Haruka and Rei stood near the doorway, their bags slung over their shoulders as they bowed politely.
Rei’s voice was soft but sincere as she said, "Thank you very much for the al, Seijirou, Suzune. It was really delicious."
Haruka nodded beside her, adding in her usual composed tone, "Yes, it was both nutritious and well-prepared. Thank you for the hospitality."
Seijirou leaned lazily against the doorfra, waving his hand dismissively. "Don’t ntion it. It’s just lunch. Nothing special."
Suzune, however, smiled sweetly and stepped forward, her tone cheerful and warm. "Still, it makes happy to see you two eating properly. Co again if you have ti, alright?"
Seijirou turned to her with a deep frown. "What are you talking about? This isn’t your house."
Suzune tilted her head, crossing her arms and raising a brow. "Oh? I cook, clean, do the laundry, handle your groceries, and now even entertain your guests. If that doesn’t make it my house, then what does?"
Seijirou opened his mouth to argue, but nothing ca out. He just groaned, rubbing his forehead. "You win this round. But next ti, I’ll have a coback."
Suzune only smiled smugly, clearly satisfied with her victory, before turning back to Rei and Haruka.
"You girls take care, alright? Be careful on the way back. It looks like it might rain later."
Rei bowed again, her expression soft. "Thank you. We’ll be careful."
Haruka nodded once more, and with that, the two girls left the house, chatting quietly as they walked down the street.
The mont the door closed, Seijirou’s relaxed deanor shifted. His eyes sharpened as he turned toward Suzune. "Let’s go to the hospital."
"Ah?" Suzune blinked, "What for? Are you sick?"
"Renji’s in the hospital."
Suzune froze, her eyes widening in shock. "Hospitalised?! Why didn’t you tell earlier!? You said he was resting!"
Seijirou shrugged as he walked past her. "Yeah, resting in the hospital. And I told you now didn’t I?"
Her mouth fell open, clearly wanting to say more, but Seijirou was already moving inside, heading for the cabinet near the living room where he kept a small set of keys.
He grabbed his own, then tossed a chain of keyd toward Suzune. "Pick one. We’ll leave in ten minutes."
Suzune caught it easily, her expression shifting from irritation to determination. "Fine. Give five."
Seijirou walked through the hallway and pushed open the door to his garage.
The air inside was filled with the faint scent of oil, tal, and gasoline, the familiar perfu of his personal collection.
Rows of sleek machines glead under the soft light, their polished bodies reflecting his shadow.
He didn’t own a car, but he had more than enough toys to make up for it. Kawasaki, Yamaha, BMW, Ducati, Honda, Aprilia, CF Moto.
The lineup could make even a professional racer jealous.
He took a mont to run his fingers over the nearest tank, appreciating the cold, smooth steel, before finally stopping in front of his red CBR600RR.
"You’ll do," he muttered, straddling it as he turned the key.
The engine roared to life, the powerful growl filling the garage and vibrating through the floor.
He let it idle, the machine purring like a beast waiting to be unleashed, while he went back inside to change.
When he returned to the living room, Suzune was already standing near the entrance.
His eyes widened slightly, though he didn’t comnt.
She was wearing tight black pants tucked neatly into knee-high leather boots, a white tank top that showed her toned, flat stomach, and a black leather jacket that hugged her fra.
Her long hair was tied back, and in her hand covered in white gloves, was a glossy black helt decorated with a small pink ribbon on the side.
Seijirou let out a low whistle. "You’re seriously dressed like you’re about to start vlog."
Suzune smirked, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"Maybe. I could post thirst traps videos about grinding on a bike if you want," she added as she spun the helt lightly on her finger, "...but you’d probably get mad and slap for basically selling my body online."
Seijirou chuckled, shaking his head, "I won’t go that far. But if you want to those kind of things just for money, then just do it for . I’m so poor I only have money on ."
Suzune giggled, "Well, if I decided that, then sure. I’ll let you know."
Seijirou shook his head in amusent and was about to head upstairs to change, but before he could even take a step, Suzune’s voice ca from behind him, calm and efficient as always. "No need to go up. I already picked your clothes. They’re on the table."
He paused mid-step, looking over his shoulder at her. "You really don’t waste ti, do you?"
Suzune smirked, crossing her arms. "Nope. And I’m proud of it."
Seijirou let out a quiet chuckle and turned toward the table. True enough, a neatly folded set of clothes was laid out, and the mont he saw them, he understood why Suzune sounded so smug.
The outfit was almost identical to hers. A black leather jacket with silver zippers, slim black jeans, and matte black boots polished to perfection.
Even a matching white gloves and black helt rested beside them, sleek and freshly cleaned.
He sighed softly but smiled, shaking his head in amusent as he slipped into the clothes.
The leather creaked faintly as he zipped up the jacket, the material snug but comfortable.
The sll of the leather mixed with the faint hint of Suzune’s perfu that clung to the clothes.
By the ti he buckled the boots and picked up the helt, he looked like the male counterpart of her style.
When he caught his reflection in the mirror, a faint grin crossed his face. "Matching outfits, huh? People might get the wrong idea."
From the other room, Suzune called back, her tone teasing. "Then maybe they’ll think you finally have taste."
He chuckled under his breath and made his way to the garage, slipping the helt under his arm.
The air inside was warm, filled with the low rumble of an engine already running.
He imdiately spotted Suzune sitting astride his Yamaha R6, the engine idling steadily as she lightly twisted the throttle to keep it warm.
The machine’s headlight cast a dim glow across the concrete floor, illuminating her silhouette.
She glanced at him, her voice raised just enough to be heard over the engine. "Did you lock the house?"
Seijirou paused, tilting his head slightly. "Nope."
Suzune’s sigh was sharp and imdiate.
"Of course you didn’t." She got off the engine, swinging her leg over the bike in one fluid motion before striding back toward the house. "Honestly, you’d lose your head if I wasn’t around."
Seijirou leaned against his CBR, watching her go. He couldn’t help but smile faintly beneath the faint hum of his bike’s engine.
"She acts like my wife more than my actual girlfriend would, if I had one," he muttered.
A few minutes later, Suzune returned, tightening her gloves as she walked, her long hair swaying behind her.
She swung her leg back over the R6, revved the engine again, and the low growl filled the air.
Seijirou put on his helt, secured the strap, and mounted his CBR600RR.
The familiar vibration from the engine traveled through his legs as he twisted the throttle lightly, the machine purring like a contained beast.
He eased out of the garage, the sound of the tires rolling over the concrete blending with the soft whine of the engine as he rolled through the gates and waited just outside.
Monts later, Suzune followed, the purple sheen of the R6’s fairing glinting faintly under the afternoon light.
She stopped just by the gate, got off briefly, and locked it with a clean click before walking back to her bike.
Her movents were quick, practiced, efficient, the kind of habit ford after years of discipline.
Once done, she put her helt on, adjusted it slightly, and turned her gaze toward Seijirou.
He was already watching her, one hand resting on the throttle, his bike idling steadily on the pavent.
Suzune raised a hand, giving him a thumbs up, the gesture confident and wordless.
Seijirou returned the nod and twisted the throttle, the CBR’s roar breaking through the stillness of the quiet neighborhood.
The sudden blast of sound echoed off the nearby houses, surely startling a few neighbors, but Seijirou didn’t seem to care.
He leaned forward, and with a smooth motion, the red machine shot forward, tires screeching slightly as he accelerated down the road.
Suzune grinned under her helt and followed, her Yamaha R6 roaring to life as she closed the distance between them.
Two streaks of black and tal cut through the streets, their engines singing in harmony, leaving behind the faint scent of burning rubber and freedom as they raced toward the hospital.
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