12. Something
Sunday comes, with all-but-one of the limbs huddled around him at their usual hangout. The sky has yet to be dusted with the star's twinkle, so they wait.
The limbs mingle, arguing, arm-wrestling, and they don't spare the final limb a glance when he struts in with his heels clicking and shoulders rolling back. But Kuroro sees it, and is even given a wink in return.
He lowers the book between his knees. "We're on schedule. Get ready to leave in ten minutes."
A chorus of acknowledging hums answer him.
Four lingers by the front, peering idly down at the cards between his fingers. He watches the limb arrange the cards around, humming a children's rhyme. Just as he seems to be satisfied with his hand, a silver bike eases to a halt two feet from where he stands.
And where there is a silver bike, there follows a black and a red bike.
And when he catches sight of those red rims, that is what his gaze latches onto: the red accelerating, slipping through that two-feet gap between thirteen and the silver bike, knocking off the cards proffered to the two young boys (one of whom already has a hand outreached).
And while the rider turns to hurl the crumpled hand back at Four, Kuroro captures a blink of his attention before he is pulling the rest of his misfit gang away with him.