Chapter 87: See you in Japan
Nico
I forced the dangerous thought away, watching Alaric with pure curiosity as he processed my words.
"You know, I always wonder what the hell goes on inside your brain, Nico Park," Alaric murmured, his eyes searching mine. "One minute you are acting completely unhinged, and the next you are talking to me like a motivational speaker."
I chuckled darkly. "Maybe it’s because I might have an alter ego," I muttered slowly, hoping to draw a laugh out of him.
Instead, Alaric’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, and the color instantly drained from his face, leaving him as pale as a ghost. He looked completely horrified, as if he had just heard a terrifying secret he wasn’t supposed to know.
"Did I say something wrong?" I questioned, my brow furrowing at his bizarre reaction.
He stared at me silently for a long moment, swallowing hard before he forced a tight shake of his head. "No. Everything is perfectly alright," he said slowly, his voice tight.
I smiled faintly at him, letting out a quiet sigh. "Well, I am glad that you came to visit me anyway. It’s not every day you see your fiercest rival showing up out of genuine care."
He scoffed loudly, trying to recover his composure. "Oh, please. I only came here to check if you were still breathing, and frankly, I am deeply disappointed to see that you are."
"Oh, De Villier," I burst into a genuine laugh, the tension breaking. "You are incredibly funny. So, tell me, how was the podium ceremony?"
"Interesting. Mostly because you weren’t there to ruin it."
I faked a wounded expression, dramatically placing my uninjured right hand over my heart. "Oh, that is so incredibly hurtful. I can’t believe that’s your twisted way of saying the podium was boring, that you missed my beautiful face, and that you immediately decided to run to my bedside."
"Oh, get off your high horse, Park. I..." he stuttered defensively, and then a dark, telling crimson blush started creeping up his neck and into his cheeks. That flush told me absolutely everything I needed to know. Alaric had come to see me because, beneath all his walls, he actually cared.
Was I overthinking it? Did he really care about my well-being, or was I just a puzzle he wanted to solve regarding the final lap? The relentless thoughts started making my heart pound wildly against my ribs. I wondered briefly if I was starting to rely entirely too much on Alaric’s presence.
The sheer wave of pure happiness that had flooded my chest the exact moment I woke up and saw his face terrified me.
I didn’t need to depend on anyone. People always turned out to be the exact same brand of cruel in the end.
"So, what did the track doctors actually have to say about your shoulder?" Alaric asked, breaking my train of thought. "Will you even be able to drive during the next race?"
I nodded easily. "I believe so."
Alaric frowned deeply. "You believe so, or they explicitly told you that you could?"
I offered a careless half-shrug, and he let out a loud, frustrated groan.
"Oh, you are completely impossible. I came here to see your face, and now that I have done that and confirmed you’re fine, I think it’s time I go," Alaric announced, stepping back from the bed.
Hearing him say the words that he was leaving brought a sudden, tight, suffocating knot into my stomach. I had spent my entire life ensuring I never had to depend on a single soul, but looking at him now, the sudden dread of his departure filled me. I absolutely hated the feeling.
Why the hell was he making me feel this way?
"See you in Japan in... what, five days?" Alaric murmured, pausing at the door.
I frowned. "Why that early? I have..."
"We have a major global collaboration shoot together. Have you completely forgotten?’’
I gave him a questioning look because I had not heard anything about it.
’’Alright, see you then.’’
"Ah. But what about your shoulder?" Alaric asked, his eyes dropping to the injury.
"Are you worried for me, princess?"
His frown grew even deeper, twisting into a dangerous glare.
"Alright, alright. Don’t kill me with your looks," I chuckled, raising my right hand in surrender. "My shoulder injury is incredibly mild, and I will be perfectly okay in a few days. It should be entirely out of the sling by then."
Still, Alaric’s stern expression didn’t change one bit.
"Stop looking at me like that," I muttered softly. "Like you are about to murder me. Frankly, I would highly prefer it if you chose to kiss me instead."
Alaric rolled his eyes hard, his hand gripping the doorknob. "I honestly hope you break your right shoulder next."
"Then I won’t be able to race against you again. Do you really hate me that much?"
"See you in Japan, Nico."
"See you," I responded, waving my good hand lazily until his hooded figure slipped out of the room and out of sight.
The exact second the heavy door clicked shut and he was gone, the happy, teasing expression vanished from my face, replaced instantly by a hollow, gloomy darkness.
Bracing myself, I struggled to sit up on the edge of the mattress, my breathing turning shallow. I reached across my body with my right hand, firmly gripping my left shoulder joint.
With a harsh, practiced twist of my wrist, I violently tilted the bone back, forcing the dislocated joint to snap violently back into its socket with a loud, sickening pop.
The maneuver was practically painless to me now.
I had been forced to go through this exact physical trauma so many times in the basement of my childhood that I barely felt a thing when the bone shifted.
Now that my little theatrical plan on the track had succeeded perfectly, there was absolutely no need to hold onto the fake injury anymore.
Japan, here I come, I thought darkly, laying back down onto the pillows as I stared blankly up at the white ceiling.
