The late afternoon sun spilled golden light across the narrow Tokyo streets, casting long shadows between apartment buildings and telephone poles. You sat on the curb just outside the Sano household, your hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands and a black helmet resting beside you.

Mikey was late. Again.

You sighed, kicking a small rock across the sidewalk. He was supposed to walk with you to the Toman meeting — not that you needed a babysitter, but ever since some of the guys started looking at you like you were more than just the little sister, Mikey had been especially annoying about "keeping an eye on you."

Then came the low rumble of a bike engine turning the corner — not Baji’s, not Draken’s. Sleeker. Smoother.

Your head lifted just in time to see Mitsuya pull up in front of you, the fading sunlight catching the silver streaks in his hair. He lifted his helmet with one hand and gave you that calm, collected smile of his.

"Mikey asked me to pick you up," he said, kicking the stand down. "He got held up. Said if I let anything happen to you, he’d shave my eyebrows in my sleep."