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The night air smelled like burning tires, high-octane fuel, and the faint metallic tang of adrenaline. The underground circuit on the outskirts of Konoha wasn't legal in any official sense, but the regulars who attended didn’t really care. Racers, one or two mechanics, girls in cropped jackets leaning against hoods, and the low rumble of engines that never quite went silent filled the lot.
All the main racers were expected to be there tonight.
Gaara stood beside his matte-sand Nissan 350Z, the Ichibi.
It's as powerful as a tailed beast, he'd said once when explaining its name.
The car matched him perfectly: it had desert-dune graphics swirling in tan and rust-red across the hood and doors, its stance so low it seemed like it was hugging the asphalt as if it was trying to bury itself in the ground.
The car has an all-wheel drive grip and a turbo spool that hissed like shifting sand. The nitrous setup hidden in the trunk could turn the straight roads into thin air.
Gaara never bragged about it: he just let the car do the talking. It was silent, relentless, and impossible to shake once it locked onto your line.
Naruto was parked nearby with his orange-trimmed Skyline GT-R, proudly labelled Kyuubi since the day Gaara chose his car's name.
Oh yeah?! Naruto had shot back at the time. Well, mine is as powerful as a… nine-tailed beast. Believe it!
They tried to explain to Naruto there was no such thing as a nine-tailed beast. The name stuck anyway.
The Kyuubi looked exactly like something Naruto would drive. The dark blue body had been wrapped with bright orange accents that plastered into the sides like foxfire, it had red vinyl decals that looked like fox tails whipped down the sides like they were alive. On the back, there were nine stylized tails fanning out across the rear panels in bold strips of vinyl, a massive rear wing sat high above the trunk while a carbon fiber hood helped cool the powerful engine underneath.
The car crouched low on wide performance tires, suspension stiff enough to bite into corners without hesitation.
The twin turbos whined impatiently every time Naruto tapped the throttle, the engine note bouncing between a growl and a sharp mechanical howl that echoed across the lot.
“Control is overrated!” Naruto had shot back once when someone tried to give him driving advice. “If it goes fast, it goes right!”
The Kyuubi didn’t really agree with that philosophy, but it also didn’t reject it. The car wasn’t clean at all. It was too much car and too much power stuffed into one idea.
When Naruto launched, for a few glorious seconds, it really did feel like a wild beast had been let loose. It didn’t feel like Naruto was driving it at all. It felt like he was just holding on and laughing while it decided where to go.
Rock Lee arrived exactly the way everyone expected him to. Loud.
He drove a lime-green Mitsubishi Evo IX that he called The Green Beast. The car was impossible to miss with its shiny metallic green paint that shimmered under the bright lights, it was accented with black racing stripes that cut across the hood like slashes. The hood had the word “YOUTH!” stencils on it in big yellow letters that bursted into flames and flew outward.
Under the hood, a heavily tuned inline-four engine roared with barely contained enthusiasm, and every rev echoed Lee’s own relentless energy. The engine note sounded less like a machine and more like it was preparing for a fight.
Lee hopped out in a matching green racing suit, sweat was already beading on his forehead even though the race hadn’t started yet. He pumped both fists in the air.
“Tonight!” he declared with absolute conviction, “the power of youth will conquer this circuit!”
Naruto immediately pointed at him. “You know it, baby!”
“You say that every week.” Kiba said through the rolled-down driver’s window of his white Subaru Wrx STI as he pulled into the lot.
The car had its name, AKAMARU, painted in rough brown letters on the back. The STI was built for aggression: It had a suspension tuned for rally racing, wide tires, and a turbo setup that barked loudly every time Kiba tapped the throttle. A stylized white fang graphic curved across the doors like a bite mark. The exhaust popped like gunfire on overrun, and the whole car seemed to crouch, ready to lunge.
Kiba leaned out, with his signature feral grin, and scratched the hood as if he was petting a real dog. “Akamaru’s already itching to hunt. Smells like a pack tonight.”
“Pffft- is that supposed to be intimidating?” Naruto shot back.
Kiba didn't get a chance to answer, the portable floodlights around the starting line suddenly got much brighter.
A small ripple of whistles moved through the crowd.
Ino had stepped onto the asphalt.
If the racers were the predators of the circuit, Ino was the queen who decided when they were allowed to hunt. She was in a purple and black racing corset laced tight enough to stop hearts, shorts cut high enough that made her legs look miles long, she moved with the confidence of a woman who knew every set of eyes was tracked on her. She had her long blonde hair tied up into a high, lethal ponytail that whipped behind her like a lash.
She held the official clipboard of the circuit in one hand and a megaphone in the other. Ino was the gatekeeper. She handled the bets, the bracket, the egos… and she was remarkably good at crushing the latter.
Ino leaned against the barrier nearby, arms crossed as she assessed the racers.
“So,” she said lazily, “who’s winning tonight?”
Naruto immediately pointed at himself. “Me,” he said without a doubt.
“The Green Beast!” Lee proclaimed raising a fist.
“Hah! Akamaru’s gonna eat you alive.” Kiba smirked.
Gaara just huffed. “Unlikely.”
Then the low rumble of another engine rolled across the lot. The conversation died instantly.
Naruto looked toward the entrance.
“…Oh.”
Ino followed his gaze. “Well,” she said, her grin widening slowly. “Speak of the devil.”
The car that rolled into the floodlights was matte obsidian from nose to tail, absorbing light as if it resented being seen. No flashy chrome. No neon underglow. Just raw, predatory lines.
The widebody kit flared subtly at the fenders, hugging massive slicks that looked ready to claw the asphalt. A brutally low stance kept the car glued to the ground, the rotary engine idling with a high-pitched, almost serpentine whine that rose and fell like breathing.
Orochimaru had tuned it himself, back when Sasuke still took "advice" from the shady mechanic who ran that off-grid chop shop on the edge of town. Experimental ECU mapping pushed the rotary past safe limits, custom exhaust that screamed like a banshee on overrun, and a nitrous system rigged so aggressively it could turn the straight into a blur of black smoke and red glow.
The car ran hot. Too hot sometimes. Push it wrong, and the engine threatened to tear itself apart. But in the hands of Uchiha Sasuke…
It never did.
Sasuke stepped out, the crowd instinctively parting around him. Conversations dropped to murmurs. Even the engines seemed to quiet slightly.
Naruto crossed his arms, “Show-off.” He rolled his eyes.
Sasuke ignored him, leaning casually against the roof of The Curse as if the entire lot belonged to him.
The low rumble of Sasuke's rotary still hung in the air like smoke when another engine note cut through. Lighter, higher-revving, almost playful. It didn’t growl like the others. It purred.
Heads turned again.
A hot pink Honda S2000 rolled into the floodlights, pearlescent magenta wrap catching every beam like liquid candy. Cherry-blossom petal vinyls drifted off the fenders and doors in delicate swirls, the massive rear wing angled sharp, widebody kit hugging fat tires that looked ready to grip anything. The supercharged F20C idled with a crisp, eager scream-9,000 RPM redline waiting like a promise. A nitrous bottle gleamed behind the seats, visible and unapologetic.
Sakura sat in the passenger seat, legs crossed on the sill, one arm draped casually over the door. Neon pink bikini top, tiny denim shorts, high ponytail swinging as she hopped out the moment the car stopped.
The lot went quiet for half a second, then erupted in low whistles and murmurs. Sakura was as much an IT girl as Ino.
Naruto was the first to recover, jogging over with a grin splitting his face. “Sakura-chan! Finally! Whose ride is this beast? Wait… pink S2000? That’s your baby, right? The one you’ve been working on?”
Sakura smirked, leaning back against the door. “Mine. Built Cherry Bomb from the frame up. Two whole summers to make her this nice.”
Kiba whistled low. “Damn. She looks mean.”
“The color radiates incredible youthful energy!” Lee said, his eyes shone with admiration.
Gaara studied the car quietly.
“…Rear-wheel drive.”
“Better balance.” Sakura smirked.
Naruto looked to the driver’s seat, trying to peep through the window “…So who’s driving now?”
Sakura’s smile turned sly. She glanced back at the driver’s seat. “My boyfriend.”
Naruto choked on air. “Your-wait, what? Since when? Who-”
Lee froze. “…BOYFRIEND?” He placed a hand over his chest. “…This is a devastating blow to the power of youth.”
The driver’s door opened slowly.
A tall figure unfolded out of the pink convertible. Silver messy hair, black hoodie, dark jeans, a scar across his left eye that suggested he was lucky to still have it, a disposable face mask hiding the rest of his expression. He looked like he’d wandered in from a late-night bookstore, not a street meet. Hands in pockets, posture relaxed to the point of boredom.
Kakashi raised a hand in casual greeting. “Yo.”
The lot froze.
Naruto’s mouth hung open. Kiba barked a laugh. Lee blinked rapidly. Gaara tilted his head like he was recalculating the entire night.
Sasuke, who was still leaning against The Curse, went rigid. His eyes locked on Kakashi, then flicked to Sakura, then back to Kakashi. Jaw tight enough to crack teeth.
Naruto squinted at Kakashi, head tilting like he was trying to solve a puzzle with half the pieces missing. He circled the pink S2000 once, eyes narrowing on the silver hair, the lazy posture, the eyes that somehow managed to look both bored and amused at the same time.
“Wait a sec…” Naruto muttered, snapping his fingers. “I’ve seen you before. Not racing… Definitely not racing. You’re… you’re the guy from the library downtown! You work there, right? The one who’s always in the corner with like, ten books stacked up and never checks anything out on time!”
The lot went quiet again. Kiba snorted. Lee blinked. Ino’s eyebrows shot up.
“Guilty.” Kakashi didn’t flinch. He just rubbed his neck and gave a small, one-shouldered shrug. “…I do like reading.”
Naruto threw his hands up. “I knew it! Dude, you sit there for hours flipping pages like the world’s ending if you miss a chapter! And now you’re out here driving Sakura-chan’s pink death machine? What kinda plot twist is that?!”
Ino’s gasp was theatrical. She grabbed Sakura’s arm, yanking her a few steps away from the group, voice dropping to an excited hiss.
“Forehead! He’s hot! Like, unfairly hot. A silver fox in your brand new pink S2000? Are you trying to kill Sasuke on sight?”
“Not everything spins around Sasuke, Pig.” Sakura said flatly, “I happen to like Kakashi. I told him I raced and he wanted to come see me.”
“Oh no.” Ino’s smirk was wicked. Her eyes went from Sakura to The Curse then to Cherry Bomb. “Nonono. You’re not racing tonight.”
“Excuse me?” Sakura frowned.
Ino casually tucked two glow sticks on Sakura’s belt like holstered pistols.
“You’re grid girl tonight,” the blonde announced like a royal decree. Sakura stared at her completely dumbfounded.
“…What?”
“Come on!” Ino pointed dramatically across the grid. “Your mysterious hot boyfriend.” Then she jabbed a finger toward Sasuke, who hadn’t moved an inch but whose knuckles were now white on The Curse’s door. “Your emotionally constipated ex.” Then back to Sakura. “You have to start the race between them.”
“Pig, Kakashi had never even driven past speed limits before.”
“It’s gonna be fun!” Ino insisted.
Sakura looked at Kakashi. He was leaning against Cherry Bomb now, his arms crossed, looking for all the street like he was waiting for a bus. She sighed, but the corner of her mouth twitched upward despite herself. Two hot guys racing for her? That was every girl’s wet dream.
“You’re evil.”
“I’m right.” Ino looped an arm around Sakura’s shoulders to yank her to the group again. “Go tell your man about the change of plans.”
When they approached, Naruto was still circling Kakashi like a suspicious dog.
“Dude, seriously-the library guy? You read romance novels for fun and now you’re in Sakura-chan’s pink rocket? How does that even compute?”
Kakashi rubbed the back of his neck, looking mildly overwhelmed under the scrutiny. “…People contain multitudes.”
Sakura cleared her throat to grab his attention. “Kakashi?”
He looked up immediately.
“Yes, love?”
“Small change of plans. I’m not riding shotgun tonight.”
“What? Why?”
Sakura gestured toward the lineup of cars. “You are.”
Kakashi blinked. “…I’m what.”
Naruto slapped the roof of Cherry Bomb.
“You’re racing, baby!”
Kakashi blinked once, slowly, like the information was taking its time sinking in through layers of calm detachment. He glanced from Sakura to the pink S2000 then back to her.
“You want me... Driving this… Tonight.”
Sakura nodded, crossing her arms. “Ino’s decree. Apparently it’s ‘dramatic’ if I stand on the line waving paddles while you and Sasuke line up against each other in front of the whole lot.”
Kakashi’s visible eye flicked toward Sasuke. The Uchiha hadn’t moved, still leaning against The Curse, arms folded, gaze locked on them like a laser sight. The rotary gave another low, angry whine, as if agreeing with whatever dark thoughts were churning behind those dark eyes.
Kakashi exhaled through his nose. “I see… Can we speak for a second?”
They stepped away from the group. Kakashi lowered his voice.
“Sakura, honey, you know I usually stay under the speed limit. I like... safety. And puzzles. These people look serious.”
“They are.”
“And the one in black has been looking at me like he wants to murder me.”
“He’s my ex.”
Kakashi paused.
“…Sakura,” his voice was pained.
She leaned closer. “If you do this, I promise we’ll recreate that scene from chapter four of Icha Icha Tactics,” her voice was conspiratorially low now.
Kakashi stilled.
“The balcony one.” She added seductively.
He groaned softly. “Wine and all?”
“Yes.”
Kakashi straightened.
“I’m winning this.” He decided then.
Sakura huffed a laugh, then reached up and tugged his hoodie collar straight like she was arming him for battle. “Just… copy what the others do if you get lost,” she said, “Sasuke’s aggressive on the line, Naruto launches like a missile, Lee apexes corners like he’s dancing. Steal their moves.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “You’ll be fine.”
He glanced over her shoulder at the lineup: Naruto bouncing on his toes next to Kyuubi, Lee shadowboxing the air in front of The Green Beast, Kiba revving Akamaru like it was a war drum, Gaara standing statue-still beside Ichibi, and Sasuke still statue-still, but the kind of statue that looked ready to come alive and commit vehicular manslaughter.
Kakashi rubbed the back of his neck again, a nervous tic she was starting to recognize. “I’m going to die in a pink convertible. That’s how my obituary is going to read. ‘Local librarian found wrapped around a telephone pole in magenta Barbie Dream Car.’”
“First, it’s hot pink. Second, you won’t die. She’s picky, but treat her right and she’ll forgive you for being a beginner. Floor it too soon without warming the tires and she’ll spin you into next week.”
Kakashi let out a quiet huff of laughter. “Noted. No premature flooring.”
They came back to the group.
Kiba howled with laughter, leaning out of Akamaru’s window. “Akamaru’s betting on pink. Librarian’s got that quiet killer vibe.”
Lee clasped his hands together, eyes sparkling with sudden inspiration. “A test of spirit! The power of youth will cheer for all us warriors equally! Sakura's trust in her beloved will fuel the flames of competition!”
Gaara, ever the minimalist, simply said: “Don’t crash.”
“Yeah, man, let’s make some memories first.” Naruto said.
A new voice cut in behind them. “I hope that happens. But that would be disappointing. Wouldn’t it, Sakura?” Sasuke had finally pushed himself off The Curse.
He walked toward them slowly, boots scraping lightly across the asphalt, the crowd parting around him without being asked.
His gaze settled on Kakashi. Cold, measuring. Then it flicked to Cherry Bomb. And god it was on him again.
“So,” Sasuke said evenly. “You’re the one driving.”
“That’s the idea,” Kakashi said, sounding more confident than he felt, he pocketed his hands in an attempt to hide how much they were sweating.
“You know,” he said calmly, his eyes never leaving Kakashi. “First came Verstappen, then came Checo.”
Kiba barked out another laugh. Lee gasped like someone had insulted the spirit of youth. Naruto slapped the roof of the Kyuubi. Even Gaara looked mildly concerned.
Kakashi didn't know much about street racing, but even he got the reference. Checo came second to Verstappen. Slower. Older.
He’d seen enough F1 with Sakura to solve this one.
“Well,” Kakashi said, tilting his head slightly, “good thing I’m Hamilton then.”
For a second, nobody spoke.
Then Naruto exploded in laughter. Kiba nearly fell out of Akamaru’s window laughing. Lee looked like he’d just witnessed a legendary duel begin. Even Gaara’s mouth twitched in… amusement, maybe? Hard to tell.
Sasuke didn’t laugh.He simply turned and walked back toward The Curse.
Across the lot, Ino raised the megaphone. “Drivers to the line!”
Naruto vaulted into Kyuubi, the Skyline’s twin turbos whining impatiently as he revved the engine. Lee jumped into The Green Beast, slamming the door with enough enthusiasm to rattle the chassis. Kiba slid behind the wheel of Akamaru, grinning like he’d been waiting all night for this moment.
Sasuke dropped into the driver’s seat of The Curse without looking at anyone.
The rotary screamed awake. Kakashi looked at Sakura.
“…Last chance to cancel?”
She just tossed him the keys. “Chapter four,” she mouthed.
Kakashi grabbed the keys clearly defeated. “…Right.”
He slid into the driver’s seat of Cherry Bomb.
The cockpit smelled faintly of gasoline, leather, and Sakura’s strawberry shampoo. It was a nice smell to die surrounded by. Sakura leaned into the window, adjusting his seatbelt with a devastatingly sharp grin. The engine purred when he turned the key.
Okay, Kakashi thought. How hard can this be? He drove Obito’s bike once. It was fast, this should be similar enough.
Sakura kissed his cheek good luck before going to the centre of the grid. Across the line, Sasuke revved the rotary again. The sound cut through the lot like a blade.
“…I’m going to die.” Kakashi swallowed hard.
Sakura stepped back from the window, her fingers lingering on the doorframe for one last second. She gave him a look that was equal parts encouragement and wicked promise, then turned and strode to the center of the grid, paddles raised high, ponytail whipping in the night breeze, glow sticks flaring like twin beacons.
Kakashi watched her go, heart hammering harder than the supercharged F20C idling under the hood.
Across the line, the other cars were locked and loaded.
Naruto in Kyuubi, grinning like a maniac, twin turbos spooling with impatient whooshes. Lee in The Green Beast, fists clenched on the wheel, already mouthing “YOUTH!” to himself like a mantra. Kiba in Akamaru, leaning forward, a feral smile wide, one hand scratching the dash like he was petting the car. Gaara in Ichibi, utterly still, eyes half-lidded, as if the race had already happened in his head and he’d won. And Sasuke in The Curse, the black matte swallowing light, crimson curse-marks glowing faintly, rotary screaming a high, vicious note that felt personal.
Kakashi’s palms were damp on the wheel. He wiped them on his jeans, one at a time, then gripped again.
Okay. Smooth. Copy. Don’t surprise the car. Chapter four. Wine. Moonlight. Don’t die. Chapter four. Sakura. Dontdiedontdiedontdie. Bikini top.
He glanced sideways at the lineup. Sasuke’s eyes were on him. Cold, unblinking. Kakashi met it. For once, the lazy eye-crinkle wasn’t there. Just quiet focus.
And a little bit of terror.
Sakura’s voice cut through the roar clear and commanding, amplified by Ino’s megaphone. “Racers ready!”
The lot held its breath.
Kakashi’s foot settled on the clutch. He eased off the brake just enough to feel Cherry Bomb settle, tires biting.
Sakura’s paddles flashed once for warning. Twice for set.
Then dropped with lights out out. The six cars lunged.
Cherry Bomb hooked surprisingly clean. Kakashi had watched enough launches to feather the throttle like Sakura said. No spin. No drama. Just a crisp, rising scream as the supercharger woke up and the pink S2000 shot forward. He shifted second. Really smooth, no grind. Then third. The revs climbed fast, 7,000… 8,000… the tach needle dancing toward the redline like it was having fun.
Beside him, The Curse pulled even for a heartbeat. Sasuke’s aggressive, Sakura told him, the rotary howled like a demon.
To his left, The Kyuubi detonated off the line. Naruto didn’t launch. He fired it. The twin turbos screamed as boost slammed in all at once, the GT-R snarling low and heavy like it was dragging the asphalt with it. No finesse at all. Just raw, overwhelming force.
Kakashi’s heart slammed against his ribs so hard he tasted copper. Don’t think. Copy. God this is the worst idea ever.
He stole his move. Less finesse, more commitment. He pressed harder into the throttle, letting the boost hit like a punch instead of a whisper. Cherry Bomb surged forward, not as violently as the Kyuubi but enough to start pulling ahead.
Ok this was a terrible idea.
Naruto was absolutely right.
The comms exploded.
Naruto (yelling over static): “YO! LIBRARIAN’S USING MY LAUNCH! PINK COPYCAT! THAT’S MY MOVE!
Kakashi swallowed. Was what he did bad?? Sakura told him to copy the others. It couldn’t be that bad.
First sweeper came fast.
Kakashi braked late. Late like he’d watched Lee do, it rotated the car with a flick of throttle, rear stepping out just enough to look stylish before hooking back up. Clean apex. Perfect exit speed. He mirrored Gaara’s torque push, flooring it just enough to walk away on the straight.
The crowd lost it. whistles, screams, phones up filming.
Gaara: “Mmm. A Copy Driver.”
For one terrifying second, the matte obsidian nose was right beside Kakashi’s door, Sasuke’s cold profile visible through tinted glass, eyes locked forward like murder was the only destination.
Kiba: “Akamaru smells blood! Pink’s hunting the black dog tonight. Go get ‘em, book boy!”
Sasuke didn’t key up. He just pushed harder. The Curse’s rotary screamed past the redline closing again on the straight, black smoke trailing like a curse.
“Cherry Bomb’s walking away! Sasuke’s chasing shadows, girls! Who had librarian on their bingo card?!” Ino shouted through the megaphone, she liked too much being the centre of attention to not reclaim her spot as main girl.
Kakashi’s heart slammed against his ribs. The wheel vibrated in his hands. Speed blurred the floodlights into streaks. Cherry Bomb answered 9000 RPM, supercharger screaming, nitrous bottle waiting if he dared. He didn’t dare yet.
But boy he was fast.
Sakura watched from the sidelines, arms crossed, grinning like she’d known all along.
“Your boyfriend’s a natural. I thought he’d crush at the first corner.” Ino said in a conspiratorial whisper.
Sakura didn’t dignify that with an answer. She just watched the pink streak pull away, Sasuke’s black shadow chasing but not quite catching.
And somewhere in the chaos of speed and neon, Kakashi Hatake thought. Very clearly, very calmly
I’m not dying tonight. And I’m definitely getting that balcony scene.
As the finish line appeared Kakashi reached for the one thing he hadn't touched yet. The nitrous toggle.
"For the balcony," he breathed.
He flipped the switch. A surge of chemical fire turned the world into a tunnel of magenta light. The S2000 didn't just drive: it flew.
He crossed the flares a full half-length ahead of the Uchiha.
The lot lost its mind.
Kakashi rolled to a stop, killed the engine, and sat there for a second, with his hands shaking just a little, breathing hard, adrenaline singing in his veins.
He leaned back in the seat, fingers tapping once against the wheel. The adrenaline hadn’t faded. He’d liked quiet things. Books, silence, puzzles. Predictable and safe endings.
This? This wasn’t predictable. This was loud and dangerous and utterly stupid.
His grip tightened slightly on the wheel. He wanted to do this again.
People were shouting over each other, phones up, Someone jumped onto a hood. Someone else started yelling about bets. The name Cherry Bomb was already spreading through the crowd like wildfire.
Ino’s voice blasted through the megaphone again: “WE HAVE A WINNER!” She pointed dramatically at Kakashi like she was crowning royalty.
“AND IT’S UNBELIEVABLY THE SILVER FOX LIBRARIAN IN THE PINK DEATH TRAP!”
The crowd roared again.
Sasuke rolled in second. Too controlled. The Curse ticked and hissed as the engine cooled, heat rippling off the matte black hood. He didn’t get out immediately.
Didn’t look at anyone.
“NO WAY!” Naruto’s voice cracked through everything, half-laughing, half-screaming. He jumped out of the Kyuubi, which came third place behind Cherry Bomb and The Curse.
“NO WAY THE LIBRARIAN JUST DID THAT-THAT WAS MY MOVE! HE STOLE MY MOVE!”
Gaara, who finished after Naruto, just watched. He rested against the Ibichi with his arms crossed. “…Adaptation,” he nodded. “…efficient.”
“I KNEW IT! QUIET KILLER VIBE! BOOK BOY’S GOT TEETH!” Kiba was howling, practically hanging out of Akamaru’s window when he approached the finish line himself.
Lee slammed both hands on the roof of his car, no one knew exactly when he arrived. His eyes shining like he’d just witnessed destiny unfold. “MAGNIFICENT! THE POWER OF YOUTH HAS TAKEN AN UNEXPECTED FORM!”
Sasuke finally hopped down the Curse, his eyes went straight to Kakashi. Then Sakura. Then back to Kakashi. God why he kept looking at him like that?
His gaze was too measured, too sharp.
“You copied them,” Sasuke said flatly.
Kakashi, still sitting in the driver’s seat, glanced up at him, then rested his arm casually on the door. He wasn’t about to look like a loser in front of his girl’s ex. “…Mm,” he said with forced nonchalance. “You noticed.”
Sasuke’s jaw tightened just slightly. “That won’t work again.”
“Good thing I only needed it once.” Kakashi’s eyes crinkled, just a little. Sasuke narrowed his eyes in response.
“Next time,” he said quietly, “bring something that’s yours,” the Uchiha hopped into the curse again. Kakashi swallowed.
Then he looked at the crowd. Sakura was already running toward him, ponytail flying, glow sticks forgotten. She yanked the door open, tugged his mask down and leaned in, and kissed him. Hard, triumphant, tasting like victory and strawberry lip gloss. Man, victory was sweet. And a little addictive.
“You did it,” she breathed against his mouth.
Kakashi’s eyes crinkled, voice rough with leftover adrenaline. “So, chapter four?”
She laughed. “Chapter four and five and six if you want! That was amazing, babe.”
Kakashi leaned back in the seat, still catching his breath. “Worth it.” He murmured just for Sakura. She kissed him again. And again. Senseless.
The noise didn’t die down. It just went louder.
“REMATCH!” someone yelled.
“NO WAY!! THAT WAS A FLUKE. RUN IT AGAIN!”
“PINK CAR SUPREMACY!”
Kakashi laughed under his breath, forehead resting briefly against Sakura’s. “I think I made an impression.”
“You think?” she grinned.
When the adrenaline faded completely, he realized that he really had fun during the race. And after. Especially after. He could absolutely do that again.
And if next season, a new car started showing up to the circuit. Lower, faster, built with intent instead of improvisation, something engineered for a super smart girl for her boyfriend who had finally learned how to use it, something so fast it could cut through lightning…
Well, the story of Raikiri is one for another day.