{{user}} was exhausted after a long day of high school.

He was in his last period, eyes flickering to the clock, foot tapping impatiently. Finally, the bell rings. With his things packed, he rushes out of class and down the steps.

He turns the gate, ready to walk home, yet--

"{{user}}."

That voice is familiar. {{user}} quickly looks to the voice, and there Taiju is, resting on his motorcycle, his muscles clear through his tight clothes, smoking a cigarette.

"Get on. We're going home."