Kawasaki
September 17th, 2010
The low and sporadic rumble pattern rattling in Izumo's pocket had alerted the occupied bartender to an incoming call, resulting in his attention dropping from the eyes of his lovely lady customer. Silently hoping for a much-anticipated call had him eagerly dismissing the conversation at hand. "Excuse me." With a softly inquisitive hum, he tugged the device from his pocket, checked the flashing screen and noted the picture of the icy bleeding-heart image to flash an intimate contact. "What could you possibly want at this hour?"
After offering his customer a polite smile, he shuffled to the side and accepted the urgent call. "I'm sorry to cut this charming engagement short, but I've got to take this." He was relieved when the woman raised her purse into her lap, blushing over her enchanted smile as she laid out the sum of her bill. He considered it as an apology accepted. "Kusanagi here," he spoke into the mobile against his ear. A bright smile marked his farewell to his coy early-afternoon patron as he returned her delicate wave with his own. "Please come again."
The amusement in his tone was far more genuine as a satisfied groan muffled to the sass that immediately spilled over the other line. "Hold on there, Seri-chan. I have a hard time keeping up with you when you talk that fast." He reached into his breast pocket with a teasing chortle and withdrew his concealed smoke. One of his brows arched to hear her continue as wildly as he'd suggested against, his lips pinching his cigarette between his teeth. "Really?" The yammering continued as he flipped open his lighter and pinched his PDA between his head and shoulder. "Uh-huh. Oh, they did, did they?"
He shook the flame out of his lighter and inhaled the filtered toxin. "What? Of course, I'm listening." A rumbling laugh stirred within him as he relaxed against the liquor shelving behind his bar, off to one side as he watched the door for approaching cashflow. After another moment of indulgence, he removed the light from between his teeth to speak clearly. "Now, let me stop you right there," he respectfully interrupted. "To be fair, we were here first." More razing. "How am I supposed to know? He liked the view at sundown? Come on, Seri-chan." He nearly choked on his next inhale of smoke as she threatened him over the line. "Awashima-san," he half-heartedly corrected. "To tell the truth, that might've been my fault. HOMRA's home. It's the heart of our pride. It just wouldn't be the same if we were anywhere else."
Izumo's expression grew keen as he touched his face around his poison and shifted his scan around his quiet bar early that afternoon. "Yeah, well, I try." He listened to the story spun on the other line for a moment, taking notice of how few of their members had assembled. Actually, there was only one to notice; just one. "If he's found his way into Mikoto's territory, then I wouldn't worry about it too much. You know how he operates."
His expression faltered as he watched Tatara flip through some sheets in a small notebook, and a distracted piece of him wondered what the boy had gotten into this time. Whatever it was, it seemed to have an awful deep crease in his brow beneath light brown bangs. "Try not to think about it like that," he gently reassured his raving acquaintance. "Consider it like a favour instead. You work too hard, anyway. Y' know, you should let me take you out sometime." A musical chuckle filled the quiet bar as he watched HOMRA's vanguard approach. He wasn't going to have much time uninterrupted, it seemed. "Well, however long it takes. Us HOMRA's can be pretty insistent when we want something." His flirtatious grin twisted as he tried to turn the tables on the woman playing hard to get. "I guess you'll just have to wait and find out."
That was when their conversation ended in its typical, unsatisfying fashion with the sound of a dial tone honking in his ear. "Hello?" He heaved a heavy sigh and disconnected his line in return. Even though he flashed signs of disappointment, his warm smile didn't fade. "Damn, but the things you do to me, Seri."
"Kusanagi-san! Good morning!"
Izumo raised his palm, his PDA still in his grip as he offered Misaki a mild wave. Despite the clock having ticked past noon, Izumo didn't chastise the untimely greeting. "Morning Yata-chan. Heard you boys ran into a little interference the other night. Looks like the blues aren't your biggest fans right now."
"Oh yeah?!" Misaki knotted his face and tossed his nose into the air. "Well, they can kiss my ass. That bastard was on our turf, so Saruhiko and I dealt with him. Those idiots only got in the way." He reached behind him and knocked his knuckles against Saruhiko's chest to encourage his support. "Right, partner?"
Saruhiko's fleeting gaze scanned the empty bar in thought before he droned his unenthusiastic response. "At least they don't look as ridiculous, stumbling around like armed morons," he instigated. "Some of them can actually use their swords now."
Even as his nose wrinkled, Misaki remained confident in their defence as he popped his skateboard behind his head and clutched it there with both arms. "Sure, but we told 'em how it is."
A casual smile lit up Izumo's expression as he watched Misaki seat himself square in front of him. "And how was that?"
Carefully, Misaki reached down and leaned his board vertically against the side of the rosewood bar by his feet. "That Shizume is Mikoto-san's territory, and when shit goes down, it's none of their damn business."
Izumo's attention followed Saruhiko when the dark-haired vanguard intended to claim his usual seat at the edge of the bar by his lonesome only to find out that somebody had already taken it. "I bet that went over well." Izumo's gaze watched Saruhiko consider how near to his typical seat Tatara was, his train of thought apparent as his face altered with disgust.
"What's all this about, anyway?" Misaki snorted curtly. He checked to see where Izumo's gaze was fixed on Saruhiko instead, and when Misaki took notice of his friend's distance, he redirected his holler. "Oi, Saruhiko. Why're you sittin' over there? S' pretty rude when we're havin' a conversation, don't you think?"
Tsk. Saruhiko had contemplated his excuse, but in the end, he was grateful for Misaki's clumsy diversion. "I just thought it was better to leave the good seats open for the paying customers." That sounded nicer than admitting that he didn't want to take part in the conversation anymore.
"I appreciate that," Izumo perceptively interjected. He tried not to pressure Saruhiko into fleeing when the man finally made up his mind that he would prefer to join them over sitting by Tatara, even if Tatara hadn't taken notice that the pair had joined for all his scribbling. "And I'm not sayin' that you boys were in the wrong here, but you should at least try to give the hard-asses their space, know what I'm saying?"
A loud thump briefly attracted Tatara's attention on the other side of the bar when Misaki's balled fists rattled the oiled surface beneath. "Oh, come on, Kusanagi-san!"
"Yata, I don't need you out there starting an all-out war between clans," he smoothly reprimanded. "It's bad enough that Mikoto can't keep it in check around that new blue king. If the rest of you start, we're going to spend more time fighting amongst ourselves than actually getting any work done."
"But-"
"It won't happen again." Saruhiko ignored Misaki's wild and disappointed glower burning with rejection as he fiddled with his PDA. As far as he was concerned, the only thing separating them from the criminals they hunted anymore was their sense of purpose. Most days, he still wasn't entirely sure what that was, but he always hoped to hold himself to a higher standard than the thugs they regularly silenced. After a moment of consideration, he slowly rolled his tapered leer into his peripherals to meet Misaki's agitation. "Right, Misaki?"
Defeated, Misaki slumped in his seat, tilting to fold his arms over his chest. "Man, you guys suck…"
A fond expression softened Izumo's command. "Yeah, we'll see how long that lasts." When he heard the bell chime on the storefront entryway, he straightened and jerked his smoke from his face to douse its smoulder in a tray behind the bar. "Well, well, they're comin' in droves now," he sassed.
He pressed both palms on the counter in front of him as his eyes met with the refreshing sight of their hunter's devious smile flashing with mischief. She had just finished with her classes for the day, but she'd already arrived in their midst with her favourite leather jacket gaping open around her lean torso. And, despite the shopping she did before Nagasaki, she decided that she still preferred her denim with slices in the thighs. "Look at you, all done up like you're somewhere you're supposed to be."
Neirah tossed her wild locks over her shoulder with a curt snort, her unkempt bangs jostling as she threw her head with them. "I don't always come right here after classes," she drawled sardonically. "Sometimes, I like to shower and change before showing to disrupt the peace."
"Is that disruption math homework?" Izumo's smile broadened as she jerked her math textbook from her bag so swiftly that it looked like she was waiting for his cue. "Snarky little brat."
After observing Tatara's silent scribing, she knowingly smiled and left him to his purpose. Instead of interrupting, she clipped towards the gathering by the bar front, her new spike-style heels a little less dramatic as they crossed the hardwood floors. She liked her new boots. Once she'd broken them in, they were almost comfortable.
After spinning in his chair, Misaki offered Neirah a friendly smile in welcome. "Hey Tsukiyo, what's up?" He grabbed the edge of his seat with both hands between his spread legs, his expression eager. "Got any good tips recently?"
"Yata…"
Misaki flinched, recoiling to the sound of Izumo's tone hardening again. "I meant about useless shits causin' trouble in Mikoto-san's territory… jeez."
Neirah smiled, capturing the edge of Misaki's cap to give it a playful tug over his eyes. "Yata, you know that all my intel filters down through Kusanagi-san. If I told you, I'd break the chain of order." Her smile tenderly softened as she considered the sheepish blush colouring his cheeks as he sniggered devilishly to her teasing. "Believe it or not, we still have some of that around here."
A teasing grin stole Misaki's face as he tipped his horizontal palm to his brow in a mock salute. "Yes ma'am."
Tsk.
After cocking a brow to the instigation, Neirah slowly turned her amused expression to where Saruhiko was already regretting his seating arrangements. Considering that he might feel left out, she let her textbook fall to the counter in between them and spread one set of lean fingers over the glossy cover illustration. "Fushimi-san, I don't believe we've had a proper date since I got back from Nagasaki." Her heart fluttered with the challenge in his tapered leer as she looked down her nose at his resistance. She slowly pushed her workbook across the bar towards him. "If you have nothing better to do, I thought you might indulge me."
Saruhiko narrowly stifled his impatient snarl when he watched Misaki raise as high in his seat as he could to peek over Neirah's shoulder. Unfortunately for the ginger vanguard, he couldn't get more than his eyes to show. His curiosity still made Saruhiko's teeth grind. "They're not dates…"
Izumo sniggered softly from where he whisked a cloth from side to side on the bar surface. He always enjoyed listening to the banter the two shared. Neirah was relentless with her approach to their hostile loner, and that hadn't changed since her return. "Neirah, stop picking on him. You know he's not interested."
Neirah almost seemed insulted by the way the two denied the romantic engagement of their study session. "How can you say that? And after we made it all the way to second base."
Misaki flinched, one eye wincing as Izumo's polishing hand slid out from beneath him, leaving his front to topple over the countertop. Despite that realization, Misaki's meek smile remained as he continued to bounce behind the fiery brunette. "Ah, Tsukiyo? If you want Saru to live long enough to help you study, you probably shouldn't make it sound like that."
Neirah turned her feigned innocence over her shoulder, her index finger touching her naïve pout. "What? Is second base not another way to say chapter two?"
Misaki's impish chortle only made Saruhiko more impatient with the situation, so to keep it from escalating, he reached out and snagged her textbook. After he dragged it off of the bar, he shuffled through the storefront and approached a quiet table towards the back corner. "Come on," he spat out irritably through hints of his exasperation.
"Ah yes, leading me to a secluded place, just the two of-"
"If you don't shut up, this will be the part where I kill you."
"Oh, Fushimi-san, I love it when you talk dirty to me."
Misaki remained lively, his expression casual as he twisted in his seat and led his eyes from his departing friend to his superior. His expression immediately faltered to the sight of Izumo keeled over like he was in pain and staring vacantly into the polished woodgrain. "Oi, Kusanagi-san, are you okay?"
"That little brat's gonna be the death of me."
The young vanguard sniggered and turned to observe where his friends had already started their studies. Not only that, they'd barely begun, and Saruhiko was already hitting her on the head with her pen. "I know, it's crazy, right?" he instigated brightly. "I mean, who woulda thought that of all people, Tsukiyo would be the only other person Saruhiko can stand to be around."
Relaxing, Izumo returned to rubbing down his prized bar with an instigating smirk. "Jealous?"
Immediately snorting, Misaki turned his displeased glower over his shoulder. "Not you too," he growled. "Look, I just said that girlfriend stuff because Tetsuko was being a dick. Ch' ye… Like it's any of his business anyways."
Izumo's curiosity didn't falter. "I meant with Fushimi."
Seemingly startled by the insinuation, Misaki quickly jolted to attention in consideration of the distant pair. "What? No way," he passionately refuted. "I think it's awesome that someone else can put up with him the way I do. It can be hard to tell sometimes because he has a pretty crappy attitude when it comes to people, but Saru's really great, and I think Tsukiyo can see it too."
His smile broadened beneath his flushing cheeks as he bravely challenged the curious barkeep. "And remember when I said Fushimi was always gonna be there first? That doesn't mean Tsukiyo can't be there too. I think it's fine- well… it was a little weird at first, but it's fine now." His expression softened with tenderness for a moment when he rolled his head to one side to observe where Saruhiko was trying his best to look irritated even though Misaki knew he appreciated Neirah's company. "It's kinda complicated to explain, but Tsukiyo's pretty patient with him even when he's a jerk to her, and I think he appreciates that. I guess that's why we can all be friends."
A hopeful sigh escaped Izumo's nostrils as he took a moment to appreciate Misaki's blind optimism. "That a pretty thought, you have there, Yata-chan."
Despite the colour in his cheeks darkening, Misaki threw both hands behind his head to hold it as he turned entirely to meet Izumo with his sunny smile. "It's a work in progress."
When Misaki opened his eyes again, a soft hum of acknowledgment sounded from behind his interested pout. "What's Totsuka up to, anyway? He hasn't said anything since we showed up."
With a quiet sigh, Izumo joined Misaki in watching Tatara continue to huddle over his work. "Hard to say," he drawled. "He showed up here earlier then I did, picked his spot and hasn't moved since. I asked him what he was doing here so early, and I think he forgot how to use words when he answered."
Hm. Misaki gave an indifferent shrug before turning away entirely. "Whatever it is, it must be important."
A faint smile caused Izumo's expression to warm. "You know how he is," he murmured kindly. "He's obviously picked up something else, so all we can do is wait and see how long it lasts."
It had been over an hour since Misaki had watched Saruhiko and Neirah take to studying, and frankly, he'd been bored out of his mind. Somewhere along the line as time passed, he'd rested his head against the bar, keeping his arms flopped over the sides of his seat as he snoozed. He figured that a power-nap never hurt anyone.
But unexpectedly, the building's attention immediately redirected, Misaki's the most violently as he heard the rumble of a revving engine rattle the windows of the storefront. Wild eyes burst open as the vanguard shot upright to the disturbance, and when he threw his head over his shoulder towards the front door, he took immediate notice of the developing kink in his neck. He immediately winced, groaning in pain as his palm reached towards his nape to ease the burning tension in strained muscles. "Ah, shit… What the fuck was that anyway!?"
Over the dedication to his trade, Izumo tilted his gaze from his on-tap pour to face the same ruckus. "Sounds like a bike. Not a common thing to be heard around these parts at this time of day, though."
"Yeah, no shit," Misaki derided. "That asshole's gonna get it for makin' me twinge my neck like-!"
"KYAHHH!"
Misaki flopped over onto his side, startled a second time by a screeching Neirah as she threw her chair out from beneath her with a clatter. Luckily, he managed to narrowly catch himself on the bar ledge just in time to prevent him from biting it. "Fu- Tsukiyo!? You too!?"
When Izumo passed off the filled glass to a patron in exchange for his yen, his brow furrowed with entertainment to the sight of Rikio joining them through the front door looking proud enough to fill in the blanks. "Son of a bitch got that old hunk o' junk runnin' again."
Misaki's bemused expression wandered to the sight of Tsukiyo as she rushed to join their new arrival, which was taking her hands in his to settle her excitement. "For real? He and Tsukiyo 've been workin' on that thing since forever ago."
In a fluster, Neirah couldn't contain her enthusiasm as she rushed to the window to observe the functional motorbike in front of their headquarters. "Rikio! How come you didn't tell me you managed to get it running while I was away?!" She could hardly contain her elated squeal. "It was running! You drove it here! You-" Suddenly, her brow creased with her travelling thoughts before she turned back to face him inquisitively. "Ah, actually, how did you-?"
Without another word, Rikio pulled a card out of his pocket and flashed his brand-new license her way. "Heh, just got it today." When her smile broadened, his cheeks dusted with pink as he held out his second index finger to bring her attention to the picture on the card. "And thanks to all this heat, I got to be skinny for the picture."
Misaki's tone and expression flattened simultaneously, growing even more resentful that it had been Rikio's fault that he wasn't sure if his head was attached anymore. "Dumbass. The cops 're totally gonna drag you to jail the first time they catch your fat ass ridin' that thing."
Rikio immediately whirled to face him, disdain on his lean features as his lengthened golden locks dusted his cheeks upon his spin. "Oh, come on, Yata-san! You don't have to be such a jerk about it! I was really excited too…"
Interrupting their banter, Neirah shrieked and jumped into the fray, apprehending his card. "I can't believe you actually did it." Her voice was soft, but her eyes were glowing as she admired his licence between both trembling sets of fingers. "I'm excited for you."
A playful smile stole Rikio's face as he straightened and directed his stance her way instead of towards a bitter Misaki. "Well, you can be excited for you, too, if you want." The pressure of her large blue eyes piercing him with intrigue almost made him crack, but he settled for preparing his ears for her squeals if she lost her wits in the next minute or so. "I did promise you that we'd go for a rip as soon as we got it fixed, right?"
The entire room could tell that she was bottling her anticipation and trying hard not to erupt as she stared back at his face and searched it for sincerity. In the end, she snapped her teeth down on her lower lip to stifle her elation, slowly turning to face where Saruhiko was waiting for her to return. He answered her heart's dilemma when he snorted softly and flipped her textbook closed.
"Finally," he grumbled. Although he hated to owe anyone anything, much less Rikio, he was grateful for the distraction. "Just go already."
Neirah immediately jolted her pleading gaze towards Izumo, her last obstacle, and her heart raced out of control. "O-Onii-san… can I please…?"
Izumo's chest ached with endearment as he hitched his hands on his hips and sighed defeat. "Neirah, I don't think a heard of stampeding cattle could stop you now." But he was thankful she asked. "Go on," he surrendered warmly. "Get out of here, you two."
She finally let out an ear-splitting cry that forced Misaki to cover his ears. "Thank yooou!"
After she winded her driver by thrusting his returned license into his chest, Rikio turned to watch her throw herself out the door and approach their project. A rumbling laugh filled his aching chest as he slowly tilted to face Izumo with a sheepish smile. "Don't worry, Kusanagi-san. I'll make sure to drive safe when Nē-chan's with me."
"Tsk, you'd better." Both Izumo and Rikio were utterly astonished when Misaki was the one to offer up a derisive command in support like his opinion would somehow be relevant in their current situation. As soon as he realized that the two were staring at him astounded, he startled with a guilty blush. "W-what?! That's what you were gonna say, wasn't it, Kusanagi-san?"
"Well, yeah, but-"
"You know, it's pretty hard for a guy to nap when someone's downstairs screamin' bloody murder." From the bottom of the stairs, Mikoto reached to his brow, shoving his fingers through his crimson mane as he shifted his lazy gaze over his cave. "What the hell's goin' on anyway?"
"Mikoto-san, you were asleep this late?" Despite Saruhiko's visible disgust outside of his comprehension, Misaki's tone brightened with youthful vigour. "That's crazy! I totally just had a nap too!" It frustrated Saruhiko to think that sleeping through the afternoon was somehow a great accomplishment, but it was worse to hear the cheerful tone of his friend's laughter. In that sense, he almost wished that Neirah would return.
Izumo chuckled when he turned to face the sight of what looked to be Anna guiding their dozy king by his lazy grip on her fingers. "It looks like Kamamoto finally picked up his license for that bike he and Neirah spent all that time on this winter. She's been waitin' for this for over a year, so I guess the excitement finally got to her."
Mikoto dropped his hand and offered a curious hum towards the sight of Neirah, inspecting the motorcycle that almost looked new since they'd finished with it. "Yeah, I could tell."
Anna's voice was soft as she interrupted them with a gentle coo. "Onē-san is leaving?"
"She'll be back, so don't you worry, Anna-chan," Misaki informed her kindly. "And if they crash and die, I'll make sure I beat the crap outta Kamamoto for it-" Misaki's pleasant raving was interrupted the moment Izumo beat him over the head impatiently.
"Idiot, don't say things like that around Anna-chan," Izumo duly reprimanded.
"What?! I was just trying to make her feel better!"
With a hearty sigh, Izumo closed his eyes and calmed his riled nerves in an attempt to maintain his uncanny cool around the unfiltered youth. "Those two worked hard on that little side project of theirs," he added. "I think that's what makes it so special." He tilted his curiosity towards the other side of the bar to where he'd anticipated Tatara to at least make a fuss, but he'd remained unusually quiet. That was when he noticed that Tatara had also fallen asleep on the bar top. "That kid," he rushed in an exasperated sigh. "He's almost as bad as you are for sleepin' wherever he times out."
Mikoto snorted gruffly to the insinuation.
Izumo quietly crossed the bar, reaching out to peel the little notebook out from underneath their sleeping friend's folded arms. "He's been quiet like this all afternoon. Just what is he up to?"
"No!" When Anna leapt up and commandeered Tatara's work, Izumo was shocked to hear what rushed out as a slightly elevated tone from within their gentle Strain. It was the first time he'd ever perceived her attempt to raise her voice. Once she had collected the book, she quickly backed away and clutched the document against her chest in both arms. "Izumo and the others can't see yet. It's not ready."
Huh? Mikoto tilted his consideration to one side with curiosity flashing behind his golden irises. "Can't see what?"
Anna simply turned to face him and quietly shook her head.
Izumo straightened and sheepishly slipped one palm against his nape. "I'm sorry, Anna-chan. I didn't mean to make you angry," he reassured her tenderly. "I didn't know."
"It's okay," she gently encouraged.
In the next moment, everyone's gazes returned to the sight of Rikio firing up the engine of the vehicle outside before offering Neirah assistance in joining him on the back of the bike. Despite her palpable excitement, there seemed to be slighted apprehension in the way Neirah cautiously mounted. Her interest in the machine had been just that for many years, as she'd never ridden a motorbike. Even so, she faced the challenge bravely with butterflies in her stomach as she lowered her sunglasses from the top of her head to protect her eyes, and moments later, they were ripping down the street.
The world looked vintage through amber shades as Neirah watched it go by in radiant golden hues. It was like a rich sepia filter had slipped over their modern surroundings as the fading summer sun beat on the bright city streets. She couldn't open her eyes any wider as she felt the weight beneath her shift, the city blurring as they picked up speed on the highway leading towards the outskirts of Shizume. It had been just over a year since Rikio had picked up the vehicle, and they began their repairs. During that time, they'd grown closer than she expected, though, since the beginning, she supposed that he'd always looked out for her. In some ways, she would consider him as close a friend as Tatara. They were just as comfortable with each other, and even if she didn't divulge her insecurities as openly with Rikio, she felt like he instinctively understood them. She supposed that maybe she was a little ashamed that she hadn't thanked him for his patient dedication sooner.
A startled yelp caught in her throat as she fell forward on the contraption, clinging to her escort for stability as he zipped around a corner leading them up a natural rise. Her thoughts were so rampant that she'd lost track of their surroundings upon leaving town, and she was instantly thankful that he was still summer-lean. Because of that, she was able to snap her arms around his waist, steadying herself on their ride.
Her smile was embarrassed when she felt him rumble a playful laugh at her vulnerability. Despite him keeping his eyes on the open road ahead of them behind his sunglasses, she still craned to one side of him and stuck out her tongue in the reflection of his side mirror. It was the least she could do when the engine of the bike began to accelerate.
"Hang on tight, Nē-chan," he announced in caution. "This stretch of road is pretty quiet, so I think I'm going to speed up a bit."
A bit. Neirah thought that was cute. What he was saying and what she was feeling were two very different stories, but she didn't mind. She wanted to go faster. She wanted to experience the triumph of their dedicated service as the humid breeze slicked back her wild auburn tresses. This was their victory. It reminded her that friendships took just as much patience and dedication as the repairs on the motorcycle currently zipping over the town outskirts. Symbolically, it meant more to her than what anyone else could comprehend, but at the same time, she didn't want it any other way. It was a moment to be spent with two racing heartbeats who understood the exhilaration of their accomplishments, and the freedom that came with it.
As they picked up speed, Neirah slowly retracted her arms, straightening again on the seat behind him so she could peek over his shoulder. It looked like she was watching the world pass on an old-time movie screen, and the quiet street around her became the memories she made on her road to recovery. That was how she began to consider it as she reminisced. The world moved so fast, and it was vast before her. Soon, she began to notice how shallow her train of thought was, stuck on a small track circling over and over with a slow but steady chug. She hated flying, but when she spread her arms out to either side of her on the back of the speeding sportbike, she felt liberty that she could only compare to a winged beast rising from the ashes of a grim past. It was the freedom of trust and everlasting faith that somehow, everything would work out in the end.
When the wheels of their ride jarred over uneven terrain, Neirah retracted her arms, unaware of how brief a moment she spent with them outstretched. As fast as the world moved around her, some moments made her feel like time stood still. She could feel Rikio tense when she flopped against his shoulders again, but he was quickly reassured when she burst out laughing loud enough that he could hear her over the hum of the engine.
It was an uplifting choir that he couldn't help joining. "You okay back there?"
Even though she could hear the concern in his voice, she could also feel his smile. She tipped her chin up onto his shoulder as he tilted his head, and she offered him a broad smile to reassure him, to which he gratefully received.
Rikio brought their speed down to a manageable pace and tried to keep his excitement from spilling over. They cruised for another while before he noted a small rest area on the side of the highway. When he pulled over and disturbed a cloud of dust, he comprehended that by the time he cut the engine, the pair of them were both laughing.
Neirah slowly peeled away from him as he braced the bike with his foot, her fingers rising to where her unbound hair flopped madly in all directions. Her delighted laugh continued as she peeled back the mess with both index fingers. "Oh, wow, this was a bad idea," she moaned. "I should have at least pulled my hair back."
An amused chortle filled Rikio's voice as he set the kickstand under their ride and stood to offer Neirah his hand. He didn't want to seem impatient, but he couldn't help urging her to dismiss the mess she tried to comb out of her tangled mop with her fingers. "Don't worry, your hair looks fine."
Dully snorting her derision, she accepted his aid and dismounted the metal monstrosity. "How many times am I going to have to tell you that I can appreciate an honest man?"
There was a desperate whine in his tone as he defended his sincerity. "But I was being honest."
Once her feet were back on solid ground, she wobbled a bit on rubber legs. "That was way too much fun," she proclaimed giddily. "I can see now why my mother and father used to do this."
Suddenly, Rikio's expression dropped as he watched her wander out towards the edge of the hillside by the steel blockade. She was right, it had been fun, even if he anticipated the novelty to wear off eventually. But the tone of longing in her voice made his chest ache, and he raised his palm to the back of his neck to brush his hair away. "Hey, I didn't mean-"
Without looking his way, Neirah waved her hand towards him in beckoning, successfully stalling his worrisome prattle. "Rikio! Come look at this view!" The hill wasn't high, but it overlooked bits of the central metropolis, where somewhere at heart, their HOMRA continued to beat. She waited for him to join her before continuing. "I used to think that everyone else was so small. But now I see that it's all a matter of perspective."
Appreciating her modest statement, Rikio raised his sunglasses from his face and noted his interest with a quiet laugh. "I feel a comment like that was a little deeper than it sounded."
She turned her cheerful expression his way and let their eyes meet. "I suppose that's all a matter of perspective, too," she teased.
Rikio shuddered with surprise when she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a brand-new pack of cigarettes, peeling off the cellophane before popping the top off like she was interested in the contents. "A-ah! Neirah? I thought you didn't like it when any of us smoked anymore."
With a blissful sigh, she raised the pack to her lips and picked her selection out before offering the carton towards him. "Perspective, Ri-chan." She turned and smiled around the lean dart, a deceitfully delicate blush in her cheeks. "I have a different one since I got back from Nagasaki." When he didn't shift towards her offering, she gave the carton a playful little wriggle. "No?"
Surrendering to her invitation, Rikio apprehensively reached out and received the cigarette she'd picked out of the stack for him. "I have a neighbour that calls me that," he divulged with mild notes of impatience. "But it's way less annoying when you do it."
Mn. Neirah chuckled and slipped out a lighter from her pocket to ignite the tip of her smoke. "Maybe she has a crush."
He rolled his eyes with a dull groan, and when he spoke, his cigarette bobbed between his lips with every muffled syllable. "What is it that you're always saying? That sounds really awful?" He drew his own lighter from his pocket and dusted the tip of his cigarette with it. "Because it does."
"Dreadful," she purred. She musically snapped her lighter shut and stuffed it back into her pocket as casually as she'd withdrawn it. "Absolutely dreadful."
Even though Neirah had operated so fluidly, there was still a knot in Rikio's brow as he examined her confidence in the gesture. He wasn't sure at first, but after a moment of consideration, his misgiving piqued. "Wait a minute… wasn't that?"
Neirah quietly cleared her throat to interrupt him, causing his suspicions to deepen.
Not only was Rikio confident that he'd recognized her particular Zippo, but he was also pretty sure he'd been familiar with the brand of cigarettes Neirah had just opened. "Uh, I don't suppose that Chitose knows about your new view on things-"
"Chitose-kun doesn't have to know. It wouldn't hurt him to smoke a little less." Neirah's tone was filled with a soft song even as her bashful smile broadened. "But to be fair, I only stole the lighter. Ever since that day last winter, he and I have smoked the same brand." Her beam became wicked around her light as she turned to face him directly. "Besides, it's not like he and Dewa-kun need a lighter anyways."
The pair shared a hearty laugh as the twisting plumes of smoke intertwined and encircled their gathering. They overlooked the surrounding area in silence for a moment of quiet contentment before Neirah spoke again. "Thank you for understanding." She could feel Rikio's uncertain hesitation when his eyes turned on her in her peripherals, but she didn't falter. "With Okazaki-san, I mean. I'm grateful for what you did."
Rikio lowered his eyes, chewing sheepishly on the end of his light. "O-oh, that…"
"Don't be that way." She was happy to see that her support by his side helped reassure him when she redirected her attention and gave him a playful nudge. "I know what you're thinking. You probably feel bad for being so hard on him, but I don't blame you for that. The truth is that if it weren't for you the last time we spoke, I might have done something I would regret for the rest of my life."
"Really…?"
She nodded and withdrew her cigarette to tap the ashes from the end. With a heavy sigh, she dropped her arm limply by her side, stuffing her second hand in her pocket as she looked back out over the city. "I still regret not appreciating him sooner. It seems that no matter what I do, the guilt is going to follow me around. But it's just another part of me that I have to get used to, I suppose. It'll get easier as I go."
Rikio dipped his head with shame. "But it's because of Yata and me that Okazaki doesn't come around anymore."
"No, he's probably just busy with school," she assured him tenderly. "Kusanagi-san is right. Yata beat him with a skateboard, and he still came back to face him." A musical laugh filled her voice as she continued. "I know he seems cowardly sometimes, but Okazaki-san is very resilient. When he wants something, he doesn't give up."
A bitter Rikio's expression dropped with his stirring agitation. "Well, maybe he should," he muffled impatiently. "I really don't like that guy. He's always makin' you feel uncomfortable."
A subtle pang of guilt caused Neirah's roots to tingle as she considered her off-putting attitude towards the young man who'd done nothing but attempted to befriend her. At one point, it did make her uncomfortable, and she was nothing short of delighted to hear that Rikio had noticed.
"That's so funny because he's pretty fond of you," she cackled. "But I can understand why he was a little nervous, at first. He thought I ended up in some sort of trouble with dangerous people the day you first met him. When I think about it now, it was actually kind of sweet." Realizing that Rikio wasn't as enthused, she continued. "But after I explained everything to him, he started to appreciate the things that you do for me. See, Okazaki-san is skilled at understanding people, too. I think that's why he refuses to give up on me even if I give him the cold shoulder." Her expression began to dim as she let her thoughts travel. "I think that's why he didn't try to run away the last time we saw him. I think he knew that you were only there to protect my feelings, and you didn't have any intentions of hurting him."
"But I would've!" Rikio demanded urgently. "If he hadn't stopped yellin' at you like that, I would've shown him that it was a bad idea to mess with HOMRA."
"Would you?" she sassed cheekily. "Or would you have gotten Yata to do it."
"Still… He would've learned…"
A tender smile curved her lips as she leaned against his shoulder with a sense of endearment she struggled to let show before. "I know you don't like him," she whispered. "But I owe him my thanks. He never gave up on me, no matter how tightly I locked my emotions down. He never left my side." A gentle sigh escaped her pursed lips with a delicate strand of smoke as she tipped her chin back to redirect soft blue eyes towards his consideration. "I want to start thanking people for things like that, even if I don't necessarily say those words, exactly."
Rikio's cheeks dusted with hints of colour as he sheepishly diverted his attention. "Even if you don't say those words, huh?"
"Thank you for protecting me from breaking all the bones in my body that night, Ri-chan," she cooed appreciatively. "I really appreciate it."
At first, he felt like she was earnest, and he had every intention of taking her seriously, but he couldn't keep his entertained laugh stifled, so it ended up choking out of his control. "Ah, you're welcome, I guess."
Mm. Neirah curiously hummed as she pulled out her PDA, realizing that she had a series of missed messages pending from Yō's contact. "I guess the cat's out of the bag." From where she continued to prop her unsteady self against Rikio's shoulder, she popped her smoke back between her lips to reclaim both of her hands and patter away on her mobile's screen in reply to her friend's outrage. "Chitose-kun figured me out faster this time. I guess it's time to teach an old dog new tricks."
Rikio picked his diminishing light from between his teeth with a soft smile. "But Nē-chan is a lion."
A tender smile warmed her expression as she beamed her appreciation. "Yeah…"
As Neirah continued to tap away at her screen, Rikio extinguished his cigarette and turned over his shoulder curiously to the sound of familiar engines sounding in the distance. "I guess we weren't the only ones who thought it was a nice day for a cruise."
Neirah popped her attention away from her phone to join him in watching the horizon. "How boring," she groaned. "I have no interest in any company." She stepped towards their ride, taking a moment to admire their success before tipping her cheerful smile towards him. "Ri-chan, what do you say we go and visit Ōta-san? I haven't dropped by since I got back, and he promised to make me tonkatsu when I did."
Rikio turned his eyes back on her, dismissing the approach of their fellow riders. "Actually, I was feelin' kinda peckish."
Neirah's whimsical giggle filtered through the back of her mobile flashing that she was preparing to write Jūrō a message announcing their arrival. "Just peckish?" It would do them no good to visit Jūrō without an appetite, but luckily for them, the inevitable change in the season had it returning.
"Yeah," he murmured eagerly. "I could eat."
