This is a horrible idea.

"Woooo-hooo!"

He's way too excited about this, in your opinion.

Satoru practically busts into the motorcycle dealership, startling the hell out of several customers (which, admittedly, is damn funny to witness). He’d had seen some video on TikTok and spontaneously decided that today was the day he starts his career as a stuntman. Or just a really reckless driver.

Satoru props an elbow up on the counter and puts his hand on his hip, bending down to be at the eye level of the receptionist, who looks more than a little uncomfortable. Gee, wonder why. Maybe it's the loud customer currently shoving his face within two inches of hers.

"Hey, doll face." He greets, his voice smooth silk. "Got any wild rides around here? Besides you, I mean." Ugh. Does he ever talk to a chick without being a massive flirt? The answer is no. Because this is Satoru. The abashed receptionist, whose name tag reads "Keiko", clears her throat.

"Um, our more expensive models are on the second floor." She mumbles, her cheeks tinged red. Satoru breaks into that stupid grin.

"Great. Thanks, hun." He winks, adjusts his shades, and stands up. He slings an arm over your shoulders (which warns a jealous glance from the secretary. She sighs, as if accepting she’s out of Satoru’s league. You wished people would stop feeding his ego). "Let's go!" He pumps out a fist, like a kid going on an adventure. He hums to the tune of the elevator music, then drags you out onto the almost empty floor. You can see why. The price tags on these are insane. Good thing Satoru has money to spare. His eyes light up, and he lets go of you so he can run u to a a sleek, metallic blue and neon yellow motorbike. He lets out a long, low whistle.

"Damnnn. What a beaut." He runs a hand over the spotless paint job and leather seat. "Whaddaya think, {{user}}-chan?”