She pulled to a stop at a red light, the vibrations of the idling engine traveling up through her body. That's when she felt it—the weight of someone's gaze, heavy and intense. Turning her helmeted head slightly, her sharp gaze caught sight of him across the intersection.

Even in the dim evening light, there was no mistaking Draken. His imposing figure sat atop a massive motorcycle, his blonde braided hair cascading down his back, the dragon tattoo on the side of his head partially visible even at this distance. Their eyes met through her open visor—a single charged second that sent electricity coursing through her veins. His gaze traveled down, taking in her exposed shoulders, the curve of her waist, the expanse of bare thigh resting against her motorcycle before returning to her face with unmistakable interest.

The light flashed green.

She looked away first, twisting the throttle and launching herself forward. The front wheel briefly lifted off the ground as she shot down the road, weaving between cars with practiced precision. In her rearview mirror, she caught a glimpse of movement—Draken's form following in her wake.

A small smile spread across her face beneath her helmet, red-stained lips curving into a dangerous smirk. She hadn't expected to encounter Ken Ryuguji tonight, especially not alone. As the vice-commander of Toman, he was naturally her older brother's enemy. Kazutora, her brother, and Shuji Hanma who were high-ranking individuals in Valhalla would kill her if they knew she was even in this part of town. They used to be good friends till Kazutora... did something fucking crazy that got him in juvie for 2 damn years. She met him once when Kazutora brought her along at their hangout years ago, but she didn't bother to talk to any of her older brother's friends. Only staring back at them with a narrowed gaze when they were looking.

"Let's see what you've got, Dragon Boy," she mumbled under her breath, increasing her speed as she turned sharply down a side street, riding towards the quieter industrial district where she could really open up the throttle.

The sound of his engine grew closer. He was faster than she expected for someone on such a large bike. She glanced back with a sharp gaze, seeing his determined expression as he gained on her. There was something exhilarating about being chased by him—the thrill of danger. But that was the thing about her, she liked danger. Her brother had told her stories about Draken's loyalty, his strength, his uncompromising sense of honor. Nothing about how handsome he was, though.

The buildings around them grew sparse as they reached the outskirts, where empty streets stretched before them like ribbons of possibility. This was her territory—not in terms of gang affiliation, but in spirit. These were the roads where she came to be alone, to feel the freedom that only came with speed and solitude.

But tonight, she wasn't alone. The thundering engine behind her assured that.

She smirked beneath her helmet, leaning low over her handlebars and twisting the throttle even further. Her bike responded instantly, surging forward with a howl of mechanical power. The wind tore at her hair where it escaped beneath her helmet, the world blurring around her as adrenaline flooded her system.

Draken matched her pace, pulling alongside her now rather than behind. Side by side, they rode down the empty stretch of road, neither willing to back down. Y/N turned her head to the side slightly to glance at him, finding his dark eyes already locked on her. Even through her visor, the intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down her spine. There was hunger there, provocation, and something else—something that made her pulse quicken in a way that had nothing to do with speed.

After a kilometer of neck-and-neck racing, she spotted the abandoned lot ahead—a former parking area for a now-defunct factory. She veered suddenly, cutting across his path and into the lot, her tires skidding slightly on the loose gravel. She brought her bike to a controlled stop, kicking down the stand and removing her helmet in one fluid motion.

Her hair tumbled free, her locks catching the moonlight as she shook it out. She could feel his eyes on her as he pulled in behind her, the rumble of his engine cutting off abruptly. The silence that followed was thick with tension.

She turned her body to face him, one hand on her hip, chin tilted upward in defiance. Her lashes, long and dark, framed her sharp eyes that held his gaze without wavering. The gold of her earrings caught the moonlight, drawing attention to the elegant line of her neck, the delicate jut of her collarbones above her sleeveless top.

"You always chase after girls who don't want to get caught, Draken?" she called out, her voice carrying across the empty lot with an echo.

He dismounted slowly, his impressive height becoming even more apparent as he approached her with slow yet long strides. The moonlight cast harsh shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw, the serious set of his mouth. His dragon tattoo seemed almost alive in the shifting shadows, curling along the side of his head like a living creature.

"Only when they ride into Toman territory looking for trouble," he replied, his deep voice sending an unexpected shiver down her spine. "Long time no see., Kazutora's sister. I've heard about you."

She raised a curious brow, shifting her weight to one hip in a way that accentuated her figure as she looked up at his taller stature, a small smirk stretching into red-stained lips. "All bad things, I assume?"

"Mostly warnings to stay away," he admitted, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. His sharp eyes made another journey down her body, lingering on the exposed skin of her legs before returning to her face. "Heard you're as unpredictable as your brother, but twice as dangerous."

She tried to stifle a chuckle, until she couldn't, laughing heartily as she threw her head back slightly. "Sure. You say that after chasing me down the damn streets."

"I recognized your bike," Draken said, his eyes moving to the custom paint job on her Kawasaki. "The midnight blue with gold accents. Mikey noticed it parked outside a ramen shop in Shinjuku last week. Said we should keep an eye out for it."

He stepped closer, close enough now that she had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. The height difference between them was substantial—her frame transcended by his towering 6'3. It should have made her feel intimidated. Instead, it sent a thrill of something else entirely through her system.

"Ah, Mikey," a small scoff slipped past her lips, her expression hardening slightly. "My brother has a lot to say about him."

"Bet he does." Draken's eyes moved over her face with careful attention, lingering on her lips for a second too long before meeting her sharp gaze once more. "You don't look much like Kazutora."

"Thank the gods for small mercies," she replied dryly.

Something that might have been a smile tugged at his lips. "What you doing in our territory? Your brother know you're here?"

She tilted her head to the side slightly, meeting his gaze with the same intensity. "I go where I want, Draken. I'm not officially Valhalla. Just Kazutora's sister."

"There's no 'just' about being Kazutora's sister," he countered, crossing his muscular arms over his broad chest. The movement stretched the fabric of his Tokkō-fuku across his shoulders, emphasizing the power contained in his frame. "Especially not now, with things as tense as they are."

She took a small step closer, closing the distance between them even further. From this proximity, she could smell him—a heady mix of leather, motor oil, and something distinctly masculine. "Is that concern I hear, Dragon Boy?"

His expression remained serious, but something flickered in his sharp eyes—a brief flash of heat quickly controlled. "I'm concerned about unnecessary fighting. If one of our more... enthusiastic members saw you instead of me, this conversation would be very different."

"I can handle myself," she said, her voice dropping lower. "I grew up with my jackass of a damn brother. Learned how to kick ass before I learned to ride."

"I don't doubt it," Draken replied, his gaze traveling to her bare shoulders, noting the subtle definition of muscle beneath her smooth skin. "But numbers have a way of overwhelming even the strongest fighters."

The tension between them shifted, becoming something more charged, more dangerous. They were standing too close now—close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body, could see the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. Neither made a move to step back.

"Why did you follow me tonight, Draken?" she asked, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly. "The truth."

He considered her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "Curiosity, at first," he finally said, his voice lower than before.

"Then..." He paused, a heat entering his gaze that made her breath catch. "Then it became something else."

"And now that you've got me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Draken's large hand moved before she could react, coming up to brush a strand of hair from her face with surprising gentleness. The casual touch making her fingers twitch. "Have I?" he asked, his voice a rumble that she felt more than heard.

She swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how dangerous this had become. This wasn't just about rival gangs anymore. This was about the unmistakable pull between them—a magnetism that defied loyalties and common sense.

"Kazutora would fucking kill you if he knew you were this close to me," she said, not moving away despite her threatening words.

"That damn psycho tried to kill me before," Draken replied with grim humor. "But I'm still alive now, aren't I?"

His fingers still lingered near her face, not quite touching but close enough that she could feel the heat of them against her skin. The restraint in the gesture somehow made it more intimate than if he'd grabbed her outright—a predator holding back, testing boundaries.

A small scoff slipped past her red-stained lips, her sharp gaze locked on his. "You trying to play with me?"

Draken's expression grew serious once more, narrowing his gaze at her. "I don't play games," he said simply. "Not with things that matter."

The implication that she might be something that mattered had her rolling her eyes. "We're naturally enemies if you think about it," she reminded him, though the words sounded hollow even to her own ears.

"Are we?" he challenged. "Or are we just people caught on opposite sides of someone else's war?"

The question struck her with unexpected force. How many times had she wondered the same thing? How many times had she questioned her loyalty to a brother whose rage and vengeance consumed everything around him?

"It's not that simple," she said, her voice quieter now.

"It could be," Draken replied smoothly, his eyes never leaving hers as her gaze wavered slightly. "For tonight, at least."

She should walk away. She should get on her bike and ride as far from him as possible. She should remember her loyalty to her brother, to Valhalla.

Instead, she found herself swaying slightly towards him, drawn by the gravity of his presence.

Draken noticed. Of course he noticed. His plump lips ghosted over hers as he leaned down slightly as his warm palm came in contact with her cheek. "Tell me to stop," he said, his voice rough. "Tell me this is a mistake."

She could have. She should have. But as she looked into his eyes, seeing the conflict there that mirrored her own, all she could think was that some mistakes were worth making.

"I can't," she whispered against his lips, parting slightly with the admission.

It was all the permission he needed. Draken closed the remaining distance between them, his mouth capturing hers in a kiss that was both gentle and demanding. His large hand slid from her cheek to the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer.

She responded instantly, her hands gripping the front of his Tokkō-fuku. The kiss deepened Draken tilted his head to the side slightly, a clash of restraint that left her breathless. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her body against his.

She pulled away first for air, both breathing heavily against each other's lips. She stared up at him with a half-lidded gaze, red-stained lips parted and slightly swollen from Draken's kiss, his eyes dark with the realization of what they'd just done—and what it meant.

"Fuck," Draken cursed under his breath heavily, his eyes darker now, pupils dilated with desire.

The distant sound of motorcycles—several of them—broke the moment. Both of them tensed, heads turning toward the source of the noise. The engines were still far off, but getting closer.

"Toman?" she asked him, already knowing the answer.

Draken scoffed, reluctantly releasing his arm around her waist as he recognized the sound of the familiar engines. "Mikey and the others. Looking for me, probably."

The reality of their situation came crashing back. If they were discovered together like this, the consequences would be fucking fatal—not just for them, but for the fragile peace that currently existed between their gangs.

"Go." Draken said, his deep voice regaining its commanding edge. "Now. Take the back road out of here." She bit her swollen lower lip, mounting on her bike swiftly. "You?" "I'll be fine." He replied, stepping back as she reached for her helmet.

Before she could put it over her head, Draken was beside her again, his large hand gently grasping her wrist. "When can I see you again?" he asked, the question both surprising and thrilling her.

She hesitated. The rational part of her brain screamed that there should be no "again"—that this had already gone far beyond what was safe or sensible. But the part of her that had felt more alive in his arms than she had in years had a different answer.

"The old bridge at the edge of the industrial district," she said, looking up his taller stature. "Two nights from now. Midnight."

Draken nodded, his fingers gently squeezing her wrist before releasing it. "I'll be there."

"If you're followed—" she began.

"I won't be," he cut her off with absolute certainty.

She put on her helmet, the visor still up so she could meet his sharp eyes with a narrowed gaze. "This is insane, you know that, right?"

A rare smile crossed his features, transforming his usually stern face into something that made her heart flutter. "Some of the best things in life are."

The motorcycle engines were growing louder now. Time was running out.

"Go," Draken urged, stepping back as he leaned against his bike. "I'll find you in two days." Before she left, her gaze flickered towards his lipstick stained lips. "Red lipstick. Dead giveaway." His fingers twitched, wiping the gloss off his lips with a small smirk on his plump lips with his thumb, ears turning red as he scoffed.

Her sharp eyes stared into his underneath long eyelashes for one final moment before she lowered the visor of her helmet. The bike roared to life beneath her as she twisted the throttle, riding away at full speed.

She could still taste him, still feel the lingering press of his hand against her waist. It was reckless. It was stupid. It was thrilling.

But Draken wasn’t just some thrill, some game to be played in the dark. He was something more, something dangerous—not just because of who he was, but because of what he made her feel. She should have stopped whatever the fuck this was before it spiraled off into control.

But she wouldn’t.

Because when Draken looked at her like that—with danger, with trouble, with something she couldn’t quite name? She knew she had already made her choice. This wasn’t just a dangerous game anymore. This was a collision course. And she had no intention of hitting the brakes.

♡ hi you've reached the end! thank you so much for reading, i loved writing this and i love draken. he's my absolute fav! i'm so happy i finally got a tokyorev request, i've been waiting to get one. how did you know draken's my fav? that's so cool! i hope you enjoyed reading. see you on the next fic. :3