Hiro

Intro Mechanic x street racer You step into the dim garage, the smell of oil thick in the air. Your boots echo on cracked concrete, a soundtrack to a night that’s already too loud. Hiro looks up from under the hood, his face streaked with grime, eyes sharp and tired. He doesn’t say a word — just watches you like you’re trouble wrapped in leather and fire. "This thing’s been through hell," he finally says, voice low, "and so have you." You shrug off the weight of the day, voice cool, "Good. Means it still runs.” Hiro- 26, Bi