"The wind from this bridge feels nice, don't you think?"

As if on cue, a gust slapped Zuikaku's face, blowing a lock of hair into the side and her mouth. She spat out a few strands and grimaced.

"I'll take that back."

He followed with the most subtle of laughs, and she responded with a grunt as she tucked that wayward, troublesome strand of hair behind her ear, only for the wind to blow it out again.

"Can't fight the wind, you know?"

"Whatever," Zuikaku scoffed and yawned. "I can't believe you managed to convince me to tag along when I could be training or get some nap."

"Either I'm getting better at persuading you, or you're getting easier," Lieutenant Ohtori Kensaku shrugged, earning him an elbow to his side.

"Don't push your luck, bud," Zuikaku cracked her knuckles, but the grin betrayed the threat.

"Fine, I'm sorry. I'll buy you any food you want when we reach the town, alright?" Ohtori raised his hand in mock surrender.

"And no cheaping out. I mean it."

"Heh. I'll buy you enough food to turn you into a sumo wrestler, even. You already have the brute strength and the appetite, so the only thing you need is the girth."

"Hey!"

A slap to the back, evaded.

A laugh, mutual.

A chase, ensued.

"Come back here! I'm not done with you yet!"

The chase, short.

Ohtori scampered toward the Kawasaki Z1 parked only a few meters away and ducked beside it, with Zuikaku stomping close behind, stopping short inches from the bike and crossing her arms.

"...Seriously, if you gotta hide, pick a better place. Like the bottom of the sea. Want me to help you with that?"

"How very kind of you. But really, I'm done hiding," Ohtori declared as he stood up, arms raised. "I promised you a meal, after all."

"Damn right, you are. Don't ever think of running away."

Ohtori grabbed the helmet hanging from the handlebar and tossed it to her. She caught it with ease, and when it was already within her grip, she noticed the smile—and the difference, which even someone like her could see.

"I'll never leave you, and you know that," Ohtori put on his own helmet, followed by a pair of gloves, not minding how quickly the frown shifted into a flustered, amused smile.

"...If you do without a word, I would probably hunt you down, wherever you may be. Probably kick your ass, too," Zuikaku quipped as she slipped the helmet on, and he started the engine, which roared like a waking tiger. At least, that was how she imagined the sound to be like.

"Good to know," he replied, and Zuikaku, for a moment, thought he wasn't exactly joking.

The roar quieted down into a purr as if asking her to hop on, and she did, not needing to be told to hold onto him.

It was easier the second time around to wrap her arms around him, again feeling the leather jacket—likely as old as the bike itself—against the skin of her forearms.

It was warmer the second time around, and she held on a little bit tighter without thinking, feeling his body tensing when she did, then relaxing again.

Ohtori revved the engine, kicked the stand, and took off. Zuikaku could feel the wind again bearing down upon them as the bike gained speed, but he took the brunt of it like before without batting an eye. Perhaps he enjoyed them. Maybe he was doing it for her.

The ride along the peninsula was fast, but he wasn't rushing. He was cautious, but not to an excess.

As the ride blew past the sea down below and the shimmering reflection upon the waters as the sun rose higher, the rumble drowned the waves and the birds' cry—but not the whoop she let out.

She couldn't hold it in.

He laughed back as she leaned closer, burying her face against the leather, feeling the beat underneath picking up pace like the bike as her own muffled chuckle went on.

The landscape quickly changed into a blurry green as they left the bridge behind, the road winding and unfamiliar. They were going further and further away from the usual, a break from a routine.

But the unknown wasn't overwhelming as long as they stuck together.

Maybe that was the reason he invited her.

Maybe that was even the reason why she went along.

The road kept changing. The feeling, not so.

"Thank you," she mouthed. It didn't matter if he could hear it or see the meanings beneath the words.

"Anytime."

There went the last of her doubts.


The trip to the town had been uneventful, which probably had to do with the fact that they had pulled up by a small roadside shrine just before it, paying respects to the Jizo statues. It was pretty surprising to hear him suggesting that it would be prudent to get in the good graces of the patron of travelers. He simply said that having extra insurance couldn't hurt when she brought it up. She figured he had a point anyway.

The entire place was reminiscent of the one by the base, only bigger and busier. Fishing boats packed the docks, the air crisp and thick with the stench of the day's catch and brine. A little further downtown, however, the smoky aroma of things grilled and roasted was more prominent, and the noise was different—not the waves breaking on the piers and the screeching of seagulls, but of the chattering of people and the clanging of utensils.

It was nowhere near lunchtime, so the crowd wasn't too much. He parked the bike a short walk from the waterfront, and when she had hopped off, she was awash with relief. It wasn't that she disliked being on the bike, but her legs had gotten stiffer.

"Should've told me if you're uncomfortable. I would've taken stops more often."

So he noticed, Zuikaku realized as she stopped nursing her ankles. The concern was a bit embarrassing, but it was also rather touching.

"Nah, I've survived worse."

"That you did."

The tone didn't change. The smile did.

Zuikaku knew why, but she wasn't about to allow the mood to sour, so she took hold of his hand.

"Don't worry about that. If you're going to worry about something, worry about your wallet."

Not that she would actually leave him in the red, of course.

He laughed and gestured toward the shops and the stalls, the scents seemingly more inviting now. "Go pick whatever you want, then."

"Anything, huh?"

"Anything. As long as you don't explode," he answered, wincing as the grip tightened like a vise. "Okay, sorry."

"Good boy. Aah, I'm starving. What to pick...what to pick..."

Her eyes settled on the grilled squid, and her feet followed suit.


She ended up buying a little of everything offered. The squid was followed by the octopus balls, then a fish on a skewer, some fried chicken, a couple of tempura, yakisoba, and some beer to wash it all down.

She shared them with him, of course, and seeing Ohtori wolfing down his own was oddly satisfying, and not only because she could feel less self-conscious about stuffing her own face.

What they had was simple and familiar. The experience, though, was anything but.

It was nice being somewhere far away, somewhere foreign, somewhere new.

But not alone.

For the first time since forever, she could take things a little slower.

All that food and her body felt light still.

"Thank you."

"For the meal? No problem."

"No, not just that. For everything."

A rosy smile under the sun was another treat.

"I should thank you, too. For coming with me. It was selfish, but..."

"Well, I'm enjoying this trip. Don't sweat it."

The smile grew, and not just his.

He shot up, but she wasn't surprised.

"Good then because it's too early to head back."

"Where now?"

A gaze into the horizon, a meaningful shrug, a knowing smirk.

"Everywhere."

Everywhere's fine.

That was what she decided.

The hand unsuspecting, taken.

The hold, as firm as it can be.

The pull, not too forceful.

The leap, blind but not foolish.

The destination, unknown.

But not the company.


The beach was not crowded, though it was a weekday, so that was not too surprising. The water was inviting, but they didn't bring a change of clothes, so they ended up taking a stroll on the sand instead.

Along the way, the conversation kept going, mundane and trivial. No grand secrets, no world-shaking revelations. Just the little things. Reminiscence, jokes that had been shared between them many times before but somehow never got stale, another round of banter, and another round of beer shared with a toast.

When that got boring, she took off her shoes and rolled up her pants, letting the waves wash the bare feet, and driving the sand between the toes. Ohtori joined in soon after, and she didn't need to invite him.

The water was cool to the touch, and the sun wasn't as blistering as before.

The sea was vast, but the feeling of isolation that would, at times, plague her was nowhere to be found.

Lunch was spent at a ramen shop that locals recommended.

The place was cramped, but the atmosphere was welcoming.

She laughed when he gaped at the bowl she ordered.

He laughed when she nearly choked on her noodles, too.

She ended up full in more ways than one.

"Where next?"

"The shopping street looks interesting."

And it was.

A blend of tacky and tasteful, useful and useless.

She tried the lottery wheel and won a cheap keychain while he botched his first shot at Pachinko. He didn't complain about it and simply moved on to something else that caught his fancy.

They bought cheap candies like they were kids and ate them like they were.

He tossed her an ugly plush shaped like a squashed octopus he won at a crane game. She returned the favor with an even uglier duck she found, then forced him to carry both.

A guffaw, loud and clear and rumbling, followed the exchange, drawing looks from the passersby.

They didn't mind.

They left the place, still occasionally breaking into snickers.

"Had fun?" she heard him asking while he was putting on his helmet. To her regret, the day had to end because the return trip would be long, but somehow, she knew that it wouldn't be the last.

"Very," she replied, then paused as she noticed something. "Is it just me...or is it getting cloudy?"

Ohtori looked up, and so did she a moment later. The sky was growing dark.

"Damn. Hop on, and don't bother with the helmet."

She did as instructed, and when the bike came to life, a raindrop hit her on the forehead.

"Oh, hell," Zuikaku swore, looking up again.

"I'll find us a place to stay, but we're gonna have to endure the rain for a bit," Ohtori called out over the roar.

"Yeah, yeah! Let's go!"

She wasn't exactly thrilled, but the trip had been fun so far, and a little rain wouldn't ruin it.


"Urk, who would've thought there would be a rainstorm outta nowhere?" Zuikaku grumbled. It was a good thing they were able to reach the inn before they became completely soaked. The owner was kind enough to let them wait out the storm in the lobby.

"Come to think of it, it's early Summer, after all. But then again, we rushed out because the forecast was clear."

"Well...guess we're too excited, huh?"

Ohtori looked oddly pleased at that. Too pleased.

"Oy, what's that look?"

"Well, if you're excited, then I'm glad."

Zuikaku huffed and turned away, pretending to find something else to look at instead, but nothing interesting enough presented itself. The rain was coming down hard, and the streets were starting to flood.

"Young'uns, it seems like this rain's going to last the whole day. Why not stay here? I'll give you a big discount," the innkeeper's voice cut through the white noise.

They looked at her, then at each other, then back to the old lady. She had a smile that was both knowing and warm.

"Well, what do you think? Tomorrow's still our day off, so, uh, we're probably safe. Only Shoukaku knew we were going on a trip."

Zuikaku pondered her options, which admittedly were few. Either pushing through to return home, which would put them both at risk—and not of the potentially embarrassing kind either.

Or they could stay. There's no harm, she supposed. At least they were promised a cheaper rate.

Nothing could possibly happen.

She nodded, and Ohtori did the same. The innkeeper clasped her hand, clearly more pleased than Zuikaku thought she should be.

"Well...thing is, there's only one room left. You two wouldn't mind sharing, would you?"

Zuikaku had an inkling that wasn't exactly a question, though she didn't really have the luxury to ponder, as he was occupied with trying not to look too aghast at the prospect. At least Ohtori had the decency to look bothered.

"Uh, well, she could take the whole room. I'll manage."

"The room's big enough, young man."

"No...I don't mind."

The words came out faster than she could process them. But the reason became clear soon enough, and it didn't feel like a difficult decision.

Ohtori had done much for her, and she didn't mind returning the favor, even if it was just by allowing him a proper place to rest.

"...You sure?"

"I trust you."

His lips twitched slightly, followed by a resigned sigh, then a grin.

"Thanks, Zuikaku."

Somehow, she thought it was about something other than the room.

But she didn't really mind.

And it's just for a night.

Hopefully, there's a spare futon, at least.


The room was indeed quite spacy, and there really was a spare futon.

Surprisingly, there was a bathroom as well, small as it was. It was well-equipped, and Zuikaku was pleased to find a hairdryer and plenty of towels.

She relished in the hot shower, taking in the chance to enjoy what she couldn't easily find at the base. She knew she couldn't be spending too much time there, though. He was waiting outside.

Waiting.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Why now?

"Get it together, you idiot," she slapped her cheeks and sighed.

He wouldn't do anything funny, especially with her.

This wouldn't be the first time they were trapped in a storm together, and that one time, nothing happened.

"Nothing happened."

She repeated the words.

And yet, there was an odd feeling inside, as if she didn't quite believe them.

It was as if she was regretting the fact.

She shook her head, turned off the shower, and put on the provided yukata before stepping out.

Ohtori was still looking outside the rain-lashed window; his jacket was left to dry on the chair. He had a towel over his damp hair, but Zuikaku knew it wouldn't be enough.

"Hey, Ohtori. The bathroom's all yours."

He turned to her, and his eyes widened a little.

"O-oh, thanks."

Was it her imagination, or was his face turning red?

No, no, he was definitely flushed. And now he was avoiding her gaze.

"Hey, you okay, Ohtori?"

"Ye-yeah. Well, I'll be...taking a shower, too."

He scrambled to his feet and hurried to the bathroom.

Zuikaku sat down on the floor, still not sure what had gotten into him.

"Argh, forget it!"

She buried her face in the futon.

The pitter-patter of droplets on the window couldn't entirely drown out the sound of rushing water from the bathroom.

Her thoughts began to wander.

And not in a good direction. Or decent.

"The heck?"

Her entire being was heating up.

No, she must not think of her dear friend that way.

Why now? Why?

Why did he take so long?

Wait.

That wasn't supposed to be the question.

Why would she want him to hurry up?

"This isn't right," she murmured. "What the hell?"

But her mind wouldn't relent.

The ache didn't abate.

The rush of emotions didn't stop.

It wasn't long until she heard the door creaking open.

He must've noticed her curling up like a pathetic fool, for she could sense the concern even before he spoke.

Then she could hear the frantic footsteps.

"Zuikaku?! Hey, are you alright?"

She was about to answer, but the words were caught in her throat when she finally looked up.

He wore the same thing as she did, only looser, and she couldn't help but swallow hard.

But one thing that immediately stood out was the shivering and how cold his touch was when he held her by the shoulders.

"...Ohtori, you're cold?"

"...I took a cold shower," he chuckled weakly. "But never mind that. Are you okay?"

"I...yeah. I guess. Sorry for worrying you. I guess I'm just tired."

"Well, we did take a long trip. Yeah, maybe a good night's rest will be good."

"Uh-huh."

Yet he remained.

His eyes unblinking, a flicker of...something within them.

But that apparent stupor didn't last.

The hands pulled back.

His gaze averted.

"Ah...well, good night."

She watched as he moved his futon further away from her own.

Away.

Distant.

"Stop."

He stopped.

"Stay."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Then come closer."

A pause, and then the futon shifted.

"Closer."

Closer.

"Closer."

And closer.

The distance between the two beddings was now non-existent.

He was so close that she could hear him breathing.

She was so close she could feel him shivering.

"Why did you take the cold shower anyway?"

"...Promise you will not be upset with me if I tell you."

"Why would I?"

"Okay. Okay. So, well...I need to clear my...um, thoughts. That's why."

Zuikaku would admit she could be boneheaded every so often.

But she understood the implication this time.

The only clothing she had wasn't exactly modest, and she might have put it on rather flimsily without knowing. She wasn't one to brag, but constant training had left her body lean and athletic, and her curves were rather pronounced.

She had seen the way men—and sometimes, women who were bold enough— looked at her.

She had heard the way they talked about her.

She had put them all in their place.

Never once did he look at her that way.

Never once did he speak about her that way.

The most he had said about her appearance was that she looked very fit.

Whenever he felt like talking about her qualities, it would be about her tenacity and bravery and other things she thought didn't really suit her.

And that was why they got along so well.

And yet, here he was, struggling with...urges.

But can she really be upset over that when she had indecent thoughts of her own?

"...I'm sorry. I'm just...human, you know? I...it must be disgusting," he apologized. He must've caught on to her realization.

"It's not...and don't...apologize," she bit her lip. No more excuses, she decided. "I...had thoughts, too."

He went still but not easing up.

"Zuikaku..."

"You and I both have...urges."

A deep, shuddering breath was shared.

"I...I don't want this to be just...a physical attraction, Zuikaku. You're more than that."

It was probably the most scared he'd ever sounded, and it hurt.

She reached out, at first slowly, but seeing that he didn't pull away, the gesture became much surer until the hand rested on his cheek.

The skin was no longer cold, and his own hand came to meet hers, and it was just as warm.

"Me...neither. You're more than that, too."

In his eyes, the same flicker she saw earlier, growing and growing until the meaning became clear.

"...So, what now?"

"Let's...do whatever we want. But only if you want it, too, Zuikaku."

"Do you?"

"I...do."

That was all she needed. All he needed.

A place, unknown.

A company, familiar.

The ensuing connection, a rapture.

When it was all over—no regrets, no apologies, knowing what was between them was indeed beyond mere lust.


"The wind's still nice, huh?"

The same bridge on the way home was the last stop of the trip.

This time, Zuikaku was okay with her hair getting blown astray.

The air was a little different after the storm had passed, and the road was glistening under the sunlight.

"Yeah. Feels nice. Say, Ohtori..."

"Yeah?"

"Let's go again?"

"No objection. Anywhere you want to go?"

"Anywhere. With you."

"With you."

It was that simple.

It was enough.