The aluminum alloy rolling shutter door of the garage made people a series of teeth- ache squeaks as it rose.
It was like a giant beast lurking in the dark, finally waiting for its prey to pass by, slowly opening its black hole-like mouth.
The high-beam headlights of the GTR were adjusted to low beam, the engine let out its final roar, and the car drove up the concrete ramp in front of the garage and into the mouth of the beast.
The rolling shutter door squeaked again. The old beast swallowed the pink Nissan GTR and slowly closed its decaying, aged teeth.
With a "clang," the shutter door closed completely, locking the last glimpse of the GTR's tail in darkness. It was as if this was a door of history, no matter how shocking or sensational the events in Berlin tonight, once this shutter door closed, all achievements and failures, shame and glory, were like fleeting clouds dissipating within.
Silence once again enveloped the Meilaike villa area. Some people, awakened by the noise of the rolling shutter door, grumbled and then turned over and fell back asleep.
The GTR's front lights went completely dark, and the car door of the driver's seat opened with a barely audible click. A leg wearing Converse low-top canvas shoes stepped out first, its muscles evenly distributed and flowing naturally along the fair skin.
The pink long hair reached down to the denim shorts, and Gotoh Se removed her denim jacket, revealing a black T-shirt with a blue planet pattern.
Below the blue planet was a line of blue cartoon English letters: Rock and Roll.
The GTR key ring on Gotoh's index finger spun, Gotoh Se stood in place, looking around the dark garage.
Her father's Lexus was not in the garage, Gotoh Se's heart eased slightly, but when she saw her mother's red Porsche 911 parked beside the GTR, the contrast between the two cars' appearances was striking.
Gotoh Se's expressionless face now showed an icy crack.
Was her mother home? But wasn't her mother supposed to be in Frankfurt with her father on business? They were supposed to be back by Wednesday at the latest, right? Could it be that her mother returned early?
One question after another surged in Gotoh Se's heart, creating a huge wave. She felt as if she were sitting in an Indian canoe, navigating through endless waves, sometimes thrown high by fear, and then slammed down again.
"I must not let anyone, including my parents and sister, see me in this shocking outfit," Gotoh Se thought. She felt her heart almost ready to break through her ribcage, burst through her clothes, and finally jump onto the roof of the GTR.
Gotoh Se imagined her mother's reaction if she saw her in this outfit. Probably like Ikari Shinji in the anime EVA, who lost control and overturned Shikinami Asuka's table, and with a sudden burst of strength, grabbed Shikinami Asuka's neck and asked what she was up to.
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Although Gotoh Osamu and Gotoh Naoko almost spoiled Gotoh Se, Gotoh Osamu always loved to take advantage of Gotoh Se's mealtime to mention things like going to see a concert of a band coming to Berlin next month or checking out new guitars at a nearby music store. Even after countless stammering refusals from Gotoh Se, Gotoh Osamu would still ask her again at the next meal like an old man with dementia.
She knew her father's intention was to get her to go out and socialize more, but she was inherently resistant to such activities. For Gotoh Se, initiating contact with a stranger was as repulsive as pinching her nose, forcibly opening her mouth, and pouring an entire can of herring down her throat.
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Gotoh Se grasped the doorknob leading inside, the cold touch of the metal sending a chill up her spine.
She gently pulled open the heavy oak door.
The corridor was pitch black, which eased her anxiety a little. She took off her canvas shoes, tiptoed like a cat lurking in the dark, and crossed the unlit first-floor living room. She almost bumped into the redwood table, nearly knocking over the ceramic fruit plate on top.
She didn't know if Gotoh Harizawa was home. In contrast to her severe, pathological social anxiety, her sister was like the sun in social settings, a born social phobia: social terror.
Gotoh Harizawa attended an expensive international school, always surrounded by classmates from around the world. One day they'd talk about watching the sunset by the Danube with friends from the UK, the next day about eating sausages in Moscow with Russian friends during summer break. Especially on holidays, Harizawa's booming Japanese "I'm going out" would leave her older sister wrapped in a blanket in her small room upstairs, watching Harizawa laugh with her friends as they ran out of the courtyard in the sunlight, then quietly wiping away tears behind the curtain. She longed for the day when she, Gotoh Se, could transform from a fearful person into a terror.
Gotoh Se safely and slowly ascended the spiral wooden staircase, listened to her sister's faint snoring, and then entered her own room.
The dim streetlight outside the window shone through the tempered glass onto the walls and dark brown tatami, sliced into sections by the window lattices, casting twisted face-like shadows on the soft pink walls, mocking her as she entered the room.
Although the first floor of the Gotoh house was decorated in a typical European style, the second-floor rooms still followed the traditional Japanese style of the Edo period. Frosted glass replaced the traditional wooden frame and paper sliding doors, dividing each room. In fact, the Gotoh house also had a long, unique Japanese-style veranda made of teak in front of the villa.
Gotoh Se removed her socks and clothes, lay down on the tatami, and crawled into the blanket. Perhaps due to the low temperature of the central air conditioning, even on an early summer night, Gotoh Se felt a few strands of coolness wrapping around her body like water.
Gotoh Se tossed and turned on the teak tatami. Although the adrenaline from her wild night had long faded, leaving only endless fatigue, she still couldn't fall asleep. Even with her eyes closed, countless thrilling moments from her races with Santos and Muller kept replaying in her mind like a slideshow.
The light from the streetlamp outside reflected off the shiny teak tatami and into her eyes, making it look like there was a small puddle of water on the surface of the tatami. In a certain area of Berlin, probably in the direction of Highway 10, the sound of a stretched-out siren could be heard, as if the Berlin police were still chasing the remaining street racers tonight.
She exhaled and still couldn't believe that she had cornered both "Berlin Grey Wolf" Cousins Muller and "Las Vegas Drift King" Orne Santos tonight.
Still unable to sleep, Gotoh Se picked up her phone and lit up the screen. Her fingers tapped on the glowing blue phone screen.
Entering YouTube, Gotoh Se saw a prominent red dot on the bell symbol representing notifications: 99+.
Excluding updates from video bloggers she followed, she quickly counted that her channel "Race superhero" had gained several hundred more subscribers, approaching 35,000.
This was her secret space, known to no one but her parents. She had created a private channel on YouTube.
Just like the name of her channel, Race superhero,
An unknown.Stillness hero.