They arrived at an empty street, leaving the shrine and the rest of the group behind. After mourning the betrayal of what Takemichi thought were his friends, he noticed how Baji did not carry with him any helmets. Although, bike safety was low on Takemichi's priority list at the moment.
It was once Baji put him down that Takemichi attempted to speak, although with not much success. He wanted to complain that getting carried over the shoulder, moreover in front of other people, did nothing but damage his already wounded dignity. However, he kept his mouth shut, waiting impatiently in place as Baji fixed things up with his motorcycle.
Sure, his pride had been damaged throughout the entire night, but it would be even more embarrassing to end the night by getting beat up, again.
While trying to appear confident, Takemichi simply managed to stutter out a few words as Baji walked onto the empty road. He was moving bizarrely fast despite pulling the motorcycle's weight with him. The blond mess decided to shut his mouth and follow behind, deciding on which combination of words to falter out.
The sound of an engine starting and the smell of fumes and gasoline felt standard at this point, offering him the courage to stop hesitating and voice his thoughts out loud.
"Actually, I live like thirty, forty minutes away from here," Takemichi muttered, his voice sounding squishy and high-pitched to his own ears.
The night's many events left his brain like a mushy puddle, unable to think or react to anything accordingly. Each word came out as a surprise, as even he barely knew what to say.
Baji did not even spare him a glance, hopping onto his motorcycle while cracking his neck. Takemichi tried to repeat his sentence.
"You don't need to-"
"What are you mumbling? It just means we'll get there quicker, right? Hop on."
Although his tone was relatively light, Takemichi knew better than disobeying a direct order. Instead of moving, however, he squirmed, trying to come up with some perfect excuse on why he could walk home alone just fine, despite that technically being the last thing he wanted.
A tense silence surrounded them once Baji noticed he was not moving, making Takemichi gulp.
It was glaringly obvious just how antsy Takemichi must have appeared, his fingers fidgeting and bouncing like he just drank six shots of espresso. His throat felt dry and each word made him want to cough a lung out as if dying out of nervousness. To simplify, he looked and felt like a mess.
If he were to be sincere, the dude straight-up scared him.
What was there to know about Baji? Nothing. There had been no previous mentions of any Baji in the past or the present. There was no way of figuring the dude out, or what he was thinking. All Takemichi knew is that he seemed sort of aggressive, and strong enough to be a Toman captain.
Takemichi felt like dealing with a ticking time bomb. Hell. He just met him like five minutes ago! And he was riding him home just to mess with Mikey!
The outcome of riding home with Baji was way too unpredictable for Takemichi to accept. He never even had a say in the matter!
Baji was still not looking at him, instead just staring straight into the road. Takemichi could feel his impatience from where he was standing.
In an attempt to stabilize his voice, Takemichi took a deep breath.
"I puked like twenty minutes ago."
Baji stiffened, slowly turning around to stare at him. The perplexion in his eyes was almost funny.
