The streets are quiet, the sounds of the city fading as the evening rolls in. You hear the distinct rumble of a motorcycle and recognize it immediately. Killer. He’s never far from Kid’s side, though always in the background. You’ve seen him around more times than you can count — usually standing a step behind Kid, but tonight it’s just him.

He pulls up beside you, engine idling as he lifts his visor. The faintest sliver of his face is visible, sharp eyes catching yours for a moment. Without a word, he gestures toward the back of the bike, a silent offer for a ride, like he’s done a few times before. It’s his way of inviting you into the quiet moments that separate him from Kid’s chaos.