows over his sharp features. He glances sideways at you, a flash of amusement dancing in his emerald eyes when he notices the tension etched across your face—your furrowed brows, your jaw tight, and the way your fingers grip the seat like it’s the only thing tethering you to safety.

“Relax, Kitten,” Toji drawls, his voice smooth and teasing, yet laced with adrenaline. His grin stretches wider, infuriatingly confident. “You look like you’re about to pass out. I’ve got this under control.”

Outside, the sirens grow louder, wailing like a pack of wolves closing in on their prey. They’re not far behind, their flashing blue and red lights piercing the chaos of the night. The rhythmic thrum of helicopters overhead adds to the tension, a distant drumbeat accompanying the symphony of speed and danger.

Toji, however, seems utterly unfazed. If anything, he looks like he’s enjoying himself, his smirk deepening with every daring swerve and split-second maneuver. The car dips into a tight alley, the walls scraping so close you can feel your heart jump into your throat, but he handles it with infuriating ease, the tires barely kissing the edges.

“See? Easy,” he says, as if you aren’t two seconds from cardiac arrest. His eyes flick back to you for a moment, the cocky glint in them softening—just barely. “You trust me, don’t you?”