Chapter 9: My Only Friend: The Bike

The wind howled.

The engine's deep rumble echoed through my body. Man and machine became one, slicing through the air, gliding across the asphalt like a single living thing.

The rounded tank pressed against my stomach felt surprisingly comforting.

How long had it been since I last rode a bike?

At first, I’d been shaky, worried I might crash. But muscle memory kicked in faster than I expected, and now everything felt smooth—natural.

I rode along the riverside, following the winding road as it twisted and turned. Before I knew it, I’d left the river behind, steadily climbing a steep incline.

It didn’t take long to reach my destination.

A small, quiet overlook. In the distance, the snow-covered peaks of the Japanese Alps stood tall and brilliant. I let out a breath, satisfied.

What should I have done?

That question had echoed in my mind over and over since that day.

But the truth is—I couldn’t have done anything differently.

Back then, I wasn’t prepared. Not even close.

I never really thought deeply about the words Serina kept repeating. I was just confused, brushing them off without truly considering them.

At first, I thought she must’ve been joking. A misunderstanding fueled by alcohol or something like the suspension bridge effect. I assumed it would pass.

But that night—I realized it hadn’t been a joke.

I nodded along, offering casual responses to casual words.

We laughed, shared the moment.

That—_only_ that—was what I thought our relationship was.

A gust of wind blew past.

Dust rose up, making me squint and close my eyes.

I wonder how Serina’s doing now.

We haven’t spoken since then.

I hesitated to reach out, and so the silence between us just stretched. We haven’t even exchanged a single message.

Suddenly, the growl of a muffler echoed nearby.

Someone else had pulled into the overlook.

There weren’t many places to park.

As I expected, a teal-colored bike rolled up and stopped next to mine.

“Oh, hey, you’ve got a Ninja too!”

“… Yeah.”

“I just impulse-bought the latest model the other day. Looks sick, doesn’t it?”

“… Uh-huh.”

The man dismounted and launched into a stream of motorcycle talk—exhaust notes, custom parts, you name it. None of which I’d asked for.

I've seen plenty like him before.

They peg me as an easy mark—someone they can talk at endlessly to feel important.

I wish they wouldn’t drag me into their little self-gratification sessions.

Without a word, I pulled on my helmet. I gave the still-talking man a quick nod and turned to leave. He said something in a flustered voice as I started the bike, but I ignored it and took off.

Come to think of it, most of the guys I’ve dated were just like that.

And when I’d mention that I liked bikes or went to the racetrack, they’d all say the same thing: “You’re not what I expected.”

I’m not blind to how I look.

People I don’t know often say I’m small and look younger than I am. So I get it—why those guys got pulled in by appearances alone.

A momentary mix of resignation—_it can’t be helped_—and a quiet sadness—_why can’t they understand me_—clashed inside my chest.

With the engine humming as background music, I coasted back down the hill, finally returning to the river I’d passed earlier.

There was a spot where I could get close to the water, so I stopped the bike and walked down.

I picked up a flat stone and skipped it across the surface. It bounced once, twice, then dropped into the water with a loud _plunk_.

I wondered—what did Serina even like about me?

All we did was talk like normal, laugh like normal.

Where in that ordinary time together did love—or whatever it was—have room to grow?

This time, I searched for a thinner, lighter stone and tossed it.

It made a soft pashu sound as it skimmed across the water, leaving delicate ripples in its wake.

Then I picked up a much heavier stone and hurled it with all my strength.

It hit with a dull _thud_, sending up a splash that reached all the way to where I stood.

I wanted to see Serina.

To talk. To listen.

I didn’t know anything—not really.

And I couldn’t let things end like this.

Finally, I picked up a piece of bamboo grass from the ground and folded it into a little boat. I set it gently onto the calmest part of the river.

The boat drifted silently between the rocks before it lost buoyancy and quietly sank.