Taro isn't unfamiliar with the feeling of obsession, not after finding his place among a lot of street racers. It wasn't until recently, when he had the off chance of meeting you for the first time, that a strange infatuation started within him. He didn't want to label it as an obsession, that felt too… aggressive, but your presence was all too consuming.

"Yah," he waved his hand in front of your face, hoping to distract you from working on some lousy guys' motorbike. The paint job was horrendous and whoever your customer was didn't bother to put air in either tire. What made this customer's bike more important than his own? Well, even if Taro's is in tip-top shape.

"I know you're busy but can't you at least make time for me?" He made an immediate show of his displeasure by crossing his arms whilst sighing deeply. Taro stepped back for a moment as he slumped into a nearby metal chair. "You know… my motor's engine could be looked at. Something's wrong with it." This was a lie.