We can go where we want to,
a place where they will never find.
"Safety Dance" ~ Men Without Hats
Hikari stood beside the bike, rubbing her hands together, her excitement barely contained. The bike was gleaming—chrome reflecting the last warm rays of the day—and everything about it screamed "Don't even think about it." Which, naturally, made her think about it more. A lot more. The bike had become something of a forbidden promise, and now that Keisuke had finally, finally caved, it felt like she'd won the world's best argument prize.
The Suzuki GSX250E sat idling beside them, purring like it was in on the secret, steady and low, pulsing with potential energy. The empty parking lot was their private hideaway, tucked away from the eagle eyes of parents and all other forms of authority. Keisuke leaned against the bike, arms crossed, giving her a look that was part exasperation, part amusement, and entirely, unmistakably, "This better not be a disaster."
"'Operation Road Warrior,'" he said, the name rolling off his tongue with an expression that could only be described as pained disbelief. "Really? That's what you're calling this?"
She grinned, entirely unfazed by his lack of enthusiasm. "Hey, it's a covert mission, okay? You don't just not name a covert mission. Where's the fun in that?"
"Right. Fun. Sure." He deadpanned, then cracked a smirk. "I don't know. How about something more realistic, like 'Operation: Probably Gonna Get Caught'?"
She rolled her eyes, giving him a playful shove. "Oh, come on, Double-0-Pessimist. Can't you have a little faith?"
A scoff, and the faintest hint of a laugh. "Sure, sure. Now, quit screwing around and get on the damn bike already."
Hikari's excitement came spilling out in a giggle as she bounced on her toes. "Ooh, look at us, being all sneaky. So clandestine," she teased, drawing the word out for effect.
Keisuke gave her a look and shook his head, although he couldn't quite hide the grin forming. "Yeah, real sneaky. Just don't get any ideas about joyriding, alright? I'm not in the mood to explain to your dad why I let his daughter turn into a grease stain on the pavement."
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could already hear her dad's voice saying, "What the hell were you thinking, letting my daughter drive a motorcycle?" He winced just thinking about it. If her dad and his mom teamed up to chew him out? Well, then he was basically dead.
Hikari, blissfully ignoring the creeping doubt, swung her leg over the seat and grabbed the handlebars with all the confidence of someone who was about to do something incredibly cool, no matter how many bad ideas it took to get there. The bike was solid and heavier than she'd expected, which made it feel even more real. And the realness of it made her grin even wider.
His expression flickered, settling somewhere between worry and, just maybe, a hint of trust. He leaned in close, his tone shifting to full "I am serious, so pay attention," as he pointed out the controls with calm, methodical precision. The clutch, the throttle, the foot lever—it was like he was giving her the 'Cliff's Notes' to all things motorcycles.
"This," he said, gesturing at the right handlebar, "is your front brake. And trust me, if you pull too hard, you're flying over these handlebars, and I'm not scraping you off the asphalt tonight."
She gave him a mock-offended look, her fingers flexing on the grip. "Wow. So much faith." Her eyes narrowed, a spark of mischief lighting within them. Leaning in, she dropped her voice and did her best menacing impression. "I find your lack of faith… disturbing."
He stopped, deadpan, as he processed the quote. Finally, he raised an eyebrow, the faintest smirk tugging at his mouth. "And that was even nerdier than 'Operation Road Warrior,'" he said, rolling his eyes.
Hikari smiled even wider, completely unrepentant. "You just have no taste," she retorted, with a hint of sass.
And despite himself, he chuckled, the sound blending into the bike's hum as the world faded into the cool quiet of twilight. He sighed, his smirk returning. "Alright, alright. Just… don't crash it. Seriously."
In the stillness of his presence, her nerves finally settled, the jittery buzz of anticipation easing as she felt his steady confidence nearby. She exhaled, matching his calm for just a second, before she turned the throttle as he'd shown her. The bike growled to life, the engine vibrating under her hands in a way that sent an excited shiver up her arms. And then, miraculously, it started to move.
The bike rolled forward, slow and steady, the world fading around them. The only sound was the engine, a rumble that felt like a heartbeat. Her face beamed, helpless against the thrill of it—the bike responding, the tiny surge of speed settling deep in her bones.
"There you go," Keisuke said, his voice approving as he walked alongside her. "Nice and easy."
"This is amazing," she said, the words slipping out in a breathless rush.
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, don't get cocky, okay? Right now, you're only about as fast as a turtle."
She shot him a look, sticking her tongue out. "Hey, I'm savoring the moment here."
They made slow, careful loops around the parking lot, each pass a tiny victory, her muscles beginning to sync with the bike's rhythm. She could feel his gaze following her every move, ready to step in at the slightest sign of trouble, but with a patience that made her feel like maybe she really could handle this.
"Alright, stop," he finally said, holding up a hand.
She pulled on the brake, a bit too hard, bringing the bike to an abrupt halt. Her heart was still racing, and she looked up at him, beaming. "How'd I do?"
Keisuke shrugged, unable to hide a smile. "Not bad," he said, nodding like he was grading her homework.
Pride welled up in her chest, warm and solid, like the bike's weight beneath her. "So… we're hitting the road now, right?"
He snorted, crossing his arms. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Kaneda. You're barely parking-lot-ready. The streets? Not a chance," he laughed, his voice low, echoing slightly in the stillness of the empty lot. "Maybe after a few more lessons."
"Oh, come on," she groaned, slumping forward over the handlebars. She pouted, but she couldn't argue. The promise of more lessons was enough to keep her satisfied for now. Besides, she'd tasted victory here tonight—even if it was only in a parking lot, she felt that she'd earned this.
As the last traces of daylight faded, they circled the lot one final time, her movements growing smoother with each turn. Keisuke's teasing was relentless, but his patience was solid as ever, his gaze unwavering as he watched her settle into each motion. And by the time the sun dipped completely behind the buildings, turning the lot into shadow, he finally called it a night.
"Alright, that's enough for today," he said, stopping her with a light hand on her shoulder. "You did good, but let's not push it."
Her legs wobbled as she climbed off the bike, and she looked up at him, flushed with a mix of pride and exhaustion. "Thanks, Keisuke. This was… really fun."
He ruffled her hair with the kind of affectionate roughness only he could manage. "Yeah, well, don't forget—this is our little secret."
"Oh, absolutely," she laughed, her voice light, twinkling against the encroaching dark. "Our super top-secret, classified little secret."