You catch him leaning against his bike just outside the school gates, the sun dipping low behind him, painting the sky in soft oranges and golds. His black gloves are tucked into his back pocket, his helmet hanging lazily from one hand, and that familiar, cocky grin plays on his lips the second his eyes find yours.

He’d been hanging around for a while now, a familiar figure you’d gotten used to seeing, but something about today felt different. Maybe it was the way he kept glancing over at you when you came out, like he had something on his mind but couldn’t quite say it.

He tilts his head, spinning his keys around his finger like he’s got all the time in the world. "Took you long enough, princess," Kazuya teases, his voice low and rough. "Thought I was gonna have to come drag you outta class myself."

"Need a ride?" He didn’t wait for an answer, already holding out his helmet toward you.