The Call

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The air had begun to cool as autumn settled in, and the streets of Tokyo were alive with the vibrancy of the changing season. Masachika Kuze's second year in Formula 3 was winding down, and his progress had been nothing short of extraordinary. With each race, he continued to establish himself as one of the top drivers in the series, attracting the attention of key figures in motorsport. But nothing could have prepared him for the life-changing phone call he was about to receive.

It was a typical evening in Masachika's small one-bedroom apartment. The walls, adorned with racing posters and strategy boards, seemed to fade into the background as he sat on his couch, legs stretched out, with Alya nestled against him. She was resting her head on his shoulder, the faint smell of her perfume mixing with the scent of popcorn from the movie they were watching. The soft glow of the TV screen illuminated their faces, casting a serene light across the room.

This was their time—a break from the chaos of the racing world, a time when it was just the two of them. Masachika had always been a driven individual, focused on his career, but there was something about these moments with Alya that gave him the peace he'd been searching for.

"You know," Alya said quietly, glancing up at him, "You're really good at this whole 'relaxing' thing."

Masachika chuckled, running a hand through her silver hair. "I don't know if I'd call it that. It's hard to focus on anything but you when you're this close."

Alya smirked, though a faint blush crept up her cheeks. "Flattery won't work on me, Masachika."

"Maybe not," he teased, "but I'll keep trying anyway."

The moment was interrupted by the sudden buzzing of his phone on the coffee table. Masachika reached over, glancing at the screen. The number was unfamiliar, with an international code.

"Who is it?" Alya asked, curiosity piqued.

"I don't know," Masachika muttered, picking up the phone. "Let's see."

He swiped the screen, answering the call. The voice on the other end of the line was crisp and professional, tinged with a slight British accent.

"Hello, is this Masachika Kuze?" the woman asked.

"Yeah, this is he," Masachika replied, slightly confused but intrigued.

"I'm calling from Mercedes-Benz Motorsport," the woman continued. "I have some exciting news for you. After reviewing your performances this season and considering your potential, we'd like to formally invite you to join the Mercedes Junior Program."

For a split second, Masachika froze. His mind raced as the weight of the news began to settle in. The Mercedes Junior Program was a gateway to the highest levels of motorsport, a chance to prove himself among the best. The opportunity he had dreamed of was now right in front of him.

He looked over at Alya, who had perked up at his silence. Her eyes were wide, silently asking if it was good news. Masachika's heart began to race, and he struggled to process the enormity of what was unfolding.

"This... this is really happening?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Absolutely," the woman confirmed. "We've been following your career closely, and we believe you have the talent and determination to succeed. We're excited to have you on board."

Masachika was speechless for a moment, his mind swirling with disbelief and excitement. This was everything he had worked for—the validation of all his hard work, the recognition he had longed for.

"Thank you," he finally managed to say, his voice thick with emotion. "I—I don't know what to say. I'm honored."

The woman on the other end smiled. "We'll send over the formal details in the coming days. Congratulations, Masachika. We look forward to seeing you in action."

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