Crimson Storms // A Hiroto Amamiya Fiction

Chapter Eighteen: The Invitation

   • Suki Nakamura •

   "What are you working on?" I inquired as Takeru concealed the paper. "That's so childish, Takeru-senpai."

He scoffed and teasingly pushed my forehead with his finger. "You're the child here, what would you know?"

"A child who can take you down," I retorted, and he chuckled, nodding in amusement.

"Alright, alright." He finally revealed the hidden item—a card adorned with delicate flower designs. "It's Mother's Day, and since I can't afford a gift, I decided to craft a card for my mom."

Understanding his sentiment, I thought of my mother. That day, I hurried home to create a special card for her. I chose her favorite color, yellow, drew hearts, added glitter, and penned a heartfelt note before spraying her favorite perfume on the paper.

Later that night, eagerly anticipating my mother's return, I waited until the door burst open and she stumbled in. She headed to the kitchen for water. Approaching her, I proudly presented the card. "Happy Mother's Day."

"What?" Her brow furrowed as she snatched the card, examining it with disbelief. "What's this?"

"It's Mother's Day—" I began, interrupted by a sharp slap across my cheek as her hand connected.

"You think I'm grateful to be your mother? Do you believe you're a blessing to me? That you honor me?! Don't be absurd, Suki. You're a mistake that shouldn't have happened. If I see another letter like this, you're finished. Do you understand, you brat?!"

   I suppose the reason why rejection doesn't sting as much is that I've faced the harshest rejection from my own mother at a young age. There's nothing quite as crushing as being rejected by someone who should love you unconditionally.

Hiroto's rejection? It was nothing compared to that. It stung initially, infuriating even, but I've moved past it. Sure, it bothers me, but I'll manage.

The door busted open and Sannoh Rengokai entered the place. Their presence consistently filled the space more than the regular customers, but Naomi wasn't one to complain.

"Hey, Suki!" Chiharu's greeting was the first to reach the counter, swiftly followed by Dan and Tettsu.

Offering a smile, I returned to wiping the glasses, trying to focus on my task amidst their chatter.

"Dan, heard there's a race by the bridge tonight," Chiharu's voice rang out, slightly overdone.

"Oh, really?" Dan replied, matching the theatricality. It felt like they were putting on a show.

"And I heard it's open for everyone," Tettsu chimed in, sneakily glancing at my reaction.

I rolled my eyes and dropped the cloth, causing the trio to straighten up.

"Are you three stooges seriously asking me to attend this race?" I arched an eyebrow at them.

"Why?" Chiharu leaned in, "Would you be interested?"

"It's the cheesiest way to invite someone out," I retorted, crossing my arms.

Before they could protest, the scraping sound of a chair interrupted us. Cobra strode toward us with purpose, leaning casually against the counter.

"Are you free tonight?" His voice was monotone, but a faint tremor in his eyes betrayed his true emotions.

"Yes," I answered, intrigued.

"Want to check out a race by the bridge?" He asked, the atmosphere turning eerily quiet.

"Will I get a chance to race too?" I couldn't help but smirk.

His own smirk mirrored mine as he nodded. "I'll pick you up tonight."

   As I got ready for the race, thoughts of Hiroto involuntarily crossed my mind. But I doubted he ever spared a moment's thought for me. So, I pushed those notions aside.

I opted for a denim skirt, a simple white tank top, and added a pop of color with a red belt. I've always enjoyed dressing up, and hitting the thrift shops was my way of escaping life's monotony.

Cobra was unexpectedly waiting with his motorcycle when I headed out.

Never in my life did I imagine hopping on the notorious Sannoh Rengokai Cobra's bike. And well, he wasn't hard on the eyes – actually quite attractive.

"How do you plan to ride in that skirt?" he asked, handing me a helmet.

"I'll figure it out," I replied confidently, hopping on the bike without a second thought, causing him to glance away.

As we zoomed off, passing by a familiar motorcycle coming our way, I glimpsed Hiroto Amamiya. The surprise on his face was unmistakable, like the moon on a clear night.

Enjoy the sight, Amamiya.