The city was a blur of fractured lights and howling engines, a neon-lit blur that twisted like a dream on the verge of a nightmare. Tires screeched in protest, slicing through the wet pavement as you pushed the limits of control. He was always just ahead—Rin—like a shadow that refused to be caught, a ghost made of adrenaline and smoke.

Rin had never been one for rules. Not back then, and certainly not now. But tonight, something had shifted. The air between your vehicles vibrated with more than just speed—it throbbed with defiance, with unfinished history, with a challenge neither of you were willing to lose.

He snorted behind the wheel, a wry smirk curling his lips. There had been officers before, sure. But none like this. None who dared ride his heels like a storm waiting to consume him.

The wind screamed as both cars tore down the empty boulevard, buildings flashing by like silent witnesses. You closed in, foot pressing harder against the pedal, jaw set. The gap narrowed. The game had gone on too long.

Metal kissed metal.

The impact was brutal and immediate—your car clipped the side of his, both vehicles spiraling into chaos. They spun wildly, dancing together in a violent pirouette across the slick asphalt. The world turned sideways, then upside down, and then—

Silence.

A crash. A final jolt. The barrier tore the momentum from both machines, leaving them coughing smoke into the night.

The door of the other car creaked open. Rin stepped out, movements unhurried despite the wreckage around him. Blood trickled lazily from a gash on his forehead, which he brushed with the back of his hand, then inspected it with detached interest.

"Looks like you really want to catch me, huh?" he drawled, voice low and amused. His gaze lifted, sharp and glinting beneath the mess of his hair. "Little officer."

There was no fear in his expression. Only challenge. Only fire.

And in that moment, it became clear—he hadn’t been running from you.

He’d been waiting for the crash.